7/08/2009
Click here to view these pictures larger
I recommend the larger pictures.
These pictures were taken to show the incredible ecological diversity at Sambhav. They were all taken on one day (July 5th), and there were several more types I noticed later that I did not get a chance to photograph. Only one picture of each type of flower is in this gallery (actually there IS one duplicate...), and every flower photographed was included, even if the picture was not of the highest quality.
What is amazing is that when I commented on all the different types of flowers, Sabarmatee told me that there aren't that many flowers right now.
7/08/2009
We have been staying in Bhubanehswar at the Xiaver Institute of Management, where our main contact has been Dr. Shambu Prasad who teaches the Rural Management and who wrote a series of booklets describing the state of SRI in Orissa. As I have previously mentioned, our trip to Orissa has been to find out what worked here and to figure out what to do in Chattisgargh. Dr. Prasad reccommended identifying the actors relating to SRI in the state - NGOs, goverment, research agencies, farmers - and learning about their activities to assess the state of things before deciding on what action to take.
During the course of the meeting, he got excited when he found out we had heard of JSS through AID, and called up two of his students to organize and informal discussion about AID, JSS, SRI, and what we were doing. We talked with them for a short time, and they said they would send out an email, and we set a time for 8PM. When we met them a few minutes before 8, we were told this "informal meeting" was going to be attended by 60 students, or about half of the entire Rural Management program. We did the best we could to be informative and accurate, but there was some confusion about our relations to the organizations. Though we have worked with AID and attended their meetings and events, we are not members, and not incredibly informed about the details of their activities. We faced questions like "what is meant by development" and "what is your definition of social justice" (Dolly's answer about community got the only applause of the night). We asked after the meeting if they had somehow implied it was required, but were told that the students were just curious.
The next morning, we attended one of Dr. Prasad's classes, on Environmental Management, and they were applying the same type of analysis (identifying actors, creating a timeline), and it was beneficial to get a little more information and depth on how to conduct those analyses.
We spent part of the afternoon as tourists, going to a market described as having authentic tribal crafts. Many of the shops were the same, and it felt a little touristy. There are other sights here that we would have liked to see but didn't have time, especially Dhauli, which dates to the 3rd century BC, and contains the edicts of the legendary emporer Ashoka, who was instrumental in spreading Bhuddism across Asia. There are also some caves that date back to the same era that have some carvings. We will probably be back this way again, so we will have a chance to see them.
If you are curious about the books of Dr. Prasads, they are available online: http://www.wassan.org/sri/ - search for "Shambu" and you should find the appropriate ones. They are the most informative literature we have found on the state and growth of SRI.
During the course of the meeting, he got excited when he found out we had heard of JSS through AID, and called up two of his students to organize and informal discussion about AID, JSS, SRI, and what we were doing. We talked with them for a short time, and they said they would send out an email, and we set a time for 8PM. When we met them a few minutes before 8, we were told this "informal meeting" was going to be attended by 60 students, or about half of the entire Rural Management program. We did the best we could to be informative and accurate, but there was some confusion about our relations to the organizations. Though we have worked with AID and attended their meetings and events, we are not members, and not incredibly informed about the details of their activities. We faced questions like "what is meant by development" and "what is your definition of social justice" (Dolly's answer about community got the only applause of the night). We asked after the meeting if they had somehow implied it was required, but were told that the students were just curious.
The next morning, we attended one of Dr. Prasad's classes, on Environmental Management, and they were applying the same type of analysis (identifying actors, creating a timeline), and it was beneficial to get a little more information and depth on how to conduct those analyses.
We spent part of the afternoon as tourists, going to a market described as having authentic tribal crafts. Many of the shops were the same, and it felt a little touristy. There are other sights here that we would have liked to see but didn't have time, especially Dhauli, which dates to the 3rd century BC, and contains the edicts of the legendary emporer Ashoka, who was instrumental in spreading Bhuddism across Asia. There are also some caves that date back to the same era that have some carvings. We will probably be back this way again, so we will have a chance to see them.
If you are curious about the books of Dr. Prasads, they are available online: http://www.wassan.org/sri/ - search for "Shambu" and you should find the appropriate ones. They are the most informative literature we have found on the state and growth of SRI.
7/07/2009
For two of the days here, a group of about 30 farmers were here for training in organic farming methods. The first day we didn't observe much, as the materials were mostly lectures and in Oriya, a language neither Dolly nor I understood. The second day invovled field practicals, and we watched them learn to make liquid manure (a type of compost) in earthern pots and prepare vegetable seeds in a mixture of dung, ash, and soil from under a mango tree. Speaking to their team leader, we learned that all the people were from the same village and were making a commitment to switch to organic farming. Through the non-profit, they had already built a farm pond (a simple water storage structure) for nearly every family.
At dinner, they did a local dance and invited us to join. The dance was basically stepping forward and stepping back while moving in a circle with arms around each other. I don't know if its traditional, or if it was made up on the spot. There was a young man who sang very well and played the drums, and clearly had a crush on Dolly. He was always looking at her, and as they were leaving, he even asked for her cell phone number. We were invited to come see the village.
We left with a better sense of what we need to do to help Jacob successfully get SRI spread through Chattisgargh. We took an early bus - at 5, they said they would be at Sambhav at 5:20, and they didn't show up until 6:15. We stood for the first hour of the ride until we found seats. We got off just short of town to get a ride the rest of the way with Prof. Rashamohan, Sabarmatee's father, who just happened to have a morning meeting across the street from where we were going, the Xiaver Management Institute, where we meeting with Dr. Prasad who had written extensively about the spread of SRI in Orissa while it was happening.
At dinner, they did a local dance and invited us to join. The dance was basically stepping forward and stepping back while moving in a circle with arms around each other. I don't know if its traditional, or if it was made up on the spot. There was a young man who sang very well and played the drums, and clearly had a crush on Dolly. He was always looking at her, and as they were leaving, he even asked for her cell phone number. We were invited to come see the village.
We left with a better sense of what we need to do to help Jacob successfully get SRI spread through Chattisgargh. We took an early bus - at 5, they said they would be at Sambhav at 5:20, and they didn't show up until 6:15. We stood for the first hour of the ride until we found seats. We got off just short of town to get a ride the rest of the way with Prof. Rashamohan, Sabarmatee's father, who just happened to have a morning meeting across the street from where we were going, the Xiaver Management Institute, where we meeting with Dr. Prasad who had written extensively about the spread of SRI in Orissa while it was happening.
7/05/2009
The reaon we came to Orissa was to visit an NGO called Sambhav, which consists of 8 full-time members living in an Ashram. An Ashram is a society that exists for a religious and social purpose, The original purpose of this Ashram is to take care of the land by natural methods, and they have since taken on tasks like gender violence and sanitation. They have several paddies being farmed under SRI and run seminars to teach it to other organizations. We are here to see what they have done to spread SRI successfully, and bring those lessons back to Chattisgargh.
We found this description in a booklet about SRI in Orissa which explains their history:
This NGO is the brainchild of Prof. Rashamohan who undertook the ardent task of planning out cultivation of trees and crops in its campus which was considered to be absolutely unfit and infertile. So much so that the agriculture scientists and foresters told him that his plan is Asambhav (impossible). Today the sprawling diversity all over the palce of flora and fauna is the result of the determination to turn the Asambhav into Sambhav (possible).
Today the place is very, very green, pretty much jungle. It feels a lot like a forest, but they have monkeys, palm trees, lizards and even elephant visits, which upgrade the status to "jungle". Our host is Sabarmatee, who has been here since the early 90's. She is the most knowledgeable about the day to day operations. There are plants and flowers and lizards and insects everywhere, though Sabarmatee says that there are not many flowers around now. I started taking pictures of individual varieties and captured 29, and I know I missed a few.
The atmosphere here is amazing. Our time here is spent talking and learning about their activities, resting and reading, walking through the properties fields and forests and jungles, and eating delicious organic meals. My stomach has been settled by an Ayurvedic cure of nutmeg and rest, and my subsequent gas was alleviated by another Ayurvedic remedy, chewing on ginger. Our room is simple and aqdequate - beds, mosquito nets, and a table, with the bathroom facilities in an enclosed back yard. There is a meeting room, near the kitchen, a library, a cattle pen, and a dormotory which can host 60 or so people overnight. Most of all, it is the caring nature of the people of Sambhav who make it special.
The journey here was certainly worth the effort.
We found this description in a booklet about SRI in Orissa which explains their history:
This NGO is the brainchild of Prof. Rashamohan who undertook the ardent task of planning out cultivation of trees and crops in its campus which was considered to be absolutely unfit and infertile. So much so that the agriculture scientists and foresters told him that his plan is Asambhav (impossible). Today the sprawling diversity all over the palce of flora and fauna is the result of the determination to turn the Asambhav into Sambhav (possible).
Today the place is very, very green, pretty much jungle. It feels a lot like a forest, but they have monkeys, palm trees, lizards and even elephant visits, which upgrade the status to "jungle". Our host is Sabarmatee, who has been here since the early 90's. She is the most knowledgeable about the day to day operations. There are plants and flowers and lizards and insects everywhere, though Sabarmatee says that there are not many flowers around now. I started taking pictures of individual varieties and captured 29, and I know I missed a few.
The atmosphere here is amazing. Our time here is spent talking and learning about their activities, resting and reading, walking through the properties fields and forests and jungles, and eating delicious organic meals. My stomach has been settled by an Ayurvedic cure of nutmeg and rest, and my subsequent gas was alleviated by another Ayurvedic remedy, chewing on ginger. Our room is simple and aqdequate - beds, mosquito nets, and a table, with the bathroom facilities in an enclosed back yard. There is a meeting room, near the kitchen, a library, a cattle pen, and a dormotory which can host 60 or so people overnight. Most of all, it is the caring nature of the people of Sambhav who make it special.
The journey here was certainly worth the effort.
7/04/2009
Our trip to Orissa began with leaving work early. Everyone else was staying until the normal time, so we took the bus back instead of the usual Jeep. The bus was much more crowded, and Dolly and I sat across from a man with ears so hairy, it looked like he had taped a mustache to his earlobes. We were right behind the driver, whose horn played a grating four note jingle very loudly. The horns here are operated by switch, so the driver can just turn it on and leave it on.
We check out of the hotel, and hired two autos to take us an our luggage to the JSS office, where we were leaving everything except for what we needed on our trip. The auto drivers did not know exactly where the address was, so we drove around the neighborhood for a little while, and during this time, a large cow came charging at us, irritated by something, the first time we had seen this happen.
Eventually we made it to the station with Jacob, who we have learned does not just travel with a simple bag (on our first meeting, his travel bag had been in the hotel by (in?) the train station - we had misinterpreted what he meant by "staying at the train station"). He bought us some sweet-lime juices and I started to drink mine, as Dolly hestitated. After questioning its freshness and origins, we found out it was fresh squeezed juice, some salt, and some ice, which carries all the dangers of the local water. Being a gentleman, and not scared of a little ice, I drank mine and Dolly's.
The next morning this proved to be bad idea. We were travelling "sleeper class" which is the coach of India's railways. Un-air conditioned, 3 tier sleeper compartments, cheap prices, and dirty cars. Luckily the bathrooms were not as filthy as I had feared, and I was able to find some relief from the bacteria carried by the ice, which had taken up lodging in my intestines.
We had fruit for breakfast, a banana and a local variety of mango. Jacob showed us how to eat this small mango by squishing it to a pulp inside its own skin, and then biting off the end and drinking down the juice inside. The countryside was green and lush with fresh rain, and we saw people bathing in rivers and ponds, and farmers and their bullocks plowing fields before the sun got too high.
The train, which was due to arrive at 6:30 AM arrived at 1:30 in the PM. The priority on the rails is the large freight trains carrying minerals for multinational corporations. Whether officially or unofficially, the money invovled ensures smoothest operation. The second priortiy goes to local trains, as they stop at all the small stations, and we are told that if they get too delayed, the locals will beat up the stationmaster. That leaves us, the long-distance passenger rail getting stuck sitting motionless on the tracks for hours at a time.
After lunch, we took an auto from the train station to the bus station. The train station is never next to the bus station. We were in the capital of Orissa, Bhubaneshwar, and as drove, we noticed an order that we had not seen before in India. Roads were wide and intersections well marked. There was almost no honking. Trashbins lined the roads. We were told that this was a planned city, and had recently been made the capital. This seemed like a great idea, until Jacob explained that the great expense undertaken to plan such a city could have been better used to address the poverty and malnutrion in a state with a large rural and tribal population.
As it had recently rained, the bus station parking lot was a bug puddle of mud. This bus was not as comfortable as the last bus we had been on, and on top of that it was packed even more full. Luckily, this was not an overnight bus, though we had a 4 hour ride scheduled. Dolly and I sat next to each other, and Jacob was to be sitting behind us, but there was a fuss over the window seat with a slow moving gentleman who had already sat down, and Jacob took a window seat on the other side of the bus.
The bus did not have AC, and my stomach still felt ill. We stopped several times to pick up more passangers, to get gas, so the driver could eat, and we were further delayed by a festival during which a 12-year old boy was crushed and killed under a large ceremonial cart (we later found out), and the combination of celebration and tragedy created a human roadblock.
We got off the still-crowded bus in apparently the middle of nowhere, where we were greeted by three members Sambhav, the Ashram where we will be staying. One of them was Sabarmatee, who is the leader. I'm not sure what kind of organizational structure there is, and if that is her proper title. Though we expected to arrive around lunchtime, we arrived in time for a late dinner. We were taken to a guest room, where we spent a few minutes before taking an excellent dinner at the main gathering area of the Ashram, and we talked a little but until we went to bed and slept very soundly.
We check out of the hotel, and hired two autos to take us an our luggage to the JSS office, where we were leaving everything except for what we needed on our trip. The auto drivers did not know exactly where the address was, so we drove around the neighborhood for a little while, and during this time, a large cow came charging at us, irritated by something, the first time we had seen this happen.
Eventually we made it to the station with Jacob, who we have learned does not just travel with a simple bag (on our first meeting, his travel bag had been in the hotel by (in?) the train station - we had misinterpreted what he meant by "staying at the train station"). He bought us some sweet-lime juices and I started to drink mine, as Dolly hestitated. After questioning its freshness and origins, we found out it was fresh squeezed juice, some salt, and some ice, which carries all the dangers of the local water. Being a gentleman, and not scared of a little ice, I drank mine and Dolly's.
The next morning this proved to be bad idea. We were travelling "sleeper class" which is the coach of India's railways. Un-air conditioned, 3 tier sleeper compartments, cheap prices, and dirty cars. Luckily the bathrooms were not as filthy as I had feared, and I was able to find some relief from the bacteria carried by the ice, which had taken up lodging in my intestines.
We had fruit for breakfast, a banana and a local variety of mango. Jacob showed us how to eat this small mango by squishing it to a pulp inside its own skin, and then biting off the end and drinking down the juice inside. The countryside was green and lush with fresh rain, and we saw people bathing in rivers and ponds, and farmers and their bullocks plowing fields before the sun got too high.
The train, which was due to arrive at 6:30 AM arrived at 1:30 in the PM. The priority on the rails is the large freight trains carrying minerals for multinational corporations. Whether officially or unofficially, the money invovled ensures smoothest operation. The second priortiy goes to local trains, as they stop at all the small stations, and we are told that if they get too delayed, the locals will beat up the stationmaster. That leaves us, the long-distance passenger rail getting stuck sitting motionless on the tracks for hours at a time.
After lunch, we took an auto from the train station to the bus station. The train station is never next to the bus station. We were in the capital of Orissa, Bhubaneshwar, and as drove, we noticed an order that we had not seen before in India. Roads were wide and intersections well marked. There was almost no honking. Trashbins lined the roads. We were told that this was a planned city, and had recently been made the capital. This seemed like a great idea, until Jacob explained that the great expense undertaken to plan such a city could have been better used to address the poverty and malnutrion in a state with a large rural and tribal population.
As it had recently rained, the bus station parking lot was a bug puddle of mud. This bus was not as comfortable as the last bus we had been on, and on top of that it was packed even more full. Luckily, this was not an overnight bus, though we had a 4 hour ride scheduled. Dolly and I sat next to each other, and Jacob was to be sitting behind us, but there was a fuss over the window seat with a slow moving gentleman who had already sat down, and Jacob took a window seat on the other side of the bus.
The bus did not have AC, and my stomach still felt ill. We stopped several times to pick up more passangers, to get gas, so the driver could eat, and we were further delayed by a festival during which a 12-year old boy was crushed and killed under a large ceremonial cart (we later found out), and the combination of celebration and tragedy created a human roadblock.
We got off the still-crowded bus in apparently the middle of nowhere, where we were greeted by three members Sambhav, the Ashram where we will be staying. One of them was Sabarmatee, who is the leader. I'm not sure what kind of organizational structure there is, and if that is her proper title. Though we expected to arrive around lunchtime, we arrived in time for a late dinner. We were taken to a guest room, where we spent a few minutes before taking an excellent dinner at the main gathering area of the Ashram, and we talked a little but until we went to bed and slept very soundly.
7/02/2009
The first look I had of Bilaspur was the train station, never the most flattering part of a city. At the end of the platform, a few shabbily dressed men appeared to be gambling by candlelight, and I was worried as to what kind of place we were going to. As we pulled into the central part of the station, it started looking more normal, though definitely smaller and less affluent than the larger station in Nagpur. However, this meant there were no coolies harassing us.
As we drove into the city, I noticed that the auto rickshaws of Hyderabad had been replaced by bicycle rickshaws. The center of town is more like the outlying neighborhoods of Hyderabad, and it lacks the higher end shops, but we never shopped at those anyway. The major intersections are all large rotaries with a monument of some kind in the center, usually a statue or fountain, and I'm sure I'll soon recognize as navigational landmarks.
The city has about 500,000 people, so it is of decent size, but it is in a very rural part of the country. Just across the railroad tracks is village life, with mud buildings, farmers' fields and animals wandering. There doesn't seem to be a lot of money in Bilaspur, and the largest industry is steel, as a result of some kind of arrangement mutually beneficial to the mill owners and politicians.
The neighborhood where the doctors live, and we will hopefully be living, is nice. We are told that it is a neighborhood "popular among the middle class - people with jobs" and so it is hard to find a flat. I think we will be able to make a nice home here once we have a more permanent place to stay.
As we drove into the city, I noticed that the auto rickshaws of Hyderabad had been replaced by bicycle rickshaws. The center of town is more like the outlying neighborhoods of Hyderabad, and it lacks the higher end shops, but we never shopped at those anyway. The major intersections are all large rotaries with a monument of some kind in the center, usually a statue or fountain, and I'm sure I'll soon recognize as navigational landmarks.
The city has about 500,000 people, so it is of decent size, but it is in a very rural part of the country. Just across the railroad tracks is village life, with mud buildings, farmers' fields and animals wandering. There doesn't seem to be a lot of money in Bilaspur, and the largest industry is steel, as a result of some kind of arrangement mutually beneficial to the mill owners and politicians.
The neighborhood where the doctors live, and we will hopefully be living, is nice. We are told that it is a neighborhood "popular among the middle class - people with jobs" and so it is hard to find a flat. I think we will be able to make a nice home here once we have a more permanent place to stay.
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