Struggling to Survive or Enjoying the Life?

More often we blame indigenous communities and forest dwellers for destroying the nature. Are they struggling to survive or enjoying the life?   Are they agent or victim of environmental

degradation? I probed deeper on this issue in the remote areas of Odisha, India.

God has blessed Koraput-Rayagada belt of Odisha with natural beauty –mesmerizing view of springs, waterfalls, forest, colorful birds, clouds coming down to touch the earth –a heaven for urban people, like me.

The area is inhabited by ‘Kondh’, an indigenous community in India, known as Acumen in Agriculture.  They are subsistent farmers with full of local wisdom and Indigenous Traditional Agriculture Knowledge (ITAK). They are now more involved in cutting and selling wood than farming.

 

I followed them to understand their livelihoods. They are also my potential clients as my rural development company ‘SAI-Sustainable Agro (http://sustainableagroinc.com/)  is working in this region with its innovative one acre model through which one family get assured of earning US$1000 annually from 1 acre barren land.

As the local train reached Rauli- a small station, indigenous people thronged with bundles of firewood.  They all were going to Tikri, nearest township to sell the wood. It was haat day– weekly market there.  As the journey was for another hour, I started talking to them. What I learned from women like Takiri and Baidi that their agriculture is ruined. Lack of rain at the beginning of cropping season and heavy rain afterwards washed away their crop. 

Many of the males have migrated and women are bearing the brunt – they have to feed the remaining family members, old aged and young children. As cutting of standing trees is banned, they axed the trees few days before and wait. Then, they go to forest very early in morning, cut the dried tree, catch the train and come to weekly market. It’s a full day exercise, for which they hardly get Rs.80-100 (US$1.5) for a bundle. 

They do not have any asset left at home, whatever little left, they are selling. I could see people carrying poultry and utensils. They know that cutting forest trees is harmful, but they do not have any choice.   

They are trapped in downward poverty spiral - exploiting the nature to survive, the exploitation of nature further impoverishes them, making survival more difficult. They do not see any way out. 

Jitendra Sinha

CEO – SAI Sustainable Agro (http://sustainableagroinc.com)

The Two Worlds

It was 27^th September, 1995 when a youth embarked a journey to the other World-unknown to him.  He had been staying in deep jungle less than a fortnight ago. The other World was a like a fairy-tale for him.

He lived in a small village in the midst of forest, where his partners were wild elephants, boars and poisonous snakes. The area was den of extremists. The only means of communication to outside world was a jeep, which used to go out in the morning with full load of daily wage labourers and come back in the evening. He was a change agent on his mission to de-learn and re-learn. He had left his Ph.D. course in Agriculture four years ago but continued his learning in the field. 

On 13^th September when the Jeep returned back in the evening, the driver handed him a slip. It had a message that his father had phoned a public booth in nearby town and wanted to talk to him. Next day, he went in the jeep with other passengers to make a long distance call to his father. There was no mobile/cell phone during that period, and one had to use Standard Trunk Dialing (STD) system. His father informed that a letter had come from Government of India with his admission letter and flight tickets to Dublin for 27^th September. 

He had applied for Irish fellowship for Rural Development course, and he was the only person from India to be selected for that particular course. The period after that was roller-coaster for him. Everything going to happen was new for him: his three piece suit, the flight, the country, the people, the culture, the food. However, he was ready to explore - willing to get immersed in the new world.

For two weeks he shuffled between Delhi and his hometown to complete all the formalities. Finally, he took the Air France flight on scheduled date to start his journey to unknown World. It was his first flight with change over at Paris. At Dublin, a central public announcement system was waiting for him to welcome. The announcement directed him to pick-up a phone near to arrival gate. The voice on the other side instructed him to take a cab and reach the address – 41 Morehampton Road, Dublin. Since he did not have any Irish currency he was asked to tell the cab driver that money will be paid by the host. The journey in unknown world had started.   

Two Worlds

At the given address, Student Officer for Irish Council of Overseas Students (http://www.icosirl.ie/) greeted him. He gave him brief orientation and asked him to sign a contract. He handed a packet to read and some Irish currency to him. The Student Officer also informed him that the earlier Indian could not complete the course last year and returned back within a month as she had cultural shock. He then directed the cab driver to drop him at the given address - Apartment no.14, Merville Residence, University College Dublin, Ireland (http://www.ucd.ie/residences/our-residences/merville-residence/).

By the time the youth reached Merville Residence it was evening. He had left his country for more than 24 hours. He dropped dead on the bed. When he woke up, it was afternoon. It took some time for him to realize that he had slept for about 20 hours. He did not know the word ‘Jet-Lag’. After waking up he took a view to his apartment and learned that it had four single bedrooms, a shared kitchen and living area and two bathrooms. The kitchen did not have firewood or gas stove, but hot plates - he saw for the first time in his life.

He was introduced to his flat-mates – two Spanish and one American. This was his time to start identifying people from different countries by differentiating the way they speak.

He also learned that why the gentleman on the flight had told him that he will have to drink heavily to survive in Ireland. The Irish wind was very strong and chilling. He tried beating the cold by wearing thick sweater and coat, but it did not help and the strong wind continued to penetrate through his thick cloths. His flat-mates suggested him that instead of wearing thick cloth he should wear layers of cloths. They also advised him that if he starts jogging and exercise then he would be acclimatized sooner. The learning in new world had started. 

Next morning he reached his college. His teacher and Office Assistant informed that his classes will begin from Monday, 2^nd October, 1995. They suggested him to use the time to explore Dublin, which he did by wandering around for next three days. Everything fascinated him. The bus did not have any conductor, and one has to put the coin in the box at the entrance to buy the ticket. He took bus from college to City Centre from where he could walk all over to major points in the city – the city mall; Grafton street; Temple Street; Molly Malone; St. Stephen’s Green; Christ Church Cathedral; George Bernard Shaw’s home and many. He had nothing else to do till the class started.

One thing he could not understand. He had got colour blind. All the faces looked alike – all white, difficult to differentiate.

The campus had gymnasium and jogging track. He re-started his jogging and exercise within days of reaching, and these helped. In India, he had to face minimum temperature of 5°-6° Celsius and maximum of 42°-45° Celsius. In Ireland, minimum was -15° to -20° Celsius and maximum was 10°-12° Celsius. The body got adjusted to extreme climate once he started his exercise and learned wearing layers of cloths. He did not need alcohol or heavy cloth to keep his body warm.

Life in Two Worlds

First time, when he went to his class he still had colour blindness. All faces looked white - similar. He had big difficulty in identifying the faces of his classmates. He found a noble way of recognizing them. He wrote all the names on a paper and in front of each name he wrote words like Breege-curly hair; Siobhan-blonde; Jim-tall guy; John – short hair; Shielah – spectacle. It took a while before he started remembering their faces. There were a couple of students from Eastern European and African countries. Their English accents were very different, he started listen them carefully, trying to understand and find meaning.

When he went to open his bank account, he was given a card and taught how to use the card at a machine known as Automated Teller Machine (ATM). It was 1995 and ATM did not have made entry in India. He had started learning and managing himself in this new World.

The campus residence was another world for him. He was seeing people from different countries – Italian, Spanish, French, Mexican, Chinese, Brazilian; Bangladeshi; Sri Lankan; South African; Sudanese; Pakistani; Greek and many others nationalities. He learned that Dublin is known as educational hub, and students from all over the world come there for learning.

These all students from different countries had one thing in common – they all had left their home to gain knowledge and they all wanted to mingle and socialize, but did not know how – they were all alone, sometimes getting homesick, like him.  

As he had two flat-mates from Spain, he came closer to Spanish people - there were few in the campus. They used to go out together during the weekend – to pub, dance clubs, movies. He started accompanying them. They taught him some Spanish words (like Me Amigo) and dance steps of famous Flamenco dance. He had learned break-dance during his earlier hostel days at BHU, Varanasi, India. He mixed these two dances and made a new discovery – Spanish break dance.

Soon, he started winning dance competitions in discoth and dance clubs. He used to get Wine and Whisky bottles in reward, but as he was non-alcoholic he made a deal with his Spanish flat mates. They paid for his tickets and soft drinks and whenever he wins he gave the reward to them. Soon he started learning Irish dance steps – famous tap dance and straw (folk) dance.

He also started organizing weekend parties in his campus residence. Anybody could join - the only condition was that the person has to bring one dish of his/her country. Soon the parties started getting popularity: the people used to taste Spanish Omelets, Ethiopian coffee; Indian Chole (chickpea); Italian Pizza; American Tacos; Irish Turkey and many other dishes together.

He later moved outside campus at Belfield Court Apartment, but the parties continued. In the one such parties the local police – Garda arrived as the neighbour had made a complaint. The party had got noisy when the people started dancing on the music of different countries. However, seeing people from more than 20 countries, the Garda went back without taking any action. It was talk of the campus next day.  

With his skill in bringing together people from different countries, he was asked to facilitate Irish-African Students Cultural Society. He had started enjoying the new World.

He stayed in the new World for two years. He was so much immersed in the new culture that nobody thought that he would leave. However, he had to come back to continue his learning, sharing and contributing to the World he belonged, and he did so when he completed his study. 

Upon returning he was back to the jungle, though in different region with different people. His new home in the jungle was 35 kms away from the road-head, where one has to cross many hills and rivers/ rivulets and where the only means of transport was foot.  

Here, he learned that when it rains one should run instead of waiting in a shade for the rain to stop. The reason was that all the rivulets would get flooded and one won’t be able to cross to reach home, and would have to spend night by climbing on the tree. The jungle was full of wild animals. A tiger had taken the calf in front of his eyes. Fortunately, he was on the other side of rivulet and the calf was another side, when it happened.

It was here he learned that if any snake or scorpion bites, the villagers – indigenous persons would put the affected person on a holy platform and pray to God to save him/her. If the person is good person, s/he would be saved and if dies that means s/he was an evil person and God did not bestow mercy to him.  There was no doctor, no school, no road and no village haat/market. The life

was simple. Money was not needed, as the barter system still existed.

Though he worked and traveled to many countries in Europe, Asia and USA later, he still finds the solace in the world he belonged, working with those to whom, many from the other world would call poor, stubborn, and illiterate.

His exposure to the other World had expanded his context, knowledge and most importantly his vision to see inside-out (zoom out) and outside-in (zoom in).

More information about his work can be found at http://sustainableagroinc.com/

Jitendra Sinha

7^th September, 2014

  

My Sweetest Word

If you have to name the sweetest word in the world – which one would come to your mind? Sweetheart……., Beloved………, Home………, Money……, Power………., Fame……, Position………, Or else?

For me, the sweetest word in the World is – Mother; Mummy, Maa; Aae; Amma

Sometimes ago, when Indian Leader Mr. L.K. Advani praised Mr. Narendra Modi for doing a favour by accepting Prime Minister’s position, Mr. Modi remarked “Can anybody do a favour to mother?”  For Indians, our country is like a mother, and we often call her as ‘Bharat Mata or Mother India’.

It took me five years back in the history in 2009. My mother told me the very same thing that I and my wife were doing a favour to her by cleaning her excreta and I had said that nobody can do a favour to mother. She was terminally sick.

My mother was detected with cervical cancer in June, 2009. At that time she was staying with my elder brother near to Varanasi. She came to stay with me at Navi Mumbai, and survived six more weeks. The doctors at Tata Memorial Hospital (TMH-well known for cancer treatment) confirmed terminal stage and asked us to decide whether we should go for chemotherapy or not. The chance of survival was very slim. 

My mother opted for natural death. In contrary to other cancer patients she passed away very peacefully today (16^th August) five years ago in 2009. Probably, it was her Karma - her helping attitudes to poor children and their parents throughout her life, which saved her from the agony of a cancer patient.

My mother taught me some of the greatest values in life. Among these were love to poor people and importance of serving others. My mother was a teacher: running her own school for more than 35 years, since 1974 till her death. She used to teach children of daily wage workers, rickshaw pullers, small grocery owners and traders at a very nominal fee which she waived many times when the parents were not able to pay. Whenever I asked her why not she takes the fee when she has to pay to other teachers and for maintenance she answered that they cannot afford, and if she does not allow them to study then who will teach.

As my father was a self-employed person - an advocate, the family income was never steady. At crucial times, my mother’s income supported the family. My parent’s first priority was supporting their children’s education than meeting their basic needs. Many of my relatives who visited our home when we were studying outside told us on how they used to send money by cutting down their expenses, so as we could stay and study comfortably.  

I was fortunate to have such a parent. They were always very supportive and never imposed their will on me. That’s why I could take a strong decision to leave my Ph.D. midway when I was asked either to bow down, accept the injustice or leave the Ph.D. (mentioned in my earlier blog on ‘Knowing your True-self’). That’s why I could leave my profiling career at the Philippines in 2008, took early retirement and return back to India.

I very well remember that when I went to Banaras Hindu University (BHU) I got Malaria within six months. At that time my first semester examination was about to begin. Some of my classmates called my parents and informed them about my sickness. They immediately came from Patna (about 250 kms away from my place of study). My mother took special permission from hostel warden, and started staying with me in boys’ hostel, taking my care till my examinations were over. 

There are many such cases when she went beyond her limits to support us. I know your mother is also no exception and you cherish those moments when she came out of way to support you.

Once my friend and ex-Boss at CARE, Depinder Kapur asked me what I got from my consultancy. I told him that the greatest reward from my consultancy work has been those six weeks that I spent with my ailing mother. We were never that much close in last 25 years since I left my home for higher study. During those six weeks I was with my mother for almost every single moment, taking care of her and getting her final teaching. I would not have been able to do that had I been in the job.

My parents are no more in this world, but their blessings will always be.

Jitendra Sinha

16^th August, 2014

PS: During her last days my mother used to share some of her paranormal experiences. I did not understand and believe at that time. However, when I read Dr. Brian Weiss’s book “Many Lives, Many Masters’ three years later I was surprised. At pp.140-141 Dr. Weiss has written very similar statements which my mother used to share. She never knew the authors or read his books.