Sadhana Village
A tsunami hit India, and a lot of people are suffering. I'm fine. At this point, I'm not planning to go to the southeast coast - I may change my mind as things develop. If anyone is concerned, I don't know what you can do except send money. Here are a few websites that are reliable:
http://pmindia.nic.in/relief.htm - the site for the Prime Minister's Relief Fund
http://www.cry.org/abtcry/campaigncmc.htm - set up by CRY, whose Mumbai branch I visited, approved (see 'Year-end' post)
Excerpts
A. Drum Classes: Situated in a beautiful valley of farms and villages 40km outside of Pune, Sadhana Village is a home for mentally challenged adults. I stayed here for 2.5 weeks, teaching hands-on drumming. The people really loved it, and I learned a lot about helping through teaching, as well as the human relationship to rhythm. I also generally helped out, spending time doing various things with each of the 'special friends'.
B. In the meantime: In love with the surrounding area, I climbed mountains and explored the neighboring villages. I learned firsthand about growing rice, wheat, and sugar cane, irrigation, and milk collection/processing. I got to know the local tabla maker, tailor (for my christmas present to myself), and blacksmith.
C. Santosh, Siddhi, and Sakshi: This couple, with their 1.5 yr old girl Sakshi, worked as 'house-parents' at Sadhana Village. At first I befriended them and helped them to get a break from the 24-hour parenting of a dozen often-troubling 'special friends'. It turns out they had to leave Sadhana, but didn't know where to go. I offered what I could: moral support, advice, and Pune contacts. I also helped them with their astronomical rent deposit, as a sort of interest-free loan. An American friend, Chloe, made a watercolor painting for me to give to an Indian child, "with a great big smile". I gave this to Sakshi.
D. Tightening Connections: As I prepare to leave the Pune area, I experienced a pulling together of many of the connections I've made here. All my newfound friends are meeting each other. Subash Thorat now has a job and a big enthusiastic smile.
Elaborations
A. Drum Classes:
I have so many funny, sweet, intriguing, or disturbing anecdotes about my stay with these 'special friends'. But I'm not going to tell them, because out of context they only have 'huh' value, and misrepresent these wonderful people.
In college I developed a lesson plan for teaching hands-on drumming to a diverse group of willing folks, and here at Sadhana I had a chance to use it. I had to really understand the essence of what I was trying to teach, in order that I could say (or play) the right thing at the right time to the right person. My ideas of conventional progress and learning had to be adapted to these unique people. In the end, most of them enjoyed themselves - they gave complements, hugs, asked "When are we drumming again, Dada?" (Dada means 'big brother'; Luke is tough for the Indian tongue), and "Can we drum sooner than that?". It's such a thrill, seeing everyone's unique internal world be expressed, in some imperfect way, through sound. Some can't handle the drumming, but get moving in a rhythmic way that you can tell feels good. Some just get up and dance.
I realized that I prefer teaching when I'm not a 'teacher'. Outside of the classes, some guys came into my room to listen to my tabla practice, which became spontaneous lessons, which became daily lessons. At random times, drumming came up and we would go with it - spontaneous singing, vocal rhythms, or dancing. These people could teach us all about spontanaeity and seizing the day.
At each of the classes I was helped by Chinda Maushi, a wonderfully energetic worker at Sadhana, who has a good sense of rhythm. She learned all the exercises I taught, tricks I used. I also wrote them all down, as well as suggestions for the next steps. Chinda really liked the electronic music I played, as part of a mini-presentation of pictures and clips of rhythms from around the world.
Similarly, I prefer helping when I'm not a 'helper'. I fit into the daily routine here - talked with people that wanted to talk together, walked with people that wanted to walk together, listened to people that wanted to be listened to, sat silently with people that never spoke or were taking a break.
This experience was a wonderful complement to all the 'systemic' help I'd been thinking about. Here I just focused on the basic human part of being kind and helpful, without expectations, efficiency, or intention. 'Sadhana' means service as a spiritual path.
On the last day, New Years day, we said goodbye to Luke, hello to the new year, and heard the news (a week late) of the tsunami. I had decided to give Rs. 3000 ($71) to Sadhana, on behalf of my friends in America. The house-mothers wanted to send some money to the tsunami victims, so some of my (our) gift will go to that cause.
special friends, digging the present
Ravi playing, Ashokbhai singing
B. In the meantime:
I climbed mountains that had no names, and no trails but hundreds of small trails from thousands of years of wandering villagers and goats. The land and the people seemed in a sort of harmony; working together, at least more. I shared stories of my travels with many locals, and in exchange learned so many 'hows' and 'whys'. Us Americans have enough money to travel anywhere in the world, but we don't know how to make butter or sugar. I learned how to make butter and sugar last week. And watched them harvest sugar cane, and ate it raw. I can give these people the opportunity to ask questions about other places in the world, and they can give me the opportunity to ask questions about rice (and see and touch!).
the north side
the small white dot in line with the two plants is Sadhana Village
C. Santosh, Siddhi, Sakshi:
One of the 'house-parents', Santosh is a genuinely good person - the kind where you can tell as soon as you meet him. He and his wife, Siddhi, work at Sadhana, and have a 1.5 yr old girl Sakshi. We became friends. On the day I decided to stay here for two more weeks, he handed me a plant sapling and led me to a hole in the ground. It was a mango tree. Together with little Sakshi, I was instructed to fill the dirt and give water. Some people said some prayers, and Santosh said, "I pray that this tree and my girl grow to be as tall as you, Luke."
The next day, when the special friends were having their evening chai, Santosh and I played ping pong. We kept playing, until it was so dark I was playing more by sound than sight. (The electricity in the valley wasn't on that day). Afterwards he said, "Whenever I have stress, I play table tennis". Then he told me that he and Siddhi were being kicked out, because of disagreements with the other house-mothers. He had been kicked out of his father's home too, and didn't know where to go. He asked me for advice, but I had little to give. I could only sympathize and play ping pong.
Eventually, he found a job and a room in Pune. But they wanted an astronomical Rs. 13,000 ($310) for a deposit (evolution of the indentured servant). His job would make Rs. 2200 ($52) a month, and his life savings was Rs. 5000 ($119) (at Sadhana they didn't pay the workers, only provided their basic needs). The hardest part for me was getting him to accept money from me - he wouldn't even let me bring him chai when he was busy. But he didn't have any other options, and I explained that I was here to help people when I could. My interest-free loan of Rs. 10,000 ($238) came from my personal savings, because it's so much and it springs from the personal connection I made with that family. It's also a promise to find him again some day, in three years or thirty.
In America, my friend Chloe gave me a small watercolor painting she made, with the instructions to give it to a child, with a great big smile. I gave it to Sakshi. We all smiled great big smiles, except for Sakshi, because we had made her put down the kitten that she likes to carry around by the neck.
Santosh, Siddhi, and Sakshi with the watercolor postcard
Sakshi with her favorite kitten
D. Tightening Connections:
I met Subash Thorat (the man with the new bicycle) again - he now has a job as a mason, and is involved with the labor organizations for Dalits. He's called my home in New York a few times - first to tell my family thank you and Happy Diwali, then to try to get in touch with me to tell me about his job. He even had a letter written and sent to New York. My parents were surprised, thrilled, and confused. In an incredible feat of modern technology, I saw a digital snap of the letter, recorded the address (in Hindi), and used it to find him in Pune. He bought me lunch. I don't know to what extent his bicycle helped him get the job, but what matters is the positive connection we made.
I visited Mira again (the Swarthmore grad who immigrated to India in the '60s). She's befriended Subash because he's called her so many times, looking for me. She's going to try to hire a plumber through Subash's union contacts. Mira visited Sadhana Village, and may collaborate with them in creating posters for her organization. We went together to chat with the director of Sadhana Village. It turns out that Mira is an Ashoka Fellow, a 'social entrepreneur'. Mira and Sarah (the young Pune NGO worker) have been in email contact. Sarah came to visit Sadhana, and may get involved in their village women's workshops. Santosh's family is going to invite Mira for tea once they're moved in.
From here I'm leaving for Darjeeling, on the other side of India, in the mountains. Having been based in Pune since mid-November, leaving makes me aware of the many good connections I've made and things I've shared.
Subash Thorat, on the job
Mira and her 'children'
http://pmindia.nic.in/relief.htm - the site for the Prime Minister's Relief Fund
http://www.cry.org/abtcry/campaigncmc.htm - set up by CRY, whose Mumbai branch I visited, approved (see 'Year-end' post)
Excerpts
A. Drum Classes: Situated in a beautiful valley of farms and villages 40km outside of Pune, Sadhana Village is a home for mentally challenged adults. I stayed here for 2.5 weeks, teaching hands-on drumming. The people really loved it, and I learned a lot about helping through teaching, as well as the human relationship to rhythm. I also generally helped out, spending time doing various things with each of the 'special friends'.
B. In the meantime: In love with the surrounding area, I climbed mountains and explored the neighboring villages. I learned firsthand about growing rice, wheat, and sugar cane, irrigation, and milk collection/processing. I got to know the local tabla maker, tailor (for my christmas present to myself), and blacksmith.
C. Santosh, Siddhi, and Sakshi: This couple, with their 1.5 yr old girl Sakshi, worked as 'house-parents' at Sadhana Village. At first I befriended them and helped them to get a break from the 24-hour parenting of a dozen often-troubling 'special friends'. It turns out they had to leave Sadhana, but didn't know where to go. I offered what I could: moral support, advice, and Pune contacts. I also helped them with their astronomical rent deposit, as a sort of interest-free loan. An American friend, Chloe, made a watercolor painting for me to give to an Indian child, "with a great big smile". I gave this to Sakshi.
D. Tightening Connections: As I prepare to leave the Pune area, I experienced a pulling together of many of the connections I've made here. All my newfound friends are meeting each other. Subash Thorat now has a job and a big enthusiastic smile.
Elaborations
A. Drum Classes:
I have so many funny, sweet, intriguing, or disturbing anecdotes about my stay with these 'special friends'. But I'm not going to tell them, because out of context they only have 'huh' value, and misrepresent these wonderful people.
In college I developed a lesson plan for teaching hands-on drumming to a diverse group of willing folks, and here at Sadhana I had a chance to use it. I had to really understand the essence of what I was trying to teach, in order that I could say (or play) the right thing at the right time to the right person. My ideas of conventional progress and learning had to be adapted to these unique people. In the end, most of them enjoyed themselves - they gave complements, hugs, asked "When are we drumming again, Dada?" (Dada means 'big brother'; Luke is tough for the Indian tongue), and "Can we drum sooner than that?". It's such a thrill, seeing everyone's unique internal world be expressed, in some imperfect way, through sound. Some can't handle the drumming, but get moving in a rhythmic way that you can tell feels good. Some just get up and dance.
I realized that I prefer teaching when I'm not a 'teacher'. Outside of the classes, some guys came into my room to listen to my tabla practice, which became spontaneous lessons, which became daily lessons. At random times, drumming came up and we would go with it - spontaneous singing, vocal rhythms, or dancing. These people could teach us all about spontanaeity and seizing the day.
At each of the classes I was helped by Chinda Maushi, a wonderfully energetic worker at Sadhana, who has a good sense of rhythm. She learned all the exercises I taught, tricks I used. I also wrote them all down, as well as suggestions for the next steps. Chinda really liked the electronic music I played, as part of a mini-presentation of pictures and clips of rhythms from around the world.
Similarly, I prefer helping when I'm not a 'helper'. I fit into the daily routine here - talked with people that wanted to talk together, walked with people that wanted to walk together, listened to people that wanted to be listened to, sat silently with people that never spoke or were taking a break.
This experience was a wonderful complement to all the 'systemic' help I'd been thinking about. Here I just focused on the basic human part of being kind and helpful, without expectations, efficiency, or intention. 'Sadhana' means service as a spiritual path.
On the last day, New Years day, we said goodbye to Luke, hello to the new year, and heard the news (a week late) of the tsunami. I had decided to give Rs. 3000 ($71) to Sadhana, on behalf of my friends in America. The house-mothers wanted to send some money to the tsunami victims, so some of my (our) gift will go to that cause.
special friends, digging the present
Ravi playing, Ashokbhai singing
B. In the meantime:
I climbed mountains that had no names, and no trails but hundreds of small trails from thousands of years of wandering villagers and goats. The land and the people seemed in a sort of harmony; working together, at least more. I shared stories of my travels with many locals, and in exchange learned so many 'hows' and 'whys'. Us Americans have enough money to travel anywhere in the world, but we don't know how to make butter or sugar. I learned how to make butter and sugar last week. And watched them harvest sugar cane, and ate it raw. I can give these people the opportunity to ask questions about other places in the world, and they can give me the opportunity to ask questions about rice (and see and touch!).
the north side
the small white dot in line with the two plants is Sadhana Village
C. Santosh, Siddhi, Sakshi:
One of the 'house-parents', Santosh is a genuinely good person - the kind where you can tell as soon as you meet him. He and his wife, Siddhi, work at Sadhana, and have a 1.5 yr old girl Sakshi. We became friends. On the day I decided to stay here for two more weeks, he handed me a plant sapling and led me to a hole in the ground. It was a mango tree. Together with little Sakshi, I was instructed to fill the dirt and give water. Some people said some prayers, and Santosh said, "I pray that this tree and my girl grow to be as tall as you, Luke."
The next day, when the special friends were having their evening chai, Santosh and I played ping pong. We kept playing, until it was so dark I was playing more by sound than sight. (The electricity in the valley wasn't on that day). Afterwards he said, "Whenever I have stress, I play table tennis". Then he told me that he and Siddhi were being kicked out, because of disagreements with the other house-mothers. He had been kicked out of his father's home too, and didn't know where to go. He asked me for advice, but I had little to give. I could only sympathize and play ping pong.
Eventually, he found a job and a room in Pune. But they wanted an astronomical Rs. 13,000 ($310) for a deposit (evolution of the indentured servant). His job would make Rs. 2200 ($52) a month, and his life savings was Rs. 5000 ($119) (at Sadhana they didn't pay the workers, only provided their basic needs). The hardest part for me was getting him to accept money from me - he wouldn't even let me bring him chai when he was busy. But he didn't have any other options, and I explained that I was here to help people when I could. My interest-free loan of Rs. 10,000 ($238) came from my personal savings, because it's so much and it springs from the personal connection I made with that family. It's also a promise to find him again some day, in three years or thirty.
In America, my friend Chloe gave me a small watercolor painting she made, with the instructions to give it to a child, with a great big smile. I gave it to Sakshi. We all smiled great big smiles, except for Sakshi, because we had made her put down the kitten that she likes to carry around by the neck.
Santosh, Siddhi, and Sakshi with the watercolor postcard
Sakshi with her favorite kitten
D. Tightening Connections:
I met Subash Thorat (the man with the new bicycle) again - he now has a job as a mason, and is involved with the labor organizations for Dalits. He's called my home in New York a few times - first to tell my family thank you and Happy Diwali, then to try to get in touch with me to tell me about his job. He even had a letter written and sent to New York. My parents were surprised, thrilled, and confused. In an incredible feat of modern technology, I saw a digital snap of the letter, recorded the address (in Hindi), and used it to find him in Pune. He bought me lunch. I don't know to what extent his bicycle helped him get the job, but what matters is the positive connection we made.
I visited Mira again (the Swarthmore grad who immigrated to India in the '60s). She's befriended Subash because he's called her so many times, looking for me. She's going to try to hire a plumber through Subash's union contacts. Mira visited Sadhana Village, and may collaborate with them in creating posters for her organization. We went together to chat with the director of Sadhana Village. It turns out that Mira is an Ashoka Fellow, a 'social entrepreneur'. Mira and Sarah (the young Pune NGO worker) have been in email contact. Sarah came to visit Sadhana, and may get involved in their village women's workshops. Santosh's family is going to invite Mira for tea once they're moved in.
From here I'm leaving for Darjeeling, on the other side of India, in the mountains. Having been based in Pune since mid-November, leaving makes me aware of the many good connections I've made and things I've shared.
Subash Thorat, on the job
Mira and her 'children'
posted by Luke Wolcott at 3:14 AM
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