Back to Bangalore

It was very embarrassing!

When I went back to Bangalore, just four months ago in November, they surprised me at the Children's Day celebrations by presenting me with flowers, garlands and an engraved plaque. It was all very embarrassing, but it made me reflect on how a small contribution can make a significant impact, and it is most gratifying now, to start to see that we are making an impact.

In less than a month, I shall be back in Bangalore, working on various new projects that create educational opportunities for children living in poverty.

I love doing what I do and find it hugely rewarding to be able to channel the generosity of friends in Lincoln into providing a good education for children who live in the squalor and deprivation of the slum districts of Bangalore.

So, why do I do what I do in England?

A prospective pupil for Building Blocks 

It all started when I was in India two years ago and saw the Building Blocks pre-school projects set up in the slum districts of Bangalore.
I asked James Ambat, the project's founder if I could set up a fund-raising operation in the UK. He readily agreed, and it then took me12 months to establish  "Escape from Poverty" and gain charitable status so that I could recover tax on donations.

We now have a dozen children who receive educational funding through Escape from Poverty, and James and I are working on proposals to double the size of the operation over the next three years.

What is different about Escape from Poverty?

Our students are ambitious

Some charities work in response to critical situations, like relief from floods and famines, while other charities work to resolve on-going challenges, like disabilities and medical research. Escape from Poverty has a different kind of objective. 

In conjunction with our colleagues in Bangalore, our purpose is very much focused on achieving long-term, sustainable results, taking children from subsistence to success, and choosing a career rather than just taking whatever work they can find.

We want our children to have big ambitions, and if we were to concentrate simply on basic numeracy, these children would end up in menial employment as pedlars, street vendors and day-labourers. 

After three years with Building Blocks, our pupils are numerate, they know their times-tables, and they are basically literate both in Kannada - the local vernacular - and in English. This qualifies them for a place in a good school because much of secondary education in India is taught in the English language, so a good working knowledge of English is essential for academic progress.

Why don't Indian people look after their own?

Oh, but they do! 

In Hindu, Muslim and Sikh communities philanthropy is central to social behaviour. I saw this from Muslim colleagues when I was working with refugees in Athens when Muslim colleagues could raise hundreds of euros for refugees with one simple email to their mosque back in Britain. 

The British Sikh community is another humanitarian example, feeding thousands of homeless people from street kitchens in British cities. (Guru Nanak's Free Kitchen.)  

For many modern Indian Hindus and Christians, the achievement of wealthy status comes with an expectation to support those less fortunate. Furthermore, this is encouraged by tax incentives and legislation that directs all businesses to donate a portion of their profits to charitable causes. 

The Building Blocks pre-schools are mainly funded by local companies or individuals, and most of the sponsorship for Building Blocks' children's ongoing education comes from Indian individuals or families, some locally based, and some who are NRI (non-resident Indians) living in America or Europe.

What have we achieved in our first 12 months?

After less than 12 months in operation, "Escape from Poverty," now supports a dozen children who have moved at the tender age of just 6 years-old from Building Blocks to their English-medium primary/secondary schools. Here a video made to introduce the latest pupil to be sponsored by a group of people in Lincoln, England.

Not everyone can fund a 10-year scholarship to secure a child's future, but everyone can be part of this project. You can donate towards crowd-funding scholarships for children who will start their new schools in June, with VISA or Mastercard.

Perhaps you have a group of friends who would like to pitch in together to fund a child's future. We already have three children who are supported by a school in Devon, and we provide marketing support with leaflets and videos. A year's support with subsidised school fees and after-school coaching and mentoring costs less than £1 per day.  

This is a chance for you to be part of making a real change to the lives of some great kids who deserve this opportunity and have proved that education and serious study can be their Escape from Poverty.

Click on this link to support a crowd-funded scholarship

A Widow and her Three Daughters

Sometimes my work brings tears to my eyes.

Today I have been working on a document (reprinted below) which has gone out to a group in America whom we have worked with in the past. When I read the information they sent me, I just wanted to reach for my cheque-book, but to do so would have deprived an American group of the opportunity to be part of the answer.

And that readers, is what true charity is all about . . . it's the opportunity to be part of the answer.

If you would like to contribute to the Escape From Poverty Scholarship Fund, you can do so with VISA or Mastercard through this link or through the link at the foot of this post.

Do you know someone who might help?

I am writing to you about a family of three young women and their mother, whom we would like to help, and for whom we are seeking financial support

The family members

Sabamma is the mother of three beautiful girls. The eldest girl is Ayyamma (17) Her sister is Basalingama (16), and the youngest is Renuka (12.) They originally came from Gulbarga district, an interior village in the rural part North Karnataka.  The head of the family, Marilingappa, passed away due to health issues when the girls were still young, and the family has always had financial challenges.

Family History

As a single mother, Sabamma has had to take on the responsibility of bringing up her three children. She is not an educated woman, and moved to Bangalore in 2007, with her three small children in the hope of finding a livelihood for the family. They settled in the Gulbarga Roopena Agrahara slum in Bangalore, and as the only breadwinner of the family, she has had a tough life, facing hardships and a constant struggle to make ends meet. In the past eleven years, she has worked as a coolie (general labourer,) housemaid and various other jobs. As the children grew up, she knew that they needed to be educated.

Building Blocks Initial Involvement

In 2009, the Building Blocks social workers came into contact with this family during one of their regular visits to the slum. We acknowledged their situation and were glad to support the education of the youngest girl, Renuka, who successfully completed the initial 3-year syllabus at Bluebells Learning Centre.

Thanks to the encouragement and support of her widowed mother, Renuka fared extremely well in her studies and on graduating from Bluebells she was funded through our Project Plus Ten programme to continue her education in Reddy Janasanga English-medium school for the next 4 years.

A Foster Home for the Youngest Daughter

The slums are a dangerous environment for young girls growing up and a couple of years ago, when Renuka was 10 years old we placed her in a good foster home run by Dream India Network at Hennur Bande, Bangalore. From this safe and caring environment, she has continued her education at Yuvalock School and is presently in class 6.

Support from the Netherlands

We gratefully acknowledge and appreciate the constant financial support of Renuka’s wonderful sponsor, who is a private individual living in Amsterdam, in the Netherlands. He has funded Renuka’s educational expenses from the beginning, through Building Blocks, and continues to follow her growth and educational achievements, year on year. She is developing into a fine young woman, building on the secure start that she had in the Building Blocks system

Help for the older Siblings

Ayyamma is the eldest (17) and is currently in class 12 (2^nd P.U.C). She is a commerce student at Government College, Bangalore. Thanks to the encouragement and support of her mother, she has reached this stage of her education despite her tough background. She is a straightforward, mature, efficient, hardworking and responsible girl.  She seems to be very good at her academic studies and is gifted in Singing, Dance, and Creative Writing. She is very good at the Kannada language. Ayyamma has a passion for education and a deep desire to be a teacher in the future. Her own background has given her a heart for the needs of others, and she strives to serve underprivileged children, starting from her own village. Being aware of the family background and circumstances, we want to uphold her dream for a meaningful and positive future and are now looking for people who will provide the financial support to secure Ayyamma’s future.

Baslingama (16) is the middle sister of the family, who is studying in class 10 in Vidya Jyothi Kannada-medium School. Baslingama has a dream of becoming an engineer and is doing well in both curricular and co-curricular activities.  We have great admiration for her mother, Sabamma, the simple and determined woman who has encouraged and supported her second daughter throughout her education.

The Cost of Support

We are looking for financial support to secure the ongoing education of both Ayyamma and Baslingama. We would like them to be able to focus on their studies and not have constant financial worries. A realistic scholarship to support each of them would be as set out below, and a little extra above these figures would go a long way.

Ayyamma is studying in a Government school for the next three years, and a scholarship of US$ 200 per year would cover her fees, transport and a little bit extra and a little extra.

Baslingama is in school, and will be studying in a college for the next 5 years and needs US$ 500 per year to cover her basic fees and transport. Again, a little bit extra would make a big difference

These funds would be administered through Family Development Services (the charity that controls all the Building Blocks projects) and would be fully audited and controlled by our management.

We are writing to ask if you will forward this proposition to groups or individuals who are in a position to consider this as a truly worthwhile and deserving project.

We greatly appreciate your support for all our work and assure you that this funding will reward and maintain the children of a widow who has constantly sought the best for her three children. 

Renuka - A girl from the slums
Her life has been changed by Building Blocks
and the generosity of an individual in the Netherlands

Please support our work with kids from the slums of Bangalore

Teaching, Training - and Educating

The 3 R's

Learning to read, count and write

A man has always been able to sell his physical labour without needing any education. However, workers were far more use in the industrial revolution if they could at least read and write. Consequently, in the beginning of the Victorian era, there was an emphasis on the importance of the 3 R's - Reading, wRiting and 'Rithmetic. With these basic skills, a person could work in a factory from a very early age, and fuel the economic machine that fed the Establishment.

Training a low-cost work-force 

The spread of imperialism and colonialism was largely responsible for the global spread of education. The motive was to create a workforce which could generate wealth for the foreign powers and, as in Europe, there was no incentive to educate children more than was necessary for their economic employability.

Back in the U.K., the function of schooling was divided into two basic models. On the one hand there was the teaching of skills with a market value, (absurdly referred to, even today, as "vocational training.") On the other hand there was broader education which included subjects that were mainly of pure academic value, such as Latin and Greek, History and Literature.
Since the Thatcher era, education in Britain has moved steadily away from academic pursuits and towards saleable skills. Languages, Literature and the Arts in general, have been neglected as Britain continues a decline towards a dumbed-down population who could be trained to produce "stuff," and then paid to consume it.

"Just sit still and pay attention!"

Much of the curriculum of the 20th century could be taught by rote, in what came to be called "Chalk and Talk." The teacher stood in front of the class; wrote with chalk on the board, and talked about what he had written, using a pointed stick to emphasise what he was saying. It was very much a one-way communication: teacher talked and the pupils listened, and it was up to the pupils to pay attention and try to understand what the lesson was all about.

Pupils were treated as passive receptacles with sponge-like brains that would absorb whatever information was trickled into them. This information would be memorised because it would need to be accessible and retrievable when the time came for examinations. 

Students in India taking an examination which might decide their future

All around the world, the primary measure of employability is certification based on examination results which means that schooling becomes a process of learning how to repeat what you have learned - not how to analyse and evaluate.

Stretching their minds 

Small classes encourage enthusiastic learning

At Building Blocks pre-schools, we have to balance our curriculum between stimulating creative thinking and reaching bench-mark standards to ensure a smooth progression to the Grade-school system that will teach our children up to age 16. 




After three years at a Building Blocks pre-school students progress to an English-teaching medium school with a scholarship that not only subsidizes their school fees but also gives them an intensive after-school programme.

An Inspiring Trip to the International Airport

A special visit to the International Airport

There are also extra-mural activities like this educational trip to the International Airport.













On this excursion to Bangalore International Airport, they learned things that they would never learn in the classroom, and it opened their eyes to opportunities they had never dreamt of.




In one afternoon, they came to realise that what matters is where you want to go to, and not where you are coming from.

- and what better thought at the end of the day than choosing where you want to go in your life!

In a couple of months' time, the next year-set will graduate from Building Blocks and we are still looking to fund another 61 scholarships to give our kids from the slums an education that will change their lives forever. 

All donations are most gratefully received

https://mydonate.bt.com/events/escape-from-poverty

The Sound of Silence

For the past week, I have been more or less living like a hermit. I wanted to take the opportunity to live in silence except for the daily services and keep any kind of conversation to the absolute minimum. 

It would be easier if one were not permanently aware of the presence of the large group from France, or if they only understood the value of silence, but groups on vacations don't like to be told what they can and cannot do. There are one or two individuals in particular who seem incapable of eliminating hushed conversations, and whispers are a deafening soundtrack to someone who is trying to observe silence. 

When I relax into my old friend, to quote Simon & Garfunkel, the aural background soon ceases to distract me. If I focus my ears, I rapidly become aware of just how much is going on beyond the tap-tapping of my laptop keyboard.There is a distant rumble of traffic on the main road that runs a few hundred yards away. Closer to hand is the chop of a gardener's mattock breaking up the soil and the garble of his occasional exchange, in the Tamil language, with a colleague working nearby. More voices float over in the wind from residents of the nearby village and I hear the cowherd ushering his sacred charges along the track.

The birds are noisy, and there are calls that range from familiar to exotic. There are half a dozen peacocks, who strut around and let out a screeching catcall, competing with the familiar caws of scruffy black crows. 

My hut is surrounded by banana trees, with huge leaves that are up to five or six feet in length, and I am occasionally distracted by a flash of purple or emerald, as a multi-coloured butterfly floats silently by.

But silence is not always an inviting space to visit, as anyone who suffers from bouts of depression will be quick to remind you. I am not generally moody, but this retreat has given me a reminder of issues that I have tried to shelve or ignore through the past months. The gift of silence is that the mind invites you to revisit and explore, but our culture does not encourage such enforced pauses in the routine of modern life. 

There are pluses and minuses in taking excursions through experiences that have left scars on memories of 2017, but I wanted to wipe the slate clean before the end of the year. 

War-babies, all of us

My generation were war-babies and baby-boomers, and we are all now into our fourth quartile and want these remaining years to build happy memories, not let bad experiences fester and create a lingering sadness.

With these thoughts in mind, my silence here at the ashram has led me to a couple of New Year Resolutions. 

• The past has happened: Regrets and resentment only hurt the one who holds them.
• Healing is all about Forgiveness, - and forgiveness is all about Love.

It's all so darned obvious, and all so darned difficult. But time and the sound of silence are great healers.

- and don't take everything too seriously.

My Last Christmas at the Ashram

You will probably have surmised from my last blog-post that this stay at the Ashram is proving to be an opportunity for soul-searching. Which is fine, because the big benefit of any kind of retreat is just that: a chance to take a step back and re-evaluate one's life and plot the way forward.

My initial reaction on arriving was to give a huge sigh of relief at escaping the material consumerism of December back in the U.K. - or anywhere else around the globe, for that matter. My hut in the banana grove is simple and adequate; the food is South Indian vegetarian, which suits me perfectly, and the monastic programme is optional, but gives me a chance to enjoy meditation and liturgy. There were just four or five of us guests when I arrived; enough for conversation if I wanted to chat, and not too many for solitude if I chose to withdraw.

- and then there were 40 of us at mealtimes

Then others arrived for the Christmas season, two large French parties,  and several new faces from elsewhere in Europe. Some I recognised from previous visits, and it was heart-warming to meet up with people who had been here a couple of years ago when I became an oblate of Shantivanam. 

But such an influx has a dramatic effect on the rhythm and balance of the establishment, and I found that I had to work harder to maintain the sense of peace and isolation which I wanted. 

I did not enjoy the tour-group holiday spirit, and have become a bit of a recluse. 

Every afternoon during the week, Brother Martin gives a talk on almost any aspect of theology, and the other day his theme was the meaning of Christmas. Ever since I went to work cooking for refugees and migrants in Athens 18 months ago, I have followed various related organisations on Facebook, together with local organisations operating in my home-town. As Christmas approached, the stories of hunger, deprivation and homelessness have proliferated, in harsh contrast to the promotion of luxury gifts and extravagant celebrations in all the media. People back in Lincoln were lonely, cold and hungry, and some were sleeping in the open.  According to the most recent Government statistics in Birmingham alone, more than 9,000 will wake up on Christmas Day in tents, cars, trains and buses and on the streets.

Well, it doesn't add up, and as our new ashram guests started rehearsing for a jolly Christmas Eve celebration, I realised I was in the wrong place, and I won't come back here again for Christmas. 

I know that I can make a difference to the Christmas of people less fortunate, and that gives me great pleasure. I don't need the church on December 25th to make it my Christmas Day. I am in the happy position of having 30-odd services being celebrated each week at Lincoln Cathedral, across the road from my apartment. I can enjoy those that attract a smaller congregation if I want a more monastic atmosphere, or I can relish the magnificent choral worship on High Days and holy-days.

I shall still come to Shantivanam every year, for as long as I am able. What draws me to the Benedictine community is precisely the reason why I will have a different kind of Christmas in the future. It's all about other people.

A friend who works with refugees in Greece wrote a simple poem to the meter of Away in a Manger. It's an uncomplicated message, and it's painfully relevant on December 24th.

Away in a kids’ tent

No chance of a bed,

Ten thousand cold people

With fear in their head.

 

The scars from the journey

Show words they can't say,

The grown-ups and war childs

Forced in hell to stay.

 

I see you, new neighbours,

And retch in despair

That though there’s warm places

The suits keep you there.

 

The snow is now falling

Clothes, food, - they are scarce,

The stars say go westward

But the law is a farce.

 

Please now, friends and neighbours,

Do something to act,

There’s people who need you

To keep life intact.

Lincoln Cathedral

December at the Ashram

The path between the huts

The ashram is quiet and peaceful, with both familiar faces and new guests. All are looking for the serene calm they have experienced on a previous visit, or have read about, and are searching for.

On my verandah

I've been here a week, and it’s not been quite what I expected. It’s not that the ashram has changed; it’s because this past year has had a big effect on me, and I am now in a space where I can reflect on the events of the year. 

I arrived at high speed because life has been like that for months. There had been no let-up of pressure of work in Bangalore: quite the reverse, in fact, as James Ambat had tossed over proposals that needed editing, and pitches that needed drafting, together with copy-writing that needed creating – and even a short autobiography that needed ghosting. 

Some days, my total exercise had been to come out of my room and descend a single flight of stairs to the dining area for the daily ritual of chicken curry, which is the mainstay of the Ambat residence. (I am mainly carnivorous at home, but I shall never understand the addiction to meat, here in India, - a country where the range of vegetable dishes is so extensive, varied, and delicious.)

I put myself under continuing pressure after arriving at the ashram in the wee, small hours of Sunday morning, by immediately writing the previous blog-post and then catching up with friends and family. 

Ongoing education for these children from the slums of Bangalore,
 - all funded through my charity "Escape from Poverty."

Then I started cataloguing my photos of the previous month and working on redesigned paperwork to cope with the nine pupils whose scholarships Escape from Poverty has so far raised. With a target of another dozen scholarships to be sourced within the next 4-6 months, I must have good paperwork in place, and it sends me into mild panics just thinking about it. I am now wondering whether Jeanette, my volunteer helper back in Lincoln, has had any luck sourcing a volunteer who can control and administer a system of documentation.  

And then my body caught up with me sometime on Saturday, with all the certainty of a sand-dune bringing a runaway car to a decisive stand-still. There was no crash, no physical breakdown, and no metaphorical air-bags ballooning out to save my life. The physical symptoms were neither dramatic nor violent; no raging temperature or nausea, and no shivering or dizziness. There was just a painfully clear, still, small voice in the tone of nanny being sensible with an over-excited little boy. “Why don’t you have a lie down? You’ll feel so much better.    

Since then I have tried to approach each day with renewed optimism, telling myself I felt much better and that it was probably the change of water affecting my gut, and sending me hurrying to the en-suite, but each day the symptoms reappeared, and the invisible nanny tucked me up mid-morning or afternoon, with soothing words of nothing to worry about and assuring me that all I needed was a good rest, because I had been overdoing things. I tried to argue that I have always been overdoing things, only to receive the unwelcome rebuff, that I am not as young as I used to be.

I have never believed in coincidences, and have always believed that everything happens for a reason. I think I was being strongly encouraged to look at the issues that have been worrying me, especially the arguments that have caused so much pain. It was time to take a critical look at my role in all of this, and accept some responsibility for the events, and accept that to a significant extent, I had brought all of this upon myself. I doubt if I would ever have thought about this if I had not come away to the peace and solitude of my hut in the banana grove, and I shall always be grateful that I discovered the Saccinananda ashram at Shantivanam, three years ago.

There is no compulsion to be involved in any of the services here, but I find it worthwhile to attend at least midday prayer and evening prayer. Sometimes I go to the early morning prayers and Eucharist, but I have never been a great enthusiast of daily Mass, as I think that such a practice detracts from the underlying message of that liturgy, - but that could be a whole book, and I am not going to go there today!

Brother John Martin

Breakfast follows the morning service, then guests are expected to help prepare vegetables as a practical contribution to the life of the ashram. It's just like old times in the kitchens of my restaurants, but I do wish I had remembered to pack my sharp chef's knife and a flat, level chopping board. 

Some people gather for a gossip over morning coffee later, and in the afternoon Brother John Martin, the theologian president of the community, hosts a talk and discussion, which is always interesting, and often controversial.

A corner of my "garden."

As I while away my time, I am reminded of a quip that my father used to love to tell, about the elderly Yorkshireman, who was asked how he passed his time. 

His answer is perfect:

“Well, sometimes I sits and thinks, and then sometimes, I just sits.”

Me too. Here, at the ashram, 

...sometimes I just sits.

For more information on my charity, go to:  

http://escapefrompoverty.org.uk

Home for the next month

Even the dust smells clean

I wasn't looking forward to Bangalore Railway Station. The big stations are crowded and confusing, with high bridges to climb up to move from one platform to another. 

Indian Railways 2AC

Then, almost by accident, I showed James my itinerary and he noticed that my train would be stopping in the suburbs, less than half an hour from his house. 

His driver, Jeevan, loaded me up in plenty of time and we crawled through the traffic but still arrived in plenty of time for the scheduled departure, and in even better for the anticipated delayed departure - 35 minutes late. 

Indian railway platforms are l-o-o-o-ng, and since the timetable allowed only 60 seconds for the stop in this suburban village, I made sure to ascertain roughly where my carriage would be stopping and settled down for the second most frequent activity of life in India, - which is WAITING.  

I was travelling in 2AC - 2-tier air-conditioned sleeper and the ticket for my 6-7 hour journey had cost me £10.80. My Senior age status assigned me a lower bunk, which I appreciated rather than trying to climb the metal ladder and then fall off the shelf.

Not visible night-times

I slept intermittently, worrying about where the train was, since there were no announcements, and few signs station platforms to give any indication of how far the train had travelled. Fortunately, a railway attendant stirred from his bunk to tell me I had one more stop to travel - so perhaps I should have trusted all along that 35 minutes late out of Bangalore would actually mean 35 minutes late into my destination.

What it lacks in amenities, Kulitalai makes up for with the length of the platform. Not that I needed to worry about the long walk as a smiling face of the ashram's driver was hurrying towards me to seize my bags and lead me off to the car. 

By 3.30 I was in bed and fast asleep - and I slept for more than 7 hours.

Still no signs -  to tell me where I was - and a distinct lack of Costa Coffee

When I awoke, the first thing that struck me was the clean, fresh air after the pollution of Bangalore (and -worse still - Mumbai.) My lungs had forgotten the taste of the country air, and I swallowed and savoured it like a parched desert traveller gulping water. When we pulled into the familiar driveway to the ashram and I could easily have rolled out of the car and curled up on the dust - because even the dust smelled clean and fragrant. 

Home until the New Year

I staggered to my hut and lay down under the mosquito net. I then slept solidly for seven hours.

When I woke, I sorted the room out to the way I liked it and after an hour or so, feeling showered, clean and refreshed, I wandered down the path to the monastery chapel or ashram temple -  whichever you prefer to call it.

The birds were chirping, and there was a faint breeze rustling the banana leaves. I kicked off my sandals outside the doorway and went barefoot to my seat in the empty space. It would be an hour until the midday Prayers, and I enjoyed the silence, the peace and the opportunity to reflect on the past month and on the challenges ahead. The deep contentment is blissful.