The Chaos Within - The Dancing Queen of DISHA
We forget sometimes on the project how important writing blogs are. Just now a spate of blogs will follow as we encourage young volunteer writers to step up and document their experiences in their own individualistic style... and we are confident that the blogs will not degenerate into "I can't believe I am in Inidaaaa!" blogs that rave about food and rickshaws and beggars.
Blogs give us an opportunity to share our experiences, and also for some of us, the chance to rant, or vent. Sometimes all I do is rant or vent, and while I am conscious of how it helps me, I often wonder if it just makes people shy away from the Deep Griha blog. I suspect it has done, especially my use of a certain word that can grate when overused. Mea culpa.
And I take this opportunity to apologise to anyone who has been offended by my use of language. That was never the intention, nor was it the intention for me to communicate how frustrated I was... no, the blog just helped me exhale.
Last week we had 5 new fieldworkers join the DISHA team.
Kavita - She lives in Ramtekadi. Her husband died of AIDS related illnesses.
Vaishali - An ex-Deep Griha fieldworker from Bibwewadi. She is open about her HIV+ status.
Deepali - She lives in Ramtekadi. She worked as a doctor's assistant in Ramtekadi.
Sunita - Young mum. Green. Intelligent.
Sheetal - Young mum (19). Talented dancer. Came through the Aadhar Kendra Child Sponsorship Programme. She is a DISHA client.
This team of fieldworkers will work in the Ramtekadi Community with Madhuri as their Field Supervisor. Madhuri was a wonderful and committed fieldworker for two years in Tadiwala Road, and we are sorry to see her move, and will miss her energy on the project. Yet, everyone was very proud when she stood there at the party last Friday on the terrace with her new team, eyes shining as the 100 odd people present - clients, volunteers, visitors - gave them a rousing welcome into the DISHA family.
Madhuri loves to dance. Never have I seen someone so restless when music is played. When the time came she stood aside unsure how she should behave now that she was a supervisor. Should this onerous task somehow rob her of the joy of uninhibited movement? I ordered the five new fieldworkers on to the dance floor and then turned to Madhuri and gave the express order that they did not stop dancing until I said so. She was on the floor in a flash! Big smile. Hips unleashed.
Many on the DISHA team are older than I am, still... it was pride I felt watching this young woman shepherd her team for the last week, and then feel comfortable enough in her authority to dance with them. Madhuri has been my teacher like many of my team. She taught me that working late while possible for a young woman from Tadiwala Road, wasn't always popular with mothers-in-law who disapproved of a daughter-in-law forgetting her place. She reminded me that intelligence and wit is both universal and particular and by no means limited to a priveleged education. Madhuri taught me, like many have, that often a smile helps defuse situations when words fail miserably.
I looked around, and watched the dance take everyone away. I watched brows un-crease and forget, eyes light up, and faces contort and lips pucker in efforts to keep up with flailing limbs. Sweat began to drip drip on this hot March (August would have sounded better) night under flickering stars obscured by a city's pollution. But none of us cared. None of us gave a fuck.
Least of all Madhuri. The Dancing Queen of DISHA. We will miss her at Tadiwala Road, but we look forward to her work in Ramtekadi, and we are confident that she will make that community wake up to the dance within.
Blogs give us an opportunity to share our experiences, and also for some of us, the chance to rant, or vent. Sometimes all I do is rant or vent, and while I am conscious of how it helps me, I often wonder if it just makes people shy away from the Deep Griha blog. I suspect it has done, especially my use of a certain word that can grate when overused. Mea culpa.
And I take this opportunity to apologise to anyone who has been offended by my use of language. That was never the intention, nor was it the intention for me to communicate how frustrated I was... no, the blog just helped me exhale.
Last week we had 5 new fieldworkers join the DISHA team.
Kavita - She lives in Ramtekadi. Her husband died of AIDS related illnesses.
Vaishali - An ex-Deep Griha fieldworker from Bibwewadi. She is open about her HIV+ status.
Deepali - She lives in Ramtekadi. She worked as a doctor's assistant in Ramtekadi.
Sunita - Young mum. Green. Intelligent.
Sheetal - Young mum (19). Talented dancer. Came through the Aadhar Kendra Child Sponsorship Programme. She is a DISHA client.
This team of fieldworkers will work in the Ramtekadi Community with Madhuri as their Field Supervisor. Madhuri was a wonderful and committed fieldworker for two years in Tadiwala Road, and we are sorry to see her move, and will miss her energy on the project. Yet, everyone was very proud when she stood there at the party last Friday on the terrace with her new team, eyes shining as the 100 odd people present - clients, volunteers, visitors - gave them a rousing welcome into the DISHA family.
Madhuri loves to dance. Never have I seen someone so restless when music is played. When the time came she stood aside unsure how she should behave now that she was a supervisor. Should this onerous task somehow rob her of the joy of uninhibited movement? I ordered the five new fieldworkers on to the dance floor and then turned to Madhuri and gave the express order that they did not stop dancing until I said so. She was on the floor in a flash! Big smile. Hips unleashed.
Many on the DISHA team are older than I am, still... it was pride I felt watching this young woman shepherd her team for the last week, and then feel comfortable enough in her authority to dance with them. Madhuri has been my teacher like many of my team. She taught me that working late while possible for a young woman from Tadiwala Road, wasn't always popular with mothers-in-law who disapproved of a daughter-in-law forgetting her place. She reminded me that intelligence and wit is both universal and particular and by no means limited to a priveleged education. Madhuri taught me, like many have, that often a smile helps defuse situations when words fail miserably.
I looked around, and watched the dance take everyone away. I watched brows un-crease and forget, eyes light up, and faces contort and lips pucker in efforts to keep up with flailing limbs. Sweat began to drip drip on this hot March (August would have sounded better) night under flickering stars obscured by a city's pollution. But none of us cared. None of us gave a fuck.
Least of all Madhuri. The Dancing Queen of DISHA. We will miss her at Tadiwala Road, but we look forward to her work in Ramtekadi, and we are confident that she will make that community wake up to the dance within.
posted by Deep Griha at 1:55 am
1 Comments:
You certainly bring the scene to life, Hans. Do you read your comments by the way? Send me an email if you do. I'd like to hear from you if you have time. Wuns
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