The Wishing Tree

I stopped by The Wishing Tree last week to buy a couple of gifts for when I go to the USA in July. It had been a year or two since I had last visited Ananda's "boutique" in the Metropolitan Mall in Gurgaon, and I was impressed by how beautiful the store is now and what a nice, peaceful vibration it has. The colors are so attractive and the displays nicely arranged. "Uncle" Vijay has done a great job of managing it these last few years and from what he told me, sales have gone up since the new Metro line has gone into operation. A local station is directly outside the doors of the mall.

When Swami Kriyananda moved to India late in 2003, it wasn't long before he suggested Ananda have a store of its own in one of the upscale shopping malls rapidly coming up on MG Road, not

too far from our ashram. Swamiji enjoyed visiting the Metropolitan Mall when he wanted a break from writing, browsing there in the Om Bookshop or having a snack at the barrista in the indoor courtyard. It was natural choice for us to lease a space there in 2004. Biraj headed up the project and served as manager until handing over the duties to Vijay when he shifted to Pune in 2008.
(Left: Vijay at The Wishing Tree)

Vijay told me a few facts about his customers and the store. Murtis (statues) have always been one of the biggest sellers and The Wishing Tree is now known as the place to go for anyone wanting a good quality murti. It also sells the best incense and puja accessories and many customers come especially for that. Vijay admitted these items don't bring in much money but his customers rely upon him for their supply, coming again and again. They also know that he is willing to procure whatever items they need, resulting in many of his sales being special orders. The store does not bargain but is recognized for always charging a fair price. Many foreigners come to the store as they browse the malls for items to take home and many have recommended The Wishing Tree to their friends for when they too come to India. Word of mouth is the best advertising.

One of the primary reasons for opening the store in the first place was to have a outlet for Ananda books and products to the general public. This is still an important aspect of the

store and it carries a full line of Swami Kriyananda's publications and music in addition to complementary spiritual literature, all of which sell well. If they don't have what you want, Vijay will get it for you. Anyone interested in Ananda's classes or other activities can get all the information they need at the store.
(Left: Kanta helps at the store when she can.)

So what's next? In the first years, the goal was to simply to balance the financial books but now that the store has begun to run a little bit in the black, Vijay is starting to think about expanding or even opening another outlet in Gurgaon. Who knows? The city is in a tremendous growth phase with few signs of things slowing down so I don't doubt another store could succeed if a good location is found. Another store (or stores?) would allow an expansion of the line of products and to buy in larger quantities. Maybe we could even have a store in Pune City too but maybe it's best to be careful about such plans because as the ancient tale says, whatever you wish for under the magical "wishing tree" is bound to come true.

Guru Kripa

This is a story told to me by Jasbir Singh, a friend of Ananda Sangha in Gurgaon and the owner of a fabric shop in the Qutab Plaza Mall, a short distance from our Gurgaon ashram.

I was first introduced to Swami Kriyananda in 2004. At that time, I had made kurtas for a few of the Ananda monks and one day a group of them came to my shop and said that Swami Kriyananda wanted to meet me. I had seen him

once before but had never been introduced to him so I asked my husband what he thought I should do. He said, “If a saint invites you to meet him, you should go.” I asked if he would go with me and when he said, “Yes” we went to where Swamiji was living at that time, in the building that is now the Ananda ashram. (Jasbir and her husband, Brigadier Singh, at left.)

Swamiji was very gracious and we were served tea and snacks and we talked about this and that. Finally, Swamiji looked at me and said, “Madam, I am looking for a house and you are going to buy it for me!” You can imagine my surprise. I had just met him and said, “Swamiji, I don't know anything about houses and buildings or about prices and things like that,” but he didn't say anything more about it. I kept wondering what he could mean because I didn't have money to purchase a house if that was what he meant. It was all very strange.

A little bit later, I received a call saying that Swamiji was negotiating with a fellow about a house and was asking if I could come and take part in the conversation. I said I would and went to where they were meeting and was introduced to this man who asked, “Do you recognize me?” At first I didn't but then I remembered him as someone I had not seen in a long time, a man who had lived in a house of my uncle's when I was young and who, many years ago, had caused him lot's of trouble. I immediately called Dharmadas into another room and told him, “Don't have anything to do with this man. He will take your money and cheat you for sure. He's dishonest and not a good man.” After awhile, we went back into the room where this man was speaking with Swamiji. Dharmadas thanked him for coming and told him he would think about their offer but I think the fellow knew I had said something against him because he gave me a dirty look. Swamiji said he was glad I had come because he felt something was not right.

Some days later, I was walking in the neighborhood and I saw a sardar (Sikh man) standing by the gate of a new house. Since I am also Sikh, I said “Hello” and asked if he lived there. “No,” he said, “I am a builder and I have just finished this house.” I was curious so I asked if he would be willing to show it to me, which he did. I liked it immediately and he and I sat down to talk about it. “Sir”, I said “I know nothing about houses and construction but I want to buy this house for a swami and I trust you to help me and to

give me a good, fair price. You must understand that this house will be for a very spiritual man and the money will come from many donors around the world. This is a not a normal buisness deal. The cloth on your head (referring to his turbin) is the same as that on my husband's. We are well known in this neighborhood and if it should come back to us that we have been cheated, I don't know what we would do or how we could show our face. You must help us.” The man was touched because he replied, “One thing is missing. You say many have contributed but I haven't been asked about what my contribution will be. I too will help with this purchase.”

So, we talked about prices and details and eventually Swamiji and the others came to see the house too. They liked it and we went forward with the purchase. This is how Swamiji came to live in Guru Kripa. Afterward, he said, “What's this about not knowing anything about houses. See how you bought this house for me."

Back in Gurgaon

Sadhana Devi and I shifted last month to Gurgaon from Pune after being away since 2008. In our absence, the Ananda center/ ashram went through significant changes, making our return like coming back to a different place. Even Delhi seems to have changed for the better but my guess is that these transformations are more an outward projection of what has happened within me. I’ve changed. Our time in Pune, living in our own apartment, finding our way in a strange new city, working in the village with all the attendant challenges and making a new set of friends gave both Sadhana Devi and me a broader understanding of India and, perhaps, of ourselves. For that, I’m grateful. I was a little sad to leave Pune but now that I’m in Gurgaon, I realize this is a better place for us to serve and I like it.

Over 25 Westerners were once part of our work in the Gurgaon when we left in 2008, Swamiji was in residence and the place was lively with projects. Now only five Westerners remain (Sadhana Devi, myself, Daya, Keshava and Dhyana). The monks and Swami’s staff shifted to Pune and the rest headed home, leaving those who remain with a bigger teaching and organizational load. Our duties include not only Gurgaon but also functions in the entire NCR (National Capitol Region) where we have a vibrant center in Noida on the other side of Delhi and ongoing classes in the capitol itself. Of the six houses once needed in our DLF Phase 1 neighborhood, only the ashram/center (B10/8) and Guru Kripa (Swamiji’s home) remain with talk now of Guru Kripa possibly being sold to further the project in Pune. With so much downsizing, you would be forgiven to think our work in the NCR has regressed, but surprisingly, it hasn’t. That's why we were called back. It's simply changed. In fact, in some ways things are better here than ever though the live-in ashram population is definitely smaller. In the absence of the Americans and Europeans, local devotees have stepped up, a sign a the natural maturation of our work in India.

When the Westerners were here, we had at our disposal a large crew of volunteers willing to do whatever was necessary to plant seeds of Ananda’s work in India. On top of volunteering, they also paid for room and board, giving a tremendous boost to the ashram. Small businesses and outreach programs were started, a legal and financial structure put into place and we learned the ropes of living in a foreign land, but it was always with an intention of one day turning the work over to local devotees, replacing foreigners with locals. Little by little, this has happened much in the same way as it did in Italy.

We now have an extended family of Indian devotees who participate regularly in the Gurgaon ashram with some leading classes and others helping with the day to day operations. Whereas the first Westerners were without family responsibilities, the same isn’t true for the Indians. Most are householders with children, so living in the ashram isn’t an option, but they treat Ananda as their spiritual home and come by for functions from the neighborhoods nearby.

The same is true for our group in Noida on the other side of Delhi, led by Mr. Gupta and his family. Since we left, they’ve grown into a strong Ananda Center with their own space in the basement of a residence in a quiet neighborhood, more central to where their members live than before. There, a solid core of devotees participates regularly with only occasional teaching help from those of us in Gurgaon. Most of the programs are presented by local teachers who have graduated from our Teacher Training Course. In central Delhi, Daya and Keshava lead weekly satsangs and classes in rented classroom space.

One of the most practical measures of commitment is financial. Are people willing to support a work that serves them? For Gurgaon, the answer has been "Yes!" The change over the last year has been revolutionary. In the first half of 2010, eight ashram members departed for homes in America and Europe, leaving a void in the Ananda Gurgaon’s aura and some questioning about whether we should move elsewhere because of our financial state. Up until then, the center had been running a significant monthly deficit and the gap between income and expenses seemed impossible to bridge. We had few local, consistent contributors and our efforts to establish a steady fundraising effort always seemed to stall. Perhaps locals didn't feel connected enough to contribute or perhaps they didn't perceive a need. Or, maybe they simply weren't asked in the right way. Whatever the case, something needed to change because with Swamiji shifting his focus to Los Angeles, donations from overseas dried up and it became essential for the Gurgaon Center to meet its monthly expenses without outside subsidies. The Gurgaon leadership took the following steps.

1. It was imperative to trim costs, scrutinize all items and eliminate waste. The most significant decision was to give up Shanti House, our guest facility. This was painful and much debated but it was draining us.
2. The Center increased its monthly income through raised rents, businesses paying for space and services previously provided free, and by the staff offering many more classes at higher rates. None of these were painless.

3. While some thought it time to contract, Nayaswami Dhyana decided to do the opposite and initiated a remodeling of the entire basement into a new, magnetic Ananda Center to attract new energy. Whereas before half the basement was used for book and material storage, it is now a beautiful temple, an income producing boutique and a Sangha Office space. Books are now stored off-site in another neighborhood.
4. Finally and most importantly, a new, energetic program of “Supporting Membership” was initiated to attract local devotees willing to support the Center. From a base of zero in early 2010, we now have over 30 Gurgaon Supporters who make significant monthly donations to keep the Center functioning. An important element of this campaign was greater personal contact with members and the establishment of a sense that the Ananda Center is now theirs.

The changes had a dramatic effect upon the energy at the Center and our finances. The entire basement is now in use, open for devotees at all times. A new altar and murti (statue) of Babaji was installed and whereas before we had one class each weekend, we sometimes now have three or four, often led by local teachers, a weekly Gita Study Group on Thursday evenings and a Kriyaban Discussion Group on Fridays. If we could to attract students on weeknights, we’d do even more, but Indians rarely attend weeknight classes as they do in America. By God's Grace, we are now paying all our bills and beginning to tithe to the larger work of Ananda India.

Ananda's work in the NCR still has a long way to go and we recognize our ability to reach people beyond the NCR has declined. We simply don’t have the teachers, time or funds to travel and host programs beyond our local area. The disciples in Pune do a good job in their city and travel to Mumbai and Bangalore, but there is much, much more we could do had we the necessary resources. For the moment, our focus in the NCR is to stablize our foundation by building a larger core of Supporting Members. In time, this should allow us to hire one or two local staff to free up

energy for us to reach out in a larger way. An Ananda Centers Department may be the next step in this direction, perhaps followed by new outreach programs in selected cities like we did in 2007/08.

As I mentioned, the possibility of Swamiji selling Guru Kripa is in the air. He is scheduled to return to India after the monsoon and I expect he'll make a final decision then. It’s a very nice house and has the blessings of Swamiji’s years there, so some would like to see it preserved in the Ananda work. On the other hand, it represents a considerable asset that might be put to better use elsewhere. The house serves the Gurgaon group as an extra classroom, a meeting venue and as a place for guests. Of course, it also is where Swamiji, his staff and Nayaswamis Dharmadas and Nirmala stay when they are here. If it is sold, we'll be sad but at the same time, it may open the door for us to relocate to a building of our own rather than continuing to rent the present ashram house. With Guru Kripa in our possession, it’s difficult to consider moving but once those ties are broken, we might be able to do something “more and better” if we can rally our local support to help us. When one door closes, another opens.

We’d love to have you visit. The ashram has guest spaces available for those who might be passing through Delhi, so please come to see us if you can. I’d especially like to remind you of the short pilgrimages from Gurgaon to spots of interest in north India led by Daya and Keshava Taylor. They regularly visit Babaji’s cave and Rishikesh. In addition, groups go to Yogananda shrines in Kolkata and have recently visited Amritsar, Ladakh, and Badrinath. Most of the pilgrimages are of less than a week, making them easy to fit into local devotees schedules. Once you sign up, of course, you can then spend time with us in Gurgaon. Check out their nice webpage at www.anandapilgrimages.org.

The Price of Onions

The price of onions doubled in December to over Rs.50/kg, causing an agony of hand wringing and finger pointing in the press. What started as a minor price fluctuation became over the course of a month the focus of a national debate. What was going on? Why so much talk about onions?

On the surface, it might appear to be simply about onions but like many things in India, it’s complicated. Onions came to represent deeper issues troubling a rapidly changing society-- inflation, the plight of India’s farmers and a need for agricultural reform. The proximate cause for the onion problem was a lingering monsoon that flooded fields and destroyed much of the crop. The result; prices went up. A variation of this scenario plays itself out every year with differing crops but this time the situation caught everyone’s attention and a host of issues entered the debate.

The first response of government ministers was, a la Captain Renault in Casablanca, to “round up the usual suspects.” In this case, that meant catigating “hoarders,” “middlemen” and “market manipulators.” That always plays well and it may even be true, but no one really believed much would come of it. This was followed by photos of the police confiscating bags of onions from wholesalers’ warehouses. No one clarified exactly who these manipulators were and I'm not the only one who wonders what happened to those bags. A few small voices mentioned how onions can’t be hoarded very well because they dry and lose value within one week, but nobody wanted to hear it.

Vying for the lead with response #1 was the old standby; blame the “incompetent, inept, short-sighted, and foolish” policies of the government in power. “It should have been anticipated!” “Why isn’t more being done?” “The aam aadmi (common man) once again suffers at the hands of the capitalists.” Under verbal assault, the Agriculture Minister gave assurances, deflected blame, and called for reform. The Prime Minister met with his Cabinet and initiated “investigations”. Local administrators ducked for cover.

When outrage showed no signs of abating and prices kept rising, the government put into motion Standard Response #3. It banned exportation of onions (or potatoes, rice, wheat, kerosene, steel or whatever happens to be the shortage of the month). A governmental spokesman said something along the lines of, “If rapacious, conspiring traders are prohibited from selling their onions to greedy foreigners (read: Pakistanis? Americans?), we’ll show them our resolve. Mother India will stand up! We’ll force the traders to sell cheap to the home market.” Traders, faced with a loss, liquidated what they could, spoilage took the rest, and then they simply suspended business until further notice. Shortages ensued. Prices rose.

Finally, things returned to normal when farmers began harvesting the next onion crop. This sequence will be repeated when the next shortage comes, but this time I found it refreshing to see more attention paid to serious, underlying issues. I don’t expect much to be done, but one of these days, enough momentum will be generated to initiate change.

The cost of food has been rising at a 20%+ annual rate for the last few years, far above the national inflation rate in other sectors. Tellingly, prices have not inflated above average for grain. Why? India’s diet is changing as it becomes more prosperous. A rapidly expanding, urban middle class is no longer content with only dhal, rice and chapattis now that it has money to buy a broader array of fruits, vegetables, dairy products and meat. Demand for dairy products, eggs and poultry is fast on the rise in all parts of the country. Indians are growing bigger with each generation as more protein is consumed. Although pockets of malnutrition remain, the general improvement in national health can be attributed largely to an improved diet. When the demand for a commodity rises and the supply is static, prices go up.

The logical response to increased demand, if you want price stability, is to increase supply, but this takes time, investment, planning and incentives to those who grow the food. India immediate need is not to grow more food but to better utilize what it has. Indian farmers produce abundantly but it’s said that 40% is lost before it reaches the consumer, mostly due to poor storage, bad transportation, lack of infrastructure and inefficient distribution networks. Whatever the real number, the percentage is huge and government is unable to address it effectively.

Caught in the middle is the vulnerable Indian farmer. Without proper storage and faced with his crop going to waste, he is at the mercy of middlemen who dictate prices. Since most Indian farms are small, the farmer is usually too poor to invest in his own storage and the government seems unable, or refuses, to step in and build proper facilities. Vast amounts of food sit unprotected from the elements and rot. Most farmers are tenants, paying rent to landlords, and cannot borrow from banks to make their own improvements even if they had the will to do so. Most must borrow for seed and fertilizer and are forced to deal with private money lenders charging usury rates of up to 35% interest. It’s little wonder that farmer suicide is a national epidemic when crops fail.

In India, middlemen dominate, each taking a cut and leaving the farmer with a pittance. Private industry is stepping in some districts to create grocery chains similar to those found in the West, contracting directly with farmers and building their own distribution networks. This eliminates many of the middlemen and raises the prices paid to farmers while at the same time lowering them for consumers. You might think the government would encourage this but it doesn’t. In fact, it restricts it and in some states, grocery chains are banned altogether because of fears about their impact on mom and pop stores and middlemen. These groups are politically connected, belong to the rising urban class and have the ear of politicians, whereas the farmer always comes second. The peasants’ plight is seen as something to be accepted, an unfortunate, eternal fact of nature.

The Indian farmer desperately needs efficient distribution networks, cold storage, warehouses and the many things that can be provided by private industry yet government attitudes continue to inhibit such investment in the agricultural sector to protect entrenched interests. It seems as if even the rural politicians don’t really want change because it might rock the boat and upset their power base.

When a farmer harvests his crop, he is unable to sell it to the highest bidder. Usually his only option is to sell to a small handful of licensed wholesalers who control the vegetable mandis (markets), a legacy of the “License Raj” I’ve written about before. Because they are scarce and give those who possess them control of the food markets through monopolistic practices, the licenses are valuable and awarded to those with political influence. It goes without saying that bribes are paid and those who benefit prefer the status quo. Calls for ending this system go nowhere but at least the latest “onion crisis” has begun to make the public aware of what’s going on.

The future of India points to a huge expansion of its cities, much like what we see now in China. This is where capital is flowing and political influence resides, yet most Indians still live in villages. As cities expand, land prices increase on their peripheries, farmland is diverted to other uses, and food production is pushed further away from nearby, city markets. Every day, thousands leave their village to build the glass towers of Gurgaon, Hyderabad or Bangalore and clean the homes of the those who live in them. Onion prices are pushed higher but even that could be a good thing if the money actually flowed into the hands of farmers, but it doesn’t. Farmers will continue to struggle and India will stumble from one food “crisis” to the next until something changes.

Do I believe such change will come? Actually, I do because the coming generation will demand it and forces are at play that will make it happen in spite of government. Here’s a short story. Our community in the countryside outside of Pune is not far from a good, two lane highway built within the last fifteen years to serve a privately funded, multi-billion project in the hills beyond. The local sarpanch tells stories of when he was a young man and how he would drive his bullock cart along the old road to take his crop to market. At each stream, he would unload his sacks of grain and carry them across the water to the other side where he would reload them onto his cart. In this manner, he reached Pune in five days whereas today, it takes only one hour by truck. All because of a road and transportation. Before, our area was poor but I wouldn’t call it that now. It has been fortunate. Farmers now grow a variety of crops and I’m even seeing flora-culture coming up here and there, made possible because of good roads, education and better technology. Kids all go to school whereas before only a few did. India’s integration into the modern world and the natural dynamism of its people are pushing these changes.

In the days of the Mughals, the policy of the empire was to extract as much wealth as possible from the peasants, leaving them just enough to survive to produce next year’s crop. The British followed much the same policy but realized it would be wiser, and better long-term business practice, to reinvest a little of the wealth into the country’s roads and railways, thereby increasing production and improving their ability to control a vast country. Since those days, India has come a long way but the farmer still gets the short end of the stick.

Gandhi foresaw a modern India that concentrated first upon improving the lot of its farmers and villages. As they prospered, he believed the entire country would rise. Nehru had an alternate vision of a modern India driven by industry, guided wisely by the government. He noted that all modern economies had passed through a phase of industrialization to escape poverty and felt Gandhi’s course to be impractical. Once India had assumed its rank among modern industrialized nations, it could turn its attention back to the land and help those left behind. Who was right? Nehru had a point but now that industrialization has come, I see rural India still waiting.

Community Building--Lessons Learned

On the 23rd, Dharmadas and Nirmala led our annual Christmas meditation at the community in Watunde Village, thirty kilometers outside of Pune. As I sat there, I couldn’t help but gaze from time to time out the window from Swami Kriyananda’s home to the hillside below. It’s changed so much from when I first arrived that it’s hard to believe it’s been only a little over two years. It seems much longer. There were no buildings when I came and now there is a cluster. Seeing my fellow gurubhais sitting in Swami’s home affirmed that the seeds we’ve planted have taken root. A growing community has sprung up, ready to take another step, the building of guest accommodations and up to 32 residential flats. The guest space is already underway and we are in the process of soliciting bids from contractors with hope of beginning the flats next month.

Being part of a construction project in India has definitely been a “learning experience”. I used to joke with my co-workers about paying “fees” to attend the Indian school of hard knocks. “Just another tuition payment” I’d say after finding once again I’d over-paid or been mildly swindled. On the whole, my two years in Pune have been a marvelous (and mostly fun, with a few exceptions) experience of learning the ins and outs of doing business in village India, what to expect, what to avoid, when to be firm and when to keep quiet, when to bargain and when to simply walk away. When I arrived, I hadn’t a clue about local protocols, but I learned the little things that make life smoother. Take time to try to know the person with whom you are dealing, have another cup of tea and make an effort to become friends. Business is more personal in India and if you are “inside” the circle of friendship of another, things will go better. I learned trivial customs too such as how to count money in a cash exchange, how Indians like all the bills to be neatly arranged and not upside down or back-to-front like they‘d usually be when coming from me. I learned to check, check, check everything and to verify transactions or you will be disappointed before long.

In the building of the first cluster of homes, Swamiji’s included, we made many mistakes we hope to avoid in the next project such as how to plan properly and build more efficiently. Some of our troubles were simply due to Biraj’s and my unfamiliarity with local techniques and materials. In America, wood is used heavily and that is what I am familiar with, whereas in India, it is very expensive and used only for specific purposes only such as cabinets, doors and decoration. Houses in India are built almost entirely of concrete, reinforcing steel, bricks, plaster and decorative tile or stone. Almost everything is done by hand with power tools used only for such things as cutting marble or an occasional drill. Mortar is mixed by hand and power concrete mixers are only used for the major pours. Big crews of unskilled labor are the norm, doing the work of machines you‘d typically see in the West. As a “hands-on” American, I tended to get personally involved in the work I supervised but this often raised eyebrows. Supervisors here don’t dirty their hands and the pronounced consciousness of class and the attendant attitudes I found distasteful.

I was very impressed with how hard most of the daily laborers worked, men and women. Some were idlers, but most put in a hard day’s work of heavy labor for a very small wage. Indian crews are very good, or even excellent, with the rough work of reinforcing bar, concrete forming and pouring, and with all things masonry but tend to be “slap-dash” or “slip-shod” with finished details. That was a disappointment which necessitated constant hectoring from me and Biraj to get jobs up to an acceptable standard. Often we were forced to concede that the workers simply did not have the skill, tools or training to do what we hoped, no matter how hard they tried or we badgered. They couldn’t understand “what’s the problem” when we complained and redoing brought no better results. I found this somewhat surprising because I've seen very high quality work in India and the best explanation I heard was that it just isn’t possible to get the quality we want in a remote location such as Watunde Village. What we viewed as substandard, they saw as perfectly fine. We would have had to import special workers from the city at a much higher price to get quality work but we didn’t have the time or experience to do that. We were also told that all the best workers were now working at Lavasa, the a modern, multi-billion dollar hill station coming up 15 kilometers from us, where good workers were being paid handsomely.

Another lesson, subsequently confirmed by Indians with contracting experience, was learning how about the difficulty of getting subcontractors to coordinate with one other. It was maddening. Let’s say Mr. Plumber wants to install a “shut-off” valve for a house. Will he put it where it best serves the needs of the homeowner and doesn’t conflict with other jobs? Probably not. He’ll put it in a place most convenient to himself without thinking how it affects anyone else. If easiest, he’ll put it in the middle of a pathway to be tripped over or where another crew might be laying drain lines. They, in turn, will put the drains in too shallow without thinking of the needs of the following crew who want to place paving stones properly. I’d get so exasperated and ask, “What are you guys thinking?” Obviously, thinking ahead was not part of their job description. Where was the contractor who was supposed to be supervising? Absent as usual. Each crew had absolutely no concern for the others. If an electrician encounters a pipe blocking his wiring pathway, will he take a little extra time to go around it. Noooo! He’ll probably cut the pipe out and patch over the situation in some make-shift fashion without telling anyone!!! You’ll discover his little “fix” only later when you notice the wet spot on the wall. The supposed solution to this madhouse approach is to have the architect draw precise details about every single pipe, wire and conduit and then have an army of supervisors checking everything, but of course, this doesn’t happen. We were thankful to receive plans at all, usually weeks late at best. A second approach is to hire a “Services Engineer” who will take the architectural plans and figure out every little detail for the workers. But that didn’t work either. I tried it for our drainage and water systems and received a set of plans entirely theoretical with little relationship to reality. The fellow didn’t bother to actually visit the site to look at what was being built. I quickly gave his plans the toss and improvised.

In America, when hiring a professional, licensed tradesman such as an electrician or plumber, it's assumed he knows his craft and has experience to deal with whatever comes up. You shouldn’t need to tell him how to do his job and if he has a question, he usually can be counted upon to ask. He’ll know enough of the other trades to do his work in such a way as to coordinate with those who follow. I assumed things worked this way in India too. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Basic rule, “Assume nothing!” Especially in the villages.

“Professional” subcontractors may, or may not, know their trade. If they do, they probably know little of other tradesman’s job. In India, you will find contractors who have never touched a tool in their life. The concept of “working one’s way up the ladder” from apprentice to journeyman to contractor , so typical in the construction trades in the West, is not as common here. I found one excellent electrician who had gone through this progression and he was a joy to work with, but generally, supervisors and contractors skip the step of “on-the-job” training and have little practical experience. The person left to do the job has little incentive to coordinate with the other tradesmen. His responsibility is not to the customer but to the man who pays him, and that guy wants him to finish as fast as possible and move on. If you ask him to do something out of the ordinary, he is likely to say, “Not my scope,” meaning it’s someone else's job, certainly not his. Ah, how I came to loath that phrase. “When you leave, would you please clean up the mess you’ve left behind?” “Not my scope!” “Would you repair the pipes you’ve just broken when digging up the pathway?” “Not my scope!” I heard it so often, I found myself using it too, “Jaya, when passing through town next time, would you do the grocery shopping?” “Not my scope!”

How refreshing it was to find someone who really knew his trade, was particularly skilled or who was willing to take responsibility for doing a job well and right. Such people do exist, thank God and we were lucky to find some. When we did find workers with good spirit and skill, we did our best to keep them on our crew. Often though, working with the villagers was a challenge. I found many of their attitudes and behaviors pretty dark and came to realize why so many Indians want to get away from the villages and move to the cities. Theft is rampant. Anything of value must be locked up or it disappears, aggression and threats are often the first option when in a dispute, status is measured by how much power one has over other people, venality underlies transactions and goras (white people) are charged double. Because moving the work forward, settling disputes and resolving a daily crisis was my task, I felt forced to act in ways I didn’t much like to get the job done. It's hard to be totally non-attached.

We are now in the middle of building six guest apartments for our future retreat programs. These will be really nice and a big boost for events out on the land. Visitors will actually be able to stay out on the land in comfort whereas right now, it’s still pretty much camping. Amol, Sundeep and Dhruv (in the photo) are the Sangha members who are financing and coordinating this project and they’re doing a great job. They’ve been able to streamline the construction process and have found a good contractor/supervisor and architect with whom to work. In another month or two, we’ll begin the building of a complex of residential flats for members who have already made down payments. For this we’ve hired a professional project manager from Delhi to supervise the work relieving Biraj and me of that duty. This time, we won’t be in such a rush and we are insisting upon plans before we begin.. In other words, we’re trying to do it right and learn from what happened the last time. If all goes well, the guest house should be ready by March and the first homes by the end of 2011. (See the photo of where these homes will be built)

Right now, Biraj, Dharmadas and Nirmala, along with a dozen other ashram members (six of whom are monks) live at the community in Watunde. There are another eight or nine staff of cooks, drivers, watchmen, spouses and maintenance men. About one dozen core members of our Sangha live in Pune, driving out on weekends to participate in community activities. Sadhana Devi and I continue to conduct classes, meditation groups and satsangs in Pune city with the intent of building up a local congregation in the city to support the activities out on the land and eventually, when residential space is available, we hope some of these people will move out there.

Sadhana Devi's and my job in Pune is just about done and soon we will move back to Gurgaon to help with the work in the Delhi region. When we came to Pune in 2008, almost half of our Gurgaon ashram also shifted shortly after, putting a strain on those left behind and last spring a number of Westerners in the ashram returned home, reducing the population even further and leaving the Gurgaon ashram short-handed. They’ve responded well with expansive energy by remodeling the ashram basement into a beautiful new temple/classroom and have begun to offer many more activities, drawing loads of new people. As a result, the place is now hopping but without enough experienced members to handle it all. Dhyana, leading the center, has done a fantastic job stirring up the energy and now needs help. So, to Gurgaon we go for our next assignment.

Sadhana Devi and I will miss Pune. It’s a much more livable city than Delhi or Gurgaon. The scale is smaller and the people seem friendlier. It’s a town of young people, colleges, neighborhoods and motorbikes. The countryside is not far away, it’s green half the year, the air is clean, the weather mild and you see less disparity between rich and poor as evidenced in so many Indian cities. People are mostly employed and beggars are few. I think it fair to say it’s also more traditionally “Indian” than Delhi and certainly more so than Gurgaon which is a city of glass towers, fancy homes and shopping malls. To be fair, Delhi too has its charms. Give me time and I'll maybe think of one. (Just kidding.) As the national capitol, it’s important for us to have a dynamic work there and I expect us to expand our efforts even further. With a solid foundation of strong souls already in place, something special in Delhi will come up in the coming years. We’d love to have you visit and see for yourself. You are always welcome.