Activists and Party-goers

After the unexpected spiritual and activist journey of Bodhgaya I headed for Bhubeneswar, the capital of India’s other ‘poorest state’ Orissa. There I was to meet a Ghandian activist named Akshaya who dad had meet a couple of weeks earlier at an interfaith conference in Kolkata. It was nice to be met off the train and not have to find my way to anywhere. Indeed his community house was well off the beaten track beyond even the knowledge of the taxi driver who had to be directed. Unfortunately dad’s timetable and the train timetable combined against me and I only had one day to spend there, however it was a fascinating insight into a local activist community. There were about half a dozen men there that day out of about a dozen in total. They have two main projects at the moment working with local communities. One is around a major mining development proposed for the area. They are trying to make sure that local people are engaged in the project in terms of planning, employment and receiving revenue. The situation sounds similar to that of Indigenous communities in north-western Australia with mines etc being developed up there, so we were able to swap perspectives on this. The other more ongoing project is peace building work between local Hindu and Muslim communities. On both these projects the group use theatre as a means of breaking down barriers and communicating with the people. On top of all that Akshaya is also interested in alternative economic systems and has written an extensive paper on what he calls utilisation economics. So those of you who know me will understand that we had plenty to talk about. Our values are aligned in many ways but we had plenty of experiences to swap and perspectives to share, so it was a very fruitful day. I was encouraged to discover a healthy and mature activist network in India and interested to find that we share many issues in common despite our supposed economic differences.

Side note here is that climate change is well and truly on the agenda in India. From reading local newspapers it appears that the message about reducing our carbon footprint is as old and familiar as it is in Australia. I’ve also met a reasonable smattering of locals who’ve mentioned the issue or demonstrated their practical steps. A recent newspaper article even trumpeted India as playing an important brokering role in international negotiations as a willing partner but still looking out for the interests of developing nations. Of course the Indians understanding of energy conservation is also informed by the regular blackouts in most parts of the country, so they are much more used to doing without, or with less than we are.

Enough seriousness, time for the party. My next stop was to return to Kolkata, home of the puja festival that was now hotting up. The festival celebrates that slaying of demons by one of the Hindu gods. The main ritual involves the creation of life size (and bigger) clay figures, elaborately decorated, depicting the ancient slaughter. These are placed in ornate temporary temples – it’s amazing what fine artwork they can make out of bamboo! – where for several days they are the focus of celebrations (I wouldn’t really use the worship). Then over the course of a few evenings they are festively disposed of in the river where they rapidly sink and eventually dissolve. I was back in Kolkata a few nights before the peak of the festival but there must have been 1000 trucks lined up at the ghat (ceremonial riverside place) each with a set of clay figures to place in the river. Each truck also had 20-50 people crammed in the back and many had another 20-50 following along on foot from behind. Each truck represented one village or community and each group took their turn to wade their statues into the river and release it. The whole atmosphere is a carnival with stalls lining the streets like you might find at Moomba or the Melbourne show and the people are in a very joyous and jovial mood. Surprisingly I didn’t see any other foreigners checking out the spectacle but it felt like every Indian saw the one foreigner there. Any inhibitions that they had were lost in the joviality and anyone who came near wanted to shake my hand and wish me a happy puja. I felt like a minor celebrity waving to each truck as it passed and was imagining the mobbing that Adam Gilchrist would get if he happened to turn up. Eventually a particularly precocious lad of about 12 insisted that join him and his brothers as they followed their float along its final journey and released it into the river. Wading into the filthy water was not for me but it was nice to have a sense of being invited to join in the celebrations rather than just observing them.