work with DePauw university

My Work with DePauw University, Indiana (USA)

I had the opportunity to work with DePauw University from Indiana, USA, when Mr. Rajai Bimbo, the Assistant Director of the Department of Civic, Global, and Professional Opportunities, contacted me regarding his students’ one-week trip to Varanasi. He reached out because of my work with the LGBT community in India and also showed interest in learning about the NGOs active in Varanasi.

Although Banaras Hindu University (BHU) was officially their host institution, the team was not satisfied with the way BHU professors and a local contact, Mr. Ramuji, were handling communication. They often failed to respond on time, and at one point Mr. Bimbo even asked me what I could offer to the students for a week-long program. This clearly showed that they had considered trusting me with the entire program. However, since BHU and Ramuji were “big names,” I eventually didn’t receive the full responsibility.

Mr. Bimbo even told me that he had requested BHU professors and Ramuji to collaborate with me so that we could jointly deliver the program, but they declined. Their response was that my work was “good, but not good enough” to be part of their official arrangement. Despite this, Mr. Bimbo made sure I was involved in some capacity. He invited me to spend time with the students, especially to talk about LGBT rights in India and activism in Varanasi.

With only a few hours to prepare, I put together a meaningful program for them. I organized a visit to Lok Samiti in Mehdiganj, arranged an interview with Mr. Nandlal Master, and guided the students through a local Indian village. They also visited a Coca-Cola–affected site where they learned about the community’s struggle against the company. At the MNREGA site, where a canal was being dug, students interacted with farmers and laborers, which they found deeply engaging.

Working with students has always been my priority, and it remains my dream to organize university-level experiential programs in my city. Unfortunately, due to local politics and monopoly in this field, I wasn’t given the larger responsibility with DePauw. The activities I offered were far more enriching than what BHU and Ramuji provided, but because of institutional politics, the students missed out on experiencing the best of what Varanasi had to offer.

Still, I take pride in the fact that both Mr. Bimbo and the students were happy with my contribution. For me, that was the biggest achievement.

Coca-Cola Varanasi

I worked with a journalist named Bart Spellers from the Netherlands, who was writing an article about the Coca-Cola controversy in India. He wanted to visit the disputed Coke sites across the country, including Mehdiganj near Varanasi. I assisted him in Varanasi as his local guide and translator. I was also eager for an opportunity to visit Mehdiganj again and speak directly with the people affected by Coca-Cola’s presence, so I was glad to take this job. I accompanied Bart to Mehdiganj and arranged interviews with Nandlal Master, a few plant employees, the union leader, several women, and local farmers.

Bart wasn’t interested in conducting too many interviews—he preferred speaking to a smaller group of the right people, since he had limited time in Varanasi. I was honestly surprised to learn how little time he had allocated for this work. Given that his article was on such a controversial subject, I felt he should have spent more time in Benares to gain a deeper understanding. Still, I think he did a good job overall, because he focused on meaningful conversations with key voices.

Although I was already familiar with the issue, I was still taken aback when I spoke with the people of Mehdiganj. I had hoped the situation might have improved over the past few years, but I quickly realized it was just as bad as when I first visited four years ago. The anger against Coca-Cola and the government was still intense. Residents told us that Coca-Cola was directly responsible for the depletion of groundwater in the area, while the government continued to turn a blind eye.

They said the situation had been deteriorating year by year. Last year, rainfall was below average, yet Coca-Cola’s market share in India had grown—naturally putting even more pressure on already scarce groundwater. Nandlal Master explained that a committee formed by the Prime Minister’s Office had completed a study of the issue and submitted its report, but the findings had not been made public. This seemed strange to me.

Why not release the report if the study is already finished? According to Nandlal, he had filed an RTI request to obtain a copy. The concerned department replied that the district magistrate had been instructed to provide him with the report. That is fine, but it still raises questions: why hide it in the first place? Why wasn’t the media informed? This silence from both the government and Coca-Cola only adds to the suspicion surrounding the issue.

For now, nothing has changed. People continue to struggle, and we are left with unanswered questions. Hopefully, one day, transparency and accountability will prevail—but when, no one can say.

Finally, Bart’s article was published here:
Coca-Cola zuigt de grond leeg

Hindi classes with Italian cultural center

For the past two months, I’ve been doing something new: working as a Hindi teacher at the Centro Risorse India center. I’ve been conducting “walking classes,” which are both interesting and enjoyable, though they can be a bit dull when dealing with absolute beginners. About two months ago, Marco, the head of Centro Risorse India, asked me to give these walking classes. Although I had no prior experience, Marco encouraged me to give it a try. He assured me that if I liked it, there would be more opportunities for me.

With some free time on my hands, I decided to take on the challenge. My first student was Caterina, a girl from the University of Venice. I took her out for a walk, and we started conversing in Hindi. To make the sessions more engaging, I chose topics related to Benares or Indian culture instead of sticking to general conversation. This approach proved effective. Caterina, who lived in the Nagwa neighborhood, was my very first student, and I felt a bit nervous on that first day. I chose to discuss the “History of Nagwa” as the topic.

We spent a couple of hours discussing Nagwa and also delved into some controversial political and social issues related to the neighborhood. The class flew by, and I found the experience quite fulfilling. Since then, I have worked with many students and thoroughly enjoy the job, especially when the students have a sufficient grasp of Hindi to express themselves. This role not only allows me to share information about India and Benares with foreigners but also gives me a chance to learn about different countries and cultures through my interactions with international students.

However, I encountered a student who knew no Hindi at all, which was extremely frustrating. I advised her to focus on Hindi grammar first before reaching out to me again. Despite this, the feedback from the students I’ve worked with has been positive. Now, the university is offering me a language and teaching training program in Venice for a month, which sounds exciting. However, I’m unsure if I should attend, as the program is scheduled for June, when I plan to visit America. I’m considering whether there might be an opportunity to visit neighboring countries of Italy after the training, which would make the trip even more appealing.

Josh Massad’s World Through Music

I’m working with a musician named Josh Massad on a project called “World Through Music,” which focuses on teaching music and other subjects through music. Josh travels globally, teaching music to children in various regions. In the U.S., he introduces American kids to African and Indian music. In Africa, he teaches Indian and American music to African kids, and currently, in India, he’s teaching African, American, and Asian music to children in Varanasi. About a month ago, Josh contacted me to see if I would be interested in collaborating on this project.

Josh with village kids

The project intrigued me, so I agreed to assist him. My role involves organizing his performances at schools throughout Varanasi. To give Josh and his project broad exposure, I arranged for him to perform at a variety of schools, including city schools, village schools, private schools, government schools, play schools, and schools run by NGOs. In total, we planned around 50 performances over 25 days, with 25 performances at village schools where children come from very poor families, 10 at NGO-run training centers for girls, 10 at city schools, and about 5 at schools run by NGOs.

Josh teaching Kanjira

One of the performances is scheduled at a school for children of sex workers in Varanasi. These children often face difficulties gaining admission to traditional schools due to a lack of residential proof and documentation about their parents. An NGO in Varanasi has started a school specifically for these children, and we will be working with them as well. Additionally, we’ve organized performances with children from my educational program and with daytime child laborers in Mehdiganj, where Lok Samiti runs evening classes for them.

Dancing with a kid

Josh carries a map and various instruments from around the world. He starts by discussing geography, teaching about the seven continents and the countries within them. He then shows these locations on a map and introduces the instruments, explaining where each one originates. It was surprising to see that many village kids had little knowledge of geography; some didn’t even know which continent India is on or could name its states. I hope Josh’s lessons will spark their curiosity and expand their knowledge.

Josh teaching map

After introducing his instruments, Josh plays them for the kids and teaches them African songs. One song, in particular, is a favorite: “Fanga Alafia, Ashe Ashe,” a welcome song from Africa. The kids love singing it and joining in with Josh. He also teaches various clapping styles and occasionally introduces basic yoga techniques. The project is progressing well, and seeing the children’s enjoyment makes me happy. However, a few teachers have questioned the relevance of teaching African songs, expressing doubt about their impact.

showing an Indonesian instrument

I don’t expect the children to master all of Josh’s instruments or geography in a single day, but I am confident that his performances will ignite an interest in world geography and music. If they glance at a map even once at home, I’ll consider the project a success. Josh is planning to make a documentary about his work next year and wants me to organize the details. He is also considering starting a mobile school in India and again hopes I can help with the arrangements. He envisions bringing musicians from various places to travel with him and teach music and geography. It sounds incredibly exciting, and I’m looking forward to being part of it.

Kids also love to play the instruments

San Francisco guests at home

I hosted a couple from San Francisco at my guest house for three weeks. They arrived in Varanasi five weeks ago and initially stayed at a guest house near Assi Ghat for two weeks. Unfortunately, they were uncomfortable there because the bed in their room was not to their liking. They learned about my guest house through Megan, one of my guests, whom they met at a café. Megan brought them to my place, and they enjoyed it so much that they decided to spend the rest of their time in Varanasi with us. Both of them are psychologists from San Francisco.

They were eager to learn Hindi and tabla while in Varanasi. I introduced them to the Indian classical music school next door, where Uncle Sam was impressed and decided to take tabla lessons. Binit, the Hindi teacher, taught them the language. They showed a strong interest in social work, having already been involved with Bal Ashram before arriving. I also took them to Lok Samiti to show them the organization’s work, and they were deeply impressed. They even asked Nandlal Master, the president of Lok Samiti, if they could assist with his efforts.

Uncle Sam and Auntie Mar were wonderful guests. Even though their stay was only three weeks, we developed a strong bond, and I miss them now. Uncle Sam kindly gave me a netbook, which will be incredibly useful for me during power cuts and while traveling.

Italian language course

I’ve recently joined an Italian language course and am excited about the opportunity. I’ve always wanted to learn a foreign language, but in Varanasi, there haven’t been many options. BHU and Sampoornanand Sanskrit University were the only institutions offering foreign language courses, and BHU only accepts its own students, while attending Sampoornanand felt like a waste of time. Although I wasn’t particularly interested in Italian initially, I enrolled in this course because I realized that waiting for a more suitable opportunity might mean years of delay in learning a language.

My goal has always been to learn German, and Sampoornanand University does offer a six-month diploma in various foreign languages, including German. I had signed up for German classes about four years ago, but the program was poorly managed, and I was disheartened to learn that students were given certificates regardless of their performance. Eventually, I decided to stop attending. The Italian course I’m now enrolled in is conducted by Centro Risorse India, an Italian institution that not only teaches Italian to Indians but also supports Italian students in India.

I also work as a translator at Centro Risorse India’s Varanasi branch. The course consists of 50 hours of instruction, with three-hour classes on weekends. The classes are held at a school near Godowlia. The course features two teachers: an Indian woman from Delhi who also works at Centro Risorse India’s Pune center, and an Italian scholar who is fluent in Hindi. There are six students in total, including me. One of my classmates is a tour guide who works with Japanese tourists, while another is a Hindi teacher.

Our teachers are excellent. They use interactive methods rather than traditional book-based instruction, incorporating games, role-plays, and frequent speaking practice. Although the pronunciation and grammar are challenging and unfamiliar to me, I’m committed to doing my best. I’m unsure how long it will take to become proficient in speaking and writing Italian, but I’m determined to make progress and see where this journey takes me.

Finally received tour guide license

I finally received my tour guide license on the 30th, marking the end of a three-year wait. I had initially applied for it in 2006. I began preparing for the entrance exam shortly after my application, but had to halt my preparations when the Tour Guide Association of India sued the Indian government over the licensing process. The association was resistant to new entrants, fearing that their established positions were at risk. Many of the existing guides had obtained their licenses when the process was simpler, and now that the requirements were stricter, the association was obstructing the changes to protect their interests.

My brother Chandan, who works as an escort, shared a humorous anecdote with me. On his last visit to Benares, he hired a government-approved tour guide for a morning boat ride. The guide spoke at length about Benares, Hinduism, and the Ganges River, emphasizing that the Ganges is revered as a mother by Hindus. However, shortly after his talk, the guide began chewing betel and spat it out into the Ganges in front of his clients. This understandably upset the clients, who questioned whether Hindus spit on their mother. The guide had no response, which reflects the kind of professionalism that should be avoided. I hope that the training I received will prevent such unprofessional behavior.

The certificate

The tour guide training program faced numerous delays due to ongoing legal battles between the Tour Guide Association of India and the government. The association initially sued as soon as the application forms were released, causing several months of delays. After the government managed to resolve the first legal issue, they conducted the entrance exam, only for the association to sue again, leading to further delays as the case was heard in the Delhi High Court. Ultimately, the government won, and the High Court directed them to resume the training program, which finally started in August 2009 after a three-year delay.

Sana and I at convocation hall

The training was conducted at IITTM in Gwalior and lasted for 16 weeks—6 weeks of classroom instruction and 10 weeks of fieldwork. The curriculum included over 75 lectures, and I wrote a research paper focusing on the cultural diversity of Benares. The program concluded with a written exam and an interview, both of which I successfully passed. I received my certificate and now need to visit the India Tourism office in Delhi with a police verification certificate to obtain a provisional license, which will be valid for two months. After this period, I should receive my permanent license (red card). I hope there will be no further issues in Delhi.

Happy moment

Child sponsorship in Varanasi

I recently connected with a Hungarian individual named Attila, who is a computer engineer in Hungary and volunteers with a Hungarian NGO (www.afroaid.hu). This NGO operates a child sponsorship program in Africa. Attila expressed his desire to volunteer in Varanasi, India, with plans to come next year with his wife for a year. He was particularly interested in NGOs focused on children’s education programs. I introduced him to various NGOs in the area, and he showed interest in several of them. Given my own interest in similar initiatives, I suggested to Attila that we consider starting our own program in Varanasi.

Attila was enthusiastic about this idea. He shared that he had a great experience working with children in Africa and was eager to apply his expertise to establish a similar program in Varanasi. We discussed how to initiate the program and decided to begin with some preliminary research. We visited several local schools to estimate the cost of education per child. Attila was also keen on providing one meal a day to the children to alleviate the burden of meal preparation at home. We decided to start with 30 children: 10 from the city area and 20 from the village area.

We made a trip to Mehndiganj to visit Lok Samiti, which runs an education program that Attila wanted to see. We toured Lok Samiti’s school and training centers, interacted with the children, and heard some heart-wrenching stories. Lok Samiti offers evening classes for children who work during the day, which is my favorite program among their offerings. It was striking to see children working 12-hour shifts and still attending evening classes. There were more than 30 children at the evening center.

The children were incredibly innocent and curious. They asked Attila questions about his life in Hungary, such as whether he had goats, what he grew on his farm, how he came to India, and how much money he earned. Given that these children earn about Rs. 1,000 per month, Attila found it challenging to answer their questions. We also visited some of Lok Samiti’s training centers for girls over 14, where they receive training in sewing, embroidery, dance, and basic education. The aim of these programs is to empower the girls to become self-sufficient.

We asked Nandlal Master, the president of Lok Samiti, to select 20 children from his program who are both impoverished and eager to continue their education, with supportive parents. We conducted a similar search in the city and identified 10 children from impoverished families who were interested in learning. One of them was a 12-year-old girl named Rashmi, who had previously attended an English-medium private school but had to quit due to financial constraints.

Rashmi impressed me deeply. She had attended school up to the 6th standard, and my niece, who was also a student at Rashmi’s former school, told me that Rashmi was well-regarded by her teachers. Rashmi was the only child who clearly articulated her future goals. When Attila asked her what she wanted to become, she replied, “an engineer,” and specifically, “a computer engineer.” Rashmi explained that she wanted to develop computer programs to help poor people. Both Attila and I were taken aback by such a thoughtful response from a 12-year-old.

All the children we met were eager to attend school, but many faced obstacles. Some had already stopped attending school due to financial difficulties, while others who were capable of attending better schools were stuck in government schools that offered only minimal education. We have selected a few schools and plan to enroll the children in the nearest quality school to their homes starting in March 2010. Some of the children will need basic English language training to thrive in English-medium schools. We are organizing two-hour evening classes for the selected children. With this initiative, thirty families now have hope, and I feel a strong responsibility as a local supporter.

Attila has returned to Hungary but has already secured some supporters and hopes to find more for all the children. We have decided to keep office expenses minimal until we reach 50 children. Attila and his wife will be living in Varanasi for a year and managing the program’s administrative work. We aim to forgo formal office space to ensure that all funds directly benefit the program. I am excited to be involved in this project and look forward to working closely with Attila.

Tawayaf culture

I am currently hosting a Fulbright scholar named Megan, who is conducting research for the University of Pittsburgh. Her research focuses on the tawayaf culture. She has rented an entire flat and will be staying with us until June 2010. We have discussed various aspects of tawayaf culture in Varanasi. While I was aware that Lucknow was the most renowned center for tawayafs, Megan mentioned that the tawayaf culture in Varanasi has virtually disappeared. However, after speaking with a few friends and relatives, I learned that there are still some places where tawayafs perform.

Many people mistakenly believe that tawayafs were merely prostitutes, but this is far from the truth. Tawayafs were highly educated women, trained in various skills such as dancing, singing, and literature, and were well-respected in society. My friend Ravi told me that children from royal families were sent to tawayafs for training in behavior, ghazal writing, and other skills. The residence of tawayafs was known as a “kotha,” which is now commonly misinterpreted as a brothel, but this is not accurate. Kothas were actually places where tawayafs lived and performed.

Typically, a kotha would house multiple tawayafs, with one senior tawayaf serving as the head. The head was responsible for training the other tawayafs. Kothas often hosted dance performances every evening that were open to the public. They employed male musicians who played various instruments, while the tawayafs performed dances. Alcohol was served to special clients or occasionally to all attendees. While sex work was also part of the kotha’s activities, it was not comparable to today’s brothels where one can pay a minimal amount for sexual services.

Tawayafs were expensive, and it is said that they had the right to choose their clients. They usually had one special client with whom they maintained a significant relationship, which was quite different from the typical sex work-client relationship. Tawayafs also had children, and this special client often acted as a father figure to the children. Tawayafs were invited to perform at palaces and entertain royal families. From what I have learned, tawayafs were accepted and respected in society, although kothas themselves were still viewed with disdain.

Information about tawayafs is limited, but I have heard that there are still a few kothas operating illegally in Varanasi and Lucknow. Megan’s research on tawayafs is fascinating, but she has expressed a growing interest in studying modern sex workers due to the limited information available on tawayafs. I am eager to learn more about tawayafs and look forward to seeing what insights Megan’s thesis might offer.

Music in Islam

I made a lot of new friends while staying in Gwalior for tour guide training, and two of them were Muslims. One of them, with whom I shared an apartment, is a doctoral student from JNU. He comes from a very small village in Bihar’s Sitamarhi district. He completed his schooling in Sitamarhi, then moved to Aligarh Muslim University for his B.A., and is now pursuing his Ph.D. at JNU. He works as a Spanish escort and earns a good income. He has a deep passion for music, and a substantial portion of his computer hard drive is filled with music files.

He played music constantly, and I noticed a large music system in his hostel room at JNU. He is set to marry in December, and he and his brother, who also lives in JNU, were discussing how to arrange the music for the wedding. They wanted a band for the wedding parade and music for the reception, but Islam forbids it, and his family and neighbors are very strict followers of Islamic traditions. He told me that in his village, playing any kind of music is forbidden. If someone is caught playing music, the villagers would yell at them and stop the music immediately. If he were to play music, people would criticize him for engaging in such a “bad” practice despite his education and Ph.D. Music is a serious issue in his village.

I listened to him and his brother discuss this for over an hour, and they couldn’t come up with a solution for including music at the wedding. I suggested that change often happens in society and perhaps this could be an opportunity for him to bring about change, but he felt it was nearly impossible to change deeply ingrained traditions in his community. I’ve never attended a Muslim wedding myself, but I’ve seen a few from the outside and noticed that they did include music. He explained that rules are enforced by influential people, and if they break them, it’s overlooked.

However, if ordinary people break these rules, it causes problems. He said that while wealthy Muslims can enjoy music, dances, and alcohol, the general Muslim population is restricted from these pleasures. When I asked how ordinary people view the rich Muslims who break these rules, he said they are seen as being out of touch with their community. Music is respected in many cultures around the world. In Hinduism, for example, Saraswati is the goddess of music, and people perform rituals with their musical instruments. It’s hard for me to imagine a wedding without music. Hindu weddings are lively, with plenty of music and dancing.

I’ve also heard that Christian weddings can be somewhat subdued, but I’m sure they include music. Music is enjoyable and even has proven health benefits according to scientific research. I respect people’s beliefs, but this issue is difficult for me to grasp. Many Mughal emperors, like Akbar, were great patrons of music. Tansen, one of the Nine Jewels of Akbar’s court, was a renowned musician. I conducted research by discussing the topic with Muslims and exploring online resources to determine Islam’s stance on music. To my surprise, I discovered that Islam indeed considers music to be haram and sinful. It seems like anything that makes the living creatures happy is prohibited in Islam but this rule does apply on the rich as said by my friend.