If I were a poet

This is the story of a satisfying, elevating and enriching experience I had at two Youth Wellness Health Camps in Gujarat, India, organized by the Share & Care Foundation of USA in collaboration with local NGOs in January 2012. It played out in the deep rural villages of India that no one equates with the progressive India. But, it is its heart and soul, as it represents 70%+ of Indian population and much of its landmass.

Villages of India are beautiful, we visited some of them: Kureliya, Lachhakadi and Vansda (in South Gujarat); Bhimora, Amrapur, Ambardi and Ghela Somnath (in Saurashtra). Moreover, we also passed through several villages as we had a bus journey every day for 30 minutes to 1.5 hours each way.

Most attendees at the camp were physicians from the U.S. and local volunteers. While they focused on attending to the health of more than 2,500 rural school children over 2 weeks, I had the opportunity to interact with these children, their teachers, organizers and local villagers.

The most rewarding experience was being with the “nature”. The serene beauty of these rural villages was captivating. The landscape – the hills, untouched forests, cultivated fields, beautiful trees, vegetable and fruit plants, flowers and bushes, colorful sand, the occasional stream - combined with the villagers – their colorful dresses, wall colors, paintings and writings on these walls – create a beautiful tapestry in my mind. Some times the earth was rugged, while at times it was rich green. Sitting under a tree in the coolness of its shadow and talking with the children was a heavenly experience. At night, it was a pleasure to see so many bright stars.

And the children! They drew us in like a magnet. They were
raw, impressionable, innocent, eager, always smiling. They were the reason we went there, and we fell in love with them. Of course, on the surface, they were shy. They are taught to be that way. But, deep within – like all children - they were not. They were playful, inquisitive and endearing. They were as pristine as the landscape around them. If nothing else, just being with them would have made the whole trip worthwhile.

Most of my time was spent on talking with them. Getting them together was easy; a one minute conversation with a couple of them would culminate into a large crowd in 5 minutes. A lecture would not hold their attention, so we had a 2-way conversation. They were engaged through (leading) questions. The themes that ran across all this dialogue were: inspiration, courage, knowledge, behavior and good/healthy living. I wanted them to know that they could accomplish a lot – just like these doctors, or Gandhiji, or Kalpana Chawla (yes, every child knew her!) – and how could they go about it. There were hundreds of questions from them on a wide variety of subjects, including life in America. An added bonus: my
Gujarati improved. (On the last day, after a 2-hour marathon Q&A session in Ambardi, I lost my voice.) Some children also sang. Local folklore all the time – no influence of bollywood whatsoever. Children in Amrapur also asked me to sing an “English” song – they had never heard one before.

Bharat, a 4th grader at Ambardi School, is worth a mention. His teachers brought him to me, saying he is brilliant, gets top marks, can run the whole class without a teacher. But, he has a vice – Gutka (chewing tobacco), for which he would even steal. They asked me to give him some advice. After I talked to him, he promised he would not eat Gutka again. Next day, as soon as we reached the school, he came looking for me, apparently to report a day without Gutka. He asked me for my phone number, saying he will call me after I leave the school. He represents the plight of many a young blood, who have tremendous potential, but need help and guidance. I hope he garners the strength to stay away from Gutka.

In South Gujarat, all were Adivasi (Scheduled Tribe – ST) children, while in Saurashtra, they belonged to the so-called Other Backward Class (OBC), also known as Baxi Panch. Communities also included other castes, like Rajput, Brahman, etc., and rare Muslims or Christians. As expected, these villagers were poor, lacking good nutrition, hygiene, sanitation, (higher) education as well as many comforts of modern life (TV, Computers, etc.), with the exception of mobile phones. They lived a hard-working and active life, because laziness was not an option. They were incredibly personable, respectful, soft-spoken and (borrowing a word from our world) cool! I can honestly say that I saw happiness all around.

Some observations about these people: Families are big (4 to 8 children) which contributes to poverty. I was surprised to find that there is no “dowry” for marriage. In fact, the boy’s family gives the girl (bride) some gold (pallu), which becomes her property for life – a lifelong fall back in case of need. Gutka is a problem in Saurashtra. Drinking is not as prevalent as I had thought. (Everybody I talked to did not drink, but they knew people who did.) Not much influence of religion or God. People are generally trusting of each other, and the environment is pretty safe.

I also got to meet some enlightening people. Bhagubhai Darji – a soft-spoken, publicity shy Gandhian and doyen of Ashram Shalas in South Gujarat; Gulabbhai and Ushaben Jani of Sister Nivedita Trust in Rajkot, who have done enormous work in educating children, especially in rural areas. I also got to know some of their staff that has worked tirelessly all through their lives – not just for a few years –towards the same goal. Dr. Kishorbhai Mistry who, after 20+ years in he U.S., now lives in Baroda, giving free medical service to its slum dwellers. (He has also started a knowledge base of Indian NGOs, called NOVOI) He was with us for 2 days – but stayed in the Ashram Shala at night (not with us in the comfort of the Guest House). These people are symbols of many such unknown stalwarts that have dedicated their lives to the upliftment of people all over the world. We can only bow to them and seek their blessings.

It is also worth mentioning Digvirendrasinh Solanki – the (ex)King of Vansda, who invited us to his palace, treated us to Upma/Tea and gave a tour of his historical adventures. He also told us that when he was a young “Yuvraj” studying at St. Xavier’s College in Mumbai, he met Gandhiji, who taught him that the biggest virtue of a King is not his wealth nor his power, but his humility. Personally, meeting a descendant of Solanki/Chalukya dynasty was awesome, while vivid memories of my own grandfather (who looked just like him) came back.

The backdrop of this experience was “freedom”. I was surrounded by successful doctors and volunteers. But, nobody had a personal agenda or an axe to grind. Nobody had anything to show, and nobody to show to. We were all there to see, observe, experience, give and enjoy. This was total freedom from ego (well, almost), which brought out the best in all.

Another dimension of this backdrop was “Gujarat” and “India” – the motherland to all of us at the camp. This was the Gujarat of Siddharaj Jaysinh (Solanki), Munjal Mehta, Kak and Manjari. This was the India of Gandhiji and Sardar Patel. I was happy to be in the lap of the mother. I saw everything that was familiar (a physical illusion) – or, felt familiar (the mental truth). What else could be more comforting?

Along with the familiar motherland came the lovely food, served with warmth and well-known rural hospitality - not the exotic kind, but the simple, tasteful, everyday Gujarati food, along with a variety of fruits – jambu, shingoda, peru, aamla and other familiar varieties. This was heaven for such an indulgence. It is worth noting that the schools that served us food do not have enough money, and their children hardly get to eat such food; but, the hospitality of these noble people transcends everything.

There was plenty of icing on the cake: The welcoming ceremonies and breakfast at every school, every morning, without fail; the painstakingly prepared (4+ hour) cultural program by the children at Kureliya; the courageous girls of Vanchan Shibir who spoke in public for 10 minutes without any notes; the marvelous Ambubhai (teaching for 29 years) who conducted Vanchan Shibir and who had the children laughing and jumping; visiting the king’s palace at Vansda; interesting conversations with the Adivasis who had come for training at the BAIF Training Center (and Guest House) in Lachhakadi; taking a tour of this training center, its fields, mango and cashew plantations and processing plants; buying some exotic stuff at their little store; Dr. Bharatiben showing us various crops with the passion of a seasoned gardener; taking a tour of the Okra field with a farmer and meeting his family; marveling at the farmer’s son climbing up a tree and shaking loose several bors (fruit) to the ground so we could eat them right away; taking a tour of several farms of the Amrapur Ashram Shala; the generosity of teachers at Ambardi Ashram Shala, who gave their scarce food to the 1st grade children of another school at 3 p.m. when they realized that those children had been hungry since morning.

And even more icing: The serene beauty of Ghela Somnath and mesmerizing sunset on the way there; the rugged, brave and smiling woman cook at Ghela Somnath, who joined us for a bus ride and had us marvel at her life; the calm priest of Ghela Somnath (Dada), who joined us for breakfast; the keen ear of the driver in Saurashtra – who never missed a word of his passengers in the midst of the engine noise; discovering the young poet (and singer) in Vatsalbhai in the bus; the singing by all of us in the bus as we traveled through beautiful landscapes; the sincerity, dedication and hard work of local organizers at both camps; especially Kiritbhai and Vatsalbhai in Saurashtra, who made us wonder if they ever slept; the enormous dedication of young student/physician/pharmacist volunteers in all places – especially the passion of the young pharmacist in Saurashtra; the magic of Dr. Ushaben as she produced exotic fruits for us every evening from nowhere; the dedication and desire for service among the visiting doctors, many of whom have been doing this for years; and the endless conversations with the doctors about life and its beauty – and the ensuing friendships.

Finally, a picture that vividly sticks with me is that of the smiling children, giving us high-fives (we showed them) when we arrived every morning, and when we left in the evening, underscoring the feeling that we come and go, but our bonds will stay for ever; and my own desire and wish that they will dream, and be inspired to fulfill that dream, and one day become whatever they want to be in life; and that some of them will be sitting in doctors’ chairs years from now.

I was glad to be in heaven, in the midst of the beautiful, pristine, rural India and its people. If I were a poet, I would write an epic; if I were an artist, I would paint a masterpiece. Both would not have taken up so much space.

But, at the moment, this is the best I can do.