Visit to a camp in Delhi

The highlight of my stay in India was meeting Sarah's English classes, and in particular, her conversation class.  

The camp where the conversation class takes place is in the embassy district and more or less next door to the American school.  The camp benefits from this close proximity in some ways.  The rag pickers (a generic term for people who sort through rubbish for items to recycle) have a good, wealthy source of rubbish and the school in particular, has many service projects connected to the camp.  However it would be a mistake to think that the life of the people who live there could be anything other than hard.

The camp came into being when the people who worked on building the embassies were allowed to camp on a bit of adjacent ground.  When the building work was completed, they stayed put and the area became an unofficial camp.  They live with the knowledge that they could be moved on at some point.  They have a reprieve for another year or so but don't know whether it will be extended again.

I was introduced to some of Sarah's class one morning. We sat at a table under the shade of a tree, at the edge of the camp.  I spotted lots of mongooses running around and a couple of rather large monkeys dropped down from a tree, perhaps hoping to snag one of the biscuits that Sarah had brought along with her for the class.  There is also a small classroom that was built (or funded) I believe by the American school.  It has a white board, some of those desks with the seat attached (who on earth invented those things?) and a fan.  Apart from classes, they also have a little library here at the weekend.

The day I attended the conversation class, a lovely group of young men welcomed me.  They told me all about themselves and their ambitions and in fact they were bursting at the seams with eagerness to learn English, get educated and make a better life for themselves.  All the boys I met were studying at university.  When they were not doing university studies, they spent a lot of time trying to improve their English, knowing how vitally important this was for them.  They grabbed every opportunity they could to attend any classes that would improve their abilities.

Amongst all this eagerness however, was a realisation that they simply did not have the right connections to get a job worthy of their education.  Apparently in modern day India, it is still all about having the right connections.  So these students do what they can.  They get educated, they encourage others to do the same and they become active within their community.

The man to the left has set up his own NGO, trying to place camp residents as domestic help.  The man to the right, helps and encourages his friends, going for walks and conversing with them in English to hone their skills.  These are just a couple of examples.

In between all of this, they of course also have to earn a living.  A fantastic example of this is the tall man to the rear of my right shoulder.  What a lovely gentle soul he is.  He and his brother learned how to make Samosas from their mother and then took over her business.  He took us to his home.  The spices are stored in tall jars on a shelf and on the top of a fridge, they mix up their ingredients.  Outside their home they sit on the ground and cook the samosas, making usually between 100-150 a day.  I had one of the samosas and it was delicious.

At the end of my first visit, which ended up being extended for at least another hour as we had such an interesting time talking, we were invited back again to celebrate the birthday of the man sitting next to me below.  Can you imagine, these men are scrimping and saving to educate themselves, but they bought us food and drink.  They knew I liked dosas so had bought special ones for us and Sarah's boys who also came to the party.  By the way, that is one of those delicious samosas!  All the photos in this post were taken on that day.

 Of course what is a party without dancing?

I asked if I could see around the camp having thus far only been on the edge of it and they readily agreed to show me around and though I hadn't asked or expected, we were invited into three homes within the camp and one outside.  You will understand that I did not feel it appropriate to take photos, which is why I am illustrating with party photos.

The camp was (or maybe just felt like) a maze of one person wide pathways, which wound through tiny brick houses.  The houses were all tin roofed and there were a proliferation of television aerials on show.  Though there are small open gullies running with water along the paths, there isn't any running water in the camp.  It arrives by tanker every day and is collected in buckets etc.  The water (like the electricity) is free.  There are no toilets within the camp, but a block of segregated toilets located outside.  It felt very claustrophobic as everyone was living cheek by jowl.  I think that is what I would have found the hardest (well okay, after the toilets).

Inside, the tiny houses mostly contained a bed, fridge shelving and lock boxes for valuables.  Some were painted both inside and out and were also decorated inside with photos on the walls and little shrines.  I was surprised that people had televisions and one of the men, who lived in what seemed to be a slightly bigger house, also had a washing machine.  I guess in India, nothing goes to waste and if you have the skills to repair things and a few rupees, you can buy most things.  Of course the contents and size of the houses varied, but the ones we entered were one room houses.  This is the only photo I took in the camp.  The house isn't much bigger than what you can see.  It is as wide as a bed.

I met the father of the man who lived in the above house (which he shared).  He works as a tourist mini bus driver.  He told me that his home wasn't much but he used his money to educate his children so that they would have a better life.  Humble though his home may have been, you can see how neat and tidy it is and how it has been colourfully decorated.

As I expected quite a few people were living in many of these houses.  It must be so hard to find a moment of solitude.  I understand more why people jostle up next to you wherever you are in India, it is after all how people live.

Within the camp there are also small shops and even small restaurants and places like the Samosa shop.  Before the visit I suppose I expected the place to be rather anarchic, but it wasn't.  It was orderly and surprisingly quieter than I thought it would be (unless people were out at work).  Still, trying to study must be hard.

The last house we visited was outside but adjacent to the camp, in the grounds of an embassy.  At this particular embassy, your family could stay with you in the staff quarters until they married.  At other embassies, young men aged 18 and above had to move out and make his own way.  Of course the facilities were a lot better here, though still essentially one room with I think a bathroom.  I was surprised to see a computer.  I was told that second hand computers, that would normally be past their sell by date in the west, were simply kept going (nothing ever goes to waste) and so one could obtain a computer relatively cheaply.  However, for those who attended the classes provided by the American School, they stood a chance of being nominated for an old school computer.  Imagine how wonderful that must be.

I left these young men (the girls were not in attendance when I visited but there are some who attend Sarah's class) with a mixture of hope and admiration.  I cannot tell you how much I hope their dreams come true.  Sadly I don't suppose I'll ever really know what happens to them once Sarah leaves.  I have been racking my brains to think of a way I can usefully help them.  What they want is to converse and of course the all important connection to get their feet firmly in the door, neither of which I can provide.

During the course of that afternoon, I was invited by the man whose birthday it was, to go to Agra the next day on his father's tourist bus and also to return to learn how to make Samosas.  I was sad that I couldn't take advantage of either of these offers.  I had initially gone to Sarah's class expecting that at some point, someone would as me for some money.  Instead they were giving to me.  I was asked if I could return to talk with them again, which sadly wasn't possible as it was my last but one day.  Most of these men came over to thank me for coming to visit them and showing an interest in them and to tell me how they would always remember me.  This day has become my favourite memory of India.  I was so lucky to experience it.  I know Sarah is feeling pretty devastated to be leaving these people she has grown so fond of as she and her family move on to another posting.  I could understand that as I felt pretty sad leaving them after just a couple of visits.