Extra Extra! white girls REJOICE with ice cream!

divali came and went with tons of booms and crashes that made us think bombs were going off around sambhavna. I painted all day (made 3 crazy patchy paintings on newspaper canvases glued together with flour and water paste.. ahh all natural materials prove the impact that the sambhavnan state of mind is having on me). Alizarin and Ruth spent their time ‘rejoicing’ (as Roopa would earnestly say) with Roopa on this precious day off (she’s a hardworking ayurvedic doc) playing Indian card games.

 

We made eggplant with a coconut, peanut, cilantro sauce as well as rice and chapattis cause jayshree didn’t come to cook

 

Sunday we read in the library- I picked up Food, Inc. and got really into it

At night we watched 2 movies with Amarin, Roman and Roopa (Werner Herzog’s Encounters at the End of the World it think. SHOUT OUT TO NICK HEMENWAY #1 werner Herzog fan du monde.. and District 9 later)

 

The rest of the week flew by but here are some things that happened…

Tuesday we paper mached hardcore at ICJB with the Children against Dow Carbide, finishing the sculpture’s head, face, body, hair and arms

Alizarin and Ruth watched Casablanca with the kids and Roopa while I talked with two new volunteers who had just arrived after a 36 hour train ride from Calcutta. I wanted to give them the low dows about Sambhavna so it would be easier for them to understand what the system is here than it was for us. They are both named Victoria, very bubbly, from NY and New Orleans respectively and have been traveling all over the middle east and India since July now. They’re here for 10 days. Already we’re having a lot of fun with them.

Wednesday we went to Chowk (a nearby market composed of tiny winding lanes of stands with fabrics, popcorn sellers meandering about, every type of chappal you could possibly want) and to 2 nearby mosques with a schoolteacher who does a lot of work with Sambhavna, Shakila. She originally asked us to do an English lesson but we ended up just kind of hanging out and exploring with her. She was very sweet but a little unclear about the whole thing. We got a new type of ice cream, funky flavored scoops in bright orange cones (alizarin and I got saffron and pistachio, ruth got a neon purple raisin flavor. Indiatastic yum) and saw out of the corner of our eyes a man snapping picks of us enjoying the treat…

Thursday a researcher told us we were in the paper. The random ice cream pick was in the centerfold of the Raj Express! It was Alizarin and the 2 Victorias getting down on their ice cream looking fierce. the caption says how happy they are to be enjoying the ‘beautiful capital’ but they all look they’re about to battle somebody. very funny that 5 white girls is worthy of that kind of coverage. we joked that we eat ice cream so much that many papers could start to feature us in a sort of 'where's waldo?' series where bhopalis would guess where we were lickin' our cones... Also, CNN international came to the clinic that day to interview Sathyu and ended up asking Ruth a few questions about Bhopal and why we were there. Very odd. We just ate our usual 4 sprigs of holy basil (also called tulsi and supposedly an ayurvedic malaria prophalaxis… can’t hurt. maximum malaria protection is the plan) and went on with our day.. Ah and I finished Food Inc.- it was a quite good intro for me to the horror of industrial food production, the harm of ethanol production, the migrant labor system and GM and also a helpful guide in terms of what to do to protest this unnatural, uber-corporate situation that Americans are trapped in. I highly recommend it.

We had a major breakthrough with the kids at ICJB and finally got them involved with the sculpture which they had hitherto been kinda reluctant to get into- partially cause the paper mache was so messy and in a way hard to do. They painted so much- everyone shared bowls of the all natural paint we made from gulal pigment and water or oil (after Sathyu’s rejection of the idea of us using acrylic, the toxicity of which we had never thought about before). Even the little kids got into it- painting her sari yellow and green, her hair black and even criticizing the brown we had mixed and making a better one! it was a great feeling to see all the kids getting into it- joking and teasing us about our hindi all the while. the victories took pictures of the process and we talked about Dow and the water contamination. when the sculpture was all covered with layer # 1 and looking pretty fine, we thought, we had a mini hindi dance party! after the kids left- this time without cajoling from us- we walked with Vikas and got our indulgent post-work tradition underway- TOP ‘N TOWN ICE CREAM TIME! we walked home victorious with the victories…

Today I woke up and did hindi; I can now decipher a lot of sounds from the symbols. my brain is primed with a rocky foundation for really learning this language in-depth. then I helped the victories de-rock the dry ground in the playground area for kids (a work in progress that the gardener, Ratna, told me they will be covering with soft, fastgrowing mossy lawn grass tomorrow and Monday. I pledged our help) Ratna and I made plans to meet Monday about us making a permanent metal sign showing the different plants grown on a map of the garden and she also asked if we could teach her to bake western style bread. I said hell yes but we do have to find an oven or at least the materials to make the solar one we’ve been dreaming of… Later I finished a poster the cleaning lady asked us to do about how to make all natural soap from arita nuts (which the clinic does all the time), read 90 rambling and intense and frankly manic pages to finish off Moon Palace by Paul Auster. I went down to the ping pong room and found Ruth and Alizarin playing a beatly 2 hour long tournament with a bunch of Sambhavna workers who had stayed for the occasion. It was hilarious and so impressive. Then I read more, part of an autobiography of Gandhi in French, and we chilled before a long, amazing dinner. Aloo gobi with green lentils and paratha with cilantro in the batter. My eyes were filled with hearts for Jayshree, as usual. Sathyu teased Ruth mercilessly and that was great. After dinner it was scrabble, envelope making out of hindi newspapers inspired by Ruth and another long story-filled conversation with the Victorias who mostly talked about (and acted out animatedly) crazy experiences they had working together in one of New Orleans’ most famous bars on Bourbon street. There were insane roommates, meth dealers, bounty hunters, hookers from vegas, a attempted shooting and the wacky and dark aftermath of Katrina- in short a whole lot of crazy shit with New Orleans flavor. The two are hilarious and so far very fun to hang out with. We made plans for gardening for tomorrow and alarms are set. Time for teethbrushing with filtered agua and sleep sleep sleep.

We owe you a big thank you

Sorry we haven't posted this earlier-the list keeps growing-but we're sending out a HUGE post of thanks to everyone who contributed to our Sambhavna Trust donation fundraiser.

Here goes...

Thank you so much Joe Gencarelli, Kathryn Tholin, Heidi Ong, the Crowell family, the Hines family, the Mrvickas, Pat Eichenold, the Lazarus clan, the Knowlton family, Roni Seltzberg, Mrs. Yu, the Hemenways, Grammy and Grampy, Michelle and Phillipe Leroux, Anne Northrup, Susan Kilbane, Nancy Kelly, Gay Swenson, Randi Friedman and Lester Krumholz, Adele Simmons, Bradley and Karen Shea, Rachel DeWoskin, Grandma Mari, Karen Bopp (we love you!), Bonnie Eddy, Kim Menninga, Larry and Mary Menninga, Dr. DeeDee, Mary Castiglione and Scott Minter, Mark Pickus and Donna Caplin, Chrisabeth Menninga, the Berman-Brotmen, Fabio Beron, Michael Cates, Patricia Tebeau, Barbara Di Eugenio, B. J. Richards, Bill Ayers, Grandpa Minter, Bill Rehm and Joanny Ruby, Tracey Shafroth, Karen Fogg (for everything!), Margaret Lin, Papa Eddy, Mama Eddy, Shannon Azaria, the Menninga-Fongs, the Burgi-Huttons, Rick Ayers and Ilene Abrams, Anne and Frederick Klonsky, Kimberly Allen, Richard Pokorny and Ellen Wehrle, and Uncle Mike.

If there's anyone we forgot to mention, don't hesitate to let us know. We appreciate you!

Sathyu and Rachna were so grateful when we handed over the contributions (which came to about $ 3,500!) and they will definitely put them to good use running the clinic. Just to give you all a basic idea about what your money is going toward and what an impact you are having here's some info about the daily ongoings at Sambhavna (all of which are made possible by individuals' donations as Sambhavna does not take any corporate sponsorship on principle).

There are 2 ayurvedic doctors here who each see about 35-40 patients a day and 2 allopathic doctors as well (one is a pediatrician). Roughly 200 patients receive care every day -in the form of checkups, panchakarma therapy like massages, enemas etc., yoga and ayurvedic/allopathic medicine from the free dispensary. These patients come from any of 17 neighborhoods in Old Bhopal which are either effected by contaminated water/soil or were effected by the MIC gas leak in 1984. one must have been alive during the disaster, effected in utero or second generation effected (because the toxins have infiltrated genes) or be using the contaminated water to be elligible for care. People recieve all kinds of care here, not just for directly or overtly gas-related ailments; kids often come for general checkups and people come for fevers/colds or yoga that relates to diabetes and obesity.

Sambhavna is unique as a clinic in the sense that it is multi-faceted and its opreations pertain to the many different factors relating to Bhopalis' health and the disaster. There are 12+ researchers who go out into the effected communities daily to take surveys on health and the surrounding environment. They are currrently working on an extensive project on the incidence of cervical cancer among those effected by the toxins. There is also a team of health workers whose job entails going around the bastis (slums) and other neighborhoods to see if people need to be referred to Sambhavna for care, do follow ups on those who have been treated (creating a sort of check and balance system), make sure people are using medicine and dieting correctly (a major problem in Bhopal has been abuse/overuse of medicine because of lack of instruction, etc. many people who now go to Sambhavna were ingesting high doses of harmful, expensive steroids and painkillers before.), do malaria & anemia control and do screening for cervical cancer. The healthworkers also do special projects like health camps on certain days for people in the most effected areas (cause they are so far from the clinic) like the neighborhoods of nawab colony and shivshaktinagar which are nearest the factory site. In the past they have brought medicinal and vitamin rich herbs to people for planting family gardens and have set up 2 herbal gardens in the most effected areas.

The plants and seeds come from the herb garden around Sambhavna where 3 gardeners work daily to grow tons of plants including bamboo, hibiscus, aloe, guavas, tulsi 'holy basil', roses, tumeric, neem and more. These plants are used to make about 80 different ayurvedic medicines for everything ranging from malaria prevention to diarrhea meds to treatment of skin issues.

Most importantly, Sambhavna lives up to the ideals that prompted its creation. The name means compassion and possibility, sentiments that are reflected in the work the clinic achieves and how it is run. One of the most impressive things about Sambhavna is the egalitarianism of its inner workings; all workers, from the managing trustee to the doctors to the gardeners to the cleaning ladies, assemble together at a weekly meeting on Friday. People sit in a large circle lining the walls of a cricular, thatch roofed hut between the main building and the garden and have a thorough discussion of the goings-on of the week. Anyone can bring up a topic or concern and they do! quite directly and bluntly. Health workers question the effectiveness of doctors' work, researchers criticize the cleaners' attention to detail, people voice their concern if the dal at the canteen is too watery and they think there should be a new chef. But they also congratulate eachother, pinpoint successes, joke and laugh a lot and make big decisions collectively about expenditures and rules. The workers are truly a community with ample communication, friendship and dedication to work binding them together (along with widely shared loves of ping pong and karams). Also, Sambhavna's principle of valuing all types of workers is illustrated by its pay scale. No worker (even the highest paid doctor and the managing trustee) makes more than 5 times what the lowest paid worker receives (including those who clean, cook and do security). Not many businesses or NGOs can say the same.

Again, the contributions that we brought and those of others who are concerned are used to do all of what I have described by composing the budget of Sambhavna and supplying the wages of its deserving workers. Thank you all again for your generosity and compassion. And for those who would like to donate you can go to Sambhavna's website (bhopal.org) for more info. Much love.

The definition of eerie

On Wednesday Oct. 14 our mission was to gain entry to and explore the rotting, old Union Carbide Factory- the sight on the disastrous chemical leak on Dec. 3 &4 1984. The disaster cost 20,000 Bhopalis their lives and continues to haunt Old Bhopal in the form of chemical contanimation in the soil and water, as well as, on going health problems (which Sambhavna strives to treat people for). 

 

Our first task was to get permission from the Madhya Pradesh gov. We headed over the the collector's office at 11 am. We rode up to a chaotic site with a dozen men sitting at an outdoor table to the right of a building made of semi-open tiles which tons of people were crowded around and along shoving papers, requests, hazy passport photos and IDs through the holes to numerous government peons, who were themselves barricaded by stacks of grey-brown old papers frosted with a thick layer of dust, and were quickly shuffling through them and sending people off in a million directions. We finally got assigned a room in the building- 101. I would go on but describing each room we were sent to would be so arduous and repetitive. Each one had people in dark corners idly flipping through dingy books, jotting down page-long numbers, and shuffling and reshuffling the books and string-tied stacks of ancient-looking dust grey papers that lined every wall. Copies were made, things were shuffled, looks were given, we were once asked why we wished to 'go and see nothing' (and we replied with a few bats of our eyelashes that we learned about it in school and were oh so interested) and about 20 Indian men signed our sheet and sent us on our way. VICTORY NUMBER TWO WITH THE INFAMOUS BUREAUCRACY OF THE INDIAN GOV! (no. 1 being our visas)

 

 Entering the compound. (2 guides, shehnaz, alizarin and me)

 

After lunch we met up with Shehnaz, who had never been and decided to come with us on our tour of the factory. We walked North for approx. 10 minutes and then sauntered up to the gate with our fancy MP-backed permission papers and handed them to the guards lounging at the end of an overgrowth-lined path. 2 men offered to show us around. The factory sits in a vast compound (we were told of 100 acres) which is largely overgrown with vines, grass, leafy bushes and mint all interspersed with crumbling brown bricks, the sparkled of monsoon-flattened litter and the occasional rusted metal object. The first thing we saw was a little clearing where about 6 giant black water buffalo were grazing green stalks grown on contaminated soil. My first instinct: this shit is eerie. then a thin, man with dark leathery skin emerged from the brush to the right our path carrying a long pole across his shoulders and cutting plants. 

 

We walked past a large, rusty 3 legged metal tower and the guards explained in Hindi (Shehnaz translated) that it was the control tower that was supposed to sound the alarm continuously to warn people of a chemical on the night of the disaster. In fact, it was deactivated  to avoid alarming people (!). 

                     

We approached the actual factory and the specific area where the pesticide Sevin was produced using the lethal chemical that leaked that night, methyl isocyanate or MIC. It was a mass of Dr.Seuss-esque piping, screws, furry thermocole insolation and corrogated metal. It was rusting and  it was obvious that parts had fallen off or been stripped off by desperate residents of the nearby slums to sell as scrap metal. A strange acidic smell merged with that of buffalo dung and mint. It may have been phsycological but Shehnaz started to feel strange as we walked around. We stepped on a pile of some stuff that looked like hampster pellets and, in fact, was a substance used to mop up a chemical that leaked (according to the guard). 

 

  The MIC tank.   

 

Next we walked past a giant black structure surrounded by trees and shrubs. It looked like an old submarine or an enormous black pill. It was the tank that leaked 40 tons of MIC into the air in 1984. The plants we nearly overtaking it and like many structures around the factory, it seemed as if nature was trying to gobble up the toxic remains of that horrible night, though we know that it can't. On the contrary, the remains have the potential to gobble up nature.

  The shed.   

 

Then we passed a shed that the guard told us contained more MIC (though Sathyu later told us this must have simply been a bad translation and that there is no MIC in that tank). Alizarin and Ruth peered in and took pictures but Shehnaz and I ran away because we were freaked out by the guards warnings that cobras and other poisonous snakes dwell there. Overall, the shock of this surreal and utterly eerie place was sinking in. 

 

Us in the former control room  

Next we went to a building that was mostly overrun with cobwebs and dirt. After quickly surveying a small room that must have once been an office (in which we found an old broom and a purple kite, the first concrete proof that kids still play on the factory site) we hoisted ourselves through a broken window into the former control room, where UCC workers once sat when they were informed of the leak and hesitantly fiddled with the broken valves, to no avail. It was a creepy moment looking at the 3d architectural plans of the factory which were clearly labeled with different chemicals (including MIC and Sevin) below the empty sockets where valve control switches must have been below a big yellow sticker reading "SAFETY IS EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS". 

 

Finally, we walked around behind the factory after prodding the guards for a while to let us see the slums. I expected a high metal wall with maybe some barbed wire to separate them from the factory compound. What we found was a dilapidated brick wall with makeshift structures lining every inch of it (greying wooden poles propped up burlap and plastic tarps). We were shocked to watch a 12 yr old boy scale it with ease until we saw the gaping, 10 foot holes where there wasn't even wall. Kids skipped in and out, women had hung colorful laundry across it and there was a muddy, plastic studded stream just outside it that a few toddlers splashed across to come see us, the gori goris, and wave hi. Seeing the intimate, direct contact that these people have with such an acutely contaminated site left us floored and speechless. I challenge anyone who doubts the gravity of the humanitarian crisis in Old Bhopal to do so while walking around that compound, while beholding rusty tanks leaching stagnant chemicals and tiny, fragile, smiling children ankle-deep in mud within 20 feet of eachother. I know that after that experience I will keep fighting until Dow takes responsibility, the site is cleaned and justice is achieved for Bhopalis.

Supplies and buckwild little activists

Yesterday was a strange one. The morning wasn't very eventful cause Ruth and Alizarin woke up at 10!!! Man we have got to get back on track with our 7 am wake up calls cause right now we're slacking! We did a little bit of Hindi with the Yoga instructor Bharti and then headed off to Bharat Bhawan (the art/cultural center) where we had a brief meeting with a taciturn, little man who is the head of the graphic arts department. We paid 500 rupees and filled out a few forms and now we're set to make silkscreens with cool Indian artists whenever we want!

Our next mission: to get supplies for the sculpture we are making with the Children against Dow-Carbide and start to make the foundation for it. Only one of us can go with Vikas (a polite and handsome, or interesting as Roopa would say, ICJB worker) to buy what we need (which is a 4x4' plank of plywood, flour, a bendable metal screen, mad thick wire, yellow cloth, nails, red markers) so we nominated the healthiest among us. ALIZARIN! She just jumped on the back of Vikas' bike and was off! When Ruth and I met up with her later at ICJB headquarters she told us how she carried the plywood on the back of the bike and felt like all the Indians who we see every day carrying chairs, speakers, large quantities of babychildren, futons or 20 ft poles.

We started our work at ICJB around 1:30 (or DAYR in hindi) by molding the screen into a skirt shape, nailing it to the plywood, making a supportive structure inside out of spare wood and wire and then (to the kids' amusement when they showed up at 4) crumpling up tons of newspaper and filling the skirt up. We also had the kids write their ideas and feelings about the water contamination in red sharpie on a giant yellow cloth that we will drape on the sculpture as a sari in the later stages. By the end of the meeting we were so tired out by the kids who are very rambunctious and hyper and were constantly tugging us around and mocking our lack of hindi skills..

After an intense floor cleaning session (without the kids' help as they had just been herded out by our screams of 'FIR MELENGE!' meaning see you later and 'CHALO!' lets go).. We celebrated our work by treating Vikas to icecream at the snack store that we now know is the ultimate snack emporium of BHOPAL! If you happen to be stoppin' by just know there's no street name; tell your shaw driver snack zone across from hospital (and theres about a billion in Bhopal so your gonna have to specify Jawaharlal Nehru Hospital).

At home we had dinner with the giant family that Sambhavna's volunteer population has become. Let's count em--- Me, Alizarin, Ruth, Roman (the Austrian computer programmer who works for the Bhopal medical appeal), Javed (Kashmiri ICJB student coordinator), Maude, Roopa, Amiran (traveling freelance photojournalist ), Jimmy, Ashish, Sathyu, and Rachna...12 in ALLL! We also made a chart so that everyday 2 people will be responsible for doing a little (or a lot) extra cleanup.. this was prompted by an incident a few days ago when dal, rice and chapatis were left out and we found some chipmunks feasting like kings!

Our family grows and Vodafones

We've been pretty busy as of late. We went to bed with plans to cook an American brunch of french toast, apple pancakes, omelets, and fruit salad, but when we woke up Rachna said we had to hang the signs in Bharat Bhawan (the art center on the other side of the lake where the Yes Men Fix the World premier is tonight). We rickshawed it over (first time on our own) and talked to some of the artists there before Rachna arrived. They pay Rs. 200 a month and have access to incredible facilities, a deal we're hoping to get in on so that we can mass-produce some Bhopal propaganda or something equally awesome. Bharat Bhawan is similar to Sambhavna in that when you walk in its gates, you feel like you're traveling worlds apart. When you enter Sambhavna's gates, the air clears up and the noise dies down and space opens around you like magic. The picture on the right is of the view from a ledge that we sat on admiring the view, reading (demonstrated by Dede, left) and talking about communal living and tipping.

Besides relaxing in the sun at Bharat Bhavan, we made and set up some more Yes Men posters.

We rickshawed home, had some lunch, then hopped the back of two ICJB guys' motorcycles to the Children Against Dow Carbide meeting. Most open, thrilling form of transportation yet. The meeting was going smoothly, everyone liked our ideas and we're excited to get the project started tomorrow. The best part, though, was the breakdown. They decided to postpone the rest of the meeting agenda because enough had been accomplished, and all of a sudden everyone started singing in Hindi. Once they were done with that, kids would request songs then get up and do their individual dance routines. Best meeting ever.

The Yes Men Fix the World premier later that night. The house was packed and we laughed louder than anyone else there, but everyone enjoyed it and we highly recommend it to all of you out there. Check out their website to see if the movie will be showing anywhere near you: www.theyesmen.org.

It was a long day, but I don't think we can say anything's taken us as long as it did to get our cell phone chips today. We had to go to the same place three times before coming away with newly equipped inter-India Vodafones. The first time, the guy behind the counter told us we needed a resident's identification, so we walked the blocks back to the clinic and got copies of Sathyu's passport. When we returned, he told us that we actually needed three separate passport photos of him. Are you serious? Where the hell are we supposed to get three passport photos of Sathyu? He probably doesn't even have those. This sucks.

But being the resourceful little girls that we are, Dede remembered that we'd been snapping shots of him at the premier last night and that they were still on my camera in her bag! So we took a rickshaw to a photo place on Hamidia Road and had them crop and zoom in on the above photo to be just his head. They told us it was going to take at least half an hour to get the pictures done, so we went to the Taj-ul Masjid (third largest mosque in Asia, built in 1877) in the mean time with our neighbor friends. This is a picture she took of us in front of a view from the side of the mosque looking shine-tastic.

Bottom line: we got our mobiles and now we can call Roopa any time we want! Yes!!

By dinnertime tonight, our modest gang of volunteers (Maude and us) had grown by three: two journalists and a Kashmiri guy working with ICJB. And now it's time for bed.

Hogaya.

I don't know why you say ruko, I say chalo.

Prep yourselves for a short post because Ruth just invited me to her bunk and you know I can't turn that down. Toast and malaria pills for breakfast, yoga with Bharti for Ruth and I, painting another huge Yes Men Fix the World advertisement for Dede.

Next stop: canteen lunch.













Then Ruth and I took our now-regular post-meal walk through the garden, a habit picked up from the ayurvedic professional Roopa.
Some flowers from the garden. Anybody know what they are? We have yet to delve into the plants and their uses.

We made some more posters after lunch then hopped the bus (Rs. 1 per kilometer the bus drives you) to Shehnaz's where we spent the evening getting to know her family, neighbors, and failing at cooking rotis. She lives in a one flat with an accessable roof (as all roofs are) with fifteen other family members. We spent hours with them and got to know her sisters and neighbors, all of whom seemed somewhat fascinated by our being there.

This is a picture of Shehnaz, our friend, translator, and the keeper of files.

postermaking

      Ashish gets ahold of the camera   
    Ashish's photos of us painting  

 shehnaz's drawing of sathyu yawning! haha

 Alizarin lookin fly in that manly muscle shirt!