Khamaghani Readers,
All is well on this side of the world. I hope you all are well too.
Dragoman Truck,Mr.Dan Ms.Helen and the Sambhali Jodhpur project participants
Sambhali Trust:
12 new girls have joined in , they are nice and friendly, the senior participants are co-operating very well, Ms.Fayette is teaching paper masche puppets and English,Ms. Meghan teaches English and assists with art and craft workshops. It all looks quite busy nowadays and girls are enjoying it. After been on the pilgrimage my bond with the senior girls is more stronger. They have got to know me better and I have got to know them better. Ms.Helen Barley is interviewing very high officials on Jodhpur for her thesis and is working on a sambhali progress report.
Usha-Helen-Soniya-Kiran-Kajal
I arrived in Jodhpur after a very long and exhausting journey from the UK , so I was relieved that Govind was waiting to greet me at Jodhpur Airport
The Durag Niwas guesthouse is run by Govind and his family, therefore they are always very friendly and hospitable always asking if everything is ok and if there is anything I need. I met the girls of the Empowerment project the next morning when they arrived- I could hear them singing upstairs in the project teaching and crafts room. As I am getting to know the young women, I can see that they have such friendly, caring and independent personalities with incredible talents for art, crafts, sewing and design work, which are then sold in the Sambhali shop within the guesthouse. Also, the girls are being taught basic English to give them more opportunities for the future, and it must be said that all the girls are so enthusiastic about the education they receive at the project, they are thirsty for knowledge and information, so I am glad that in my time here I can pass on my knowledge to them and to help strengthen their identities and self-esteem.
I am involved in the empowerment project in order to research and identify the issues that Dalit women face inIndia Jodhpur
I am therefore looking forward to the two weeks I am spending here, and my most important first impression is that Sambhali Trust is an extremely worthwhile, beneficial NGO which is selflessly working towards empowering the women of Indian society who are, without education, powerless.
Family:-
Aunty from Jaislmer is visiting for few days therefore all the near , far relatives in Jodhpur are coming to visit, house is full of family visitors, it is nice to have members of family visiting,Today we were invited to have lunch with our cousins next door, it was wonderful having a good family get together after some time. Bunty after falling into(slipping of Motorcycle) accident is doing well and has recovered from his thigh injury and has come back to work. All rest are wonderful.
Thanks for taking time to read our latest post!
All is well on this side of the world. I hope you all are well too.
Dragoman Truck,Mr.Dan Ms.Helen and the Sambhali Jodhpur project participantsSambhali Trust:
12 new girls have joined in , they are nice and friendly, the senior participants are co-operating very well, Ms.Fayette is teaching paper masche puppets and English,Ms. Meghan teaches English and assists with art and craft workshops. It all looks quite busy nowadays and girls are enjoying it. After been on the pilgrimage my bond with the senior girls is more stronger. They have got to know me better and I have got to know them better. Ms.Helen Barley is interviewing very high officials on Jodhpur for her thesis and is working on a sambhali progress report.
First impressions report from Volunteer Ms.Fayette Fox and Picture
“Try to have no expectations.” Volunteering is never what you think it will be. Sure enough, rather than teaching English and crafts in a classroom in Jodhpur, I spent the first week of September walking in the desert. Most mornings we woke while it was still dark and walked a few kilometers before sunrise. After sun up, in a sort of plodding race against the clock, we tried to cover as much ground as possible before 11am when the heat became unbearable.
Each year over a million Indians take part in the Ramdevra Pilgrimage. They walk from all over Rajasthan (and sometimes further afield) to the temple where Baba Ramdev Ji, a saint and incarnation of Krishnu, is buried.
Our entourage consisted of twenty Sambhali participants, Govind, my fellow three volunteers, my partner Peter and a fabulous support team of a few drivers and cooks. Hundreds of thousands of people traversed the same route that week. We walked 165km in just five days. One day we walked more than the distance of a marathon, only to wake the following morning and walk another 30km.
It was exhausting, exhilarating, hauntingly beautiful and remarkable.
We followed the road past pastel scrubland and through rural villages. Lunch, often in the company of goats and transfixed children, consisted of delicious dhals and curries. We relaxed in the shade or washed ourselves and our single change of clothes at water pumps. Around 3pm, though the heat was still powerful, we were able to start walking again. We exchanged warm greetings with old women, families and children, all on foot. We had started our journeys from different towns, but we were all headed to the same place. As the sun grew low in the sky, the colours of the Thar Desert began to intensify. This was one of my favourite times of day. In terms of sheer beauty it was rivaled only by the vast, starry night sky.
We five foreigners were apparently the first to ever make the pilgrimage in its five-hundred-odd year history. It's hard to believe, but everyone we met enroute attested to this, including a kind doctor who had made the trip for the past fifteen years. Consequently we received a lot of attention, both from the media (we were interviewed by a number of newspapers and TV stations) and from the people we encountered on the way. Although most people were simply curious, sometimes we were given a little too much attention. Once when we stopped in a tent for chai, a crowd gathered around us and a few men leaned so far in to get a better look that they nearly fell on top of me. In these instances Govind and the girls snapped into action and shooed the men away with wonderful Hindi witticisms such as, “Yes, they drink tea too just like you,” before telling them to get lost and give us some privacy.
It was this protectiveness from the girls which I found particularly endearing. Although they had only met me a few days before, they were brilliant at carefully guiding us through crowds and loudly telling off leering young men. I was grateful to them for helping me navigate this at times bewildering environment. Also I was delighted by their boldness. These teenage girls never hesitated to stand up for us and showed phenomenal strength of character. Sambhali aims to empower girls and women. It is clear to me it has been doing its job.
“Jai Baba Re!” is the religious greeting of the pilgrimage. The response is an echo of the same emphatic greeting. We must have said it a thousand times. For reasons of propriety, young men do not say it to girls and young women, but instead respectfully ignore them. As Westerners however, we were considered fair game. I had noticed that the tone sometimes felt rude, but I hadn't understood why. A Sambhali girl took me by the hand to help. When we passed someone she would acknowledge, she squeezed my hand and we both gave a warm, “Jai Baba Re!”. Women of all ages illicited a squeeze as did families, young children and old men. We ignored boys from around twelve to twenty-five. Twenty-five to thirty years-old men sometimes were addressed, sometimes not. This girl took something confusing and turned it into a game. I can't think of a time when I've been so literally taken by the hand and shown the ropes.
Over the course of the pilgrimage the contingent of Westerners fell foul of a variety of ailments from massive blisters and sore legs to hurt knees, knotted stomachs, sunburns and colds. We loudly discussed our latest debilitating pain and generally moaned a lot. The Sambhali girls on the other hand put us all to shame. The walking wasn't easy for them either, but they didn't complain, at least not to us. Additionally many were fasting, eating only one small meal a day. The girls were stoic, but at times I worried for their health, particularly when one started throwing up. Dehydration in a desert is a serious cause for concern. She agreed to drink rehydration salts and fortunately was alright.
Incidents like these made it clear that although we were walking to Ramdevra together, we were on a very different path. For our little group of largely secular foreigners, it was about taking part in a distinctively Indian experience, spending time with each other and the girls and testing ourselves physically. For the girls and indeed the million other Ramdevra pilgrims, it was about faith. This was the largest display of faith we had ever seen. Although we were taking part, we also stood apart.
This was clearest to me when we finally reached the temple at Ramdevra. At this point everyone was exhausted, including the girls. We walked through the town barefoot, sidestepping mud and filth. Due to Govind's connections, we bypassed the hours' long queue and went straight into the temple. Inside we were whisked from one room to another. It was frenzied and confusing. I remember a baby's cradle and people offering alms for a personal wish. Immediately outside by a holy lake we splashed ourselves with water. Our newly painted bindis ran red down our noses. A true religious fervor overtook the girls. Their aches and pains forgotten they formed a circle and began chanting. Yelling. Singing. Suddenly I really was just a spectator. They had experienced something I can't understand. The temple, the lake and indeed the previous five days of walking meant something to them of which I was not a part.
We drove to Setrawa, Govind's hometown and the village where Sambhali's other project is based. It felt strange and good not walking. Utterly exhausted we laid our our blankets on the roof of the Setrawa school. One last night sleeping under the stars.
Each year over a million Indians take part in the Ramdevra Pilgrimage. They walk from all over Rajasthan (and sometimes further afield) to the temple where Baba Ramdev Ji, a saint and incarnation of Krishnu, is buried.
We followed the road past pastel scrubland and through rural villages. Lunch, often in the company of goats and transfixed children, consisted of delicious dhals and curries. We relaxed in the shade or washed ourselves and our single change of clothes at water pumps. Around 3pm, though the heat was still powerful, we were able to start walking again. We exchanged warm greetings with old women, families and children, all on foot. We had started our journeys from different towns, but we were all headed to the same place. As the sun grew low in the sky, the colours of the Thar Desert began to intensify. This was one of my favourite times of day. In terms of sheer beauty it was rivaled only by the vast, starry night sky.
It was this protectiveness from the girls which I found particularly endearing. Although they had only met me a few days before, they were brilliant at carefully guiding us through crowds and loudly telling off leering young men. I was grateful to them for helping me navigate this at times bewildering environment. Also I was delighted by their boldness. These teenage girls never hesitated to stand up for us and showed phenomenal strength of character. Sambhali aims to empower girls and women. It is clear to me it has been doing its job.
“Jai Baba Re!” is the religious greeting of the pilgrimage. The response is an echo of the same emphatic greeting. We must have said it a thousand times. For reasons of propriety, young men do not say it to girls and young women, but instead respectfully ignore them. As Westerners however, we were considered fair game. I had noticed that the tone sometimes felt rude, but I hadn't understood why. A Sambhali girl took me by the hand to help. When we passed someone she would acknowledge, she squeezed my hand and we both gave a warm, “Jai Baba Re!”. Women of all ages illicited a squeeze as did families, young children and old men. We ignored boys from around twelve to twenty-five. Twenty-five to thirty years-old men sometimes were addressed, sometimes not. This girl took something confusing and turned it into a game. I can't think of a time when I've been so literally taken by the hand and shown the ropes.
Over the course of the pilgrimage the contingent of Westerners fell foul of a variety of ailments from massive blisters and sore legs to hurt knees, knotted stomachs, sunburns and colds. We loudly discussed our latest debilitating pain and generally moaned a lot. The Sambhali girls on the other hand put us all to shame. The walking wasn't easy for them either, but they didn't complain, at least not to us. Additionally many were fasting, eating only one small meal a day. The girls were stoic, but at times I worried for their health, particularly when one started throwing up. Dehydration in a desert is a serious cause for concern. She agreed to drink rehydration salts and fortunately was alright.
Incidents like these made it clear that although we were walking to Ramdevra together, we were on a very different path. For our little group of largely secular foreigners, it was about taking part in a distinctively Indian experience, spending time with each other and the girls and testing ourselves physically. For the girls and indeed the million other Ramdevra pilgrims, it was about faith. This was the largest display of faith we had ever seen. Although we were taking part, we also stood apart.
We drove to Setrawa, Govind's hometown and the village where Sambhali's other project is based. It felt strange and good not walking. Utterly exhausted we laid our our blankets on the roof of the Setrawa school. One last night sleeping under the stars.
Ms.Helen's first impression report and picture
Usha-Helen-Soniya-Kiran-Kajal
First Impressions
The Durag Niwas guesthouse is run by Govind and his family, therefore they are always very friendly and hospitable always asking if everything is ok and if there is anything I need. I met the girls of the Empowerment project the next morning when they arrived- I could hear them singing upstairs in the project teaching and crafts room. As I am getting to know the young women, I can see that they have such friendly, caring and independent personalities with incredible talents for art, crafts, sewing and design work, which are then sold in the Sambhali shop within the guesthouse. Also, the girls are being taught basic English to give them more opportunities for the future, and it must be said that all the girls are so enthusiastic about the education they receive at the project, they are thirsty for knowledge and information, so I am glad that in my time here I can pass on my knowledge to them and to help strengthen their identities and self-esteem.
I am involved in the empowerment project in order to research and identify the issues that Dalit women face in
I am therefore looking forward to the two weeks I am spending here, and my most important first impression is that Sambhali Trust is an extremely worthwhile, beneficial NGO which is selflessly working towards empowering the women of Indian society who are, without education, powerless.
Aunty from Jaislmer is visiting for few days therefore all the near , far relatives in Jodhpur are coming to visit, house is full of family visitors, it is nice to have members of family visiting,Today we were invited to have lunch with our cousins next door, it was wonderful having a good family get together after some time. Bunty after falling into(slipping of Motorcycle) accident is doing well and has recovered from his thigh injury and has come back to work. All rest are wonderful.
