Longitude

By: Joel Post (March 2009 Gummallapadu Village Volunteer)

When one thinks about southern India, snow doesn’t usually come to mind, but there it was all around me: snow drifts, avalanches, snow cones…but I am getting ahead of myself.

The first and last days of camp were the most memorable for me. Let’s start with getting to GP village. Our group woke up on the morning of March 22nd on the night train from Hyderabad. I had fun hanging out the side of the train, watching the lush landscape rush by and reminiscing about the trip to that point. Some snapshot memories: watching ‘Beverly Hills Chihuahua’ and eating on the plane before it even took off, wild dogs in the terminal, a 10-hour wait at Delhi airport, loss of Head and Shoulders shampoo, some group members being called ‘losers’ because they lost .01% from a rival money exchange, impromptu dancing and now I’m just rambling.

After arriving in the town of Eluru our group checked into the hotel and had a quick brunch. Then it was time to change into work gear and head to GP village. As our van pulled into town I was treated to a child beaming a smile at me with teeth as white as the first snow of northern Japan. Suddenly one child was two. Two became three. Three became twenty. By the time the van stopped our group was surrounded.

Our goal was to reach a small house for a quick meeting. Wading through the crowd was slow-going, much like walking through deep snow drifts back home. At the house we received an immaculate reception from our guide Ravi. He told us of the first volunteer in the program. He was a Canadian man who originally just wanted to see the village. He saw one widow’s hut that wasn’t complete and decided to help with just a small donation. By hard work and word-of-mouth, that small donation turned into several more donations, which turned into more volunteers, who bring more donations and the snowball continues to roll downhill.

Work was physically demanding but enjoyable. We passed bricks and trays of concrete, helped with the mortar, played with the children and sometimes just got in the way. After a long day of work in the sun, I was always ready for a cool drink or frozen snow cone for the return trip to the hotel. After a few days of this cycle our week was up. It was time to return to Japan just when we were beginning to feel like a legitimate part of the community. At first the villagers were just a crowd but now they were as individual as snowflakes. After some speeches and dancing it was time to say goodbye. I am usually a fairly cold-hearted individual, but even I was caught up in an avalanche of emotion while giving a last hug or kiss to the children we had all come to love. The metaphors may be forced but the message is real: we helped with building shelter for several families who are too often persecuted in their community. With more volunteers the village can build extra houses and create better awareness of the injustices heaped upon the Dalit people everyday. One person, one donation really can make a difference. I only hope more people join this program so they can have as rich of an experience as I have been fortunate to receive.