Report from India

At the beginning of my research trip I definitely nursed feelings of dislike for the country. This wasn't helped by my arrival in the middle of the night in Hyderabad, a huge city in Andra Pradesh, central India. The taxi drive to the hotel, all alone, made me aware of the term "culture shock". It's hard to describe all the new impressions I got during this taxi ride: the incredibly busy traffic, the poverty in the suburbs, and the masses of people everywhere - even though it was night. I felt lonely and was frightened and fascinated simultaneously. During my first days in Hyderabad these emotions continued. Against my hopes and expectations, I didn't meet any Westerners during these days. Added to this was the fact - which made things quite problematic for me - that I was often not just the only Westerner, but also the only woman far and wide. India is a very patriarchal society and male dominance is clearly observable even on the streets: a woman travelling alone is against the norm.

Despite the exhausting first days in Hyderabad, I managed to organize my onward journey - no small achievement - and I also conducted my first interview in Hyderabad. I met Lalita Rajan, the wife of Vithal Rajan, jury member of the Right Livelihood Award (RLA) and a well-known Indian feminist writer. Not only was it a fantastic opportunity to speak to her about my research, but her office also gave me some interesting information and contact details of civil society organizations in Bangalore, my next travel destination.

On my trip to Bangalore it became clear to me what my favourite activity in India would be for the rest of my research trip: going by train. When you see the chaos on Indian streets it's amazing how well organized the train system is. While travelling by train, not only do you see wonderful landscapes and a lot of water buffalos, you also have the chance to meet people - I'm convinced that going by train offers the best possibility to get in touch with local people.

Bangalore was some sort of revelation - both in good and bad terms. I observed the huge problems the country faces, but also met fascinating people who are fighting for solutions to these challenges. I conducted many interviews with members of the civil society organisations that Lalita's office had recommended to me. I met activists from environmental, health and civil-rights organizations, among them, of course, the 2006 Right Livelihood Award Laureate, Ruth Manorama.

Ruth Manorama is a born Dalit and one of India's foremost organisers of and advocates for Dalit women. Ruth mobilises the most oppressed part of the Indian population: poor women, who are oppressed due to gender, class and caste. She organises and educates these women and speaks on behalf of them through a large numbers of organisations. I met her in her small, modest office in Bangalore. After the research interview, from which I cannot give any quotes due to confidentiality reasons, we sat together and talked about the general situation of women in India and in Europe. This personal exchange was one of the most valuable experiences during my time in India. The compassion with which she talked about her cause and her deep conviction of doing the right thing and of the importance of her work were extremely inspiring.

In Bangalore I also met Dr. Sudarshan. Together with his organisation Vivekananda Girijana Kalyana Kendra (VGKK) he received the Right Livelihood Award in 1994 for his work for and with the Soliga tribals in the B.R. Hills, and "...for showing how tribal culture can contribute to a process that secures the basic rights and fundamental needs of indigenous people and conserves their environment."  Dr. Sudarshan invited me to the B.R. Hills, where I spent two days. The eventual goal of VGKK is to enable the Soliga to become self-reliant in today's India. To fulfil this goal VGKK set up health care facilities, vocational training, cooperatives and a school. The curriculum of this school covers all normal subjects but also environmental workshops and value education with a focus on encouraging tribal culture. Of course, I read about all these things in advance: but seeing the whole project with my own eyes - people who were threatened before, but whose lives have turned for the better, enabling them to live in peace and dignity - was more moving than any written report could ever be.

After Bangalore I travelled to Trivandrum, the capital of Kerala in the southernmost part of India. In Trivandrum I met Prof. Ravindran, member of Kerala Sastra Sahitya Parishad (KSSP), the people's science movement of Kerala, Recipient of the Right Livelihood Award in 1996. KSSP got the Award for its contribution to a model of development rooted in social justice and popular participation. The organisation is active in many fields: among other things it trains teachers and promotes pedagogic innovation; it carries out campaigns to raise environmental awareness; it builds up models of sustainable development, and campaigns for decentralised democracy. Furthermore, KSSP is India's largest science publisher, and was a major force behind the programme through which Kerala achieved total literacy by 1991. Nowadays, Kerala is in many aspects - like health-care and education - ahead of other Indian states.

I really enjoyed my time in Kerala. Its coasts and beautiful landscapes gave me, for the first time in India, the possibility to relax.

After leaving Kerala I travelled up north, via Goa to Panvel. Panvel is a town just one hour away from Mumbai. In Panvel I joined the General Body Meeting of Medha Patkar's National Alliance of People's Movements (NAPM). Medha Patkar received the Right Livelihood Award in 1991 together with late Baba Amte for their fight against the Narmada Valley Dam project.  The NAPM meeting was arranged to exchange experiences and, above all, to strengthen the people's movements in order to create a unified political force. On my way to Panvel I had spoken to a man in the train, an engineer. When I told him that I was going to meet Medha Patkar he was very impressed. He said everybody in India knows Medha and her struggle against the Narmada dams.

The meeting of Medha Patkar's National Allicance was impressive in several ways: there was a feeling of change and rebellion in the air, there was a lot of singing together, and joint battle calls were a part of almost every speech. The meeting took place at the Yusuf Meherally Centre and it was held outdoors. Members of the movement from across India gathered on the floor and listened to speeches on stage. Whenever speeches were made in Hindi, they were translated to English and vice versa. The local groups sat together and had their own translator. Medha Patkar's speech about fights, successes and the future of people's movements made a great impression and it became clear even to me as a foreign visitor that she definitely is a role model for many people.

After Panvel I continued to Mumbai. The plan was to go on to Ahmedabad and Delhi - but my body had different plans. On the way from Kerala to Panvel I fell ill. After a long time without any problems - stomach or otherwise - I suddenly got high fever during the nights and felt very ill during the daytime. I visited hospitals in Goa and Mumbai, which in some ways was an experience in itself. To shout one's symptoms to the doctor across a big table while being surrounded by about 30 curious Indians is, to say the least, interesting. At the first hospital, in Goa, I received only paracetamol, but the doctor in Mumbai proved to be more ambitious, prescribing seven different drugs to take at the same time. However, the fever continued. I began to feel quite weak, and that's why the only reasonable decision was to return home earlier than planned - a decision which was a very difficult one for me to make, as I had set my heart on completing my itinerary. But, as events later proved, it may have been one of the best decisions I've made so far. Shortly after my return, disastrous attacks wreaked havoc in Mumbai's city centre, leaving more than 100 people dead, some of them tourists.

Strangely enough, once I made the decision to leave India, I noticed a change within myself which must have gradually taken place during my journey. At the outset of my trip I can honestly say I would have welcomed any illness forcing me to go home - to leave this chaotic, exhausting, and seemingly hostile country. But now, when I had to go, I was crying.. What had brought about such a change of heart? Actually, I'm not sure, though one important aspect is that I met wonderful people along the way. Above all, one girl who travelled with me and was with me during my illness, and with whom I was able to share my experiences. For me there seem to be two Indias: The India you travel through alone and the India you travel through together with other people. When you are alone making your way across the country as a single woman, you really feel handicapped by the restriction of your freedom. But if you are together with other people, most of those feelings disappear and you can share your observations and joke about the mishaps.

I think I have just started my love affair with India - the country itself and its people. Every negative experience was well compensated for by positive ones, even if it was only a small gesture such as a warm and friendly smile or an inspiring conversation on the train And, surprisingly, I also began to love the chaos - the feeling that everything is possible in India, as chaos also creates opportunities! India is a country filled with contrasts. White, shiny beautiful people on banner ads and in front of them dark-skinned rickshaw drivers and street vendors; expensive shops from Benetton to Adidas and in front of them naked, begging children; Western fast food restaurants and between them temples and mosques; a rural village in the middle of nowhere and in its centre a Vodafone shop.

I began my trip with the aim to find out what motivates and enables individuals to try to change society. Certainly, everybody has different driving forces, everybody makes different experiences in life which lead to social and political activism. But what unifies all these people I spoke with is the strong belief that change, however slowly, is indeed possible and that they can be a part of it. And this conviction is a major motivation to always continue the struggle.

Along the way I met people who are fighting for change against all obstacles. India may face huge problems but it is blessed with strong and committed activists who uphold the principles of "right livelihood".