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

Delhi Gay Pride 2009 – parade

I attended the Delhi Gay Pride on the 26th and was thrilled to experience it firsthand. Having heard so much about the vibrant and festive nature of gay pride festivals, I was eager to see it for myself. I arrived in Delhi on the 24th, and Adam and Megan joined me for the parade. Although they had initially planned to go to Benares, they changed their flights to come to Delhi and be part of the event with me.

They had arranged for band performances to provide music. When I arrived, around two thousand people were already present. I asked the organizer about the expected turnout, and he mentioned that while last year they had anticipated about 500 attendees, they ended up with around 1500. This year, they were hoping for about 2500 participants. He also noted that media support had been strong the previous year and was expected to be similar this year. Indeed, there were numerous media representatives covering the event. The police were also present, though it was unclear whether their assistance was a formal obligation or a voluntary act of support, but they were definitely helping.

I spent my time wandering around and observing the festivities. Initially, I had planned to speak with the participants, but once I arrived and saw how joyful and immersed they were in the celebration, I decided against interrupting them. What struck me the most was that the parade included not just gay individuals, but also many straight people and families. There were numerous foreigners as well. I spoke with a few of them about their reasons for attending, and they all gave similar responses—primarily, they were there to support the cause.

The organizing committee had provided masks for those who wished to conceal their identities, and many participants, including straight people and families, chose to use them. While I understand that gay culture is still not fully accepted in India, which might explain why some in the LGBTQ+ community wore masks, I was puzzled by the presence of masks among straight participants. If they were so reluctant to be seen, I questioned why they were participating at all. I believe that it’s important for everyone to step forward and openly support the cause; only through such visibility and advocacy can the gay community in India achieve the recognition and acceptance it deserves.

I overheard some LGBTQ+ individuals speaking with the media. When asked about their experiences, they all shared similar sentiments: they feel ridiculed and believe they lack equal rights. As the parade began, the atmosphere was charged with energy, joy, and happiness. The band had started playing, and everyone was in high spirits. Many people danced with their partners, while others danced alone, waving the rainbow flag high. The parade was scheduled to start at 5 PM, but as with many things in India, it was delayed. This was the first time I didn’t mind the delay.

Finally, around 5:45 PM, the parade began. The vibrant energy, joy, and happiness I witnessed were only matched by a previous experience I had in Mehndiganj in 2007 during a rally against Coca-Cola. There was loud music, people jumping, shouting, dancing, and laughing—it was exhilarating. The atmosphere and the people filled me with an incredible sense of energy. A massive rainbow flag, carried by nearly twenty people, was a highlight of the parade. They jumped and danced with it, creating a stunning visual effect. The music was vibrant, and the whole scene was absolutely exhilarating.

The participants of the parade were very modern and liberal in their attire. Many had customized masks, caps, hats, and outfits. I saw several girls dressed in just shorts and bras, adorned with tattoos—something quite uncommon in India. The hijras also attended, dressed in a way that was noticeably different from their usual attire. As the parade began to move, more and more people joined in. A large number of students arrived, and by this point, the crowd had swelled to around 3,000 participants. Many onlookers stood along both sides of the road, watching the parade with interest.

I noticed people emerging from restaurants and shops, eagerly joining the festivities. The participants carried a variety of banners, posters, and flyers, each with different slogans emblazoned on their clothing and bodies. Many participants had their faces painted in vibrant rainbow colors. I had brought around 100 HIV & AIDS educational pamphlets to distribute among the crowd, and Adam and Megan kindly helped me with this task. We handed out the pamphlets quickly, but I noticed an interesting pattern: while some people were hesitant to take a pamphlet, others were very eager. A few individuals even approached us specifically asking for one.

One elderly man took a pamphlet and returned to Adam, expressing a desire to discuss the material inside. Adam asked the elderly man to speak with me, and he approached me with a question. He asked if I worked in HIV & AIDS, to which I confirmed. He then inquired if I supported the gay community and gay rights, and I affirmed that I did. However, he raised a surprising point. He questioned how I could support gay rights while working on HIV & AIDS, asserting that gays are responsible for the spread of HIV worldwide. His tone was somewhat agitated, and while I wanted to engage in a discussion about his perspective, the parade was moving, so I handed him my business card and suggested we continue the conversation at a later time.

He never reached out to me again, but it was disheartening to hear him blame the gay community for the spread of HIV & AIDS. While it’s true that gay men are at a higher risk of contracting HIV compared to heterosexual individuals, that doesn’t mean they are solely responsible for its spread. Many argue that gay people often practice safer sex compared to straights. I believe that the Indian government’s handling of HIV & AIDS programs and the corruption within the public health sector play a larger role in the spread of the disease, rather than the gay community itself.

I also spoke with a gay man who was interviewed by a journalist. He mentioned that he had been in a gay relationship for the past five years and was proud of it. He pointed out that gay individuals are often more knowledgeable about safe sex and STDs than heterosexuals, highlighting that education and awareness are crucial in managing health risks. The journalist asked him if he had informed his family about his sexuality, and he shared that while his father was aware, his mother sometimes referred to him as part of the hijra community. It’s clear that many people still confuse gays with hijras, not understanding the differences between them.

When the parade reached Jantar Mantar, it came to a stop for a series of speeches by social activists, gay rights supporters, NGO representatives, and a few participants. Some of those who had been wearing masks during the parade removed them when they took the stage. It was striking to see the shift in their demeanor—from being shy earlier to confidently expressing themselves in front of the crowd. The change in their confidence was palpable and marked a powerful moment of visibility and solidarity. The speakers declared loudly that they were no longer shy and were proud to be gay.

The speeches covered various topics, including Section 377 and other LGBTQ+ rights issues. As a symbolic gesture, the organizer invited everyone to light a candle. I joined in and lit a candle myself. With the parade concluded, the focus shifted to the party, which was set to begin at 9:30 PM at M Lounge bar in Sector 15, Noida. It was around 7 o’clock, and the organizers asked participants to regroup at 8:30. They had arranged several buses to transport everyone to the party venue. I was eagerly looking forward to the celebration.

Corruption in India

It seems like “pending” has become a ubiquitous term here, and perhaps we use it more than anywhere else in the world. We have the highest number of legal cases pending in our courts, and people often spend their entire lives pursuing cases with no resolution. Many now prefer to settle disputes privately rather than dealing with the police or courts. When dealing with the police, bribery is almost inevitable. If you go to court, you’re faced with both bribery and lengthy delays before any judgment is reached. Sometimes, even judges are bribed, which compromises the fairness of their decisions.

I experienced this firsthand. Several years ago, I filed a case against a computer shop where I had bought a computer. I had been charged Rs. 43,000 for a computer worth Rs. 23,000. I demanded either a refund or the return of the computer. The shopkeeper agreed to take the computer back and issued me two post-dated bank cheques. However, when I tried to cash them, the bank informed me that there were insufficient funds. Despite repeated attempts and promises from the shopkeeper, I never received my money.

After this, I decided to take legal action. It took over seven years and substantial personal time and lawyer fees before the judgment was finally delivered—in favor of the shopkeeper, because he had bribed the judge. Despite having clear evidence of my case, including a stamped paper agreement and a receipt, justice was not served. I also applied for a tour guide license two years ago, but have yet to receive it. The process has been stalled in various courts. Initially, it took nearly a year for the government to process the application and conduct the exam.

Later, existing guides filed lawsuits to block new entrants into the field. Although I passed the exam, the government has only issued temporary licenses, which are not satisfactory. It seems unlikely that I will receive a permanent license within the next year. I applied for another tour guide license from the state government about two and a half years ago, and the situation is similar. The government has been sued by established guides, and the case remains unresolved. I have almost forgotten about it, as there has been no progress or hearing regarding this case. The Rs. 500 application fee has not been refunded, and it appears the exam may never be conducted.

Additionally, I applied for a registration for a guest house a year and a half ago but have yet to receive it. I am told every few weeks that they are still surveying and will issue the license soon. On one occasion, they even told me to reapply because they lost my paperwork. While the application process was not costly, it was time-consuming. I am currently hosting guests without a license, merely informing the local intelligence unit. Having an official license would provide peace of mind.

Will No Smoking work in India?

The Indian government’s decision to ban smoking in public places, announced on October 2nd—Gandhi’s birthday—seemed almost laughable. I was skeptical about whether people would adhere to this new rule. During the first week after its implementation, media outlets captured images of people smoking in public areas and presented them to the District Magistrate (DM), questioning whether the rule applied to Benares. The DM responded that they had not yet received a written copy of the regulations, so they were unsure how to enforce the ban.

Recently, I visited Delhi and went to the Delhi High Court for some work. To my surprise, I saw many advocates and police officers smoking within the court premises. At first, I thought I must have mistakenly entered the wrong place because it seemed inconceivable that law enforcement and legal professionals would flout the very laws they are meant to uphold. There was a canteen inside the court where smoking seemed permissible, but many people, including advocates, were smoking outside the canteen.

After finishing my work, I went to a tea shop about 50 meters from the High Court and asked for a cigarette. The shopkeeper informed me that he did not sell cigarettes. When I inquired about the nearest place to buy cigarettes, he directed me to a shop inside the High Court. He explained that selling tobacco products near the High Court was prohibited, yet tobacco products were sold within the court premises. The inconsistency left both of us puzzled. It’s common to see people smoking in public spaces, including trains and buses, despite a long-standing ban.

Many restaurants catering to foreigners still permit smoking. Although there was some discussion about the new law in its early days, I doubt anyone follows it, and I believe it will continue to be ignored. The law seems to be ridiculed, and there’s a prevailing belief that it won’t work in India. Ironically, while the government sought to curb cigarette smoke with this law, it recently repealed the Prevention of Terrorism Act (POTA), which was enacted by the previous BJP government to combat terrorism.

Although terrorism persisted under POTA, the law kept it in check to some extent. Since its repeal, the number of terrorist activities has surged dramatically. While countries around the world are enacting new laws to combat terrorism, India appears to be moving in the opposite direction by withdrawing existing ones. The repeal of POTA was driven by political motivations rather than effectiveness. In the last six months alone, India has experienced sixty-four bomb blasts—a record high. This escalation highlights the urgent need for effective counter-terrorism measures, rather than dismantling the tools that helped control it.

Tour guide exam result

The results for the tour guide exam have finally been declared, and I passed! The exam was held on August 26, 2007, and the results were announced on November 7, 2008, after more than a year. The government faced numerous challenges during this period, including four lawsuits from applicants on various grounds, but everything is now settled. Out of over 50,000 applicants, only 300 passed the exam, and I secured the 223rd rank. One notable observation from the results is that only eight women passed the exam.

This could be attributed to two factors: either parents are still reluctant to allow their daughters to work away from home, or women may feel insecure about such jobs. Indian girls in small cities are often highly qualified, pursuing higher education in fields like history or languages, which are well-suited for this profession. Despite the high demand for female tour guides, the number of successful female candidates remains low. I am now set to begin a sixteen-week training program, which includes fourteen weeks of classroom instruction and two weeks of touring various monuments in North India with a professor.

After completing this training and tour, another exam will be conducted. Those who pass the exam will undergo an interview, and upon successful completion, a tour guide license will be issued. This training is part of the preparations for the Commonwealth Games in 2010, so it seems likely that the government will not delay the start of the training. However, given the unpredictable nature of government processes, there might still be unforeseen delays. Despite this, I am excited about the training and eager to obtain my license so I can start working as a tour guide as soon as possible.

Temporary guide licence finally received

I finally received my tour guide license after a year of complications. My advocate was exceptional in handling the case; he took legal action against the Ministry of Tourism in Delhi High Court, which resulted in the court ordering the Ministry to issue temporary licenses to all applicants until the final results are declared. My advocate advised me to go to Delhi to collect my license from the Tourism Office.

When I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised not to be asked for a bribe, which was unusual for a government office. They issued me a temporary license valid for one month, which I will need to renew monthly at the same office in Delhi. This license allows me to work as a tour guide for foreigners anywhere in North India. The office issued similar licenses to over 200 people, but this is still far from sufficient; we need at least 2,000 more guides.

My advocate mentioned that if the government doesn’t finalize the results by the time I need to renew my license three times, he plans to sue the government again for a permanent license. According to the law, after working as a temporary employee for 90 days, one can sue for permanent employment. Given the current backlog of four cases in Indian courts, I anticipate it will take at least 30 renewals before a final result is declared.

While I could easily find a job with any travel agency now, I’m not ready to start working as a tour guide just yet. I plan to focus on studying first and then work as a freelance guide. I often receive inquiries about tours in Varanasi and tour guides, and previously advised contacting UP Tourism for assistance. Now, I have the option to work with them directly.

Ministry of Tourism refuses to issue licenses

After a nine-month wait, the Ministry of Tourism organized the tour guide exam in August. However, they imposed an unexpected requirement: applicants had to provide a domicile certificate issued by the court in Gwalior, which was nearly impossible to obtain within the given timeframe since the court typically takes more than a week to process such documents. As a result, more than half of the applicants were unable to participate in the exam. I managed to secure the certificate and participated, but the Ministry’s attempt to reduce the number of applicants did not succeed.

Those who could not take the exam filed a lawsuit against the government in the High Court of Delhi. The court ordered the Tourism Ministry to hold a new exam for the affected applicants. This meant that everyone eventually had the chance to participate. However, immediately after the second exam, the applicants filed another lawsuit, claiming that the second exam was more difficult than the first and demanding a third exam for all participants. I am confident that the government will not be able to accommodate this demand, as doing so would likely lead to further lawsuits from those who took the initial exams.

As a result of these ongoing legal battles, the Ministry is unable to declare the results of either exam. Additionally, there is a pending case in the High Court of Jaipur regarding a previous exam, filed about five years ago, which suggests that it may take another five to six years to resolve the current issues and declare the results. With the Commonwealth Games scheduled for 2010, it seems unlikely that the government will be able to train the tour guides in time. The process involves resolving all legal cases, completing the admission process, conducting classes, and organizing tours. Given the current circumstances, I doubt that the government will be able to prepare the guides before the Games.

Entrance Exam for Tour Guide Training Program

India is set to host the Commonwealth Games in 2010, and the Indian government aims to prepare 1,000 tour guides for the event. I applied for a tour guide license for North India last November. The process involved a written exam, an interview (if I passed the exam), and, if successful, a three-month training program that included classes and a tour of monuments with a professor. The exam, initially scheduled for February, was delayed by nearly nine months. After this lengthy wait, I finally received my admit card. However, there was a new complication.

The admit card came with a letter instructing me to submit a domicile certificate issued by a court in Gwalior within a week—a nearly impossible task since obtaining such a certificate usually takes longer. I contacted the tourism office, which claimed the delay was due to the postage department’s inefficiency. They said the letter had been sent a month prior but was delayed in delivery. My attempts to resolve the issue with my advocate were hampered by a strike of advocates in Benares. Despite my best efforts, it seemed increasingly likely that I would miss the exam.

Desperate, I reached out to a friend of my brother, who was already undergoing training at the institute where I was supposed to submit my documents. He informed me that bringing alternative residential proof, such as a passport, might be acceptable. The government had anticipated fewer than 20,000 applicants but ended up with over 50,000, leading them to issue the domicile requirement to reduce the number of candidates. Despite this, the institute insisted on the domicile certificate.

Determined, I traveled to Gwalior with the necessary documents and a newspaper clipping about the advocate strike. Upon arriving and meeting my brother’s friend, we went to the institute. Initially, they refused to accept my documents, but after significant negotiation, they agreed to accept my ration card, voter ID, and driving license as substitutes. With the documentation issue resolved, I returned to Delhi to wait for the exam. On the day of the exam, which was held in Delhi, I went with my brother’s wife, who had also applied.

I was relieved to see my name on the list of applicants. The exam turned out to be much easier than I had anticipated. I had expected a challenging test, but the questions were straightforward. To my surprise, I even saw a few students asking others for answers during the exam.

London Law Researcher studies Coca-Cola in Mehdiganj

I worked with a law researcher from the University of London as both an assistant and translator. He was interested in the legal aspects of the Coca-Cola issue. Having lived in India for over a year, he knew some Hindi, but not well enough to conduct interviews on his own. He is the president of an NGO called Glocality International, which has offices in London and New Delhi. I worked with him for three days in Varanasi.

Tyler was also involved in some high-profile international law cases. For instance, he and a colleague had sued seven Chinese ministers, including the President and Prime Minister, for the deaths of over a million people in Tibet. He explained that the case was registered in Spain because no other country was willing to accept a case against the Chinese government in their courts.

During our time together, we interviewed numerous villagers, Nandlal Master, and several government officials, including the Regional Pollution Control Officer, Ground Water Authority officials, and District Village Committee officers. Tyler was particularly impressed with how Nandlal and his team were leading their movement. Given that Tyler had only three days and wanted to maximize his interviews, we spent one night at Lok Samiti’s office to speak with Nandlal and his colleagues.

We encountered difficulties with the Regional Pollution Control Officer, who believed his English was sufficient to communicate with Tyler, despite Tyler’s advance notice that I would be assisting. The officer often misunderstood Tyler’s questions but remained overly confident in his responses, attempting to obscure the issues. Tyler was determined to gather as much information as possible.

The situation escalated when Tyler used a voice recorder without informing the officer, leading to a heated exchange. The officer, upon discovering the recording, became hostile and threatened us with police intervention. Tyler responded by stating that he would sue the Pollution Control Department in the Supreme Court of India for corruption related to the Coca-Cola issue. He warned that if the Supreme Court confirmed the corruption, the officers could face jail time, which only intensified the officer’s anger.

Eventually, we left the office, laughing about the tense encounter with the irate officer. It was quite amusing to see a PCS officer so angry but unable to act against us. In contrast, the District Village Committee Officer was very engaged and eager to discuss the Coca-Cola issue. He shared extensive information about the situation and the role of Village Committees, and he promised to provide all necessary documents and support. He was the first government official I had met who seemed genuinely interested in talking to people, possibly due to his interest in conversing with a foreigner.