Air Pollution in Kolkata

I arrived in Kolkata just an hour ago and am now at Durbar’s office. In this short time, my cream-colored T-shirt has almost turned black—it’s incredibly polluted here. There’s smoke everywhere, and it seems that Bengali people favor dark colors; the taxis are dark yellow, buses are dark green, and the buildings look quite old. Oh, and they even have trams! This city is definitely not what I expected, but it seems like it’s going to be an interesting experience.

The people at Durbar have been very welcoming. They’ve informed me that the conference starts tomorrow, so today is a day off for me. I’m thinking of exploring some tourist spots while I have the chance. I forgot to bring the data cable for my camera, so I’ll upload pictures once I get back home.

Sewage in Ganga River

India TV News Channel hosts a competition called “Video of the Day,” where participants are encouraged to submit videos on various topics. Each day, a winner is selected, and the prize is a color TV. I entered the competition with a video highlighting the issue of sewage discharge into the Ganga River in Varanasi. To my delight, my video was chosen as the Video of the Day, and I won the TV. While I was thrilled to win, the process was more complicated than I had anticipated. I had to pay a 25% tax on the prize and make phone calls that cost nearly a thousand rupees. Additionally, there was a lengthy wait of six months before I finally received the television.

I even had to travel to Lucknow to collect the TV and bring it back to Varanasi by bus. I chose the bus over the train because I was wary of potential encounters with the police. In trains and at railway stations, the police are known for seeking bribes, especially if they spot someone traveling with something new or valuable. I wanted to avoid sharing my joy with those who might dampen it. I made this video with Lane two years ago when he was in India. We visited the sewage discharge point in Nagwa and used his small camera to film the footage. I wish we had a better camera for the project.

Photo documentary on Ganga

Nadia left Varanasi on the 20th. She stayed at my place for a month while working on her photo documentary titled *Child of Ganga*. During her time here, we explored various locations along the river together. We visited several sewage discharge points, and it was a remarkable experience to accompany Nadia on her journey. I thoroughly enjoyed our time and learned a great deal about the different areas where sewage is directly discharged into the river.

Nadia initially expected to complete her research in a month, but she found that this was hardly sufficient. As people often say, even a lifetime might not be enough to fully understand Varanasi. She plans to return next year to continue her research. Her documentary is scheduled to be shown at the university in March 2009, and I am eagerly looking forward to it. When I asked Nadia if she would acknowledge my contribution in her documentary, she assured me that if she doesn’t, she could be sued.

In addition to the documentary, Nadia is also writing a book, and I hope to see my name mentioned in it. Nadia’s approach seems unique compared to other researchers who visit Varanasi. Typically, foreign researchers are unaware of events that occur only once or twice a year, such as the pilgrimage where people visit major temples in Varanasi and, contrary to expectations, end up drinking sewage water instead of the intended sacred water from where the river Varun merges with the Ganga. In reality, the Varun is essentially sewage.

We had hoped to witness this event, but Nadia had to leave before it occurred. I am very excited about the book she is writing and regret not having more time to discuss her reflections on spending a month in Varanasi, as she was often busy. I look forward to seeing her again in the future and assisting with her research.

Bakrid 2008

Every day, I witness something that nobody would ever want to see: blood and meat strewn everywhere in my city. During a Muslim festival called Bakrid, each Muslim family is expected to slaughter a male goat, and sometimes they buy one for every member of the family. After slaughtering the animals, they discard the waste on the roads. It usually takes the municipality four to five days to clean up the mess. There’s a show on Discovery Channel called *Dirty Jobs*, and while I’ve watched it occasionally, I can tell you that the tasks they feature are nothing compared to what our municipal workers endure.

For these four or five days, animal waste remains on the streets, and people generally avoid the Muslim neighborhoods during this period. I had witnessed this about ten years ago and was reluctant to return, but this year I decided to revisit it with Nadia, a researcher from Singapore. Initially, we planned to walk, but we soon opted for a rickshaw because the sight was overwhelming. Goat skins, meat, and other waste covered the streets, and I was astonished to see people standing around and conversing as if it were a normal part of their routine.

We rode through all the major Muslim neighborhoods in Varanasi, and everywhere we went, we saw the same scene: meat, goat skins, and blood. I even saw someone riding a camel through one of the neighborhoods. When I asked some locals, they informed me that the camel was going to be slaughtered as well. Wealthy individuals sometimes slaughter camels to display their affluence, and the number of camels slaughtered is reported in the news each year. I read that ten camels were slaughtered in Varanasi alone this year.

I’m unsure how to address this issue or whom to hold accountable, but it’s clear that maintaining sanitation is a shared responsibility. Disposing of animal waste on the streets is unsanitary, spreads disease, and is visually repulsive. There’s nothing worse than being surrounded by discarded meat. Nadia, who is also Muslim, was shocked by what she saw. In Singapore, such practices are completely hidden from view. People there contribute money to mosques for slaughtering, which is done discreetly.

Nadia remarked that this method in Singapore—paying for the slaughter to be done on one’s behalf—seems far superior to what we experience here. After witnessing the heaps of meat, she felt ill, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat that day. Nonetheless, it was an eye-opening experience for both of us. Despite the common belief that selling meat is prohibited in Varanasi, the reality is that meat is ubiquitous: in shops, kitchens, and sometimes even on the streets.

Photo documentary about Ganga

A student from Singapore is staying with me. She contacted me through Couchsurfing, initially just to meet up. However, when I discovered she was conducting research on the Ganga, I asked if she would be interested in staying at my place as a paying guest. She was also looking for a homestay, so she agreed to rent my apartment. She is working on a photo documentary titled “Son of Ganga,” which explores the relationship between the people and the Ganga in Varanasi. Although she started this research as a personal project inspired by her father, her school became involved once she informed them and requested time off.

She wanted to collaborate with the Sankat Mochan Foundation for her research. She reached out to them about twenty days ago but has yet to receive a response. I’ve had many conversations with her about the pollution in the Ganga. I took her to a spot where untreated sewage is discharged directly into the river. She was stunned by the volume of waste and said she had no idea the Ganga was so polluted. When I told her there were over ten such discharge points in Varanasi alone, she was incredulous. I also showed her another sewage discharge point near Shivala Ghat and Assi Ghat.

The Assi Ghat drain has a rather ironic story. The government spent a significant amount of money diverting the drain to mix with the Nagwa drain to make the discharge less visible. Yet, the Assi Ghat drain has started up again, discharging untreated sewage directly into the Ganga. It’s baffling why such a large sum was spent merely to obscure the problem rather than investing in a proper treatment plant. There is another river in Varanasi called the Varuna, which has essentially become a large drain. Locals refer to it as “Varuna Nala,” with ‘nala’ meaning drain in Hindi.

I only recently learned that Varuna River and Varuna Nala are the same thing. A religious walk called Antargrih starts at Manikarnika Ghat and covers all of Varanasi. One segment of this walk involves walking along the Varuna River and performing rituals where it merges with the Ganga. The Varuna River flows through areas with numerous Muslim neighborhoods and slaughterhouses. Waste from over ten to fifteen slaughterhouses is dumped directly into the river, along with substantial amounts of sewage. The river is so notorious for its filth that it has become a preferred spot for criminals to dispose of bodies.

It’s not uncommon to find human remains in the river, which eventually mix with the Ganga after several kilometers. This walk is scheduled for later this month, and Nadia and I have decided to participate. I’ve heard that people drink water from the Varuna where it merges with the Ganga. Despite walking along the river, witnessing all the waste, both animal and human, and observing the immense sewage discharge, they still drink this water purely for religious reasons. I can’t fully imagine what we will encounter, but I’m excited for the experience.

Flood in Bihar 2008

The situation in Bihar is now dire and completely out of control. Over 4 million people have been affected by the floods, and the Indian government seems to be doing nothing to address the crisis. I have witnessed scenes of immense suffering: people fighting for food, crying, and the carcasses of animals scattered around. The scale of the devastation is unlike anything I have ever seen. The affected people are without food, shelter, and medicine, and there is no adequate relief effort in sight. Experts estimate that it will take at least 4 to 5 months for the situation to stabilize, followed by a likely surge in diseases and poverty.

In one relief camp, I saw a chaotic scene where more than 50 people fought over a single packet of roasted garbanzo. In the end, no one managed to get any of it; the packet burst open, and the garbanzo scattered on the ground. People walked over it and some tried to collect as much as they could, hoping it might help them survive. When government officials brought a packet of food, hundreds were already waiting, making the relief effort seem inadequate and poorly managed. One particularly heartbreaking sight was a family who had to drown their cow in the floodwaters because they could no longer afford to feed it.

In a deeply emotional and traditional ceremony, they decorated the cow, performed a puja, and then released it into the floodwaters where it quickly drowned. The family wept and voiced their anger at the government for their plight. Meanwhile, the Indian government is investing heavily in projects like the Delhi Metro, preparing for the Commonwealth Games 2010, and constructing new stadiums and roads. While these are significant investments, they seem misplaced when compared to the urgent need to address the crisis in Bihar. It feels as though the government is prioritizing showy projects over the immediate need to provide resources and save lives.

The funds would be better spent on providing relief and support to the millions suffering in Bihar rather than on extravagant projects that do not address the pressing issues faced by those in need.

Interview with Musahars in the village

During my time working for the Financial Times in Varanasi, I had the opportunity to spend time with the Musahar community, a group still considered untouchable in Indian society. Traditionally, Musahars are known for collecting and making bowls from Pipal leaves, a craft that has become increasingly obsolete as plastic bowls have replaced their traditional products. We visited a Mushahar village near Mehndiganj, Varanasi. The village consisted of simple clay huts, and the interviewee was a 24-year-old married woman whose husband worked as a rickshaw driver.

The family of six included her husband, father-in-law, mother-in-law, and two daughters. Despite their dire economic situation, none of their daughters attended school. Her husband earned only Rs. 25 (50 cents USD) per day, and due to their caste, no one in the local community wanted to ride in his rickshaw. During the harvest season, Mushahars get some temporary work cutting grains on other people’s land. Ironically, while they cut and handle the grains that others eat, they are not allowed to sit on the same rickshaw or access the same resources due to their caste.

Their payment for this labor is often in the form of grains rather than cash. They typically receive around 150 kgs of grains per year, valued at Rs. 2000 ($50), which is not enough to sustain a family. The traditional occupation of making leaf bowls has lost its significance due to the widespread use of plastic, further impacting the Mushahar community’s income. Although this practice persists in smaller towns, cities like Varanasi are slowly abandoning it. During the interview, the interviewer was shocked by the family’s meager income and gave Rs. 500 to the interviewee as a gesture of empathy.

The local guide suggested distributing the money among the villagers. However, this led to a heated argument among the community members. The interviewee insisted on keeping the initial Rs. 500 for herself, while the villagers argued that it should be shared. The situation escalated into a conflict, and we had to leave quickly to avoid further violence. The village had only a hand pump and a well for water, both of which often dried up during the summer. Being near a Coca-Cola plant, they faced significant water scarcity issues. The local people, aware of their caste, would not allow them to use their water resources. As a result, the women of the Mushahar community, who are responsible for fetching water, had to walk 2-3 kilometers daily to get water.

When we arrived, the villagers brought out a Khatia (a rope bed) for us to sit on. However, when they asked about my caste and learned that I am a Brahmin, they refused to sit with me due to the caste differences.

India-America nuclear deal

The India-U.S. nuclear deal is big news here. While I don’t fully understand the details of the deal, it’s frequently covered in the media. I wanted to learn more about how nuclear power works, and I had the perfect opportunity to do so with Stephan, a Swiss electrical engineer who was staying at my guest house. He explained that Switzerland has nuclear power stations, but they produce significant amounts of waste, and there’s no complete solution for disposal. Switzerland either buries the waste in mountains or dumps it in the ocean, which seems problematic.

The Indian government is working hard to secure uranium from the U.S. to build nuclear power stations in India. They faced major challenges when proposing this deal. Their supporting parties withdrew their backing, putting the government at risk of falling. The government had to demonstrate its majority in Parliament again. Ultimately, they succeeded, but if this deal primarily leads to environmental harm, it might not be worth pursuing. While additional power is certainly needed, there are alternative ways to generate electricity. We have already significantly impacted our rivers, forests, wildlife, and other natural resources, and now it seems the oceans and mountains might be at risk.

The supporting parties withdrew their support because they wanted more information about the deal, but Congress was reluctant to provide full details. As a result, much about the deal remains obscured, with very little information available online. I’ve heard that the deal involves obtaining uranium from the U.S. and possibly allowing them some influence over our nuclear programs, but I’m not sure. It’s unclear what the government’s exact intentions are.

Stupid Coca-Cola manager

While working on a project related to Coca-Cola, we were passing by the Coke plant in Mehndiganj, Varanasi when we noticed a house right next to it. My researcher friend was keen on interviewing someone nearby, so she asked me to find people who might agree to an interview. As I got out of the taxi in front of the Coke plant, I noticed a few security guards at the plant gate. They observed me and then went inside the plant, though I initially didn’t think much of it.

I found an elderly man in the house who was willing to be interviewed, as he was facing significant difficulties. I called my friend, and as she approached, I saw the same security guards watching us from the roof of the plant. When they saw the white girl coming towards me, they quickly descended from the roof. I assumed they were simply curious about our activities. A few minutes later, a well-dressed man arrived with several security guards. He introduced himself as a regional manager from Amar Ujala, a leading Indian newspaper, and claimed to be researching the Coke issue for an upcoming article.

He showed me an ID card issued by Amar Ujala, which confirmed his affiliation. He expressed interest in collaborating with my friend and was thrilled to find another researcher working on the same topic. They exchanged contact details. Meanwhile, the interviewee was vocal about his grievances with Coca-Cola. He claimed that he had been a landlord before Coke’s arrival but had struggled to grow enough crops since the company’s operations began. The Amar Ujala representative, however, argued that Coke provided many local jobs, a point the interviewee disputed.

The representative then gave the interviewee a written note, advising him to take it to the Coke manager to help his unemployed son find a job, claiming the manager was his good friend. The interviewee was hopeful that this would secure employment for his son. After the interview, we left, and I contacted Mr. Nandlal Master to update him. To my shock, Mr. Nandlal Master revealed that the Amar Ujala representative was actually Coca-Cola’s area manager, Mr. Amit Sinha. He had previously worked for Amar Ujala but left a few months ago to join Coke. The ID card he showed was from his time at Amar Ujala, which he had not returned.

Later that evening, Mr. Sinha called my friend, asking to meet her the next day. He called again that night, and his behavior became increasingly inappropriate. He suggested she stay with him at his place, which she declined, preferring to meet in a public setting. Despite her refusal, he persisted with suggestive comments and invitations. When she mentioned she was married, he rudely suggested that her husband wouldn’t know, which prompted her to angrily hang up the phone. She was deeply disturbed by this encounter, an unexpected behavior from a Coca-Cola manager.

The incident led to significant pressure from everyone involved to lodge a formal complaint. My friend was reluctant due to concerns about her privacy and the potential for public exposure. Mr. Nandlal Master also reached out to Amar Ujala, who were also interested in pursuing a case against Mr. Sinha for misusing their name but needed a written complaint from my friend, which she was unwilling to provide. A few days later, we visited the Coke plant with special permission from Coke US. I confirmed Mr. Sinha’s employment with Coke, and the company made efforts to appease my friend, showing her their nearby rainwater harvesting sites.

However, these sites were not close to the plant, the nearest being about 8 kilometers away. In the days that followed, Mr. Sinha attempted to settle the issue by offering money through Mr. Nandlal Master, which was firmly rejected. The situation continued for over 15 days, with persistent pressure on me to convince my friend to file a complaint, but she refused. Eventually, she left India, hoping that Mr. Sinha would be held accountable in the future, although he remains Coca-Cola’s area manager to this day.

For privacy reasons, I have not disclosed her name in any related posts.

Conference on Coca-Cola, Mehdiganj, Varanasi

It was the last day of the conference (30/03/2008) and also a day of protest in Mehndiganj, and we aimed to cover it comprehensively. As we approached the conference venue, I noticed more than ten police officers stationed there. Recalling the 2006 protest videos where the police had harshly beaten protesters, I felt a bit apprehensive. However, I knew that with everything being covered on camera, the police were unlikely to repeat such actions, as they would be held accountable in court.

We were particularly interested in interviewing out-of-town participants. Amanda was keen on speaking with activists from Kaladera, Rajasthan, where another Coca-Cola plant has created similar problems as in Mehndiganj. We interviewed Mr. Kudi ji, a prominent activist leading the movement against Coca-Cola in Kaladera. He was a genuinely kind and honest individual. Mr. Kudi ji described the issues in Kaladera, explaining that the water quality, once excellent, had deteriorated significantly since Coca-Cola’s arrival. The water now had a sour taste and a foul smell.

He mentioned that the Tata Energy Research Institute (TERI) had also advised Coca-Cola to leave Kaladera. Accompanying Mr. Kudi ji were two other activists dressed in traditional Rajasthani turbans. I had heard a lot about the impressive length of Rajasthani turbans and was eager to see one for myself. I had heard they could be as long as 15 meters, so I asked them to show us their turbans. To my amazement, the turban of one of the activists measured 11 meters long. Both Amanda and I were astonished by the length.

After finishing our interview with Mr. Kudi ji, we spoke with a representative from a laboratory in Chandauli district. This lab had conducted research on Coca-Cola’s rainwater harvesting sites. The representative reported that several of these sites were not functioning properly, with many water filter systems being filled with bricks rather than the necessary components. He pointed out that Coca-Cola’s claims about balancing groundwater through rainwater harvesting seemed dubious, especially given the lack of rain in recent years. His perspective was that planting a significant number of trees might be a more effective way to address the rainfall deficit and improve water availability.