Segundrabad is a small, primarily Muslim town surrounded by rural villages about 40 km southeast of Delhi. Karly and I took a rickety bus ride there one Friday morning with a co-worker from Navdanya. He works in Delhi during the week and returns to his family home on most weekends. The Payal homestead is located in a small village, which we reached by taking a taxi from the bus stop through the market (where many services were provided including bike repair, cotton processing, weaving, building, weighing of various materials like huge bundles of cardboard, etc), and past vegetable fields. Cauliflower (phool golbi in Hindi) is a popular ingredient here although broccoli is hardly seen. The village has a population of about 2000, housed in either thatched grass huts or gated homes with yards for buffalo and houses made from concrete. The two different types of households represent the two castes of the community- the laborers and the land owners. The buffalo are huge, gentle, creatures present throughout the village at at homes. The buffalo area of the home is sectioned off by a gate, but is integral to the household. There is a feeding trough on the sides along the fence and a small canal that for water and urine runoff. The buffalo supply the family with more than enough fresh milk doodh in Hindi) each day. Throughout the village are areas where cow dung is fashioned into neat cakes that are a mixture of dung and straw and serve as cooking fuel.
After passing through the second gate, leading to the house, we met Rajiv's mother, wife, son, brother, brother's wife, and two nephews. Soon after, his father arrived, who also works in Delhi during the week. In this patriarchal community, men stay with their families and daughters move to their husbands family's home (there are also matriarchal communities though fewer and located in north-east and southern India). The Payals have farm land on which they grow the cash crops of rice and sugarcane. It is rice harvest season and we headed out to the fields to check it out. One the way, I asked if they farm organically. Rajiv said they use some fertilizers and GMO> seeds because the yield is higher, though they have never tested this assumption by comparing it with organic yields. The larger structure of crop buyers does not generally encourage this type of experimentation. Field workers were out harvesting rice using a systematic method of bunching paddi (rice) for later removal of the grain. There are ancient festivals and rituals associated with the rice harvest. Surrounding the fields are bunds, traditional ditches that are reinforced for irrigation. The ground wells provide water for the crops and is also the source of the village water.
Back at the village, we made the village rounds, visiting Rajiv's aunts and uncles (family friends), who served us up chai and many ceremoniously brought out the wedding album for us to admire. Though we didn't speak the same language, we communicated with smiles and warm regards.
For dinner, we had a thali (plate with dal, rice, chapati, and veg dish) similar to what we'd had elsewhere-- this chapati was maiz-based instead of flour-based, a bit heavier but equally tastey>. The food was generally a lot spicier here. As night fell, all of the family gathered around and lounged outside on the back porch in the peace and quite of the village night. The family conversed and laughed. Karly and I dozed restfully and finished off the night with a glass of sweet, warm doodh. Oh, so good!
In the morning, (Mom, stop reading here), Rajiv and his friend (he calls him his cousin-brother) took Karly on motor bike rides to the nearby hydroelectric dam, where there is a confluence of three great rivers, one of which is the Ganges-- mother Ganga. Before leaving, I collected some neem leaves from the large neem tree in their yard. Neem is a highly regarded tree here, whose leaves and bark are used medicinally and culturally for diverse purposes ranging from skin disorders to fertility rituals. Don't worry, my interest is in the medicinal value for the skin!

Nainital
Ahhhhhhhhhhh, Nainital, the first mountain town I visited. I boarded a bus at the main Delhi bus station at 9PM and settled in for a long ride. Though Nainital is a mere 300 KM away from Delhi, it's a long way up the mountains and our arrival time was scheduled for 9AM.
Bus drivers here have a little team up front with them. One of the team members hangs outside of the door and yells the names of the destination town and signals for the bus to stop should someone want to get on. And by stop, I mean slow down, as passengers hop on and off.
We made our way through Old Delhi, AKA the walled city, and up towards the Himalayas. I slept well through the night, waking up occasionally to observe steep drop-offs outside of the window and hectic traffic scenes in the towns. I felt very fortunate that the bus driver had his team with him because it looked like one foul move would send us to into a pitch black abyss, never to return.
In the morning, I woke up when we driving through Haldwani, the closest city, where the market was bustling, two days before Diwali. Traveling along the main drag, the bus man hanging out the door called out Nainital, Nainital, Nainital, Nainital in a slight crescendo. Outside of Haldwani, the tree cover became thicker and little monkeys swinging about invited us to climb the mountain. To bring us up to Nainital, we followed a narrow, winding, steep road. After 15 hours on the bathroomless bus, we arrived at the center of the Nainital, perched right next to a lake. People wore hats and hoodies to insulate them from the brisk lake breeze. This was a welcome change coming from hot, damp Delhi.
A taxi brought us down the road to the bottom of the hill, where we got out and walked up a winding path, densely populated with hotels, apartments, markets, and restaurants. A small man who probably weighs a quarter of what I do carried our luggage (for three) up the mountain by bundling it up with a strap, putting it on his back, and placing the strap across his forehead.
The views were gorgeous and the whole feel of the place was a stark contrast to the chaos of Delhi. The mountain people from there mostly work in the service industry and speak a different dialect than the Hindi spoken in Delhi. They have the gentle happiness about them compared to city folk. One, named Dolly, cooked our meals, and let us help in the kitchen. My favorite tool she had was a great stone slab that wasn't so much a cutting board, as a grinding board. A forearm-sized piece of stone is used to grind up onion, garlic, cardamom, and whatever spices are being used to make tea and food.
The day after we got there, it started raining and man, did it come down! It felt like we were inside the clouds that thundered around us. It became cold and damp. There was no one to bring firewood because it was a holiday and the electricity was out, rendering the electric heaters useless. I found our lack of wood particularly ironic as we were surrounded by forest-- but it's illegal to cut down wood from there. So, we hung around, layered in everything we brought (which wasn't much), eating very well, and playing cards-- a traditional Diwali activity. As soon as the rain stopped, fire crackers started and continued on and off for the next three days. Fortunately, we were far enough up the mountain that they weren't too loud. Out on the street was a different story. I ventured to the market to get something warm for Karly to wear, who had become ill. The deafening "crackers" were constantly being set off in close proximity to crowds. Thank goodness for my earplugs!
By the end of our stay, the clouds had parted, the crackers were spent, and peace returned to Nainital. The highlight of the trip was taking a boat ride on the lake, which gave the town an even more serene feel. It reminded me a lot of boat rides I've taken on the lakes in Maine.

Eating in India

Vegetarian’s paradise! The two eating options here are “veg” and “non-veg”. “Veg” is default? Brilliant! Unlike the US, where many Americans choose to be vegetarians because of the various health, environmental, and ethical reasons, the choice to be veg or non-veg here has more to do with religion. "Good" Hindus are veg. My flatmate is non-veg just for the purpose of rebelling against Hinduism (and it's caste system, etc.). However, women do not have equal opportunity to engage in such rebellion. In some circles, women are strongly discouraged to eat meat along with foods such as onion and garlic, which are all considered to create heat and increase sexual energy.

The food is highly accessible, although I was an India food lover before arrival. All the food I’ve had is delicious and I just avoid the spicier dish if there is one (in the villages we’ve visited, the food is a lot spicier). Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of buying organic food from local farms here that I do in northern California, which means my toxic-free diet is no more. I buy produce from stands set up in the market. I don’t know where it’s grown (the vendors won't tell you). Some veggies are probably from the northern state of Punjab, which like California is to the US, is the bread basket of India. Oranges come from the nearby "orange capitol" and other fruits like bananas and pineapples come from the south. On the highway the other day, I saw a truck with an open-air trailer packed full with broccoli and cauliflower—exposed to the smog, fumes, and particulates all the way. Yummm. Grapefruit seed extract is my miracle medicine that balances out the bevy of chemicals I consume.

I buy organic grains, pulses, and spices from Navdanya, all of which come from Uttaranchal, the state to the north of Delhi towards the Himalayas. My favorite favorite breakfast item is popped amaranth. It’s sooooooooo good with raisins, soaked almonds, bananas, and milk. Yes, I’m drinking cow’s milk again—actually it’s buffalo milk. Between the chai and amaranth, I feel like a calf I drink so much milk. The two alternatives are Indian-made soy milk and Silk soy milk. I stopped drinking Silk in the US because it’s owned by the Hain food group, which abuses organic standards. But the soy milk from Indian companies comes spoiled. So I tried the Silk soymilk but it is really expensive (150 ruppees compared to 15 for milk) and spoils almost as quickly. You know how the expiration date for packaged food in the US is like four years away? Well, here the date is like a week away. So, we know where all our expired food goes. After asking around, I have learned that the main milk company here ‘Mother’s Milk’ uses the same chemicals (antibiotics and hormones) as industrial milk companies in the US. I was interested to learn that here, when you get your bag of milk (everything comes in plastic bags), you boil it. This way, it keeps much longer (1-2 days instead of 8-12 hours) for us folks without refrigeration.

Other fruits I’ve enjoyed here are apples, guavas, pomegranates, and custard apple. For lunch and dinner, I’ve had Indian food for almost every meal though it’s possible to get other kinds of food. We often get food out or on the street because it’s so cheap and good. I’ve experimented some with cooking but am still developing my skills and it stinks to cook in a kitchen with no equipment. It’s no problem to whip up some rice and a veg but there’s little hope of getting any good roti(bread) out of electric burner. But last night I was asking around the neighborhood for fresh rotiand stumbled upon a bit of serendipity. One of my neighbors has a stand where he sells drinks and candy. But he also sells proper Indian meals to go with dal, rice, veg, and roti. For 25 rupees. Woo hoo!

My ethnic deviations from Indian food have included Italian, Greek, and American. American chains are pretty common—we’ve visited Pizza Hut, and TGIF (a “cool” place where a friend wanted to meet for happy hour i.e. really sucky, smokey, with bad, expensive food). Though I must admit that Pizza Hut was really good. McDonalds we refuse to go to but it’s all around.

Coffee shops are increasingly popular—especially because they’re an acceptable place for men and women to interact normally (=talk). Most of these places serve American desserts like ice cream, cake, and milk shakes. You can also buy cigarettes at them. Traditional desserts are kulfi, a delicious kashew-based ice cream, kheer- rice pudding, rasgullaa- cottage cheese balls in sweet syrup, and jalebee- deep-fried dough swirls in rosewater syrup.

Surprises/Observations

1. No hugs. What, no hugs? That’s right. Girls may give a fake cheek kiss when they greet. Some people use western hand shakes and some green you respectfully with, “namaste” but nooo hugs. That is, among women. Among men, it's a different story. Men are free to walk down the street holding hands or with their arms over each others shoulders. Overt displays of affection among women and men are rare except at night clubs, where a couple may take advantage of being out of the house. And I’m not talking about teeny boppers. These are grown adults, most of whom live with their parents until they are married. Because dating is discouraged, parents are often ignorant that their son or daughter is dating anyone at all, much less at a club making out on the dance floor. I have yet to see any woman to woman displays of affection. Sometimes, Karly and I walk down the street holding hands to rebel.
2. Snoop city. Pepole are sooo nosey here. I thought Roey was a snoop, but she’s nothing compared to these folks. And they have not qualms about it. For example, I’m writing down places I’ve been recommended to visit in my journal, and this dude next to me on the train, starts making his own recommendations. Thanks but no thanks, Rishi. Geez!
3. “Rush to do nothing.” When Karly and I first arrived, we were obviously very anxious to please those we were with. So when we were told to do something, we would make sure to do it, even if there had been no previous mention or planning of the activity at hand. We would often be told that we were leaving for somewhere presently and to get ready, in a very hurried tone, no less. So we would drop everything, get ready, and sit for two hours, often to find that we were never going anywhere, or perhaps our destination had changed. This pattern developed over a few days and we developed the phrase “rush to do nothing,” to describe the phenomenon. Now, we respond more appropriately. That is, how everyone else responds: continue with whatever you were doing and make your own plans. This issue is part of the greater issue of communication here. It’s a joke. You say: "Rainbow, you speak a different language, of course there’s a communication issue." True, but this goes deeper. There are times when I don’t understand someone—this is a language issue. But the communicaiton problem is ridiculous. For example, we showed up for work last Thursday and the office is closed. Holiday? No. It’s just been really busy lately so the office is closed for a day. No phone call, just closed. It’s possible we’re not so high on the priority list, too. I take that back, highly probable.
4. Women’s and girl’s respect. The degree of respect a man has for women can be observed from how much personal space he gives them. When a man is has respect, there is absolutely no touching whatsoever. In the company of less respectful men (on the bus, for example), they brush shoulders, play footsie, and seemingly inadvertently touch breasts.
5. All Indians I’ve met delight in the fact that I’m interested in learning Hindi and even moreso in my name. In Hindi, my name is “Indra danush,” which means the goddess Indra’s bow. Naming people after gods and godesses is very common and so for the first time, I have a common name when I go by Indra. I have also been given the name, “Naina” by friends at Navdanya, which means eyes.
6. People are sooo industrious here. I was walking down the street the other day with my 2-week old sandals and the strap broke. I simply went to the market and there on the corner was the shoe repair man, making his way through a pile of shoes with his well-aged tools. He fixed my shoe in 5 minutes and charged me 5 rupees (equal to about 15 cents). So, if the quality of some goods here suffer (in the case that it was made by a hungry, sleep-deprived child), people don’t throw anything away. Even things that are thrown away are garnered from the garbage to be used or sold. The remaining garbage is eaten by the cows on the neighborhood cow, chillin by the side of the road. All except for the plastic, which is indigestible and wreaks havock on these holy creatures.
   
7. Men love to dance! Unlike many men in the states, men rock the dance floor here, uninhibited. Forgive the stereotype, my dance-loving brothers.

Getting Around in India

There’s a whole range of modes of transportation here including walking, public transportation (bus and metro), cars, bicycles, motorcycles, auto rickshaw and taxi. People carry impressively large loads on their head, in carts, and on bicycles. The most impressive I’ve seen is a system of carrying a huge load on the back with a strap that ties the load to your head so the strap goes across the forehead.

In general, getting around is a rather frenzied, chaotic but surprisingly safe process. However, there’s a whole different set of safety standards one adopts once you set foot in this land. Seatbelts are virtually unheard of. Even if cars have them, they are clearly never used (stuffed in the seat or broken) even though it’s the law in Delhi. Everybody runs lights. It’s like lights are a guide for who can go next when there’s heavy traffic. Otherwise, people just drive on through—I don’t get exactly how it works. There are few accidents and collisions despite driving very closely together because traffic moves slower, on average, and people are used to it. Drivers beep their horns constantly to let other drivers know they’re there. When traveling, you often encounter beggars who weave in and out of stopped traffic in the middle of the street, selling goods such as magazines and rags, or just asking for money. Constantly—drivers always have one hand positioned over the horn. It’s used as a courtesy. Trucks and cars on the road have signs painted on the back of the vehicle, “Horn please.” Lanes are also a very rough road guide that are seldom observed. It’s common practice to drive down the road in two lanes at once.

Most of the Hindi I’ve learned is for the purpose of communicating and bargaining with auto rickshaw drivers. These are small men who work under terrible conditions (exposed to smog all day, and most of the smoke to boot) and most speak little English other than the price of a ride. Many of them are pretty slimey and will try to get away with as much as possible, especially from a Western woman. For example, when bargaining, a driver may take a lower price and say if the passenger agrees to make one or two stops. This is some sort of scam in which drivers drop tourists off at shops for 5-10 minutes before dropping them at their destination. Then, there’s the “no change” scam in which drivers claim they don’t have change even though they do. Finally, there’s the total sleeze ball scam. The other day, we went to a market that was closed. Noticing western girls with no place to go, this guy approached us to ask what we were looking for and accompanied us to another market. He successfully found a store with what we were looking for and then took us to the India Government tourist office to get some travel info. As the driver was bringing us back, our guide asked, “Can I ask you something and you will promise not to get angry?”.Yeah, okay, what? “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Disgust.

To avoid all of this insanity, I enjoy walking—the most relaxing mode of transportation here—until you encounter a road, of course. There are few crosswalks. To cross six lane roads is kind of an art of locating the slow cars driving down the road, stepping in front of them, and making eye contact with the driver. I often opt to find a crossing buddy—another crosser whom I can just follow across—and think about how I should’ve brought my snow boarding helmet to India instead of a winter jacket.

The Status of Organics in India

When I started working for Navdanya, I was happy to meet Kavita Singh. She is a nutrition educator, who works with schools in Delhi to encourage them to serve local, organic food. Connecting schools and farms in this way was the topic of my dissertation so I was thrilled to learn about the program here.

Navdanya works with about 15 schools out of hundreds in Delhi. Navdanya visits schools during parent events to conduct outreach by selling food and handicrafts, and distributing literature about organic agriculture. She also organizes farm field trips, school assemblies, and other educational events for schools.

On October 12^th, we accompanied Kavita to St. Columbus school for 3^rd-8^th standards. At the event we set up tables to display Navdanya’s educational literature on land and water conservation, organic farming, and children’s books. A group of students from the 8^th standard helped sell products ranging from hand-crafted notebooks and lampshades, to grains, pulses, oils, and Diwali gifts. We also took orders from the teachers for a delicious organic plate of barnyard millet tabouli and vegetable cutlets with coriander chutney.

This event was well-attended and there was a steady flow of parents who were either already familiar with Navdanya or who were interested in learning about the organization. As advocates of organic farming and food, were delighted to inform families on the benefits of going organic! We were happy to see that many individuals took membership forms or bought educational literature, along with organic goods to take home.

Generally speaking, this type of program faces the same issues as Farm to School programs in the US. Namely, organic food is most accessible to folks with more education and more money. The school system here is highly competitive and costly. Often, up to half of the family income is used on education. It is through going to a good school that parent ensure their children will get a good job—or a job at all.

When I asked Kavita if any of the schools they work with serve lower income populations, she replied that none of the parents can afford to buy their food. This is understandable considering it’s about four times the cost of other food. I was surprised to learn that few Navdanya employees purchase any of their food products because it’s so expensive (a café worker only makes about $750 a year). There are a number of solutions to this problem, most of which consist of subsidizing access to healthy food to the poor through public and private entities. For example, the government of Belo Horizonte, Brazil has a great program in which the city subsidizes the cost of farm land, food production and distribution so that all people are able to afford healthy meals at Retaurants Popular (People’s Restaurants) and schools. Check out: http://www.smallplanetinstitute.org/worldhunger/jahi.pdf.

Addressing the gap in access also means evaluating the strategies used to create a sustainable food system thus far. While adoption and regulation of organic standards by government bodies serves to legitimize efforts, it has also turned ‘organics’ it into a bureaucratic program imposing fees, rules, and regulations on farmers. These are strong disincentives to the formation of a new food system, meant to create direct connections between producers and consumers.

Corporations have established a strong presence in the international food system because there is so much profit to be made by industrializing the process of eating. Food is processed and packaged to create products that can sit on shelves for years. This is even happening with fresh produce, like apples and bananas that can sit unripe for months until they are gassed, causing them to ripen. Organic food is the new darling of corporate food because it has the highest growth sector in all food categories. And since governments have started regulating organic, it is easy for lobbyists and corporate lawyers to define what organic is and what it isn’t—thereby defeating the whole purpose. Meanwhile, they’re pressuring countries around the world to grown genetically modified seed. Since it is impossible to regulate the wind, it’s only a matter of time before the majority of the food system is contaminated. Worst of all is the damage done to farmers who have been given no option but to become reliant upon inputs in the form of genetically modified seeds, chemical pesticides & fertilizers, and other biotechnologies that result in economic and ecological debt.

In India, the fact that the term ‘organic’ is used here seems to miss the point altogether. There’s nothing new or technological about organic agriculture. The organic and sustainable agriculture movement simply stands for the return to traditional farming methods in which people work in harmony with animals and land to produce food and preserve the ecology. India has been doing this for hundreds of years and when the British arrived to teach Indians about agriculture, they found they had nothing to teach, only learn. Fortunately, there are agricultural communities in India that have not been reached by unsustainable farming methods. These are the farms to look to for lessons about how to re-build our food system and the best teachers for farmers disconnected from traditional farming. Involving children is an ideal way to bring up a generation of people who value sustainability. The student musicians who performed at the school we visited are an inspiration to us all.

Women and Food Sovereignty Course

Soon after we arrived, we took a 5-hour train trip north to Navdanya’s farm, outside of Dehra Dun in the foothills of the Himalayas. There, we took a course entitled “Women and Food Sovereignty.” This course was taught by Dr. Melaku Ward, an Ethiopian scientist. Though the course got off to a rough start (instructors changed, course content changed with less focus on women, and there were numerous problems reported by participants about the registration, enrollment, traveling, or payment process). But after a few days, we settled in and began to get to know one another. There were about 20 of us from 12 countries: Ethiopia, Ghana, South Africa, Tanzania, Kenya, India, Sweden, Norway, Brazil, Canada, UK and US. The strong African contingent was the most beneficial part of the course, as they brought a valuable perspective about their work with sustainable agriculture in countries heavily preyed upon by agriculture biotechnology corporations.

For ten days, our schedule was:

7A Yoga

8A Breakfast

9A Shramdan- service to the community in which we either cooked, cleaned, or worked in the field

11A-1P Morning lecture

1P Lunch

2-4P Afternoon lecture

4P Tea

6P Evening yoga

7P Dinner

One of the best parts of the course was the yoga (and the lemongrass tea. oh, and all the food--yummm)! In the morning, we rose with the sun and performed asanas (poses) in the open air at the beautiful farm with flowers, lemon trees, rice, and millets growing around us was excellent. The evening yoga teacher, Lalitha Ganguly, is a great teacher and transformed my practice. She has trained at Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram for over 20 years in Chennai (S. India) and now teaches in Pune (Central West India). During the evening sessions, she worked with us solely on pranayama (breathing) and provided very useful exercises for us to take home with us. She emphasized the importance of remembering our breath in all aspects of our lives, not just during yoga. This is very similar to the philosophy of Jin Shin Jyutsu, which I also practice. A great exercise is sitting quietly and taking 36 relaxed breaths—so rejuvenating!

The lectures had a lot of interesting information on various issues in international agriculture. We also got some hands on experience on the farm like visit the seed bank. ‘Bija Vidaypeeth,’ the course site, means School of the Seed. It was co-founded by Satish Kumar and Vandana Shiva for the purpose of saving seed in response to seed patenting and bio-piracy practiced by agriculture, chemical and pharmaceutical multi-national corporations. By taking indigenous knowledge from farmers and villagers and altering it slightly, these companies make huge profits off of seed, chemicals, food products, and medicine. And of course none of the profits are returned to the village.

The seed bank at Navdanya has hundreds of varieties of rice and pulses stored in special containers that maintain proper moisture level. There are about 30 rice varieties in production at the farm currently. The seed bank itself was built with cow dung walls. Just as the cow is revered as holy here, so is its waste and for good reason. It is both a great insulator during the winter and keeps the room cool during the summer. Cow dung walls are also a natural insect repellent—good to protect us from those Malaria, Dengue, and West Nile-ridden mosquitoes flying around. All the structures at Bija at built of cow dung with aluminum roofing. Cow dung walls are made simply by mixing cow dung with enough cow urine and a bit of straw to make a solid but moldable consistency.

All the farm structures and systems were built with sustainability in mind. Troughs that carry waste and rain water to the fields surround the living structures. There is a huge solar panel for electricity (used to power lights and fans). The main grass hut where the group gathers for yoga and meetings is built atop a huge rainwater catchment. The farm as a whole was an excellent model for the course participants in this regard, as many of them hope to start similar farms in their communities.

To stay in contact and to collaborate in the future, we created the “12 Seed Initiative,” for the 12 countries represented at the class. This is an exciting, concrete outcome of the course and the forum can be viewed at http://groups.google.com/group/12seedinitiative. We also interviewed several of the participants to profile their organizations. Interviews will be aired on radio stations in California (and webcast) upon our return. Here are the brief descriptions:

Jack Wafula

SMART Initiative

Kenya

SMART Initiative with women farmers, gender, and AIDS issues. Many men refuse to work. Women farm, raise children, and expected to have food on the table when men get home from lying in the sun.

They work to convert farmers to organic by

• Composting to avoid use of corporate inputs
• Vegetable farming to diversify diet
• Raising fewer cattle
• Using alterative hives for bee keeping. Traditionally trees have been used but trees are becoming fewer and fewer so they work to develop alternative systems to using 1000-year-old trees.
• Developing possibilities to process their own food and start Community Supported Agriculture (CSAs)

The primary issues they address in their work are lack of soil fertility, deforestation, malnutrition, and access to information. They use local resources to manage soil fertility and translate educational material into the local language. To address malnutrition, they plant crops such as corn and cassava to provide all essential nutrients.

Challenges they face are light rainfall, drought, and insufficient means for extension to reach all areas. They have experienced success of farmer mobilization to grow and market crops together. They also have successfully networked with other organizations to share information. They hope for Kenyan farmers to go organic and to save their own seed. They want to develop a Global Alliance to share experience, technology, and information to further development of organic movement and capacity building.

Peter Anthony Kindimba

Ileje rural development organization

Pobox 160 Itumba,Ileje

Mbeya, Tanzania.

The primary issues they face are food security, market access, gender issues, and local use of resources. To address gender issues, they encourage community members to share resources equally. Agriculture companies come to their farmers with GMO seeds and their organization is working to instead promote organic farming. They encourage farmers to use local resources in stead. Challenges they experience are unsustainable farming methods, food provision for families, and marketing of their products. To solve the problems of farmers, they need assistance in production, trading, and from financial institutions. So far, they have experienced success in formation of farmer cooperatives and networks of farmer groups to overcome their struggles. He hopes to continue farmer collaboration to assist marginalized farmers and to create an information exchange.

Ayele Kedebe

Forum for the Environment

Ethiopia

They work to bridge the gap between policy and public understanding by holding public meetings on current legislation. They focus on deforestation, waste management, and the growing population. Working with a network of ten groups, the Forum distributes Green Awards to recognize progress around the country. They publish a tri-annual magazine publication to address the problem of government owning the media. They have experience success in growing environmental awareness and by working with many organizations for cumulative change. They hope to that their work will result in environmentally literal citizens in Ethiopia.

Check out www.ringo.com, search for my name, and look in the Bija Vidyapeeth album for more photos.

Bathrooms in Delhi typically have a western toilet, sink, and shower. There’s often no division in the room for the shower area. There may be a shower head that has water presser if you’re lucky or a faucet that you can use to fill up a bucket to wash with. Although there are often two faucets (presumably for cold and hot water), no water comes out of the “hot” water faucet. Sometimes no water comes out at all (Delhi has chronic water shortage problems—a whole other topic). Water is heated by either stove top or with a small portable heater. I prefer the cold showers (keeps the nerves healthy!) but I may be singing a different tune come December.

Sometimes you find toilet paper, sometimes not. In public places such as restaurants and businesses, there’s often TP but there are no guarantee so if you have to have it, it means you’re shlepin’ it. But there’s always running water and a little bucket to wash. I don’t mind this at all and am glad not to be wasting paper. However, I didn’t totally get the no TP thing until I visited a friend who lives in an amazing house in Delhi. Rather museum-like, the house has wood paneling, marble floors, and is decorated with beautiful artifacts. But there’s no TP. Only then did I get that it’s totally a cultural thing. Likewise, in some places, there is a choice between a western toilet and an Indian toilet.

People drink a lot less, which has the added benefit of needing to use the lieu less often, a strategy I’ve recently started employing. When I first arrived and my body was adapting to the heat here, I sweated all the time and drank a lot of water to stay hydrated. Literally, sweating constantly. It’s very easy for me to get flushed so it’s kind of a joke how I’m constantly blushing here, even when I’m not embarrassed. These dark-skinned beauties are amused by it and don’t hesitate pinch my pink cheeks.

Ahhh yes, the joys of being named after a toilet! Note: "A Quality Product."

Oktoberfest in Delhi? Who knew? I was so excited, I took off with the German's hat and tuba!

The Caste System

The Caste system is strong. That’s probably an obvious statement considering how long it’s existed here but it’s still a surprise to me. For some reason, I thought that because I was going to work on for a social organization, they would’ve found a way around the caste system. Quite the contrary, it’s highly dependent upon it. There are different caste employees for each task: cleaning the offices, cooking the food, working in the office, managing projects, etc. Each individual stays strictly within the boundaries of that tasks associated with that caste. For example, those who conduct tasks at the table level (cooking, etc.) would never be found cleaning the floor.

Caste and language are strongly related. Those with more education here, speak English and those with higher caste have greater access to employment and jobs. The only benefit of British rule that I have heard of is that before the British came, lower castes had no access to education whatsoever. Now they a little bit of access. Members of service castes usually speak little or no English. Merchants usually know enough language to lure in customers at the market (“Hello, madame. Hello, madame. Beautiful stoles and saris here. Hello madame.”) They know bargaining language (“fixed price”) and numbers to tell you the price of their goods.

Currently, there are a number of caste-related issues in the media. One is similar to affirmative action, in which there is a debate over whether their version of affirmative action should apply to the “creamy layer” of scheduled castes and tribes. Scheduled castes, tribes, and "other backward castes" are the service workers. They compose the majority of the population (>75%) and are the lowest rung of the four categories, below Brahmins (priests and intellectuals), warriors, and merchants.

As the name implies, the “creamy layer” are those service workers who have experienced some amount of success relative to their social position-- financial & job secuirty. The debate for it is whether to include the creamy layer in the reservation system of who gets a spot in schools, government jobs, etc. If they take away the creamy layer reservation system, it means that if your father had access to the reservation system, you won't. However, the system has flaws that go beyond the creamy layer debate. No matter how many reservations are made, until the larger issue of the caste system is addressed, the poverty in India will not significantly improve. The reservation system also does not address the fact that there is a wide economic range in all castes—that is, just because you’re in a higher caste doesn’t mean you’re well off. So, it would make more sense to do it on a purely economic basis but then you run into the numbers game. How can you really quantify poverty, much less the cycle of poverty. It would make most sense to eliminate the caste system all together. But that's not happening anytime soon since 1) it is an an inherent part of Hinduism and 2) most of those in power are all above service workers (which is how they got there), and they are obviously for maintaining their status so it’s unlikely that little will change anytime soon.

A major class/caste issue is discrimination against the Dalits, an indigenous group that composes ~14% of the population falls into scheduled tribe category (lower than any castes). They are discriminated against in villages in a range of ways—from not being able to take water from the village well, to not being able to own land or businesses, to not being able to ride a horse to their wedding ceremony, as is the tradition. People from higher castes refuse to drink out of a glass from a Dalit household. This is still true even for people who have been trained in social work! Thousands of Dalits have converted to Buddhism for the reason that Buddhism does not recognize castes and this is one way out of their birthright.

What boggles my mind is how the caste system preserves itself. Take a village I recently visited a couple hours outside of Delhi. It is an agricultural village of ~3K, composed equally of two different castes. One caste is the agricultural laborers and the other is the land owners. The laborers live in small grass huts and the land owners live in constructed houses. Everybody works hard but the laborers are the only ones relegated to toil in the fields harvesting rice and sugar cane—not easy tasks. They all go to school together and live together in this small village where everyone knows everyone else and yet the caste system preserves itself. Upon trying to learn more about it, a friend explained that most Indians don’t even fully understand the caste system, other than knowing where they are placed and that it's hierarchical.

Then there’s a whole part of the population outside the Hindu caste system in India. Different forms of discrimination are used for these groups. Even though India has the largest population of Muslims in the world (exceeding 142 million), overt discrimination of Muslims is practiced, as evidenced by the 2002 slayings of Muslims in Gujarat (see http://www.coalitionagainstgenocide.org/news/2002/mar/3.wp.india.php). Here in Delhi, Muslims often live as second class citizens and are segregated in ghettos with sub-standard living conditions and limited access to education.

Caste systems can be found among different religions, ethnicities, and countries around the world. For a more complete description of the caste systems, see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caste#Caste_system_among_Indian_Muslims

Working for Navdanya, Living in Hauz Khas

The organization I work for is called Navdanya. It means nine seeds and is named so after the traditional farming method of a nine-crop rotation. The organization is also called Research Foundation for science, Technology and Ecology and was started by Dr. Vandana Shiva in the 80’s. Dr. Shiva is quite a celebrity in slow food and sustainable agriculture circles and I was delighted for the opportunity to come and work for the organization. I met Dr. Shiva first in California when she came to UC Davis to deliver a lecture, which I was impressed by and inspired me to apply for the program.

The “program” I’m traveling here with was started last year and lacks any real structure to speak of. It was created in response to the Bush Administration’s pursuit of trade with and nuclear development in India. Calling their program the Knowledge Initiative, Dr. Shiva was interested in creating a program focusing on sustainability led by Indian and American youth, and called it the Knowledge Exchange. I saw it an opportunity to help develop this program and come experience life here.

It’s been an interesting adjustment to work for in India so far. The time frame of everything is different here. Just because there are plans to do something doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. It’s very usual that I’m told I need to be somewhere in 3 hours or even ten minutes at a moment’s notice. Planning? Whose heard of that?

For the first couple weeks of our trip, we went to a farm where we took a course. Upon our return to Delhi, we have focused on the anti-coke/pepsi campaign that is taking place across India. Currently, seven states have banned the production of coke because of the negative impacts of soda production. Coke/pepsi factories use up the water in villages that is used for drinking water and agriculture. The processing to make the drinks pollutes the remaining ground water and the end product is product full of pesticides (not to mention high fructose corn syrup and anti-freeze).

Aside from adjusting to a different “work environment,” much of my experience has been overwhelmingly positive and I feel fortunate to be connected to and organization and some nice folks here. Navdanya has several offices located in Delhi as well as a café, which is where we stayed for the first week of our trip. We especially enjoyed staying there because they serve delicious, organic Indian food and chai (tea) and sell grains, pulses, tea, and spices. Navdanya also has a stall up the road at a local market—Dilli Haat—with artisanal crafts and cultural events.

A few weeks after we arrived, they moved us to a flat that’s about a 20 minute walk to the café and the office where we work. The picture to the right is the view from the window. It was entirely unfurnished except for a couple lawn chairs and small sofa in the main room. We were without beds until we went to a market to get some mattress-like futons for 400 rupees ($10). For the kitchen, we got an electric burner and a small pot. For the bathroom, a wash bucket. And there you have our furnishings! It’s great to live with the bare minimum. Frequent power outages are solved by having a few candles around and it’s nice not to be so dependent upon unnecessary electronics and modern gadgetry that end up in landfills. This isn’t to say I don’t have appreciation for the comforts in life—take windows and insulated walls, for example. Karly and I share a bedroom (what I’ve taken to calling our cell) that has one narrow window facing the building’s dark, interior courtyard. The only other window is at the top of the room and measures about 8 square inches, making our only view the butt of a pigeon that perches on the ledge, moaning away. If the pigeon leaves, there's a narrow shaft of light that beams down on me during morning yoga. My alarm clock is my neighbor, who begins an impassioned, half hour session of hocking loogies every morning. The thin walls ensure that I am able to visualize the very shape of those loogies that he drudges up from deep within. Our bathroom, meanwhile, shares a thin wall with our neighbor's kitchen. So, while I can hear all of their bathroom sounds in my bedroom, all of the kitchen smells waft over to my bathroom. This is especially painful because their food smells sooooooooo good and we lack the skills and equipment to make such tastey dishes. Fortunately, the area I live in (Hauz Khas Village) is located in the ‘green belt’ of Delhi. Surrounding our building are several parks and peaceful recreational areas, where people play cricket, take walks, do yoga, and meditate. So, there's good reason to get out the house and stroll around the neighbrohood, as often as possible!

Think American weddings are a big deal? Come to India! Wow—no joke here. And appropriately so considering that weddings are for life here, in 99% of the cases. “Love marraiges” (as oppposed to arranged marraiges) are still very uncommon, as observed by the classified section in the newspaper. Whereas Americans go to the classifieds to find a job, yard sale, or car, the entire classified section of the newspaper is for families looking for brides or grooms. The entire section! And it’s not like the personals—they are looking for marriage partners. Dating is strongly discouraged. In about a third of all marriages, the bride and goom do not even meet before they wed (that’s right, they have never seen each other before they’re united for life!). The Indian Government is storngly opposed to Valentine’s Day for the reason that it encourages love marraiges and dating over arranged marraiges.

Haivng been to one wedding, and seen albums from several (a popular activity when visiting someone’s house), one big difference I am struck by is the display of happiness. The bridge and groom remain very serious with no smiling or laughing throughout the entire ceremony. The groom might display a grin now and then but the bride, especially, remains without a facial expression. When I asked about this, I was told it was to show that the bride was pious, respectable, and devoted.
Weddings are a three-day celebration. I haven’t experienced the full 3-day shebang—just the third day, of which I’ll provide a brief description (with no knowledge of correct terminology-- sorry!). In the morning, we went to the bride’s house where all the women were in the center of the room dancing and singing. Everybody in the room fed the bridge a yummy pudding reminiscent of cream of wheat with raisins (kishmish) and sugar (cini). Then we formed a procession led by a quartet of a drummers and wind players. We danced (i.e. copied the moves the other women were making—shaking shoulders and twisting hands) in a rotating circle to the local temple where we went in while the bride’s sister and husband were decorated (i.e. covered) with bright orange powder. Then, we all drove to the marriage hall (the quartet in tow), where the celebration continued into the night. First was lunch, then the ceremony itself, and then everybody lined up to have their picture taken feeding the bride and groom sweets. There was a break in activities until dinnertime so that everybody could go change their outfits (you must change apparently). When we returned to the hall, the group had grown from an intimate 30 to 1000 attendees and the hall had been transformed with lights, decorations, a dance floor, and many tables of food on the perimeter. With over 200 types of food there, we enjoyed a wide range of goodies. The younger folk rocked on the dance floor to Indian pop music. It's traditional for the groom to ride in on a horse and then once he reaches his bride, they sit on a stage on display, being photographed with family.
The bride’s sister was kind enough to lend us outfits appropriate for the occasion (bright colors for women of "marriagable age") although this didn’t stop us from drawing quite a few stares from the crowd—understandable considering we were the only white people there. So how did these white girls come to attend this wedding, you ask? Our friend of two days invited us, of course! I met Venkat Kanuri on my flight to Delhi and he invited Karly, my travel buddy, and me to come along. He’s from south India and now lives in West Virginia. We had a great time and Karly and I now feel prepared for our next wedding coming up in November, which is for the son of our boss.

For all the pictures of this event, check out 'Raj's Wedding' photo album on www.ringo.com and search using my name.