Third Notes From India (3rd Year)

March 18, 2004

Supporting apprentices in teaching their first Wenlido workshops from Rajasthan to Bangladesh!

 

March 2nd , 2004

I am writing you now from the train back eastward to Calcutta from Rajasthan (south of Pakistan). To experience the women outside the instructor trainings in their respective villages and towns doing Wenlido Workshops is quite exhilarating.

 

To be honest it is not all easy either. 8 to 12 hours on average preparation time for their first workshop. The first one on their own is no doubt the most difficult and nerve wrecking. I keep problem solving of how to use the time most effectively. Because after I leave the more senior instructors are on their own for this part of the process, and most of them have many other time commitments. During the workshop itself I am in the role of the supporter, discreetly taking notes for our feedback session after the workshop. Seeing the same mistakes repeated, hoping for them to do their own recoveries, not being sure when to jump in or not…are the most challenging aspects. Especially if I don’t have a ‘wenlidoka translator’.

 

Then as the eagerness and the excitement of the participants grow to learn the practical tools of protection, so do I get excited. They are appreciating to be offered platforms to speak on rape, sexuality, and domestic violence. Comprehending ‘victim mode’ that inner state of powerlessness is a totally new concept. Actively (thru exercises and role-plays) they are exited to learn effective verbal, and behavioral strategies to move out of that state and deal with those unrelenting, common everyday situations.

 

Rajasthan is known for group child marriages at age 3 to 7. The girls are usually made to move to their husband’s house after their first menstruation (imagine the horror of that day!).

 

My first such stops was in Renwal, a small village an hour outside of Jaipur. Both of the apprentices work for a village NGO (focused on violence on women and other human rights violations). Both come from poor, disempowering, violent backgrounds. M is 45 (she thinks, as she was never registered at birth). Education happened for her later in life. M. was married at 11. For the first year she told me, she was on the run every night, finding hiding places on the roof, with the goats, in the field. Sometimes her sister-in-law would hide her. Pregnant at 13 she expected the baby to be born out of her navel. The twins died. Her next baby died lying next to her because she did not cover her or know how to care for her. 2 boys and 1 girl survived. A relative’s death meant they had to feed the whole village. A big debt incurred. To recover some the husband gave her to another man for money (she did not know any of this). The 2 men had a fight and the other man moved into her house claiming her as wife. More years of torture and abuse until she joined a women’s empowerment group in her village. Eventually she gets him out and raises the daughter on her own (the boys are with the father). The man threatens and stalks her for 12 years until he suddenly becomes paralyzed.

 

M. amazes me with her strength, beauty, courage and pride. Her daughter is a strong, wonderful personality at age 20, going to college. M. still works in a village women’s organization. S. is 26; only 4 months prior to the instructor training did she manage to escape her brutally violent husband. Married at 15 she survived many broken limbs and fractured nose. She did not enter the apprenticeship program but is an assistant to M. Her transformation since these 2 months is remarkable. I first saw her with eyes downcast and face often covered, very quiet. Now her eyes shine with enthusiasm, she talks loud and has much to say. I enjoy her wonderful laughter and you should see her dance!! Many in the village confirm to me how much she has changed.

 

Women were asked to come to the workshop in kamese salwar (Punjabi suit) and not in their traditional ghangar choli (wide, long skirt, blouse and sari top that covers the face) because of the exercises. Therefore everyone was very self-conscious. This time the role-plays were more around herding goats and getting into ugly confrontations for being on the wrong piece of land.

 

Downstairs (of the pilgrim building we are in) is a large group of village women in a workshop on reproductive health. They are clad normally in their bright colors (in this all beige desert country) and huge nose rings tied to their ears. A group of maybe 50 women is gathered around me as they asked me how I could wear this Punjabi suit at my age! They tell me to talk to their project manager about a raise. They work long and hard days in the field for 100 rupies a month (3.5 $). They want me to take pictures of them eating bananas and holding metal teacups in their hands (as this being very special).

 

To pee we go in groups into the desert a ways. They laugh at me because urban/upper cast women don’t usually do this (little do they comprehend that I am neither in my country). In these villages 10 women are registered for our workshops and 20 arrive. Some walked 8 km thru the desert and then they were turned back (I didn’t know) because they were too late….

 

The noise and enthusiasm reaches the women downstairs and they are all eager to come for the next workshop (on time…).

 

The Jaipur workshop is put together thru Vivida, an organization working on issues of violence against women. S and S came from Delhi to teach this one. They are from last years training and one of them is close to certification after working very hard all year on their issues and challenges.

 

They are faced with big issues in the workshop. One 16-year-old girl was raped last year by her father, ran out of the house that night and was gang raped by 4 others. She filed a case and the boys are now out on bail. Then there were 2 sisters (15 and 18). Their elder sister committed suicide after repeated rapes by their father. Now the 18 year old filed a case against her father for raping her and put him behind bars. The younger sister is very mad because she wants her father back. She just doesn’t understand…. In the discussion on rape we come to know she does not know what it is (even though the word has been used of course). Very intense discussion and eye-opener for all of us.

 

All the younger girls had beautifully henna designed hands, after a ritual the day before in prayers for good husbands…

 

We also had 2 domestic violence survivors in the group. Songs, hugs and tears for good-byes and promises to keep in touch for further trainings.

 

The streets here are full with camel carts carrying heavy loads of cement, marble slats, etc. Construction sites particularly were busy with camels, coming, going, and waiting… I love watching their proud looking faces and their knock-kneed legs.

 

Now off to Ajmer, a 3 hour bus ride away. This evening I go with another apprentice Ma. to a famous Magic Show, packed with real tricks. A girl from the audience is put in hypnosis. As she is lying in mid air he draws a hoop around her to show there are no attachments! The climax of the evening: a mahout walks in with his elephant from the street right thru the theatre and up on the stage. Then both of them disappear within a flash of a second! I tell you, we should invite him (O.P.Sharma) to Street Fest in Nelson!!

 

Next workshop is residential in Pushkar, a holy tourist place Diane and I visited years ago. Very different to experience this town from this, more ‘real’ perspective. While eating bananas during the breaks we had to chase the monkeys away! These participants all work in a Human Rights Organization (NGO). Very smart women, most of them domestic violence survivors. One was thrown off a roof with a broken leg, left there to die. She is very enthused about the program and ready to join the next instructor training.

 

Except in Pushkar my nights were spent with the apprentices in the offices of their organizations. We all pile in together, sleeping on blankets or thin, thin futon like mattresses. Most of them are single women living in extended families or are deserted and live in tiny rooms by themselves. For the latter their organizations rent houses with rooms for them (unsafe and even impossible to do on their own).

 

The Wenlido Basic in Kolkata goes very well. A. and P. are teaching, supported by Su. and myself. Kolkata’s urban sprawl with the total overload of big old time taxis is horrendous. Rickshaws pulled by old and young men running among the cars. Only twice did I have to use them and it made me feel uneasy, like a colonialist madam

 

On March 7th I am on the way to Dhaka, Bangladesh, a 14-hour bus ride, then 3 hours standing in 5 line-ups to get across the border. Welcome to Bangladesh! With A/C bus onwards crossing huge wetlands and a waterway by ferry. I saw far fewer women in Burkas than expected. I thought I saw poverty in India…but there is differences yet….

 

Dhaka is a modern type city with high rises, huge billboards, modern cars and an incredibly busy system of thousands of cycle rickshaws. Behind my room (in a training center) was an alleyway for only rickshaws and pedestrians. Several evenings I observed a blind Muslim beggar dressed in white praising Allah in a chant right below my window. One of the evenings he held a white pigeon in his hand! He seemed well cared for by middle-aged, well-dressed men filling his pockets with bills.

 

I spent International Women's Day with 1800 women in Dhaka, Bangladesh. They arrived in groups of 30 to 50 women from their many women's groups, even from outside the city.

 

Street children were showing skits on stage (informing women of their rights in marraige, as far as second wife and violence and dersertion goes).

 

Women demanding 50 elected seats (out of 450) in parlament. Later read that they did get 45 from 23 prior, but unfortunately still appointed not elected. Right now they are mainly wives of politians. One group that arrived with their banners were from the 'foundation of survivors of acid violence'. About 40 women with their faces horrendously scarred by acid burns. We talked about that in the workshop and I was told that it is a big problem here.

 

It was very exciting to be part of the colorful mass of women on that day, thinking of all the other women taking to the streets all around the planet. I hope you all had a wonderful day connecting to the women in your regions!

 

On March 8th I visited the organization that sent us 4 apprentices: Ain o Salish Kendra (Human Rights and Mediation Network). The women work as lawyers, in community theatre, in giving trainings (law and gender) and in administration. 192 employees, mostly women. They occupy 2, 3-story buildings that reminded me of a beehive. Everyone I met praised their working environment. Lucky bunch! Their main focus is on human right violations with many cases against the government.

 

The 2 Wenlido Basic Workshops were for their staff only. For the first workshop my translator was a senior instructor from Calcutta. For the second one I was on my own unfortunately with a participant helping me out. Bangla is quite different from Hindi, so it made a huge difference as far as my effectiveness of support for apprentices and the group went. The stress level of the apprentices was considerably higher as well, since their executive director of Ain o Salish Kendra participated. The workshop went very well in spite of it all as the participation and energy was high throughout and the feedback very positive! There was an official closing where I was given appreciations and handed lovely gifts (an embroidered picture and a bag).

 

Their plan is to start teaching Wenlido to government workers on odd shifts who are known to be very vulnerable to attacks.

 

A problem I heard of several times in the districts is Fatwa. A punishment given by Islamic clergy for ‘misconducts’ of women. Punishment may be stoning, cutting off of hands, etc.

 

After the last workshop ends, we (the 5 of us) have barely an hour for feedback and teary good-byes and I am rushed off on the cycle rickshaw to the bus stand.

 

I sit in amazement on the bus realizing how long these days have been again. 14 to 15 hours non-stop on average.

 

In the early morning I reach the Indian Border. Little did I know what lay ahead (good thing)? I was had…by someone not putting a stamp in my passport. Besides the 5 line-ups I had to cross the border back and forth 3 times and spending 500 takas (2 or 3 day wage) on bribes. Not knowing the system, not understanding the spoken or written language…it was a struggle to say the least. I was tired, hungry, furious, yet happy to make it thru at all. (and I thought the US border was bad?)

 

Another bus ride to Calcutta and then more line-ups at the train station to attempt getting on without reservation to Central India (for the 5 day all India/Bangladesh Instructor and Apprentice Training and meeting). Out of luck. As last resort I get on the train and talk to TC (ticket collector) and for a little extra money get on part way in the overcrowded train wagon. 6 hours later luck finds me when I search in an upper class wagon for a cancelled sleeper. Sigh… 44 hours later I thought to have arrived. A phone call confirms I have to go on another 4 hour bus ride thru the scorching heat of this semi desert land. Haven’t I been teaching about ‘resourcing’ oneself??? Finding a little dhaba to eat (am I stoked to be back in vegetarian land!) and a cup of chai, some deep breaths and onwards. ..

 

I am thrilled to finally be welcomed by the smiling face of my Saheli (woman friend)! The warm and loving welcome and the ever refreshing ‘bucket bath’ lets me leave the past behind and start on the next chapter of the journey: Preparation for the 5 day Wenlido Prashikshak Saathin Milan (Wenlido Training Support Meeting) in a village close by.

 

I hope this finds everyone well! I imagine spring where you are and birds singing. Soon (mid April, enchallah) I will join you again with many stories to be shared.

 

In womyn’s strength and support…globally

 

Gitta