Dave the Nomad

My flight from Istanbul was uneventful. It was nighttime, and futile to try and look at the Middle East below me. I instead delved into several of the on-board movies to choose from, and next thing I knew we were landing. I arrived around 4 am local time, as such, customs was a breeze and I got a pre-paid taxi and headed off to an a pre-arranged guesthouse to sleep for a bit before being taken out to the village the next day.

The taxi ride was a great introduction to driving in India. We dodged through traffic, blockades, cows, and bicycles. It was a very foggy morning, and shadowed figures would emerge from the side of the road only to vanish as quickly as they appeared. The occasional speed bump slowed us down, and it was only after five minutes of swerving I was confident they indeed drove on the left side of the street. The cab driver had no idea where to bring me, and was annoyed I wouldn’t let him drop me off at a well known four star hotel. After asking directions about 6 or7 times we agreed to have a local show us in return for a lift. I arrived at a guarded guest house, where they whisked my bags away and said goodnight.

After a hearty breakfast, a cab was arranged to bring me to the small village of Abheypur. This sounds like an easy task, but it took them almost two hours to figure it out. The ride was a cacophony of action, unlike the side of a typical American / European road, the action is multi-leveled. To start, take the number of lanes marked on the pavement, and double it, that is the approximate number of lanes of traffic there actually is, and rules on passing are as simple as don’t get hit. Immediately off the main flow is the make-shift parking lot of auto rickshaws, mopeds, motorcycles, and the occasional cow. The next section consistently has groups of men huddled around completely some type of action, hammering out a dent, moving bricks, and avoiding the direct sunlight as needed. Lastly, there is the ring of garbage, and heaps of random materials unneeded and allowed to amass with the random scavenging dog, cow, and or pig sifting it as a hopeful past-time. It is only then you get to the action of the street vendor selling food in front of a store, the moving of people, and what you typically would see driving around. For the first half of the trip, it was this type of sensory overload that filled my vision and with time fields slowly replacing shops. In time we were back to the same protocol of stopping at each intersection to see which way it was to the village. After a half hour of driving around a rural area doing this, we were in a small village of sorts backed up by an extra muddy street. As I looked at the car in front of me, I saw it was filled with Caucasian people; a rarity since arriving. I deduced we were close, and we followed the other car for another ten minutes and arrived at the schoolyard in Abheypur.

The village is sparse, and definitely a place in need of this help. The street is at times filled with a watery concoction, and the open drainage ways thick with film. Cow patties are strewn around drying, and eventually stacked neatly to be used as fuel. Buffalo are tied up inside courtyards, or along the edge of the street, and the pace of life is sluggish. The village is divided more or less into sections, with farmers holding better land, and an area named as the “Potter’s Village,” where more impoverished villagers lived. The village is built at the base of some hills overlooking a vast plain of fields. This area is referred to as the bread belt of India, with the main crops being wheat and mustard. The hills above the village are grazed by goats and cows, and offer a great view of the surrounding countryside. Peacocks run wild around the area, and would invade the schoolyard when possible. In the mornings, the monkeys would come over to scope out the action, and if possible steal some villager’s food.

Dave Pines, the Profesor in charge of the University of Hartford EWB Chapter introduced me to the team, and showed me what the team has completed on past projects. This includes a solar powered well, storage tanks, and a pipeline with more storage tanks to a nearby section of the village, and the current project creating a rain water harvesting and filtration system. In addition to the engineering project, a group from the art school had joined them to paint a mural to help teach the girls about sharing, respecting water, cleanliness, and using dustbins. After hanging out with the team for the afternoon, helping as much as I could, and playing with the kids after school who insisted on having just “one photo” taken of them, we piled into the mini-bus and van to head to a local school boarding school, Pathways, where we were graciously being hosted.

Pathways World School is an international school located about an hour from Abheypur. They recently prided themselves on having six students selected as guests to the US Presidential Inauguration of Barack Obama. The school was a complete change from the village, immaculate expansive campus, with cafeteria, and homey dorm rooms. It was comforting, and relaxing. At the same point it was bizarre. Although I was in India, I was back in the company of Americans; many of whom have never traveled outside of the US before, and I had flashbacks of being back in the US. It was an odd feeling, but not an unpleasant one, everyone has been welcoming and inclusive, and I’m glad they have allowed me to join them.