A visit to DROPSS 5th March - Laura's entry

How does one blog about an experience that one has not yet fully processed? Despite the fact that this blog is 5 days late and I have Jim tapping me on the shoulder and wondering where it is and why I haven’t uploaded it yet, I have struggled to put to ‘paper’ my experience of last Friday. Has the experience, the lessons that were there to be learnt, been properly digested, swallowed or even tasted? Ummm... a sense of going about this in completely the wrong order!

Last Friday we visited an organisation called Dropss (Development for rural oppressed people’s service society). Dropss offers women a practical way to gain independence and confidence. Again I think I may have dived into the wrong order of things. These are the outcomes after all, the impact of the work being done. Dropss works with mainly Muslim women whose husbands (and indeed as we discovered, others in the community) would rather they stay at home then do something other than marry and produce children. Mallika, the founder of Dropss set up the organisation to offer viable livelihoods option to women in the community. So every day a group of women come to this building and sit around sewing machines or on the floor and weave and embroider and sew. They are making saris that they can sell to the market, they are proud of their work and keen to show us chubby slow-fingered westerners how to sew these minute and intricate patterns that they weave into the material.

On entering their building, two of us immediately admired the square roofless space in the centre, where the sun light scorches through and which two of us thought such a lovely and thoughtful structure. It was only to be later when we visited one of the women’s houses who had set up an independent business making sari’s, and whose house had the same structure, that we learnt that this design had been intended to offer home-bound Muslim women a little experience of the outside. This little square place for the women’s great-grandmother had been both her garden and her street. It was something of a cruel taunt, a slag in a tight leash. A chance to smell what freedom might feel like. Now whilst I am not sure if I am tiptoeing dangerously close to a volatile subject, when you are literally standing on it, it is hard not to be moved. Not just as a woman, but as a human. It made me wonder how many women dreamt of more.

The beauty of what Mallika has created is a workable, scalable model for women to take control of their future. And the women that we met and spoke with are hungry for more. Impatient to learn and develop their skills so that they can spread their model to the next generation.

When I asked one of the women, Noor Asmah, who is the same age as with me, 26, except married with two children, both boys, a 6 year old and a 2 year old, if she missed her husband when he went away for work, it was with a laugh that she responded. Which in turn, made me laugh as well.

‘No!’ she emphasised with a wave of her hand. And the other two women we were sitting with all laughed as well. And yet a deeper current ran under this light-hearted exchange between women laughing at having some space without men in their life. It was that here in this centre that Mallika has created with Dropss, one had the sense that these women could be themselves. Asmah could be the intelligent, driven and ambitious woman I could see in front of me. As opposed to being subjected to a role that perhaps inhibited that.
Her friend, Noor Fathima was keen to show me her embroidery book. Pages of embroidered flowers and birds. One sensed this was a gentle soul, keen to have encouragement that her work was of value. We swapped note pads and wrote our ‘autographs’ in each other’s, before the meeting was called.

To illustrate the level of engagement in the room, the burning curiosity there was one example that stood out to me. As is the custom with each organisation we visit, we go around the circle and introduce ourselves. After we had gone through, Vanu went on to speak in general as two other members of the group stood on the outside. Sonia and Reece are recording the journey for Unltd via film and camera, this means that of course quite often they stand on the periperhery so they have the freedom to move around. Seeing that they hadn’t been included in the introductions, there was a very pointed turn in their direction, a sort of no, we do not proceed until everyone has been introduced. It felt not that we were dictating the order of the day, but quite correctly that the leadership was coming from them. Sonia and Reece were called over and they did their introductions as well and we continued. But watching this small little moment just fascinated me. Watching the tidal movement of the women having their say, being present to the truth and wanting more than us, who for a moment were sort of oh okay lets just proceed. It made me feel like I was watching something, however small, that was deeply significant. These women were in control and not afraid to show it.
Later one of the questions we asked them was how their lives had changed as a result of the work they did. The answer from a young women sitting near the front was that before they had been a culture of dependency. Before they would never have the courage to come to a meeting like this. They spoke of how there was a growing respect in the community about the work that they did and how their goal is to teach the next generation. I say goal and not dream, as dreams can sometimes feel as if they exist in other worlds. Goals happen in this world. And I think that there was unanimous agreement amongst us that this model, this project was one that had every chance of success, as long as they are able to focus on their market, gain some support from design and marketing experts and thus grow. But more than this, these women are committed to this project. This vital factor I would say is the life blood of any successful development project. It highlighted to me the importance of something a Cambodian professor I met in Phnom Penh recently said, that ‘until you have happy humans, you cannot have happy projects.’ Projects imposed from the outside can shrivel to a halt if the people you are working with are not engaged. With Dropss the women’s spirit, commitment, skills and utter conviction in their work is what will propel them forward. I found this inspiring and indeed a deep lesson to sink into for any work I may do in the future.
Lunch was served on banana skins. We ate in silence: the sound of a good meal. Afterwards we drove in tuk-tuk’s to visit another woman’s house for some sprite, biscuits and fruit and a mini sari fashion show where I found myself being dressed in a sari of my favourite colour – a deep purple. It is always interesting how clothes can have a different effect on you. A flowing skirt can make me just want to twirl and twirl and a high necked top makes me feel very straight, serious. The sari ensemble made me feel so shy. Inhibited. Unsure and timid. It was a relief to get it off if I am honest.
On the journey to Naggapattinum we stopped off at a Temple. I wandered (or wondered?) off by myself and met a Brahmin monk called Ganesh. He sort of came up in a manner that made me think of the word ‘jaunty.’ Like a Ghandi figure who had gone a bit sqew wiffy. When I had circled the temple, we bumped into each other again and he asked if he could take the flower I had brought for 20rps at the entrance. I said of course and handed it to him and he walked off quickly and beckoned for me to follow him. By the time I had caught up with him to the shrine he seemed to guard, I saw that he had fashioned my flower into a beautiful eccentric hat for the Ganesh statue from which he took his namesake. It was wonderfully wacky and made me smile. He then came up and shared his Bob Marley philosophy of ‘Don’t worry, Be Happy.’ This is my philosophy he said. And then more seriously and quietly he went on to repeat the words of my favourite mantra. Om Namah Shivaya, which means I bow to Shiva, who represents the supreme reality, the inner self. It is the name given to the consciousness that dwells in us all. And in the way he spoke the mantra, his eyes still, his face quite serious and calm I felt a more real connection to him then when he was quoting Mr. Marley. This came from within.
From the temple we then had a four hour journey to our next hotel. I have always loved long traveling times as they provide such golden moments to sit beside someone and really get to talk. To share. I spent most of this journey chatting to Heather and our conversation was just another testament to me of the power of this Learning Journey. I think most of us on this trip feel that our hearts are completely interlinked with our heads in our careers. Our jobs are the stuff that make our hearts beat and yet at the same time, utterly engage and engross our heads. Indeed this was pretty much the answer that Sue gave to one of the young women who asked us at Dropss if we were happy in our jobs. Yes Sue had answered, yes we are. Our heads and our hearts are very much together. So on the long road jourmeys we have been making, sitting next to someone else whose own journey has been very much led by their heart, it is but a joy to exchange stories, and be open to wherever that may take you.
I am aware that this is a whopping blog. My apologies. And I am perhaps even more aware that the next part of this blog no doubt sounds trite and superficial. But it is a memory in my mind and so it is one I will share to round off this blurbish about last Friday. Arriving at our hotel The Bungalow on the Beach in Tranquebar, there was an almost childlike gallop of excitement as Sue, Cath, Will and I rushed to each other’s giant big whopping rainbow coloured rooms. Built in the 17th Century, each of our cave like rooms was painted in colours you see in a Chagall or Matisse painting. Vibrant, full of spirit and soul. Pinks, greens, burnt copper reds and turquoise. The colour of the sea we dream about. Suffice to say when I spoke on the phone to one of my colleagues back in London attempting to give a brief summary of the trip with the sound of the crashing waves and laughter of the table in the background, I think it was a moment when the line between the heart and the head, the sense of freedom and happiness and duty seemed very blurred indeed.