My international development career is looking up once more! I visited the Education Department yesterday morning, hardly any great feat considering it occupies a room in the guesthouse on the same floor as the dormitories. The department is headed by a cross-looking lady with a pretty face called Chandrika, whose glasses and teacherly mien radiate an academic air. We have encountered each other on the guesthouse stairs before and she greeted me familiarly, seemingly unsurprised at my errand. She got down to brass tacks quickly and told me that there was scope for me to do some work with a Youth Resource Centre in a little town called Delwara. Delwara I know by reputation already, as it is something of a Vikas Samiti flagship, with many different projects operating there. I have also heard that it has an ethnically heterogenous population - different castes, different religions - which is a huge attraction for me after the homogeneity of Maal. A Youth Resource Centre or YRC, as far as I can gather, is exactly what it sounds like - a centre providing resources for youths. I suppose it is open to all the youths of Delwara and perhaps nearby villages, and the resources include games, books and even a computer.
The brief is typically vague: to spend some time considering livelihoods for youths. Delwara, apparently, has a growing unemployment problem, and one of the functions of the YRC is to advise, encourage and empower young people in their search for meaningful employment. My role will be to investigate possible sources of livelihood in and around Delwara, and to assist the YRC in whatever action is required to bridge the gap between youth and livelihood. If I sound glib, it is merely a symptom of utter bewilderment. The ethos of the project is noble, providing that it does not degenerate into the kind of basket-making fest I described on November 24th, but the mechanics of it are totally mysterious. I accepted the project gladly, nevertheless (I am a beggar here, after all) and hurried over to break the glad tidings to Sumita, in some trepidation as to her reaction. As it happened she seemed quite relieved not to have to make any arrangements herself, and our discussion could be described, at a pinch, as borderline amicable.
The project has not really got underway yet, and my only contribution so far has been to attend a general meeting today where staff from all six of Vikas Samiti’s YRCs issued Chandrika with a progress report and discussed future plans. They are a young bunch, and appear to come predominantly from lower-middle class backgrounds, most speaking limited English. In contrast, Chandrika, in her early thirties, comes over as a faintly harassed urban sophisticate and exerts a firm but benign authority over the group.
The meeting was in Hindi and I was not able to follow much of it. As is customary, the discussion was liberally peppered with English words and expressions and the occasional sentence. In the middle of a heated Hindi dialogue, Chandrika suddenly exclaimed “You are living in a fool’s paradise!” and I was relieved that none of the English volunteers were with me, as the inevitable sidelong glances might easily have developed into a protracted struggle with rising hysteria. After half an hour I began to drift a little and was brought back to attention with a start when I heard my name mentioned. Chandrika introduced me to the shy young man to my right who turned out to be in charge of the Delwara YRC. His name sounds like Hedda, although I doubt he is named after Ibsen’s heroine. We have arranged that I will take a bus into Delwara on Monday morning so he can show me whatever it is that constitutes the ropes.
Before this, however, I am going on a romantic mini-break - alone. The romance will arise entirely from the surroundings, and solitude is therefore a pre-requisite. I am going to Chittor, the venerable old fort town that served as the capital of Mewar until the battle of Haldi Ghati that Prakash and I had our differences of opinion over. I am thrilled at the prospect of rambling around the by all accounts spectacular fort at my own pace, with Brian Masters’ book as my guide. I am also desperate to escape Udaipur and everybody here for just one night and Chittor seems like the perfect balm for my cabin fever. I have been a little churlish and kept my trip a secret, as the alternatives - either having to be brutally firm with anybody who asks to come with me or being lumbered with an unwanted companion, however delightful, witty and intelligent - fill me with mild dread. I hasten to add that I am not quite conceited enough to assume that everybody would regard a trip with me to Chittor as a fantasy weekend away. I think, however, that I am not being totally unrealistic in imagining that a few people might express a mild interest in this trip. So I shall creep out early tomorrow - a one-man elopement - and indulge my Rajput fantasies for a glorious couple of days. I can’t wait!
Next Post - Saturday 9th December 2006: Udaipur (will be posted Friday 9th December 2011)
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