a different kind of diya for diwali

Diwali is a five-day festival for Hindus, Jains and Sikhs, and each has their own story to tell how it began. But since my experience was limited I can only speak of the Hindu version.

Diwali is the time of the year when Hindus light diyas (clay lamps) and firecrackers. It's a tradition that was carried on from the day the mythical Lord Rama returned to Kosala kingdom, along with wife Sita and brother Lakshmani, after 14 years of banishment and having successfully defeated the demon-king Ravana. The people of Ayodha, the capital of Kosala, welcomed the trio with joyous celebration, they illuminated the kingdom with diyas and also burst firecrackers.

Diwali does not happen same time each year, the date is calculated according to the moon. This year it fell on November 5, the moon was not visible in the sky. That night we (Michael, fellow volunteer, and his visiting American friends) joined our landlord's family in their commemoration. After the traditional puja, rangolis, kumkum, incense, lighting of candles and all we went to another building the family owns, located a few blocks away. Amidst the explosions, we entered alleys to go to the building, skillfully evaded lit firecrackers and reached there with all our limbs still intact.

It wasn't just the firecrackers we tried to elude, in spite of diyas in every house we passed the streets were dark. We had to tread carefully, almost as if we were watching out for landmines. The landlord's daughter warned us about accidentally stepping on diyas laid on the streets. These are supposedly cursed diyas; people who believe in black magic and who have family members who have been sick, or been into series of unfortunate events go out on a moonless night to plant this trap. The belief is that the diya is placed there with an intent to pass on the illness or the misfortunes to any one who steps on it. Makes sense to me that they do this when the moon is out. Those people lit the diyas, the flame would eventually die but the curse remains. With the Diwali's raucous celebration you could easily ignore the ground you are walking on.

Along the way, we did pass by a 2 women boldly lighting a diya in the middle of the street. At the time, I thought it was very devout of them to spread whatever health and prosperity the diyas bring. Strange that people knew what evil it could bring to them but no one stopped the women.


Photos from top to bottom: 1) diyas, 2) rangoli, 3) landlord's family preparing for the puja, 4) landlord's daughter applying kumkum on mike's forehead, 5) fireworks, 6) cursed diyas. (Photos by Mike and Len)

ruminating in delhi

(I’ve moved to Delhi last week of October and will be here for 9 months or so for my new assignment under disability programme area)

A few meters away, across the street from where I live, right behind the bus stand, there’s a fenced lot where a group of migrant/homeless people live along with a number of cows; big and small, young and old, people and cows. The fence is made of hurricane wire that from where I stood this morning I didn’t have to crane my neck to see the tents where their meager belongings are stashed, and watch them as they did their morning rituals. There was a mother sitting on the bare ground, her legs outstretched, a naked baby on her lap and right beside her was a steel bucket. She was bathing her baby not only in full view of passersby but in what to me was a chilly morning. Standing around her were 3 or 4 women wrapping their saris around their waists. The men were gathered in a stall with canvas roof, they seemed engaged in animated discussion while smoking bidis (leaf-rolled cigarette made of coarse,uncured tobacco). It was the start of their day. I didn’t look long enough. If I did, perhaps I would see makeshift stoves and even find out what they’d have for breakfast other than the stares from the commuters as they waited for the bus.

Yes, I could ogle and be awed by their courage to flee their native places and try to survive, or be disheartened by the sight of their homelessness, of their lack of privacy as they do their own thing. I wondered, it may have been their choice to make that piece of land their temporary home in order to earn a living, but was it also a choice to become a showcase of poverty? They were fully aware of the eyes gazing at them; the wide smiles on the faces of the women as they gazed back impressed me that they took pleasure in being a menagerie. But it is what they really wanted? Or they just accepted their predicament? Deprivation of privacy, the price they paid for a survival.

As the women covered themselves with sari I felt like I was stripping them of their dignity if I took a minute longer to stare at them. I find it dreadful enough that they don’t have proper shelters where they can feel secure and protected. It is more appalling for me that these women cannot even have their privacy. Homelessness is no longer a phenomenon in New Delhi, I see them here everyday. I cannot do anything about it. The least I could do is not to deprive them of their personal space. I looked away, but I didn’t know if looking away meant indifference to their plight.

"sharing skills, changing lives"

(another post i was not able to publish earlier, was written some time in January 2010. i have now joined another organization, but i am carrying with me fond memories of the former organization)

I came to India with passion and commitment seven months ago (July 2010). Two months in my placement as M&E Advisor and I could feel the passion slowly petering out and started to think that the only life changing here was mine. Why not? For two months all I did in my organization was to read documents and harass people with my incessant questioning to serve my selfish purpose of understanding the organization, their system and ways of working. That was not easy. Back in my country I didn’t like drawing attention to myself but here, with people always on the go I had to watch out for perfect timing to grab attention and be attended to. I constantly observed people and anyone who made a mistake of looking away from their computer monitor would be interrogated by me regarding their projects.

So okay, I did manage to do a few things other than read and talk which gave me an illusion that I was useful to my organization, that all the hard work of making people sat down with me and told me what they thought I could do for the organization paid off. I was happy to be asked to make a presentation about management information system (MIS), although the most I could actually do was the Powerpoint slides and didn’t get to present it myself. One or two people here came to learn of mind mapping technique which I used when I presented my proposed plan on how to accomplish my placement objectives.

When I had meetings with group of people it was not easy to keep them still and focused, even if I incarcerated them in conference room. Next thing I knew I was conducting meetings on exact spots where I bumped into them, within earshot of everybody. It actually served my purpose because those I peppered with question at most time needed to consult others as well to provide me answers.

My preliminary review took place exactly four months and a day after I joined my organization. Before that I had to fill up a review form, some kind of self-assessment. I was lackadaisical answering the questionnaire. I could not feel that I have done anything at all. One question I remember was “What personal lessons have you learnt?’. What could be the best answer? “I learned that there’s so much more to learn”, but I decided it was too self-serving and too obvious that I didn’t learn anything. But I have mentioned early on that my life is being changed by this volunteer work and certainly I, must have gained something from this experience. The best I could come up with was: I learned that people here can accept me by just being me. I don’t need to try to be an Indian, it’s more about being true to one’s self and being sincere; be humble to admit that I don’t know many things; that it’s okay to ask. I also learned to be assertive without being pushy.

I was just so glad that there was no question on what skills have I shared so far or I would have just packed my things (made sure the friendly pressure cooker is tucked in my suitcase) and voluntarily deported myself back to Manila.

Came the actual review day. The people I worked closely with in the past months were all seated around an oval glass table in the conference room (and yes, their number dwindled at every tick of the clock). My line manager began with, ”she’s on the right track...” and then enumerated the tasks I did based on the (no) progress report that I submitted to him. If the rest of those who were present had read my report I reckoned the review would be drab, unless there was a plan to drop a bomb later and say having me as volunteer was a futile exercise and a waste of resources.

I waited and waited but did not hear any explosive remark that would crush me into pieces out of debasement. Each of them shared about their encounters with me, and humbled as I already was, I was even more humbled by what they said during the review. While I counted my concrete output (which was minimal at the time) they took stock of my ways of working that influenced theirs. The rest of the review made me dizzy with modest euphoria and felt my passion drawing back to life.

“She asks questions that make us think and look at the organization in a holistic manner.” I didn’t know that my snooping actually had positive effect on them. One of my goals in my placement is for them to look beyond their projects and see the bigger picture. I felt that because they are so bent on accomplishing each of their tasks they become project-focused and tend to forget their higher purpose.

I learned to KISS (keep it short and simple) whenever I talked to the people in my organization because everyone seemed to be occupied that there is a shortage of attention span. When they mentioned that “She listens…” what immediately came to mind was that listening is a least-developed skill here but greatly appreciated when someone can actually stop and listen when they are saying something.

“She advises..” I kinda like the idea that I am constantly referred to as the advisor because it gives them the power to decide on matters and therefore have a sense of ownership of whatever process we are going through.

“She interacts with everyone..” I talked to everyone, including the watchman who only comes to work every afternoon and leaves in the morning (and whose name only few people are aware of). Everyday, I patted someone’s shoulder or asked how they felt in a particular day. In a hierarchical organization and a state where the caste system is still strongly practiced I suppose this is a big deal to them, albeit any manifestation of caste difference is absent in my organization.

Throughout the four months prior to my preliminary review I constantly complained to myself that my time and their resources are being wasted because I kept track of concrete outputs. It never occurred to me that when they said I made a ‘good start’ they were referring to what they felt about my being in the organization.

My role here is to develop an M&E system that will help determine how their various projects are contributing to the attainment of their goals, and veer away from donor-driven monitoring and evaluation. My best bet is that when I leave next year, they will have the system that they want and use it for another one or two years. But because of pressure from many donor agencies and other factors beyond the purview of my assignment they will likely revert to the old system. Yet I am pretty much assured that even after I am gone they will retain some values and attitudes that they have learned, not from our planned activities but from our daily encounters. As for me, I am learning to stretch my patience, appreciate more cultural differences and be comfortable with slow but steady progress. I also learned how to hand-wash clothes properly.

A day before I wrote this I had a meeting with 6 of my colleagues, some of them tried to talk at the same time but no one left before the two-hour meeting was officially adjourned. :-)