South India – Day 10
Friday, February 14, 2025
Two breakfasts
It’s Valentines Day, which I heard is starting to catch on in India, but I didn’t see any outward signs. Confident I had figured out the breakfast system I went down to the restaurant and said, “breakfast?” to which the waiter replied, “okay.” These intricate negotiations proved successful and I soon had a tray of rice, curries, yogurt, and various baked breads set in front of me. As I was finishing up, I got a text from Roy David, inviting me to his place for breakfast! What wonderful miscommunication that led to another breakfast!
Shammi
Over this second breakfast (any Hobbit would be proud of me), I got to hear more from Shammi. She has been working in the social sector for more than forty years, and as usual, her stories jumped from here to there across her long career. While Roy’s focus is tribal land issues, Shammi emphasized education, not only for tribals, but for everyone. For example, she helped several children who came from difficult family situations go to school. This was in addition to raising her own three children! She also worked with women, organizing them into SHGs (Self Help Groups) to do organic farming to bring food and some extra money into the home. These groups eventually became credit unions. That was back in the eighties at “the stage when they started to be aware that they have their own identity.”
In 2006 she took 150 women to the World Social Forum in Delhi. They included tribals, Dalits, sex workers, and even transgender people whom she described as the best dancers. For a period of five years, she worked at another NGO in Bangalore and this experience helped to build networks between like-minded organizations throughout the region. During a three-month training program in Seattle, she learned of the organization Village Volunteers and together with them arranged to receive volunteers at CORD for the next ten years. They would stay for 10-15 days doing activities like teaching English in schools, or planting trees with the communities. Now that Shammi is not so mobile, she takes more of a support role, helping tribal people with report writing and documentation.
That We May Live Together
Several times throughout the conversation Shammi repeated ARI’s motto, “That We May Live Together” as her best learning. It was very difficult to do at ARI with all of the different cultures and ways of thinking, she explained, and that is why it made such an impact. After returning home, “life is nothing but adjusting to this” she said. That we may live together in our family, in our community.
At this point a burly young man came in and introduced himself. It was their son, Roshen David. He is into organic farming and grows rice, coffee, pepper, and turmeric on family land. But it seems his biggest passion is field hockey, which is serious business in India.
Asha
That morning another graduate also stopped in for a visit. It was Asha (2017 ARI Graduate) and she had traveled nearly four hours from her home in Kasaragod in Kerala. Asha worked at CORD as a community organizer for tribal groups from 2011 to 2021. Addressing the issues of land rights and education, she stressed that her role was not to solve the problems of the people, but to support them in “solving their problems by themselves.” For this she found ARI’s Servant Leadership approach very helpful. Being a fast, get things done, type of person, she shared that at ARI she learned that she need not always be in a hurry. “We just have to listen first.” To further this point, she shared a small episode she had with her roommate from Cameroon. Nelly Shella was her name and they got on well together. One day Asha, in her non-fluent English curtly called, “Shella, come here.” To this Nelly Shella replied, “Asha, that is not the way. ‘Please, come here,’ you have to call.” It may not sound like a big deal, but this brief episode remains with Asha to this day. It is these small things, that happen every day at ARI, that make us grow. “ARI is a good place to mold ourselves to work for the community,” Asha concluded. Now Asha is married and her present focus is on her new baby.
Japan Lingappa
In the late afternoon, Wajid, the fellow who drove us from Kerala, pulled in at Roy’s house in his “auto.” We were to head out to a small village called Gowdana Kadde to meet Muthu Lingappa (2004 ARI Graduate). According to the story I heard, when Muthu returned from ARI, more than 200 people, the whole village, in fact, came out to welcome him home with flowers, singing, and dancing. None of them had ever traveled anywhere and they were excited about his trip to Japan, feeling in some way as if they had been part of it. Yes, these are Adivasi, and for Muthu to be selected as a representative leader to study at ARI was a huge honor felt by all of them. There are two Lingappas in the village, since the day of his return he has been called “Japan Lingappa.”
As we approached, Roy David explained that this is where one of the earliest land struggles in the region took place. It ended with sixty households being granted 600 acres of community land. Previous to this, the Adivasi had all been cleared off to allow the government to lease the land to a private company. On 3,800 acres they were growing scented grass to make perfume for export. When the lease was up, the company left and CORD came in to organize the people to get their land back. That was in 1985. If not for CORD, these folks wouldn’t be here now.
Muthu greeted me with a flower, a lemon from his garden, and a big hug. I think there was a reason for the lemon, but I’m not sure what it was. It had been twenty years since we had seen each other, and in that time, he had managed to become a grandfather. Somehow, at ARI he was much younger than I was and now he is much older.
Gathering on the front porch
The three of us gathered on the porch in front of his house and were joined by friends and neighbors. His wife, Sumitra, was there too, sitting a little off to the side but taking part in the discussion. Muthu’s limited English hadn’t changed much, but that didn’t affect communication. It is amazing how much he can express just by stringing together a few nouns and verbs. Of course, Roy pitched in for translation. Muthu’s education does not exceed the sixth grade, which is a fact that ARI had to consider carefully. Normally our participants are required to have a high school diploma at the minimum. But based on his leadership role and his recommendation from Roy David, together with the endorsement of all his people, we saw him as true rural leader and brought him for training.
Upon his return he faced some serious difficulties, though. He was given a spot in the panchayat (a kind of village council), but found himself being manipulated. I couldn’t fully understand the situation, but it was political and he seemed to be trapped in it. He kind of lost himself, neglecting his land, working as a wage laborer, and hitting the bottle. Thankfully (and that may be an inappropriate word, but…) after five years, the fellow who was giving him a hard time passed away, and Muthu pulled himself back up. Now, he is a hardworking farmer. His cattle shed contains four milk cows, a bullock and eleven calves and he is leasing two acres of land to grow bananas and chilies. There is a small shop attached to his house run by his wife and he owns a motor bike and a car which his son drives people around in like a kind of “village uber.” Muthu spends most of his time looking after the farm.
From coffee pickers to coffee farmers
He continues to work with the community as well, but at the most local level, meaning his immediate neighbors in the village. “I work for my own people now,” he explained. They are all farmers with land, a great improvement over their previous means of living, as wage laborers and selling firewood. On their communal land, they grow mangos, coconuts, jackfruit, and avocados. They have even started their own coffee plantation, which is significant, considering many of them had once been working on other people’s plantations. Deciding how to use this land in a way that benefits all requires a lot of meetings and discussions. Looking around, Muthu pointed out that people were living in houses. They used to live in huts, but he had helped them petition the government for money for proper homes. Muthu’s dream is to see his people become independent and self-sufficient, especially in terms of food. Toward this end, they are petitioning the government for an irrigation system to reach 300 acres of their land. In answer to my question about what is most beautiful in this community, Muthu said it is their culture of sharing and caring. For every event like a wedding or funeral, the whole village comes together.
As we sat and watched the road, a truck passed by announcing tomorrow’s panchayat meeting. A while later a small group of Tibetan monks walked by, among them two boys who stopped to feed a couple of roadside dogs. The local “school bus” dropped off some children, one of whom cartwheeled himself home. The mother of the village head stopped in to greet me.
Good fortune
At the end of the visit, Muthu picked up a dried gourd from the corner and began shaking it. According to their old beliefs, rattling this burude around a sick person calls the spirits to discover the cause of the suffering, and cure them. I don’t know how much they put their faith in this belief. I felt Muthu wanted me to have it as a symbol of good fortune.
Wajid pulled around the auto, but just before we climbed in, Muthu called us behind the house to greet a visitor. It was a Malabar Hornbill, a harbinger of good luck. This fellow visits every day, and everyone seemed happy to see him. As we finally got on our way I turned around to see Muthu standing in the middle of the road, waving his goodbyes until he disappeared in the twilight. Back at the hotel I hit up the cook for another Shoma, which he was happy to provide, and this time with an extra chapati!
