Pictures are worth a thousand words

When I first picked up this project of starting the Youth Resource Center, I was among the skeptics who questioned about the purpose and effectiveness of the center. A center for the youth to come and play and receive some vocational trainings? Well that’s nice but how does this tie in with empowering the youth?

What changed my pessimistic view and gave me a light of hope is my visit to one of the Youth Resource Centers in a rural village near Udaipur.

The village is located about an hour away from Udaipur. I visited the center twice, once in mid-June and once recently. What I saw on my way to the village recently took me by surprise. I remember back in mid-June when people were praying for the rain as the lakes around the city were dried up and the once beautiful tourist spots were turned into cricket fields. On the way to the village, I saw the trees on the hills dried up and all I could see was a brownish gray vastness. Someone told me that with one drop of rain the whole hill will come alive. Recently I saw that magical transformation happen. The once gray and brownish vastness has turned into a mosaic of different shades of green and yellow. As I listened to the Hindi music playing on the bus and a cool breeze touched my cheeks, I really felt that "water is the source of life.”

I went back to the center for the second time with an important purpose in mind. The first time I visited center, I was shown the various works of the youth ranging from glass paintings, tiny arts and crafts to the magazine published by the youth. These were no doubt amazing works, but what really grabbed my attention were the photos that the youth took after receiving a photography workshop. The photos told so many stories; a picture of the view of the grand palace hotel in the area was juxtaposed with the locals wearing worn out saris on the streets, carrying baskets, who would never be given the chance to even see the lobby of the hotel; a picture of a wooden table covered in a turquoise silk cloth with offerings and other religious ceremonial equipments on it, with bright magenta flower petals spread all over the table and the floor – a representation of the culture and the religious life in the area.

This reminded me of the documentary “Born into Brothels” which documented how the photographer Zana Briski taught the children who were born in brothels in Calcutta photography skills in order to give them self-confidence and allow the outsiders to see the tabooed red-light district from the children’s eyes. The photographs they took were exhibited and are even on sale on the website of the non-profit “Kids with Cameras.” The education level of these village youth may not be very high but with their new acquired skill, they now possess the tool needed to express their opinion and to raise issues in their community. Pictures may even be a better medium to present these issues, considering the low level of education of the majority of the villagers.

I went back to the village wanting to ask the youth if they would like to submit their photos to online photo contests so that an even larger audience can see their work. They were very interested in doing so and I will be going back to village next week to talk directly to the young photographers. Even if photography skills wouldn’t bring them income, it gives them a sense of self-worth and a sense that they are part of the community. The moral of the lesson that I learned is that empowering the youth is not just about giving them vocational trainings that would give them economic power; it is also about training them on critical thinking skills and social responsibilities so that one day they can become leaders of their own community.

The Magical Powder!

For the past few days I’ve been getting bitten by mosquitoes and ants. Yes, ants. I don’t know since when did human flesh become a part of an ant’s diet but I have around 8 ant bites at the moment. This morning, I’ve discovered the ants’ center hubs: one under my bed and one under the dresser. The ants under the dresser were having a feast on this dead moth, a pretty brutal sight. The thought of terminating all the ants by hand…or some other flat surface really did not appeal to me, so I asked my host mom for a bug spray. Instead, she came back with some turmeric powder. She spread the powder over the trail that the ants made. According to her, in India people don’t like to kill ants because ants are considered to be tiny hardworking creatures. Instead of killing the ants, turmeric is used because ants dislike its strong scent.

During my stay here I’ve also discovered the other magical powers of turmeric: 1) it’s what turns every India dish YELLOW. 2) it’s a natural antiseptic 3) it helps with stomach problems and other digestive problems.

While double-checking the facts on Wikipeida (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turmeric), I found out that turmeric is used in Japan too, as a dietary supplement, known in Japanese as “ukon.” “Ukon” has been a trendy dietary supplement for the past few years in Japan along with other traditional dietary supplements such as black soybeans, collagen, wheat germ and what not. It's interesting how a fancy dietary supplement in a country like Japan is the most commonly used spice and traditinoal medicine in Indian households, almost accessible to every household from the rich to the poor.

And thanks to the magical power of turmeric, the ants did go away.

Suraaj Mukhi

During the Rakhi making workshop, I told Santosh that I would like to make a Rakhi too. One girl named Payal sprung into action and hurried inside to get the threads and other equipments needed. Listening to the conversation between Santosh and the other girls, Payal is a lively character in this youth center, very quick at picking up new things (she was doing crochet before getting up and later brought out a cross stitch of a rose that she made and not to mention the Rakhis!).

She helped me make the base string of the Rakhi by hooking one end of a thread on her big toe and her second finger and wrapping the thread round and round. She then gave one side of the bundle to Santosh and held the other side herself. Santosh started twisting the string in one direction and Payal in the opposite direction. After a while, the bundle of strings was tightened up to a twisted bundle and surprisingly the twists remained even after they let go of their fingers.



Payal then started making the main decoration on the Rakhi. She started it off but let me brush the fringes with a toothbrush and glue the center ornament to finish it off. The completed Rakhi was beautiful. I placed the Rakhi on the carpet and took a picture of it. It’s like a flower I said. My supervisor translated it into Hindi. Payal then said “Suraaj Muki!” I recognized “suraaj” which means sun. Oh! Sunflower? I asked. They all nodded and smiled.


While I was talking to the other girls, Payal started to make another green Rakhi and then another one with beads. Santosh asked me which one I wanted and I pointed out I want the first one which I made. I looked at Payal and she seemed a little disappointed that I didn’t pick her green one. She then offered to “package” the Rakhi since it was a gift. I watched her while she set on her task. Although I told her I only wanted the yellow one, she secretly found a plastic bag that was obviously too big for one Rakhi and placed all three Rakhis in it to see if they all fit. The packaging was done in a very simple way: with the backside of a poster paper, a plastic bag that originally contained the beads, and some staples. She looked at her finished product with satisfaction and hand it to me. When I told her it’s “bahut acha” (very nice) she smiled at me shyly.


After sitting there for the entire afternoon making Rakhis and doing crochet with the girls, I found out that what they were learning to make didn’t matter to them that much. It was the talks and the laughter and the exchange of kindness that took place during these workshops, which gave them a temporary break from their mundane routine of school, house chores and work in the fields, that made them keep on coming back.

A Story from Madri

Madri is a little village located 2 hours away from the city Udaipur. The purpose of my visit to Madri today was to see the youth resource center and talk to the youth volunteers to gain new insights for the project I’m currently working on. We arrived around 10am, and were greeted by the youth resource center volunteer Santosh with her warm smile. She told us that there will be a Raki making workshop today and many girls will show up so it will be a good opportunity for us to see how the center functions and to interact with the youth. I’ve noticed that when Santosh talks to the youth around her she has this easy-going and enthusiastic tone that makes her seems to be at ease with every youth. I was wondering whether she was previously involved in education or any other jobs that involved youth.


After talking to her, I found out that she first got involved with my NGO back in her hometown Kelwara. She attended a patchwork workshop that was run by the NGO. Although patchwork turned out to be not her thing, later on when the NGO opened a theatre workshop in the area, she became very involved. Because of her talent, she was sent to Ahmedabad, a city in the neighboring province to receive further trainings. Over there she had the opportunity to write scripts on community issues and perform them in different villages. Because of her lively character, she was encouraged to apply for the position of a YRC volunteer in Delwara. She eventually got the job there and 2 years ago was transferred to the current center. I asked if she did a theater workshop here or not. She said only once but there was not enough interest. I asked her whether she would like to do further studies in theaters, and she responded with a firm and passionate yes.

I later found out that she’s 22 years old. If she were born in another time and place, perhaps she would be a senior in a college pursuing her theater degree now. Instead she is working as a youth center volunteer trying to support her 2 younger siblings with her minimum salary, living alone in a village far away from home. I’ve been looking at children in the slum areas and beggars on the streets for the past 10 weeks but poverty was still in the distance. Today when I talked to Santosh, someone my age who is leading a completely different life from mine, poverty and inequality was closer than ever. I can’t help but ask myself, why her?