"No matter where I went, I always loved being back to Himachal"

My internship in India was comparatively short but incredibly eventful time. Though I stayed in India for 2 months only it feels like spent here much longer time. Every week was full of events, both work related activities and personal joy. As a MicroEmpowerED Project Manager in Rait Center within two months my partner and I managed to kick off a new microfinance activity, i.e. stitching self-learning platform, take mushroom farming – the other microfinance activity that has been already in place – to the new stage and we are holding the new training for mushroom farmers in couple of hours from the moment when I started writing this post. I’ve been involved in SWASH project activities, Girls Club and Fun Club, and even visited migrant camp in Rajhol where we teach those who are deprived from formal school education basic literacy (it is surprising how wide is the age range of our students in Rajhol). I’ve prepared monitoring plan and evaluation design for microfinance activities in Rait that can serve as an example and template for other projects in EduCARE. Initially monitoring and evaluation (M&E) was my focus as I plan to center my career in international development on these activities, but to my own surprise I got so engaged with project activities that it even makes me reconsider my career focus.

Mila during her trip to Manali

Another factor that has made my work experience in EduCARE very diverse is that I was part time Operations Assistance – that was an opportunity for me to polish my admin and NGO management knowledge and skills. Though I prioritized microfinance in-field activities over any other job I was doing in EduCARE, I’m very glad I managed to contribute to other areas of the organization’s work.

I was extremely lucky to work with fantastic team of interns. We worked together, we helped each other, we lived together, we shared meals, we traveled together, we got into all sort of adventures together – the people I met made my experience in India rich and so enjoyable.

The way one gets engaged with the community is fascinating. I transformed from being basically lost in our small village to not being able to make a 10 min walk to the market without stopping to talk to one of the villagers. The process of integration with the community was quite natural for me. My job duties involved interacting with the community members we already work with as well as to reach out to wider audience. Slowly step-by-step my interaction circle in Rait extended significantly. Working with kids and girls also contributed to smoother community integration.

Mila with three members of the community

Apart from work in just two months I’ve visited six different states, and saw the most treasured spots in India (Goa, Amritsar, Jaipur, Agra, Delhi, Manali, and other amazing places). Every place I’ve visited for work or leisure purposes is fascinating and unique. And every time I had the feeling that I don’t have enough time to get better understanding of new places I visit and people I meet. Still, no matter where I went I always loved being back to Himachal Pradesh, to the village of Rait.

Amazing view of the mountains from Rait

Mila Pestun - Belarus

Microfinance project manager, Rait (Himachal Pradesh)

The bureaucracy of a stolen passport

When friends at home warned me of the bureaucracy in India I would just nod, fully expecting to never have to face the Indian legal system, I was, after all, not planning on doing anything wrong. However, one moment of distraction in Delhi left me without my wallet and therefore no passport, visa, driving licence or credit card. The Western part of me wanted to get everything done as quickly as possible, however, as I quickly found the Indian ‘no problem’ mentality works in precisely the opposite way.

Throughout my various visits to the embassy and registration offices it has seemed that my lack of passport is one of their last concerns. Many other factors have been more of a discussion to them, for example how much my tuc-tuc cost to get to the police station, the wording of the letter from the embassy (It was addressed ‘Dear Sir’ which they didn’t like), and finally the fact that I was not Irish, have all proved to be talking points as my documents were checked and disputed at every stage.

My first port of call was the police station to log the complaint and receive a document to then take to the embassy. Arriving at the police station was a slight shock in itself. The main desk is right next to a police cell, complete with toilet, open to the entire waiting room; to the cell’s side is the ‘women’s counselling area’- a concrete bench, again completely open to the entire room. This part of the process was the most frustrating, the combination of the police talking across me due to my being female and accompanied by a male, and the language barrier meant that it took 3 hours for one piece of paper to be printed.

After this it was off to the embassy to get my emergency documents, where I found that they had omitted to tell me that I would have to pay £95; queue a desperate call to my mother at 5am UK time begging for money. Proudly in possession of my little gold booklet I felt that all was done and I could relax, but it was far from over.

The other problem that happens when your wallet is stolen is that your money goes missing along with it. My parents sent money, but, no matter how shady Western Union’s reputation is they still are not so keen when a white girl lacking in both a passport and visa, (I presume I must have looked like an illegal immigrant by this point) asks for money to be handed over. My organisation before my trip paid off and the copy of my passport and visa were accepted, and photocopied for me another couple of times just for good measure.

The last document needed for me to travel back to the UK was an exit permit, something provided at the Foreign Registration Office. Unfortunately I didn’t realise I had booked an appointment with the Dharamsala office, and so turned up at the office in Delhi when it was closed. The soldier (With a very large gun strapped to his back) told me I couldn’t go in and seemed very confused when he saw my appointment was indeed booked for the Saturday. A cleaner from the office then called a man, who turned up on his motorcycle, soaking wet from the monsoon rain who then explained to me that I had not booked an appointment with them and that I would have to travel back to Naddi. This man was taking none of my nonsense, made clear when he told me ‘madam you need to calm down, I can’t understand you when you cry’. Having had the process explained to me I was feeling better, and now well in to the Indian mind set that because I wasn’t leaving the country for another 2 months it didn’t really matter whether or not I had papers to board a plane.

Finally I travelled back to the Dharamsala office, where I was told that I would not be given papers until two weeks before I travelled, as they needed to give me police clearance before I left the country. Something that could not yet be granted as I still have time to go on a massive crime spree before my flight. After yet more photocopies of documents being taken I was told I had to go and speak to their boss, an appointment that I felt may have had some important use, however, it was just me going to exchange pleasantries with an army general, and his commenting on my lack of Irish accent (I still am unsure why they thought I was Irish). So, with a wobble of the head and another confirmation that it was ‘no problem’ I am still in India, still it seems to me with out a visa but apparently with no upcoming problems to prevent my returning to the UK.

Although a hassle, the experience has made me more understanding of just how India works, and how in a country with a distinct lack of Internet and electricity everything will get sorted, it all just takes a bit more time. What it all comes down to in the end though is that there will always be someone there who will try and help you, even if you cant understand a word they are saying.

Rachel's new passport 

P.S. The day after I finished writing this I had a call from the embassy. Someone had handed in my wallet (Money gone) but with passport, card and driving license still inside. Unfortunately because I acted so quickly my passport and card have been cancelled and so I cannot use them, but I can still recover my licence and will have my passport cut and sent to my home, which means I have the more sentimental part of the stamps and visas I have collected. I know they will never read this but I am eternally grateful for their kindness, and for the assistance and concern I have received from everyone who has helped me.

Rachel Parry - UK 

Microfinance project manager, Punjab

The Queen of the Road

It has been now 2 months that I’ve arrived to India and more specifically Punjab, enough time to get to know the camps, the neighbours, the village and region and not enough yet to still be fascinated by little things of everyday life here. And surprisingly my heart has settled down to one thing, the bus.

They just look like beauty pageant competitors, to who will have the most patriotic painting, the most elegant name as Queen of the Road, the most flowery decorations, the most colourful neon’s. That’s only the tip of the iceberg.

I usually get particularly silent on bus rides, might they be for 10 minutes or 6 hours. I watch what is going out around me. You can meet anyone on the bus, the neighbour with who you start a meaningless conversation about weather, the students having a last look at their manuals before class, the lady and her child with who you share a warm smile, the ticket guy in great performance of his balance skills as the bus goes through rough roads, the old lady who will thank you for let her your place so many times it becomes uncomfortable, the shadow of workers hanging huge bags on the roof, the old man who will talk continuously despite your interrogative and lost looks.

But mostly, it’s outside that I’m staring at. I try to grab a glimpse of the so many landscapes we go through. Nothing is more captivating for me than seeing people in their daily routine for the quarter of a second. And nothing empties more the head than seeing the landscape scrolling through the widow from the fields and jungles of Punjab to the mountains of Himachal Pradesh, from villages as Dholbaha to cities as Hoshiarpur, from the waste dumps and migrant camps around Hariana to the breathtaking view of Naddi.

So now you are warned, I’m a terrible travelling buddy!

Claire de Nale, France

Microfinance Project Manager, Punjab