Archive for the ‘Bissamcuttack’ Category

The day the smartphone died

Bye bye Mr iPhone five

Took my mobile to the charger

But the battery was dry

Them good ‘lol kids were drinking

Lime juice with ice

Singing this’ll be the day the smartphone died….

(Yes, yes my sincere apologies to Don McLean).

Thanks to A and P visiting, we have three wonderful musketeers at home for a few days. And thanks to them, I spent a lovely day hill climbing, eating pink pasta and ice cream. And I managed to forget that today was the day my smartphone died. No email, no messages, no what’s app, no hotspots and life is sailing along just fine. Possibly with a little more focus and less distraction from a phone buzzing right in the middle of a discussion.  Isn’t it strange that a vibrating mobile with a call or message from someone far away often takes priority over the human being standing right in front of you!

Of course, all technology in my life hasn’t given up the ghost, I still have my sturdy old dumb phone to make calls, and I’m still able to blog! So here are a few images of life from the top of the hill behind our house… green green hills, the mighty Niyamgiri mountain in the distance against a blue blue sky. The yellow paddy fields ready for harvesting and the brown fields of stalks where the harvest is over and rice has been threshed and stored. And a sneak preview of the monster size new hospital buildings coming up here – 43k of new patient care space, with operation theatres, critical care areas, diagnostics and patient consultation spaces.


Organic Numero Uno

Today we celebrated a happy one year anniversary – one year of our fantastic Sunday Organic Market. After a few rounds of discussions last July we flagged off with Living Farms, our inspiring friends, and of course, our heros, organic farmers of Bc and Ch blocks. We slowly go to know them, their names, the villages and communities they come from. The kinds of veggies they grow. Suresan, who would bring something new every week, ferns, flowers, roots. And who’s dad would answer the many questions we came up with. Indro, who drives all the way from P on his little moped. Banamali and Ramesh who hosted our visit to their farms and made us flavoured ragi-tea! And of course, the gang from K and a few of our alumni. Amosh has now joined Rayagada college, following in his brothers footsteps.

So for the last year, every Sunday we have woken up to a feast of colour and freshness. “Poison-free” food is what they call it. Dramatic but true! They grow only local vegetable, from which the seeds can be saved for next year. And we’ve managed just fine without capsicum or cauliflower or carrots. We’ve learnt about the seasonality of our food – jhudungo (cow pea) which is planted on the slopes.   Luscious red tomatoes in winter. Green leafy veggies of all kinds. Round roots and tubular tubers. Cinderella-sized pumpkins which can be dried and stored for a rainy day. Corn on the cob, yellow hiding in a green shell. Stringy beans, broad beans, gourds, light greens, bright greens, royal purples. And of course the omnipresent brinjals, big, small, long, fat, bitter, sweet, green and stripy, aubergine purple.

Today we meet to celebrate before getting down to business. Speaking of business, no we are not a sustainable market in the capitalist sense. And we are not likely to be in future either. J and A currently subside a big chunk of produce which goes up to the school or patient kitchens. The farmers travel miles on bumpy or non-existant roads by bicycle or motorbike to get to us. They are dwarfed by their big sacks of vegetables. Our people sometimes forget to bring their shopping bags, so we keep running home to bring  bags or boxes. Friendly (and endangered) snakes sometimes take up residence in the big blue tarp that is stored under the stairs. We have to keep bartering for change, especially thanks to demonetisation. We’ve had our share of ups and downs.

But we made it so far. 27 farmers and about the same number of staff families. More if you count the hostels kitchens. All eating some portion of healthy, fresh, locally grown produce. Crossing the artificial boundaries of class, occupation, language, educational status. Building relationships with love and respect. And a lot of yummy food! Numero Uno on my list of achievements today!

Soapy twists and squeaky turns

A few months ago, in a fit of creativeness, I ordered a block of ‘melt and pour’ soap. Soapy Twists is a company that makes and sells in India and the glycerine M&P soap arrived promptly by post. Sadly, the creative dust got buried under the carpet of work and routine.

But yesterday, I visited K, where our friends farm organically, live sustainably and save thousands of paddy seeds in beautiful mud pots. So this week, making soap is my small contribution to sustainablity – I was inspired to melt and pour!
M&P is also known as the lazy way to making soap. The ‘real’ way would be the Hot or Cold Process, which combines a base with a fat in the process of saponification. Some faint bell rings in memories from chemistry classes in high school. Not that I made the connections between classroom science and the multinational FMCG companies making profits peddling smaller and ‘cheaper’ bars of soap. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed to know fantastic groups in South India, local women’s groups, who make handmade soap with coconut oil. I still swear by them, but M&P is proving to be a fun supplement!

Today I chose oatmeal-honey and mint-aloe vera from the garden. Not having rubbing alocohol or silicone moulds wasn’t too much of an obstacle. I reused Amul buttermilk cartons, 200 ml tetrapacks, with a little tape over the hole for the straw. Here are the results!

Mercy’s Moist Mochalate Cake

Last week at G’s farewell dinner, I was put in charge of making his favourite chocolate cake. Since I had spent most of the day worrying about value added and works contract and goods and services and other such taxes, and how they would affect my project here, I decided to play it safe and go with an easy, never-fail recipe.  From the scribbles at the back of her well used recipe book, here’s Mercy’s Moist Mochalate Cake.

Dry Ingredients:

2 cups flour (atta works well too)

2  cups sugar (this is not a recipe for the faint hearted!)

3/4 cup cocoa powder

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

1 big pinch of salt

Wet ingredients:

1 cup oil

1 cup hot black coffee

1 cup milk

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla essence (which as usual I didn’t have)

Mix the dry ingredients together well. Add the wet ingredients, eggs last, and mix well till smooth. The batter is thin and runny. Bake at 180 degrees C for 20-30 minutes. It rises a bit so use 2 cake tins if needed.

Ice with cream cheese frosting. Or my Indian version with hung curd and powdered sugar.

Easy Peasy. I iced only one of the two cakes and tried to save the second for A and the kids from K high school. But no such luck. It all disappeared too quickly, so I made another quick batch later! Stay well     G, drive safe and come back soon!

Tangled up in…Orange

For the last couple of weeks, our Sunday organic farmers market green has been brightened up with splashes of orange pumpkins. So it’s been pumpkin cake, pumpkin curry, pumpkin soup, pumpkin pasta and even pumpkin spice latte!   We’ve been completely tangled up in orange (apologies to Jokerman and his prize)

My current favourite is an easy recipe from natashaskitchen. A’s mom has a very similar recipe with more egg and less oil. Either way you can’t go wrong. The cake is moist, sweet and pumpkin-y. The spices smell heavenly, taste divine. And since getting cream cheese or butter takes an extra herculean effort, a simple powered sugar dusting tops it off perfectly. So, Mr Tambourine man, play a song for me, I’m not sleepy and I’m eating pumpkin cake…

Mix dry ingredients :

2 cups atta

1and1/2 cups sugar or powdered jaggery

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp powdered spices (cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg are my favourites)

A pinch of salt

Mix wet ingredients :

3 eggs

3/4 cup oil

1/4 cup curd or buttermilk

2 cups of pumpkin purée

Mix well. Combine the dry and wet ingredients. Fold together gently, do not over mix.

Bake at 180 C for 30 mins or till the top is golden amber and a knife inserted into the middle comes out cleanly.

Ice with cream cheese frosting or dust lightly with powdered sugar.

The Great Red Spot

Today is Menstrual Hygiene Day, so no, I don’t mean the huge storm on Jupiter, light years away, that gives the planet its beautiful colour and wavy designs. I mean the once-a-month, for 45 years of a woman’s life great red spot. Period, crimson wave, red moon rising, leak week and another 5000 slang words and euphemisms we use to describe menstruation. MHD_fullcolor

Over the last two years, I’ve become intensely aware of issues surrounding menstruation. Perhaps I should rephrase that, I’ve been forced to look at these issues because they’ve come too close to home. Literally. The Nursing School on our campus built a new school building, on the site that was the garbage dump. So the dump shifted to the next available free space. Right next to our house! So suddenly, 200+ girls in the hostel, houses, and not to mention the many many female patients and their relatives in a 200 bedded hospital were chucking all their waste into a gaping hole next door. Ouch!

Fortunately, M got into action. Clean paper and plastics are being collected and sold, and a sanitary pad incinerator was installed in the hostel. I breathed a tiny sign of relief. Except for the nagging thought that burning plastic pads surely could not be a viable solution? So, thanks to the great www and Google, I stumbled upon wonderful alternatives to the disposable plastic sanitary pads that are being offered ‘modern’ young women as a one-stop solution. And today seems the ideal time to share my favourite ones : Menstrual Cups and Cloth Reusable Pads. Enlightened souls who already use these, do spread the word. Everyone else, get comfortable under a Bodhi tree, and read on.

Menstrual Cups are bell-shaped and flexible, made of medical grade silicone and inserted into the vagina to catch menstural flow. Once the cup is full, you empty it, wash and re-insert. So a single cup lasts up to ten years! There are different sizes to choose from depending on your cycle and flow. The SheCup is made in India and costs about Rs1,000/- Menstrual cups are a fantastic product, and I can’t believe I hadn’t heard about them before. They were patented in the USA in 1937 by a midwifery group. Obviously they didn’t have as much capital to spend on advertising and packaging as the plastic pad makers. Incidentally, the plastic sanitary pad market share in India is worth thousands of crores of rupees.

The menstrual cup takes getting used to the first time, especially learning to insert and remove. But there are lots of great people who  will help you along. Again my favourites : dirtydiaperlaundry and PSP. And once you pluck up your courage, get rid of your ick-factor and try it out, you’ll be hooked for life. I sure am! They have no health risks, no leaks if you wear it right, no landfills or mountains of waste, no burning, no dioxins. They are very comfy and you learn more about your body and your flow!! If you’re thinking about trying one out, watch a couple of videos and go for it girl!

And next, Reusable or washable cloth pads. Cloth is what you or your mom or your grandmom used. In the Stone Age. We modern women don’t want to use rags of cotton – unhygienic, inconvenient and unhealthy. But sto and think again, modern lady. The cloth pad has been re-invented in stylish, convenient, leakproof and ecofriendly ways. Check out EcoFemme and Goonj’s Not Just a Piece of Cloth, to name a few in India. They need to be soaked in cold water (not hot), gently washed and dried in the sun. Of which we have plenty all year round – we’re currently toasting in the 40s! Ecofemme’s foldable model, or what we call ‘rumal’ or handkerchief here is perfect for places where drying is not easy or in the monsoons. They are soft and comfy. The wings are great. And they are handmade by cooperative groups. They can last from 3-5 years. So you need about 6-7 pads to see you through a cycle. They cost between Rs150-300/- per pad. And there are various programme to get them in bulk or subsidies rates, for women who can’t afford it. We’re doing a pilot trial of Ecofemme pads on our campus and so far everyone loves them!!

So next time the Great Red Spot comes visiting, thank your stars coz your reproductive system is in good shape, and try on your cup or washable pad. Do it for your body, and for the body of the earth. Because we’re worth it!

Over Domberetta Mountain

Last week was filled with memorable experiences. We had the inauguration and book release of 8 Kuvi story books, the ‘Wadu Aju Kerina’ series. It was a momentous event, celebrated with by communities at H and K. We look forward to many more story and song books!!

A day later, A and me trekked down to J village. It’s about 8 km from school, and took us a couple of hours at a leisurely pace. We walked the narrow paths that have been made by the villagers, stopping to say hi to school kids and old students on the way at P and T villages. We climbed steep slopes, slid down paths, crossed the stream. We passed families making sun baked bricks, building houses, girls making palm leaf mats. The short cut path through the fields had been recently cleared. We thanked the many hands that made it so easy for us to walk down the hill. We finally reached J by 2pm just in time for lunch. The girls had left lunch for us and gone trekking up the ‘Domberetta’ mountain. We could see them on the top of the hill, tiny little  stick figures waving to us from the huge huge rock at the top of the mountain. We had lunch and set out to meet the rest at the top of the hill. We met a hunch backed lady roasting ‘paerka’ and she kindly shared some of the juicy seeds with us.

The boys were leading the way confidently, but it soon became apparent that we were lost. We pushed our way through the thorny bamboo, clambered over small boulders and stopped to enjoy the view of J village. We were still lost, and there was no sign of any path, but there was only one way forward – UP! We could soon hear the shouts of the gang ahead and in no time we could see then waving to us from the top! The view from the top was stunning. “You have to climb a bit more, right to the top” coaxed S.

We scrambled up behind them. We could see across the mountains, into the next valley. The villages on the other side, C block, with the fields ploughed or planted, thin dirt roads snaking through the hills connecting villages with their parallel streets and sloping roofs. The girls and villages kids has already scaled the big boulders on top and were resting in various nooks and crannies.

We struggled to the top, crossing narrow ravines and tall boulders. Over the hill, J was no longer visible, but H and G villages were pointed out to us. Adivasi villages blend into the landscape around them, like salt dissolving in water. The tilled lands around the village, at various stages of agriculture, give it away much more than the village itself. In this day and age, where climate change and sustainability are the watchwords of development, we have so much to learn from these hill and forest dwelling communities.

So after snacking on bananas and pressure cooker cake, and many photo sessions later, we headed down to J. The kids collected any trace of plastic and waste what we brought along. A lesson to us mindless consumers from the people who consume minimally and live sustainably. This time,  we refused to let the boys be guides and followed the village mothers instead. They showed us firewood collection areas, different sections of the forest for each clan or village. They used their axes to clear the path of branches and brambles. They told stories about the myths sounding the mountain. The kids of course raced down ahead of us, and we were very ably led down the mountainside by a lady who had a limp from polio!

We met the cows coming home, men walking in from the forests, women from the bore well and kids from playing at the stream. Electricity and PMGSY have not reached J but very house has a solar panel and a light. We met B’s sister. B is married into D village now,  and is the Sarpanch of that panchayat. Talk about the impact of MRSK! We walked to the well to bathe and wash clothes. The girls had strung up a clothesline line outside the brick kiln. A dinner of hot rice and kandulo dal (red gram?) before we sat around the fires and kept warm. Domberetta mountain loomed high in the darkness, glowing silver as a crescent moon crept up from behind. The stars shone bright, shooting off sparks into space. We slipped into our mosquito nets and settled in for the night. Thanks you S and A for a wonderful day. May the tribe of U ever increase!

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