Coca-Cola Varanasi

I worked with a journalist named Bart Spellers from Holland who was writing an article about the Coke issue in India. He wanted to visit all the disputed Coke sites in India including Mehdiganj, Varanasi and I worked with him in Varanasi as his local assistant and translator. I also look for an opportunity of visiting Mehdiganj and talking with people about their problems created by Coke so I was happy to get this job. I took Bart to Mehdiganj, arranged interviews with Nandlal Master, a few employees, the union leader at the Coke plant, a few women and a few farmers. Bart did not want so many interviews but he wanted to talk with the right kind of people because he did not have much time for Benares.

I was kind of surprised to hear that he did not have much time for his work. He was writing the article on a very controversial subject and I think he should have spent more time in Benares in order to come closer to the fact. Anyways, I think they did good job because they talked with few but the right kind of people. I had an idea but was surprised to talk with the people in Mehndiganj. I was very well aware of the situation but thought it might get better this year but after talking with the people I realized that the situation is still the same as it was four years ago when I went there the first time to work.

All of the people were still angry at Coke and the government. They all said that Coke is responsible for the lack of water in Mehdiganj and the government is doing nothing against Coke. They said that the situation has been getting worse and worse year by year which did not surprise me at all. We had less than average rain last year and I heard that Coke’s market increased within the past year in India which would of course cause more ground water shortage. Nandlal Master said that the committee constituted by the prime minister of India to study the issue has submitted its report to the PMO but has not made it public yet which sounded strange to me.

Why not make the report public since the study has been completed? Nandlal said that he has used a RTI to ask when the report will be given to him and the concerned department replied to him that they have asked the district magistrate to get him the report. It is okay if they are going to provide the report but I still do not understand why they tried to hide it? Why was it not given to the media? After all it is a big issue . So many questions again and the government and Coke both seem suspicious to me. Hopefully someday something will happen, but it is not sure when.

Finally the article is published here:
http://www.depers.nl/buitenland/497352/Coca-Cola-zuigt-de-grond-leeg.html

Coca-Cola research for book

I worked with the American writer Mr. Michael Blanding as his translator and local assistant for two days, on June 14th and 15th, in Mehndiganj. Mr. Blanding is writing a book titled *Coke Machine*, which explores the Coca-Cola issue and will be published by Penguin Publications, USA. I first met him on June 14th at the Lok Samiti’s office in Mehndiganj. While Michael has previously written articles about the Coca-Cola issue in Colombia, this book will also address problems in India, Colombia, and Mexico. One of his notable articles is “Coke: The New Nike?”

Broken pipes of Rain harvesting system at Mirjamuraj Police station

Before working with Michael, I was aware of the issues in India and Colombia but did not know that Mexico was also affected. Michael informed me that Mexico is the largest market for Coca-Cola products, and now faces severe problems with obesity and other health issues. Obesity was not prevalent in Mexico a few years ago, but with the increased sales of Coca-Cola products, the obesity rates have also risen. He also mentioned that Coca-Cola and Pepsi are planning to introduce coconut water in India, which struck me as odd. I doubt they will be able to offer a truly natural product, as it will likely be mixed with chemicals.

We interviewed about ten people, visited Coca-Cola’s rainwater harvesting sites at various locations, and examined their wastewater discharge system. I had hoped for improvements, but the situation remains unchanged. We visited two rainwater harvesting sites: one on the rooftop of the Agriculture Research Center in Kallipur village and another on the rooftop of the Mijramurad Police Station. Neither site was operational, with most pipes either broken or jammed. At the Agriculture Research Center, staff reported that Coca-Cola had set up the site about two years ago to create a positive impression.

 

However, it ceased functioning within a few months, and despite notifying Coca-Cola officials, no repairs were made. The rooftop now overflows, and the rainwater harvesting system is entirely nonfunctional. The well, intended to capture and recharge groundwater, was completely dry, and residents said they had never seen water in it due to jammed pipes. The situation at the Mijramurad Police Station was similar. Most pipes were broken or jammed, and local residents, including a journalist and police officers, confirmed that the site stopped working a few months after its installation, with no subsequent maintenance from Coca-Cola.

Residents near the Coca-Cola plant reported significant water shortages, blaming the company for their problems. They noted that water scarcity was not an issue before Coca-Cola arrived in Mehndiganj. Many showed us their dry wells and nonfunctional hand pumps. Farmers now purchase water for irrigation because their bore wells no longer work. Wealthier individuals with submersible pumps sell water to poorer farmers. We visited two ponds dug by the village committee, which are different from Coca-Cola’s sites. The committee had chosen land with lime-rich soil to filter the water effectively.

They connected nearby villages to the pond through pipes, allowing rainwater to flow into the pond and recharge groundwater. It appeared that the village committee’s efforts were far more effective than Coca-Cola’s. Nandlal Master, President of Lok Samiti, mentioned that Coca-Cola had conducted groundwater testing through an agency called TERI (Tata Environmental Research Institute), which recommended that the company leave Mehndiganj. Based on my observations over the past three years, I agree that Coca-Cola should exit Mehndiganj. I am eager for Michael’s book to be published and hope it will support the people of Mehndiganj in their struggle.

 

Airtel mobile phone scam

I use an Airtel SIM card, which is one of the largest service providers in India. A few months ago, I received a call from them about choosing a caller tune for my mobile. The automated system played a few songs and instructed me to press 3 if I wanted to select a song as my caller tune. It also mentioned that pressing 3 would subscribe me to the service for a week at a charge of Rs. 10. I intended to hang up but mistakenly pressed 3 instead of the red button located just above it, thereby subscribing to the service.

Initially, I didn’t mind as I knew the subscription was only for a week. However, the following week, I received a message saying my subscription had been renewed, which I did not want. I tried to contact customer care but was unable to, due to my lifetime validity plan. I visited their office, only to be told that lifetime plan customers could not access customer care services. It seemed that customers with lifetime plans were being treated unfairly, perhaps because they paid less.

The situation continued for three months, during which I noticed a consistent loss of balance without understanding where it was going. I thought someone else might be using my mobile, causing a negative balance. Whenever I recharged, it seemed to cover previous deductions. After a few months, I switched to a monthly billing system to receive a detailed bill. I was shocked to discover that my first month’s bill included a charge of Rs. 68 for the caller tune.

If I had subscribed to the caller tune on a monthly basis, it would have cost Rs. 30 per month. Instead, due to the weekly subscription, I was charged Rs. 68. This included Rs. 10 per week for the caller tune and an additional Rs. 7 per week for an automatic SMS that renewed the service. I never sent that SMS, yet I was charged for it. Although Rs. 68 wasn’t a huge amount, I was frustrated by what felt like deceitful billing practices.

I visited their office to unsubscribe from the service, but the representative directed me to call a specific number. I asked if she could unsubscribe me using her office computer, but she insisted that only a call could handle this. When I called the number, I faced another issue. Initially, the automated system had spoken to me in Hindi, but when I tried to unsubscribe, it was only available in English, with no language option.

The automated system used a strong American accent, which was difficult to understand, even though I am familiar with American accents. The speech was fast and unclear. After listening multiple times, I managed to unsubscribe from the caller tune service. However, I wonder how people who don’t speak English or struggle with foreign accents cope with such situations. Are they left paying Rs. 68 per month without realizing it? It’s frustrating how corporations seem to exploit every opportunity to increase their profits.

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.

Mehdiganj Conference 29/03/08

On the 29th, we arrived in Mehndiganj around noon, brimming with excitement for Medha Patkar’s visit. To my surprise, the Regional Pollution Control Officer was giving a speech when we got there. This was shocking because he was known to be an opponent of Lok Samiti. I had interviewed him several times with other researchers, and he had always been quite rude. I distinctly remember him once angrily telling me not to return to his office. Yet, here he was, delivering a speech in support of Lok Samiti, claiming, “I am here because I care about the environment, and I am thrilled to see others who share this concern.

Although I am usually very busy, I couldn’t resist coming when Nandlal invited me.” I was skeptical and believed his words were insincere. I asked Nandlal how he managed to get the officer to attend. Nandlal explained that he initially refused, but Nandlal threatened him with unspecified consequences if he didn’t show up. It was rather amusing. During this time, Medha Patkar arrived at the conference and took a seat next to me. Her attire was simple, yet dignified. The Regional Pollution Control Officer, eager to meet her, arranged through Nandlal to make his introduction.

Upon meeting Patkar, he touched her feet in a gesture of respect. Patkar inquired about the water and pollution conditions in Mehndiganj. The officer stated, “The water level in Mehndiganj is decreasing.” When Patkar asked why, he attributed it to “less rain.” Patkar then questioned whether Coca-Cola was contributing to the problem, to which the officer responded with a firm “NO.” Hearing this was quite amusing, as it was widely known that the lack of rain was a major issue, but Coca-Cola’s activities were also a significant factor. While rain was beyond control, Coca-Cola’s impact was not.

As Patkar spoke with him, other social activists joined in, questioning the officer about pollution levels. He was visibly sweating and appeared overwhelmed, like a goat surrounded by lions. The officer had brought some official documents, including a letter from Coca-Cola to the State Pollution Control Board in Lucknow, requesting the renewal of their waste disposal license. This letter was dated July of the previous year. The officer claimed that the government had not yet renewed the license. This revelation sparked outrage among the social activists, as Coca-Cola was not supposed to operate without a valid license.

Despite operating multiple times since July, Coca-Cola had not been penalized. The activists demanded a copy of the document, but the officer was reluctant to provide it. Nandlal managed to get a xerox copy while I also obtained copies of the documents. The officer extended an invitation to Nandlal and the social workers to his office in Varanasi for further discussion and promised to assist them as much as possible. However, I remained doubtful of his willingness to genuinely support their cause. After the officer left, we went for lunch. Post-lunch, it was Medha Patkar’s turn to speak. She was impressive—strong, pragmatic, and able to command attention.

Her speech was captivating, and she discussed the issues not only in Mehndiganj but also in other states. She criticized not just harmful companies but also government policies. She shared a concerning story from Chhattisgarh, where the state government had sold a section of a river to a private bottling company. The company had cordoned off the river with ropes and put up a sign declaring it their property, forbidding individuals from using the water without permission. This had created significant problems for the local population, and Patkar continued to fight against this issue.

The 29th was an extraordinary day in Mehndiganj. We witnessed Medha Patkar’s powerful address, saw the Regional Pollution Control Officer struggling under scrutiny, and Amanda had productive conversations with Sandeep Pandey, Medha Patkar, and Amit Srivastava. It was a memorable and impactful day.

Conference on Coca-Cola Mehdiganj

On March 28th, Amanda and I headed to Mehndiganj. We arrived to find a bustling conference in full swing, with over 500 attendees present. The atmosphere was lively, with a musical group performing folk songs about the Coke issue. I had seen these performers before and always enjoyed their music, so despite the noise, I found the experience enjoyable. Lok Samiti was inaugurating a new pond in Mehndiganj, and most people were attending that event. We went to the inauguration site, which was about 2 kilometers away from the conference venue.

By the time we arrived, the inauguration was over, but we managed to catch the tail end of the celebrations. Nandlal Master, Sandeep Pandey, and other social workers were distributing sweets to the villagers. I missed the ceremony itself but took plenty of pictures. While there, I met Anurag, Sandeep Pandey’s cousin who was working with ASHA. He was enthusiastic and wanted to engage with everyone. I also met Mr. Rajiv from New Jersey, a friendly member of ASHA. Amanda wanted to conduct interviews, but due to the noisy environment, we decided to focus on recording the speeches for the day instead.

Lunch was provided by Lok Samiti, and we joined about a thousand other people for the meal. Amanda and Dave were both offered food repeatedly. Dave was thrilled with the Indian food and ate everything, while Amanda left some of her food, as was her habit. After lunch, we returned to the conference. It was Dave’s turn to speak, and Anurag translated his speech. Although the translation wasn’t perfect, it sufficed. Dave spoke about a river in the U.S. that had caught fire due to heavy pollution, which made me think about the future of the Ganga.

He highlighted the importance of wetlands and the need for government intervention in environmental issues. I agreed with his points and appreciated his thoughtful speech. Following Dave, many other social workers gave speeches. One speaker from South India, who initially claimed he couldn’t speak Hindi and would give his speech in English, surprised everyone. He began in English but soon switched to fluent Hindi. I wondered why he chose to speak English initially, given that the audience was predominantly local villagers who did not understand English. It seemed he might have been trying to reach out to the few foreigners present, which felt misplaced given the context.

Reflecting on my previous experience in Mehndiganj, I remembered a cultural program organized by Lok Samiti about seven months earlier. During that event, when a guest from London was introduced, the villagers showed limited understanding of international geography. Some villagers debated whether London was far from Lucknow or close to Delhi, revealing their limited exposure to global locations. This incident underscored the lack of broader knowledge among the villagers, highlighting that the South Indian speaker’s attempt to address foreigners instead of focusing on the local audience was misguided.

The day ended with another folk song performance, and by the end of March 28th, we wrapped up our activities and headed home. The conference had been a mix of engaging moments and moments of disconnect, but it was an experience full of insights into the local dynamics and challenges.

Production work for CBC’s documentary

Today was Nagnathiya, and the CBC team was in Varanasi to start filming their documentary titled *India Rebron – Myths and Might*. Mr. Shubhranshu Chowdhary called me to inform me about it. I had previously assisted him with researching the characters. I met the team at Veer Bhadra Mishra’s house, where the play is organized in Benares. The crowd was massive, with over 25,000 people attending. Although I had seen the play several times before, this was my first experience watching it from a boat, which was a lot of fun. There were many VIPs around my boat.

CBC’s camera was incredible—it was an HD camera, and I had never seen anything like it before. I stayed with them throughout the play’s filming. Afterward, we went to Dashashwamedh Ghat to film the Aarti, which was the final task for the day. CBC wanted to film Mr. Veer Bhadra Mishra the next morning, something I had been looking forward to. I asked Mr. Chowdhary if I could observe Mr. Mishra’s interview, and he said he would call me when they started shooting.

I was very excited about the interview and eagerly awaited Mr. Chowdhary’s call, but he didn’t call. When I finally reached out to him, he informed me that I wouldn’t be able to attend the interview due to certain restrictions imposed by Mr. Mishra. After Mr. Mishra’s interview, the team spent the entire day filming Raja Babu, one of our characters. After two days with Raja Babu, they left Benares.

Work with MTV Italy

My brother, who was working as an Italian interpreter for MTV Italy, asked me to assist them in Benares and Allahabad. They were working on a documentary titled *Camminando*, a joint production between MTV Italy and LA7 (Channel 7). They were in Lucknow when they contacted me, and their next stop was Allahabad, where they wanted to film Patalpuri Temple and the ghats, but they didn’t have any contacts or a clear plan for the shoot. I was tasked with selecting characters and scheduling interviews in both Benares and Allahabad, with only four days to complete the work.

I reached out to Mr. Shubhranshu Chowdhary, who had been my boss during the CBC documentary, to see if he knew anyone in Allahabad. He provided me with the contact information of a journalist in Benares, who then connected me with another journalist in Allahabad. The following day, I traveled to Allahabad and met the journalist. We visited all the locations MTV wanted to film, including the Patalpuri Temple, which is located within Akbar’s fort and is now a military base. Despite our attempts to contact the army officers, the process seemed too lengthy given our tight schedule. I decided to leave this part to the journalist and returned to Benares to complete the remaining tasks.

In Benares, MTV wanted to film Sadhus, Babas, and Aghoris. I first visited the Kina Ram Monastery, the headquarters of the Aghor society. However, I was unable to obtain permission to shoot there because previous TV channels had filmed there without proper authorization, resulting in unauthorized footage being included in their broadcasts. I learned that Aghoris are often misunderstood; they do not consume dead body flesh or engage in other extreme practices as rumored. Although they were very open and informative, they did not allow us to film.

I then visited several other Aghor monasteries, all of which shared similar views about the society’s practices, emphasizing that Aghoris no longer partake in such rituals. I also explored Bhagwan Avdhoot Ram Ashram on the other side of the Ganga, which was quite interesting. The ashram operates a hospital recognized in the Guinness World Records for treating the most leprosy patients, as well as a school for street children, a library, and a press. Although the ashram was initially reluctant to allow MTV to film due to previous issues with the Kina Ram Monastery, I managed to persuade them to permit the shoot.

I visited other monasteries that were open to filming, including one with several Italian Aghoris. Despite their limited knowledge about Aghora, MTV was keen to include them. MTV was particularly interested in finding an Aghori who would eat dead body flesh on camera. This was a challenge because, according to Aghoris, such practices had been abandoned over 400 years ago by Baba Kina Ram and were now prohibited. However, I managed to locate an Aghori who agreed to eat dead body flesh. He planned to perform a special puja called Mahabhog once a year, using dead body flesh, and was willing to conduct an additional puja specifically for MTV.

I was shocked by his willingness to engage in such practices for money. He even provided a list of materials he needed, including two bottles of whisky, and assured me he would arrange for the dead body. He explained that when bodies are cremated, some are retrieved by the Doams, who work at the funeral place, and this would be used for his puja. MTV Italy was thrilled to have found someone willing to perform this ritual, but their Rome office ultimately prohibited the footage of the ritual due to ethical concerns. After completing the filming in Allahabad, MTV Italy arrived in Benares.

We filmed all the planned characters, including an intriguing Baba known as Lali Baba, who wore over 350 necklaces weighing more than 40 kg and engaged in various unique practices. MTV considered Lali Baba to be the standout character of the documentary. We also filmed at the Mother Teresa Home. When the shoot concluded, MTV Italy left Varanasi. Unfortunately, they were among the most disorganized teams I have ever worked with. They lacked a clear schedule, had no knowledge of what to do in Benares until just days before their arrival, and were unfamiliar with the characters they wanted to film.

Later, my brother informed me that the entire crew was arrested in Khajuraho for filming inside temples where cameras were prohibited. They had entered the temple by scaling the back wall and spent over eight hours in jail. Their lack of organization was astonishing.

History of Coca-Cola in India

Coca-Cola first entered India in 1956, operating with 100% foreign equity due to the lack of a foreign exchange act at that time. The Indian Foreign Exchange Regulation Act was introduced in 1973 during Indira Gandhi’s tenure. This act required foreign companies selling consumer goods in India to invest 40% of their equity in Indian associates. Although Coca-Cola agreed to invest 40% of its equity in India, it insisted on retaining full control over technical and administrative functions, excluding local participation.

This stance conflicted with the foreign exchange act. Consequently, the government instructed Coca-Cola to either revise its plan or exit the country. In 1976, Indira Gandhi called for elections, leading to the formation of a unified opposition under the Janata Party. The Janata Party came to power in 1977 and demanded that Coca-Cola either comply with the foreign exchange act or leave India. Coca-Cola chose to leave that year.

Following Coca-Cola’s departure, George Fernandes commented:
“Coke had 100% equity in India. Their investment was minimal—Rs. 6,00,000, equivalent to less than $20,000 at the time. From this investment, they repatriated an estimated 250 million rupees (about $8 million) in profit over twenty years.”

In 1993, Coca-Cola re-entered the Indian market, benefiting from new liberalization policies. The revised foreign exchange regulations allowed for up to 51% foreign equity and provided automatic approval for technology agreements in high-priority industries. Foreign investors and companies could now hold up to 100% equity in these sectors, with greater freedom for repatriating capital.

In 1999, Coca-Cola acquired Parle, India’s leading soft drink brand, which included popular beverages like Thums Up, Limca, and Gold Spot. Prior to the re-entry of Coca-Cola and Pepsi, over 50 Indian soft drink brands had emerged, and 200 production plants had been established. However, as Coca-Cola and Pepsi gained market dominance, many indigenous drinks disappeared, and the demand for healthier options declined.