Holly's GSBF 2013-2014 Blog

 

Looking around the quaint, ornate room, I started to feel uneasy about my presence. Young, white girl, sitting on the bed, while elderly, Indian women sit on the floor. I waited patiently for the translator to fill me in on the seemingly personal conversation. Even before the translation was passed along to me, I could sense the fear bouncing off the walls; a collective fear shared and displaced by all the women in the room. When I was finally enlightened through the translator, the situation was just as I had suspected. Experiences of abuse at home, at the factory, and likely, abuse if found talking to us. “But this is our tradition” one of the women said with a smile on her face, hiding the pain behind her sunken eyes, “This is the way it has always been.” Motivated by that statement, the only young Indian girl in the room, about my age, challenges her. She tells her mom and friends that just because this is how it has always been, doesn’t mean it’s the way it should be. I truly believe I am a part of a generation of change-makers. Our generation is going to confront, question, and challenge the way things are, and make strides towards a better future. Through our short time together, these village women in the middle of India opened my eyes and heart to their constrained positions in society. These women felt trapped, and probably still are trapped, in their unfortunate conditions. Their abilities to endure the abuse, to put their children’s future above their own, and to be resilient through it all are admirable. However, I don’t think women should solely endure their circumstances, but rather have power over their own worlds and futures.

Watching the 21-year-old banter back and forth with the older generation is a scene I will never forget. I will never forget parting ways after our short time together and mutually conveying the message that we will stand strong against these oppressive norms, to keep rebelling.

I may be an easily inspired individual, but there are few moments I can say that have impacted me more than the exchange with the 21-year-old village girl. This vivid moment is engrained in my mind for a reason as I am realizing more everyday. It is so easy to accept things the way they are, and so much harder to change them. I grew up thinking I could become whomever I wanted. I have no idea who I would be if I had grown up in an environment with incredible expectations and limitations. It deeply inspired me meeting such a courageous, young woman. At 21, she has already experienced abuse in the factory, quit, and is now encouraging others to stand up for their rights as well. She inspired me to think deeper into myself and figure out what I want to stand up for during my life, to find out what is important to me. Through my few worldly experiences, I have realized that global women’s empowerment is important to me, and somewhere along my future life-path.

My previous trip to Blue Fields, Nicaragua was my first taste of a developing world. For the first time, traditional gender roles were fully fleshed out before my naïve eyes. I locked myself out my first morning there, at a rough 6am, sat in a broken rocking chair, and watched the day unfold and the roles reveal themselves along the way. Intrigued, I started going out and meeting women in the community. I quickly realized there is a special connection women share universally, despite where they are born. After a short four weeks, I was plopped back into the good-ol’ U.S.A with an absurd amount of ungrounded energetic passion. I was changing my passions from one thing to the next, never fully engaging in it, and feeling restless, angsty, and utterly overwhelmed.

 

This fellowship has given me more than just the gift of education; it has given me the tools to harness my passion to do something with it. Without this fellowship, I would not have fully engaged and challenged my mind, body, and spirit so comprehensively. The combination of being thrown into the chaos of India, walking through garment factories, and later meeting these trapped women in a village, is an inescapable recipe for change. I was able to engage in complex social issues face-to-face, wrestle with the consequential internal struggles that surfaced, and inevitably learn more about myself, and who I want to be in this world. Even further, this fellowship has built my confidence and given me peace inside of myself. Although I still have a lot of passionate energy, it is focused, not scattered, and grounded in education and experience. My internal desire to be a part of something impactful, something that matters, is now aligned with my future vocation. Because of this, I feel more immersed in the present, more content with who I am, and more excited for who I am becoming. My capacity to love and empathize has grown to the point of no return. At this point, I know I will not be able to satisfy my spirit until more women (and men) in this world are given the power to create their futures. This new-founded sense of self came before an important transitional period in my life. I am excited to approach the real world with confidence and focused energy, because I know it will keep bringing me where I need to be.

I am moving gracefully towards the exciting intersection of global women’s empowerment, innovative entrepreneurship, and science and technology. Although I am moving toward an unreasonably challenging, yet vital intersection of our world, I am moving forward confidently with passion and a purpose. This fellowship marks a pivotal point for my development into the woman I want to be in this world. I feel so blessed that I was able to have these challenging and thought-provoking experiences so young, as well as have supportive mentorship to help understand the meaning of them at this time in my life. I’m excited to discover how else this fellowship will contribute to my future vocation, as the impact of this fellowship will continue to reveal itself to me as I engage in the world. I could not be more thankful for all the opportunities I was given to challenge myself and develop into the passionate, culturally sensitive, impact-obsessed woman I am striving to be in this world.

 

 

Organized Chaos

Sweat streaming down my body from pores I didn’t even know I had, crammed in a taxi that is even more crammed by the cars, motorcycles, cows, goats, and people surrounding it. Tattered women with babies and little boys with burns tapping on my window. My head ping-ponging back and forth trying to capture anything that was going on at every instant. Bracing myself and looking into the horrified eyes of a woman we almost hit. Welcome to India! Two days in, we had factory visits after factory visits. India was aggressively in our face, showing us all of itself right then and there. Over-stimulated, over-heated, and under-prepared for the real India, there we were. There was so much that I saw, felt, and experienced in the first few days, I didn’t even know what to put in my journal. After a week of shock, I realized that I could write poetry to wrestle with the experiences and thoughts I was having.

 

“It’s Normal”

Preparing for the blinding lights to turn into “the light.”

Swerving, honking, flashing brights; crisis averted.

Laughing at the almost head-on collision in the middle of India.

Hearing the driver say, “It’s normal” in his broken English and a little smile.

When things are normal, there’s no need to change them.

Frail bodies curled up on the street.

Whether or not they are alive is ambiguously chilling.

Tents seem to house most of India.

It’s normal.

The sun hidden by the smog.

The air more toxic than a cigarette butt.

Watching the beautiful distant mountain turn into a massive dump.

Seeing the dump catch on fire, giving the thick smog its lifeline.

It’s normal.

Children with burns, women with babies, tapping on your window, rattling your soul.

It’s normal.

You can either find your place in this normality or deem it a tragedy.

But who wants to live a life flooded by tragedies? No one.

Living in this city, you quickly get desensitized.

Your fear softens, your soul rattles less.

Whether you feel the tragedies or not, both are warranted.

But only one is right.

 

Factories and Photos

Running through the dimly lit factories, my mind was pounding with anxiety. The pictures were blurry at first, I didn’t know the culturally appropriate photographic behavior in India, and I didn’t know the language or the people. I just didn’t feel right snapping pictures of their faces. I have never been so negatively affected by photography in my life. I consider portrait photography one of my most valued hobbies. I get to know people, creatively figure out how to capture “who they are,” and take a picture with them. But I didn’t know these factory workers. I was just clicking away like a wealthy, white foreigner getting a high-class factory tour of this fascinating sight. I was taking pictures of this “fascinating sight” that they won’t leave in an hour and get tea and cookies along the way. This is their life. I realized in this first factory visit, that I have an extremely hard time carrying the stereotype of a white, wealthy, American college student. I try so hard to portray my humble, non-judgmental, and culturally respectful attitude because it pains me inside when people think otherwise. Although I love photography, I couldn’t fathom raising my camera to snap a picture of a passed-out person on the street. I even felt guilt every time I brought out my fancy camera and took pictures in the factory, even with the consent of the factory managers.

After some time, I started to realize that my cultural sensitivity was a gift, not a curse. Understanding India more, getting the head-bob down, and feeling more comfortable in the culture as a whole, my anxiety decreased and the quality of the photos increased. Roaming the streets and factories of India reminded me of how sensitive I am to what other people are thinking and feeling. I could have shot some incredible, shocking, and outrageous photographs, but I was too afraid to create an exploitative image of myself. Maybe I regret not taking more photos, but I also remember the intense inner struggle I was battling with most of the time that gutted all the photographic energy out of me. At the end of the day, I feel like I developed my photographic skills in the least exploitative manner, which is something invaluable for my personal development and future endeavors. I was thrown a difficult ethical challenge to wrestle with, and since I wrestled, I am much stronger than before.

 

Over and Over

Habits of buying the very best deal,

And perhaps even getting a “steal.”

Unknowingly we could be stealing more,

The freedom of a worker floor.

Factories come in more than one shape and size,

So this is not something to generalize.

Some find themselves happy and fortunate,

Others, though, trapped and desperate.

With little education,

There’s little ammunition.

Give a person confidence, knowledge, and a voice,

And suddenly they’ll understand the concept of choice.

Walking through the worker floors,

Eyes burning me as I walk through the doors.

I’m just a white person, a consumer, the problem,

Walking with a camera, trying not to exploit them.

Watching a human become a machine,

A perfectionist couldn’t comprehend the scene.

The repeated motions are hardly creative,

But they look almost meditative.

I would have to meditate in those conditions,

Leaving would be my only mission.

Shopping frivolously is simply no good,

Save your money, if you’ve seen it you would.

 

For the Love of India

Standing in a room full of Indian business men, marinating my senses; the smell of the smoking incense dominating the room, the humming mantras vibrating in my eardrums, the taste of the sweet, Indian treats melting in my mouth, and the warm, welcoming, and excited faces surrounding me. This was the first time I felt the door to the Indian culture swing wide open for me. It all started by being open to India. Two men we met on the street, after getting passed up by a frustrating five auto-rickshaws, offered to take us out to lunch. They were ecstatic to meet Americans roaming the streets of Bangalore. Matt and I looked at each other with the “why not” face, the first of many to come that day, and went out to eat an obscene amount of Veg Thali. Although they were hesitant, they asked us if we wanted to come to their friend’s business opening ceremony. After spending plenty of time with them, we could sense that they were harmless individuals that genuinely wanted to show us around the great city of Bangalore. So we hopped in the car and got to experience a local ceremony with local people. From that point on, Raj (or Raj Mahal as I call him) and Swetam, became our Indian brother and father. I learned from the beginning of my time with them that I am a trusting individual, maybe too trusting. They were genuinely scared for us because not everyone is “good like them” in India. Spending time with them, I got to realize that the culture in India and America are very different. But one is not necessarily better than the other. I remember feeling pity and almost disgust from them when I was discussing how we leave (or abandon) our families to go off to college and become independent. This concept is so looked down upon in the Indian culture. Why would anyone want to leave their families to fend for themselves and be alone? The relationships in India are so rich and intimate, I found myself envying this loving culture. In America, we have big walls between each of our homes, literally and figuratively. The hospitality I have experienced here cannot even begin to compare to that in India. Feeling pitied and having envy are two things I did not originally expect to feel. It took a few weeks to adjust to the non-stop motion of India, but once I did, I was happily along for the ride. By being open to India, India was more than willing to be open to me.

 

Breaking Norms

6:30 am. Last week in India. I ran outside with my five-dollar running shoes and soccer shorts, feeling like I was dragging my stomach behind me. I was so nervous I could hardly crack a smile. An Indian man named Jose, drove me over to the local soccer field (a large, dry dirt patch). Not surprisingly, I got a lot of strange, confused, and amused looks. “A white girl in shorts is about to play soccer with us?!” Although I had no idea what they were saying I’m sure that was the gist of it. Every touch I had with the soccer ball was crucial. Girls typically are not allowed to play soccer with the men. If I messed up, it would have been a confirmation in their minds that girls cannot play soccer. Adrenaline pumping through my body, shocking at that early hour, we split up into teams and start the game. There were no pennies to differentiate the teams, absolutely no shirts and skins, little English, and no touching one another, which I found out the hard way. Indian soccer: a whole new sport to get used to and a new language to get yelled at in. But I played, and I played well. After I earned their respect, they started to try to get to know me, and invited me back to play every day. These Indian men showed me love and acceptance when I doubted them. It’s experiences like this that I will carry with me forever. I met a community of Indians that shared a common love of soccer. Finding the similarities in a place seemingly so different is a beautiful thing that I will seek out wherever my next adventure may be.

 

India Reveals

These vignettes only expose a fragment of the developmental, eye-opening experiences India gave me. These stories and poems are particularly significant, however, because they portray the battles I was having in my mind during my weeks living abroad. I had no idea how I would react to being thrown into the middle of India. What this experience revealed to me, is that I, yes, felt the culture shock, but rather than retracting from the new culture, I became enamored with it. The factory visits made me realize the sensitivity I have towards all human beings, and the love of finding common ground with anyone and everyone. Realizing that I am fascinated by other cultures and captivated by their unique beauty, I know now that I would like to continue working internationally. I think my skills of cultural awareness, empathy, and openness to connect with people of all sorts will aid me in my desired international, developmental, public health profession.

 

You never really respect air until it slaps you in the face. Walking into the open Indian air, we quickly realized we were in for a surprise. You never really understand how the body is made up of 90% water until you see it escaping through every pore. India is a world totally unfamiliar to us, which leaves us yearning to experience and understand this new culture. Our senses are bombarded with sights and smells that leave us in a place of confusion, but with a greater desire to uncover what is unknown. Filling our nostrils with who knows what, the sun continues to hide above Delhi’s thick pollution. Swerving through cars, bikes, horses, tractors, motorcycles, and people, we have made it safely to each factory visit, seemingly by chance. From walking down aisles of department stores to walking down aisles of workers in assembly lines, our eyes have been opened to the other side of the supply chain.
We are blessed to have been able to meet with workers from four factories already, but it has been a lot to digest. Not knowing the language is one of our greatest barriers here. Unfortunately, Hindi and Punjabi are not languages you can learn in a few weeks. Language aside, though, we find ourselves engaging in the stories of the people who make our clothes. Many of our shirts say “made in India”, but what does this actually mean? From what context do our clothes come from? These were questions we found ourselves asking before coming here and are still seeking to address. But one thing is for sure: the people that produce our clothing are real. They each carry unique stories and aspirations. The process of getting to know these narratives has been intoxicating, and it brings us joy to play our part in promoting ethical sourcing.
Our qualitative research has been oriented around discovering more about workers’ lives and the ways in which Labor Link can help to reveal what workers deem important, in an effort to encourage corporations to meet workers’ needs. Obtaining this data can be hard and frustrating, especially with the language barrier, but we continue to push forward with the help of Good World Solutions employees.
Our time in Delhi is coming to a close. We’ve spent the last couple of days reflecting on our factory visits and gearing up for research in Bangalore. We continue to learn more about ethical sourcing and its many implications daily, and we can’t wait to further explore these issues in Southern India. New food, places, and people are waiting for us, and we’re excited to engage in a new realm of experiences.
More to come next week!

-Holly & Matt

Here I am on my first morning in Nicaragua, awake at an ungodly hour, locked out of my housing complex and attempting to communicate with the chefs with my broken Spanish. I didn’t have the courage to wake up my new colleagues, so I just sat in a broken rocking chair, petting our community dog, and watching the morning of a typical Nicaraguan unfold. Although I felt uncomfortable staring at people as they started their days, I was too utterly intrigued by this new lifestyle to look away. Men were in the streets carrying materials up hills, already sweating and working hard at this time of day. Women were bathing their children, cooking, and doing laundry for hours on end. The children were chasing chickens and laughing hysterically, perfectly content with being awake at 6 am. This was a much different way of life than I had been used to but it enveloped me like nothing before. This was the first time that I felt like I was in the right place, doing the right thing. Little did I know that the next month of my life would teach me more about myself and my future than I could have ever imagined.

Before leaving for this trip, my mind was convoluted with worldly issues, the failing AID system, the 3 billion people living in poverty, and at the same time, I found myself dreaming of solutions. I started to become more passionate about making some sort of fundamental change in the AID system that we have today. After sleeping on my slightly unreasonable ideas for some time, I woke up one morning realizing I needed to experience more of the world. I started researching and fundraising, and within two months I raised enough money to fund a month’s trip to Blue Fields Nicaragua, working for BlueEnergy, a nonprofit organization that delivers energy, water, and sanitation to marginalized communities.

 

Because I flew into Blue Fields with passion but not much knowledge, the whole month was a learning adventure. Initially, the language barrier was the hardest challenge I faced. Although I can speak Spanish very well now (I just came back from Spain), I felt my Spanish in Nicaragua held me back. I am the type of person who loves to connect with people of all backgrounds and understand why people are the way they are; not being able to speak the language was an inner battle I struggled with the whole time I was there. I tried to ease this by having a supervisor come with me while I interviewed women in the community, but it was obvious I was not as trusted since I didn’t know the language fluently. One way I tried to combat this issue was by playing soccer in the community every week. As a woman, I had to prove that I could keep up with the men; it took me 5 minutes on the field and a few goals to quickly earn their respect. After playing a few games, I started to make friends and feel more comfortable in the community. I achieved this with little communication, which is not ideal, but the best I could do given the circumstances.

 

Another personal challenge I had to face was figuring out what I am good at, what my purpose is, and what I can bring to the table as a Public Health major amongst engineers. I remember my supervisor was shocked about how interested I was in learning about the community on our city tour; we ended up getting carried away in our discussion and had to continue the tour another day. If I had known the language better, I would have wanted to do more interviews in the community and learn more about them in a personal way. I took pictures in the community, although not as much as I would have liked due to the concern of safety, and helped out on the projects whenever I was needed. While working on one of our beneficiaries’ grey water system, I was being used as manual labor and simply following what the engineers told me to do for a certain extent; I joined this project at a time when they had it all figured out. This was a big challenge for me because I am not one to sit back and follow orders for the majority of the time. I like to be a part of the creative process and decision-making and feel efficiently utilized. In every situation I was given, though, I made strong relationships with the people in the community and still managed to have an enriching experience. While some of the engineers were obsessing about the actual system that we were building (rightfully so), I was obsessing about the big picture and how this was going to help a community be more efficient and self-sufficient in the drought season. I was emotionally invested in the people and the process while others were emotionally involved with the actual project; this was their baby they had been working on for weeks so it makes sense why it had to be just the way they wanted it.

All of the challenges I faced have brought me 10 steps closer to knowing what I want to do in my life. There were countless ah-hah moments that I experienced while in Nicaragua and I feel blessed to have had them so young. First, kids are kids wherever you go. I experienced this when I went on my community trip to Rocky Point. I immediately became close to all of the kids there and they reminded me of all of the kids I have met in California. Kids don’t seem to notice different skin colors as much; they simply focus more on the tall person they can climb on for a piggy-back ride. I felt so blissful in Rocky Point, and I dearly miss that whole family (especially dancing to Don Omar with all of the kids). In my future endeavors I will continue to learn from all who I meet no matter how different our backgrounds. Of course I learned things in Nicaragua like how much mosquitos love my blood, or how much gallo pinto I can eat in one sitting, but it was my connections with the people that fuels my passion today. As I was trudging through the jungle with a machete in my hand and jumping into water holes to collect litter from the stream, I realized I could stay in Nicaragua for so much longer than just a month. I want to keep learning and working with communities around the world and continue having experiences as purely fulfilling as the ones I had in Blue Fields. Arguably one of the most important things I realized when I was in Nicaragua was that although I didn’t go over there and make a huge impact, a huge impact was made on me. Traveling with the mindset that you are going to make a big difference is not only off-putting to the communities you come in contact with, but also disappointing when you realize your one-month visit didn’t change the world. To me this doesn’t mean that one person can’t be a part of global change, it just means that the intent should be led with empathy, compassion, and a realistic idea of where you best fit in this world. With this, change follows.

 

When I heard about this fellowship, I didn’t even think twice before starting the application process. Once again, like sitting in that old, broken rocking chair, I find myself where I should be, doing what I should be doing. Through this fellowship, I feel like I will be one step closer to becoming who I want to be in this world and finding out what I have to offer. I see no better fit for me this summer working for Good World Solutions. My partner Matt Stockamp and I will be evaluating the social impact of their innovative technology, Labor Link, by conducting interviews of the factory workers, and documenting the impact through film and photography. There is no telling what I will learn from this experience, but regardless I know it will be profound and transformational. I couldn’t thank Keith and Thane enough for providing me with such a unique and enriching opportunity.

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