ABDF

Wednesday, August 19, 2009 While I can’t believe that it’s been almost two weeks since I last wrote. My how the time goes. I’m happy to tell you about some great progress on our projects. August is a good time for our projects. Many of our local partners (Prabha for water tanks, Balan for computer labs, etc.) are teachers and in August school is out for the month. That frees up their time and they can spend more time with masons, electricians and so forth. And this is why June is slow; they are prepping their classes for end-of-year exams, grading the papers, etc. I’m sure all my teacher friends can totally relate. So… where to begin? How about water tanks? The tank in Palakkadu was completed shortly after I wrote my last blog. This tank, like the others we’ve built, holds 10,000 liters, and given Palakkadu’s size, is enough drinking and cooking water for three days. When I went out to look at the final product, the relief on the village headmans’ face was very obvious. One less thing for his people to worry about. True, they still have to schlep some kilometers on bicycle with plastic jugs to fetch water for washing, but it means reducing the number of trips by at least half. The Divisional Secretary was extremely appreciative, especially at the speed with which we’ve responded to his request. And so, of course, he has asked us to build more in several nearby villages. When I say Palakkadu has zero water, I mean it quite literally. We had to hire a local guy from the village to bike out to get water for mixing the cement. THAT is how dry Palakkadu is. Or was, I should say. In part due to his request, and in part due to a personal appeal from the villagers themselves, we’ve started building another tank, this one in the village of Shalampailkerny, a kilometer or two away from Palakkadu. The situation is pretty much the same as in Palakkadu, with the exception that their small communal well is a bit deeper, so brackish water is accessible for longer during the dry season. This means they can at least use local water for washing and watering. Construction began last Sunday, the 16th, and should be completed soon. Unfortunately, the DS’s other tank requests will have to wait until next year when I have more funds; I’m pretty much at the bottom of the project budget barrel, and this tank will be the last of our larger projects this year. Our next biggest project is the fence around the school at Mangikkadu, next door to one of our water tanks. Thanks to generous donations from Jerry in the UK, and Heather and Dave in California, we now have enough moolah to provide a proper, stable, last-a-long-time fence for the school. I’ve asked Prabha to go ahead and order the concrete posts; that should take a week or so, and then we can begin constructing the fence, just as the Shalampailkerny tank is finished (we’re using the same contractor). Jerry, Heather, Dave – you guys rock! Thank you so much! The two housing projects we are sponsoring in Valachchenai through the local St. Vincent de Paul are supposedly complete as of last weekend. I haven’t been out to see them yet, and plan to go this weekend with Vive, my SVP partner. The projects took a bit longer to complete as the local SVP chapter President had a funeral to attend to, and so delayed implementing the project. I’ve written in past dispatches how very important funerals are in Tamil culture. However, I did lightly scold the man; who is more important, I asked, the living or the dead? Plus, he himself was not doing the work. Surely he could have spared a few hours, dealt with the contractor, and then let the man do his work? The President, who is well-intention but incapable of multi-tasking, was slightly apologetic but couldn’t really answer my question about the living vs. the dead. Both Vive and I are a little frustrated with the man for this and several other reasons. Oh well, it’s all a learning process, n’est pas? As you hopefully know, we are supporting a local man named Thivyan, who is a Third Year medical student. We give him a very small monthly stipend, and bought his reference books for him. Well, I guess I’m rather known among medical students; I received a petition from one Amarie, a lady third year student. She’s requesting books and a few pieces of equipment, such as a stethoscope. I’m in the process of reviewing her information to see if she really is as poor as she says she is. If we can, I will try to help her, but I made her no promises. I do like the idea of helping women become doctors, though. There just aren’t enough of ‘em here. OK, so I’ve got to tell you about the day at Zahira IDP Camp. You will recall from my last letter that Vive from SVP came by to ask help in funding a day of fun and games at the local refugee camp, which contains just over 120 families. They had a shortfall in their collections, and would we pay for the food for lunch? I agreed, and decided to use money donated to ABDF by Brandon, the son of an old high school friend of mine. Brandon had received what’s called a Charity Check for his Bar Mitzvah, and gave it to us. I thought it really appropriate that Brandon use his Bar Mitzvah money to fund food and entertainment for a bunch of refugee kids. Nice symmetry, eh? Thank you Brandon! I arrived at the camp shortly after lunch, as I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of. So I was there for the activities part of the day. And I’ve gotta tell you how much fun it was. There were al sorts of contests, races, and events for everyone; all ages, men and women. The two tug-of-wars between teams of camp moms were hysterical, as was the flour sack race for the small boys. But the two races that got the biggest cheers were the old amma (mother) footrace, and especially the race between the old appas (fathers). These gentlemen were into their 60s and 70s, but man-oh-man, you should have seen them hustle! For both races, the camp was on its feet, cheering, shouting, and encouraging the contestants. While there, I got to talking with a lot of people; especially friendly were the young men in their late teens and 20s. I learned a lot about their story and situation. The camp residents are all members of one village near Trincomalee, the District to the north. Their area was one of the first that saw fighting during this last phase of the civil war. They were driven out of their homes one morning by artillery duals between the LTTE and the government and they wound up in Zahira with little more than the clothes on their backs. Their village was destroyed, their farms wrecked, and their livestock killed or stolen. This was over 2 ½ years ago, and they’ve been languishing ever since. Their former village has now been declared a High Security Zone, which means they can’t go home. They’ve been promised property along the coast in the northern part of Batti District, but no land for farming. Think about it; these folks are farmerfolk. What are they supposed to do? Fish? They don’t know from fishing. At least they’ve been able to stick together as a unit. Silver lining, silver lining. But it is infuriating. The IDP camp itself is, to say the least, dreary. It’s constructed well enough, and the three old-fashioned hand pumps provide adequate clean water. But there are no streets, only dirt lanes, and no electricity. They get very basic food rations from the government; mostly rice and lentils, but seldom vegetables, and never meat. Imagine eating nothing but rice and lentils for two years! (Brandon’s check paid for both veggies and – much to the camp’s delight – chicken.) But the biggest problem is boredom. The school-age kids all go to a local school, but after school there isn’t much for them to do. And the adults – well, only a few of them have managed to find work. Most of them sit around all day, trying to find something to do; I tell you I’ve never seen such an immaculate place in my life! Here’s the thing: up until now I was very cynical about these sorts of events. ABDF deals almost exclusively with projects that are tangible. A water tank is tangible; you can see it, touch it, and more importantly, you can see the benefit to the community. These are the projects I feel most comfortable with. To me, paying for these warm and fuzzy events, with their intangible benefits, seems like a waste of time and money. I am answerable to my Board and my donors, and it’s hard to justify spending money on food for an event, and to quantify the benefits. I get these sorts of requests all the time, and I’m pretty ambivalent. After my experience at Zahira, I think I’m willing to be a bit more flexible on the issue, and I think ABDF ought to as well. The laughter, the smiles, the cheers, the way those folks supported and encouraged each other, it was absolutely heart-warming to see. For just one day, all their troubles, stresses, and uncertainties vanished and they were able to let their hair down and have a good time. It was something to see. So I think we should be more open to these sorts of requests. However, in general I’m still a bit suspicious of them, so I think that I will have to vet each request VERY carefully. Also, these types of projects should represent only a fraction of our project budget. Thus far, everything we’ve done with SVP, despite the small problems in Valachchenai, has been entirely satisfactory and above-board. So they are one group I definitely trust. In different news, I’m glad to say that Easwaran’s wallet was recovered and returned to him intact and complete. A Muslim fellow down in Kattankudy found it on the road and, after a bit of investigating, was able to contact Easwaran. To say Eawaran was relieved would be an understatement. The Kattankudy man, named Riswan, has a son who will take the A-levels in two years, and so was very sympathetic to Easawarn’s situation. As a thank-you, Easwaran bought the man a bottle of brandy, which he (Riswan) insisted they open and share. So Easwarn spent the whole afternoon in Kattankudy, sharing the bottle, and chatting up a storm with Riswan in his home. From what I can tell, they have become friends. This is great; given the situation here, many Muslims and Tamils are friends, but it’s rare to have this level of relaxed down-home socializing, except among the upper class. So now we have a friendship between a poor village Tamil farmer’s son and a working class Muslim shopkeeper. One more step towards Tamil/Muslim unity. After the exams are over next week, I’m going to go with Easwaran to visit Riswan. The A-Level exams are pretty intense. They are a series of four exams, each lasting two half-days. So Easwaran has already taken the mathematics and physics tests and next are the chemistry, then English. He’ll be finished on next Tuesday, and get the results some time in December. It’s nerve wracking, to say the least. The signs of Eswaran’s stress are very evident. I’ve decided that I don’t like these A-Level exams. Well, it’s half over, whatever the results. They most important part of a Tamil funeral, the first eight days, has come to a close in the house behind mine. As I mention in my last letter, the guy who died was a very popular 23 year-old. Kidney failure, apparently. On the night of the eighth day, there was a huge party of young people. And I mean a party; there was music and dancing and laughter. Normally the night of the eighth day is somber, but this guy was really into hip-hop, and making music and having an all-round good time. So I think it great that the family broke with tradition and remember their beloved in a way HE would have enjoyed; with music and friends. Good for them – that’s what I want my funeral to be like. Well, I guess that’s it for now. In my next letter I’ll report on the two houses in Valachchenai, as well as the tank and fence projects. And anything else interesting that comes up.

---

---