The End of an Era...Adieu!

I've held back on my last post as I didn't want to jump in when the first two weeks back have been manic. It's been a bit weird to say the least. I amazingly made it back into Heathrow on the day my flight was scheduled (though postponed by 9 hours). Many others were stranded. On my arrival the ground was covered with snow which made for a very lovely Christmassy atmosphere and I was met by my parents who in their outstretched arms held a blanket and a warm flask of tea. It was good to be back.

But the first few days were odd. I had to eat about four bacon sandwiches over the first few days in order to satiate my cravings. I had to remember to put toilet paper into the loo and not in the nearest available wastepaper basket. I spent a lot of time emailing, calling friends and visiting. 

I had an odd moment when on Xmas eve I made a mad dash round a nearby town to see if I could get a last minute present for my brother which was a DVD he'd requested and I'd forgotten to get him. After visiting six shops I was forced to enter the ASDA. In a big nameless town in Essex, ASDA is the last place you want to be on Xmas eve. My senses were assaulted not by spices and horns beeping but an altogether different kind of mania. My companion pushed me stupified onto the travelator to get up to the first floor. Looking at my screwed up face she said yes it's full of common people in here isn't it? It wasn't the people it was the bananas. The veg aisles (note the plural) were stuffed full of enough produce to feed an rural Indian village for weeks. I hadn't seen anything like it for months. Then a woman's screechy voice with an undeniably Essex brogue screamed that the turkeys were half price and we should all rush to the meat counter to purchase her extra meat. Jeez. Coupled with the grabbing of merchandise going on around me, I nearly passed out at the cacophony of materialism going on inside the store.

At home I pretty much didn't leave the house for two days over Xmas and slowly returned to normality in the UK via the TV (there's one bonus of the old set you know). Well travelling Kerala and diving in The Andamans for three weeks helped too. I have since completed my rehabilitation and after two weeks in the UK I am settled right back in, I'm back to work and behaving normally. Well I say normal but I'm definitely more Indian now. I stand closer to people on the tube and personal space is less of an issue these days. I occasionally burp out loud and realise I am in so-called polite company. but at least the toilet paper goes where it is supposed to.

I'm looking forward to this year. I think bigger, I want another challenge, I have plans and I have new interests. It's all good and I'm still in contact with Deaf Way and VSO and here to assist with anything they need. The internet is a marvellous thing, eh? I miss my colleagues but I know I won't be losing contact with them. No need to be sad, I just gained some very good friends. Will I go back. Hell yes. In some way or another.

The other thing of note is I have enjoyed blogging and YouTubing immensely. It has sparked off a writing hobby and I now regularly turn my musings into short stories. I am putting a natural end to this blog in order to spend time on the world of fiction. 

To complete these musings, here are the things I wished I'd written about and didn't have time:

The shockingly high incidence of sexual abuse of Deaf children

The lack of a decent bilingual education for Deaf children

Rubbish, (the lack of proper) recycling and ragpickers

Climate change in India

The levels of corruption in the Government

The experience of practicing Buddhism in India (eye-opening)

Why people get involved in development work (cos we're lovely?)

How development work changes your perspective of life back home (it really does)

There are obviously many other things that never would have reached this medium but that's me to know and you to find out. For now...Adieu!

Lost Weekend: Finishing up in Delhi

Ok so it wasn't a lost weekend but where did it go? In fact the last 4 weeks just went. In training they tell you the last month of a VSO placement will be gentle. Tidying up loose ends, saying goodbye, eating cake. That sort of thing. Not here.

I was busy trying to squeeze in training for the Delhi Half Marathon (I haven't yet got sick of dropping that into conversations). I had a visitor over from the UK then I remembered the strategy plan for ASLI. There was the flat to finish up and furniture had to be sold and belongings packed. An unbelievable amount of stuff vomited itself out of my wardrobe and the flimsy cane bookshelves yielded a bumper crop of jewellery and brass Hindi mini-Gods. I started the clearance. There was four or so bin bags for VSO volunteers to rifle through. This is a benefit of someone leaving - you get hand-me-downs for your usually sparsely equipped cupboards. Judging by the amount I was getting rid of I must have done well over the last year. The remaining went to the cleaner and there was an inordinate amount of stuff to be posted and couriered back. Frightful. I clearly can not travel light.

After the house sale I had my leaving party. We made a profit from the goods we bought last year so that provided the beer for what was to be the last party in the house. Arun of ASLI/Deafway fame (i.e. the wonderful man I have had the pleasure to work with over the last year) provided the food and manned the barbeque in exchange for being fed with Kingfisher. The Deaf Way staff created amazing canapes and took over food preparations. I concentrated hard on drinking and saying my goodbyes. I had an amazing time and it was a wonderful send off after an unbelievable year.

It was back in the office on Monday after partying, moving out and dealing with a hangover of proportions not seen yet this year. I managed to finish some final bits and we had the obligatory pizza (Puneet, the IT and English teacher, was leaving too). After lunch I said my goodbyes and there it was. I blubbed. Totally unexpectedly. Anyone who has kept up to date on this blog will know how much I have enjoyed being here. And that is a gross understatement. I've lived, worked and breathed Delhi. Anyone who knows how dusty it is here can imagine the hardships I may have had to endure.

'Will you be back?' is the question du jour. I hope I have given some idea of how much the Deaf community is still being discriminated against here. Interpreting services are just one part. Education where sign language is virtually banned, not being allowed to drive, a total lack of equality when it comes to employment, no mental health services, a lack of academic sign language and interpreting qualifications...it goes on. I'll be offering any assistance I can from the ether. And I have some plans afoot but I'm not done in India just yet. It's all about the R&R and taking some time out to consider my next steps. It's the beach for me for now. 

Coimbatore - Interpreter Training Course Number 3

There are always some ups and downs in the first few days of the interpreter training. You rock up in a strange new town, unpack and prepare yourself and the trainers for what is to come. You take a long look at the list of names, their backgrounds and talk about their potential.

Some of the people that you thought had promise and you were excited about just don’t turn up on the day: illness in the family, changed minds, live too far away, think because they have done a sign language course they don’t need to learn about interpreting. The last reason is the most disappointing. The primary aim of the training is giving specialised interpreter training to those that have language skills whether they are bilinguals by virtue of having Deaf family or friends or because they may have learnt some sign language already. Sign language and interpreting skills: two different things people.

It’s great when you get random people turn up, those that you thought may never come and they transform over the week into knowledgeable, committed and passionate people. Being in an immersive environment for 9 straight days with members of the local Deaf community, learning from Deaf and interpreter trainers about linguistics and Deaf perspectives makes people’s ISL skills and use of specialised signs shoot through the roof.

We’ve had tons of people having light bulb moments. The guy with a Deaf friend who thinks that Deaf people don’t know very much – he’d only met one Deaf person who’d had a terrible education. A couple of days with our brilliant Deaf trainer and he was a changed man. The teachers are often the best to see. In Coimbatore we were lucky to have three teachers of the Deaf attending. All had worked for a few years and some had a basic level of signing. One broke down and cried on day one. She said going through the sign language assessment that she realised how difficult it is to understand in a different language and how bad it was that she hadn’t used signing with the children for four years. I’ve found that these light bulb moments are the turning point for people. They improve dramatically and often go on to be the strongest advocates of Deaf people and sign language.

As this was the last course I’ll be attending I have spent most of my time refusing to deliver or facilitate sessions in order to watch and play a more supportive role. I’ve been in the background watching, advising and providing input where necessary which gratifyingly has been hardly at all. I was struck down by fever one day and took to my bed in the Deaf Centre in the next room. From there I could hear them all happily role-playing away. When I popped my flushed bedhead into the room to see if everything was ok I was sympathetically told to go back to bed!

After two previous courses and an evaluation process it seems the changes we have made have left ASLI with a course that can be delivered for months to come to many potential or existing interpreters in India. I’m chuffed and really proud of the course content. Dramatic changes occur to participants over the nine days and it amazes me every time I see it. I can’t wait for the day when India gets much longer interpreter training programs. Just imagine the results that will be possible then.

All Aboard...

I was 5 hours into a train journey last week when I managed to get my battery starved laptop on, cranked up the internet and tweeted: …another 37 hours to go. 42 scheduled hours from Delhi to Coimbatore in Tamil Nadu. A cool 2611 km away. That’s nearly two and half times the entire length of my home country, Great Britain.

These long train journeys in India are renowned for running late. As I stood on the platform at New Delhi relishing the freedom of the outdoors several announcements came across the loud speakers: We are sorry to announce the Shatabdi Express is running late by 10 hours and 37 minutes. We regret any inconvenience caused. We are sorry to announce the Puri Express is running late by 8 hours and 23 minutes. We regret any inconvenience caused. The train name usually becomes a bit of a misnomer.

I was lucky though. I left on the morning of the 28th at 11:30 and was due to arrive almost two days later at 05:10 on the 30th. I actually arrived a little after 6am but what’s another hour between friends.

Several snacks, some chatting with my fellow travelers, one of whom was traveling to Kerala and would be on the train for 52 hours, waving at small children who were looking up to my upper berth, a lot of reading and sleeping and it was all over. If you want to see the inside of an Indian train I took a video last year on the Puri Express and it’s up on YouTube. That journey was a monster 34 hours so nothing really.

The most amazing thing about train travel in India is you might lose a couple of days in comparison to the 4 hour flight but the damage to your pocket for over 2500km of travel in 2AC, i.e. air conditioned carriages with only two berths per space (upper and lower) is the equivalent of ₤30. Bargain.

Round 2: Interpreter Training in Kolkata

The first course was in Delhi and was our tester. This was Kolkata and this was for real. We had our Deaf trainer to lead the course for the first 2 days teaching Deaf history, community and culture delivering in Indian Sign Language (ISL) so clear and wonderful that most participants couldn’t take their eyes of him. After talking to our contacts we realised the impact we were already making. It seemed West Bengal had never seen sign language like it.

We had 13 people turn up who consisted of 4 members of staff from a Deaf organisation, 3 teachers of the Deaf, 3 parents and 3 people who already were interpreters. The staff of the organisation told us about a dire lack of services in the state for Deaf people. For example Kolkata has around 4 schools for the Deaf, all of which use the oral method of teaching, which means using speech not sign language. Famously in 1880 a conference of educators for the Deaf banned the use of sign language in schools. This was a decision which caused much discrimination and took education of the Deaf back to the middle ages. Anyone who is Deaf or works with Deaf people will tell you stories of Deaf children having their hands caned, tied behind their backs or sellotaped together. This is the equivalent of gagging someone. We happily reported that the ICED had formally rejected the 1880 resolution after 130 years opening up a new era for Deaf participation and respect for sign language in education. Two of the teachers of the Deaf, who depressingly didn’t know ISL, didn’t come back the next day. I’d like to think some of the teaching got through to them. This is one reason why Deaf Way will be doing a survey of Deaf education in India soon.

After the first 2 days of teaching and working out the results of our language assessments we had a core number of participants who were either already interpreters or had good enough ISL to start a course of interpreting. Arun Rao, ASLI’s president and trainer supremo, and I led the next 7 days of intensive interpreter training. The number was less than we wanted but it was a sad fact that our course was five years ahead of its time for this state. We ploughed on though and took on the challenge. One of the students bought in a figurine of Saraswati, the goddess of education, culture and knowledge so we put her on the front desk to give us all good luck. I was really buoyed up by the willing attitude of the participants to get involved and learn. We had great fun again doing the role plays and putting people through their paces. We had 3 local Deaf people who helped us with role plays and assessments. It was essential to have their input and their assistance as users of the Bengali dialect of ISL. It was so much fun watching them act out scenes as parents or shoppers to Arun’s dour shopkeepers or angry school principals. All of them deserve Oscars.

We had one more hiccup, a typical Bengali Bundh. This is apparently a monthly occurrence of an all day strike where the city shuts down including shops and transport. The police are out so anyone breaking the strike is fined. We couldn’t hold the course as people were coming from too far away so we agreed to have longer days. This meant I could get on with some work and spend some time relaxing by watching some lapdog TV.

After those long days and enjoying some great Bengali fish it was time to wrap up the course. There was a marked difference in attitudes, skill and competence by the end of the week and again it was a real pleasure to be there to see these improvements. One person said she didn’t know how we could possibly teach that much about interpreting in 9 days but we had made her realise it was a complex process that deserved more follow up courses.

I’m now armed with more changes to make before the next course which will be in Coimbatour in Tamil Nadu. After a break in Bodhgaya, the good work will be continued...

Training the Interpreter Trainers

We just completed the first interpreter training program for bilinguals i.e. people already fluent in ISL (Indian Sign Language). This was a bridge course over 9 full on days. Many cups of Chai were quaffed to get us through these manic days. There may also have been a few rounds of cake...

ASLI was funded by VSO to provide this pilot course in Delhi followed by four more courses around the country. The idea was that I would write the course along with Arun Rao, the President of ASLI, who has delivered courses before. We amassed training resources such as ISL clips and started with language assessments last Monday. We’d already hand-picked our first cohort to cover a range of experiences and locations. Some of whom will become our first interpreter trainers. We then invited a few Deaf people with linguistic training to become our first batch of Deaf trainers.

In the reality of the classroom I was able to gain more insight into what the interpreters needed. Each night I went home to make notes on the days training and to prepare for the following day. Some of the material was pitched too high and I have tons of scribbles reminding me how the course will be changed for the next batch.

The definite highs were being able to observe and give people feedback. One participant said she had never had feedback in 15 years of working as an interpreter and felt she had gained a lot from the course. I’m really happy we managed to cater for both new and experienced interpreters. Everyone agreed the practicals were the most fun so next week I am working on more ideas to get people active in the classroom. I believe we have given these interpreters practical tools and information that they can use out on the job. As this was my main placement objective I am so pleased we have completed the first course successfully and have feedback so we can make improvements.  

It doesn’t end there. On the third day of training we got word that the government had approved our training. This means interpreters passing the course will be able to get an ‘A’ Level certificate with the government. The ‘A’ level is the first qualification with ‘C’ being the highest available. At least 3 of our first batch are already at ‘C’ level standard or above. ASLI is working on getting higher level qualifications as both interpreters and Deaf people recognise this is not yet enough.

Most ‘A’ and ‘B’ level courses offered consist of ISL teaching only and little interpreter training. Although our students can only get the ‘A’ certification at the moment, we have given them a grounding in ethics, more coping strategies for when they are in high pressure situations, information on how to better work with Deaf people and a chance to practice in a safe environment.

Along with the news of certification came funding to carry out an additional five courses making ten in total with the VSO funding. ASLI will now be able to create up to another 130 interpreters in this programme of training that will looks to continue long after I have left India. ASLI also has the potential now to build on the first using evaluation programmes and further courses taking ‘A’ level interpreters through to ‘B’ then ‘C’. The ultimate aim is getting higher level courses in place and jobs for interpreters. India’s interpreting profession is still going through its first baby steps and like a proud parent (or rather participatory cousin) I am happy to be here to experience it along side everyone.    

Blogpost for VSO: My Story So Far

So I've been at it again: blogging for others, this time for VSO.

They asked me to write of my experience so far. Now it's been a whopping 9 months it was a good chance to reflect and summarise the work I have been doing and what I am expecting of my remaining few months.

It was great having the VSO UK media team visiting. We had lots of fun taking pics with staff and as it was my first day back from holidays it was a nice way to ease myself back into work and being back in India.

 

You can see some more pics and read the VSO blogpost summarising my antics here.

The Indian Sign Language Academy - A Work Update

Back in February the Finance Minister announced in his budget funding for a Sign Language academy. The Deaf Way Foundation Director, Arun C. Rao, wrote a blog post and detailed his delight alongside his concerns that the Deaf community would not have effective participation in decisions as to how the academy would be run.

Here’s some background: India has over 500 schools for the Deaf, only two of which use Sign Language. The trend is very much towards the oral, audist approach of teaching and is therefore not successful. The government provides this schooling up to class eight. With the bare minimum for any employment worth considering a pass at the 10th class with any decent job requesting a class 12 minimum standard, Deaf people have been left behind for years. The academy should push forward the agenda of bilingualism and create Sign Language modules for the B.Ed. programme that teachers of the Deaf must take before being let off their leashes in the classroom. In short, teachers have been, for years, teaching in a language the children do not understand.

Interpreter provision is sketchy at best, non-existent at its worst. Interpreters are mostly provided by NGOs  such as Deaf Way and ad hoc interpreting done by bilingual family and friends. Deaf people complain that the interpreters trained by the government organisation are unintelligible and the classes mostly teach Deaf studies and basic sign language. Deaf Way will be delivering the first of five courses in August directly to those already working and skilled giving them quality teaching on ethics, interpreting theory and practical ways of improving and supporting themselves after the course.

The centre will ultimately give Indian Sign Language (ISL) the due it deserves and if successful in its current proposed form, the centre could be the biggest Sign Language Research centre in the world. The Indian government has the chance to bring forward ISL and the efforts of the Deaf community into line and even become a global leader in Sign Language linguistics.

One thing that surprises me is ISL has no real body of literature yet. There are no Deaf film producers, actors, poets, writers or presenters here as there are in the UK. The academy will encourage the Deaf community to be creative and will catalogue the results showcasing them at film festivals and other celebrations of the language.

In all the belated and important work being proposed what I am working on is just a start. The interpreter training is the main task, alongside side providing interpreter support and consultation for the National Association for the Deaf (NAD) in creating their government proposal for the academy. These proposals have been circulated within the Deaf community and consultations have proved fruitful. I was working on the proposals with NAD right up until I left for my holiday to ensure all feedback was included and the budgets were feasible. It gives me great pleasure to read another one of Arun’s posts and see the NAD proposals are being well received by those in the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment. It looks like Deaf people and ISL will finally get the recognition they deserve.  

Lingua Franca

Learning two languages has been a challenge and one fraught with usual faux pas. In Hindi if you don’t roll your R enough in Kurta (shirt) it sounds like kutta (dog) and everyone giggles. I mostly use Hindi for auto drivers and vegetable shopping so I find that it hasn’t developed as much as I’d have liked though at times I sound quite good.

The other language I’ve been learning is Indian Sign Language (ISL) and it is one of the languages of my work here. In the UK we use British Sign Language (BSL) and I’m fluent. It’s a common myth that there is a universal sign language. Pretty much every country has its own sign language due to communities developing their own just like spoken languages developed. Sign Languages have been researched by linguists as early as the 1960s and proven to be full languages in their own right. As many different sign languages have similar grammatical features once you learn the vocabulary of another sign language it can become much simpler.

But there are still complications. As one of my first encounters with ISL was an international sign linguistics conference in Delhi I met many Deaf people from around the country. Trying to learn a new sign language is a bit difficult when you’re meeting people using five different dialects of ISL from as far apart as Delhi, Mumbai and Kolkata. Also some Deaf people prefer using the American finger spelling system. In Delhi they mostly use an alphabet similar to the British system. Finger spelling is used for spelling anything that doesn’t have a sign or does but you just don’t know it! It’s more complicated than that but I won’t go into that here. I find it gets interesting when people fingerspell Hindi words to me. Luckily these tend to be about food so I’ve obviously learnt all those words.

It was really hard at first trying to remember to stick to very visual elements of the language and to pick up the Indian signs along the way. Sometimes I have to work hard to decode the language if I don’t know what the subject is. Once I know the context it’s much easier and I just get it. I find myself wishing I could just sit around the office chatting to the Deaf staff and students but it’s a mix of Deaf, hearing interpreters and sadly, laptop time as work must be done.

The hardest things to learn are the real cultural signs that have been adopted into ISL. Many of these are slight head nods or certain movements of the hands. Some of these signs are used by hearing people on the street gesturing to each other that something isn’t possible or when they are agreeing to something. But it’s great when it all fits in and I love it when I sign in ISL without coding from the BSL first.

And just like Hindi I’ve had a faux pas in ISL. In my first month I asked a Deaf member of staff what the sign for toilet was. I spelt it out and asked for the sign. I wondered if it was appropriate but thought that’s an important sign to learn and I really wanted to find one at the time. He held out his first two fingers palm facing upwards and pulled them back. Not many people use toilet paper here which is why eating with your left hand is taboo. So in my naivety and surprise I thought the sign was a graphic description of what Indian people do in the bathroom. Anyway a month or so later whilst chatting with staff over lunch about travel arrangements I realised what the man thought I had spelt: ticket.     

Here’s some info is you want to know more about Sign Languages:

World Federation of the Deaf – Factsheet on Sign Language

Learn Indian Sign Language

UCL Mini-lecture: The truth about sign language

UCL Video - A visual people and a visual language

 

Pics:

Hindi Alphabet from Google Sites

International Women's Day from The Deaf Way Foundation

Indian Interpreter Idol: The Search is on

Someone recently made a comment about my blog that it was personal and not about work. It is true. There have only been a few references to work and I wrote about our national conference.

Thing is, it’s pretty difficult to write about everything I’m doing. Just like in offices around the world there is a lot of background work but the glamorous big events don’t happen that often. (And the occasional paint throwing at Holi.) If I waxed lyrical about a meeting I had or a simple email I received I’m pretty sure people would stop reading.

I recently gave a presentation about social media to other volunteers. This was more to do with my enthusiasm for YouTube and Twitter than any specific form of expertise. Something I mentioned was to be careful what you blog about. Your neighbours or the people you work with may be reading. If you’re not getting on with someone, you definitely shouldn’t be making it public.

I also think that a blog perhaps isn’t always the right medium for what I'm doing. Occasional tweets can be seen about how work is progressing but I mostly don’t want to go into all the details now. What I can say is what I am working on is pretty big. There are only 100 known interpreters in India for what estimates have guessed are 4 million Indian Sign Language (ISL) users. A number that is less than my previous estimates due to generations of Deaf children having little access to ISL in their education and many rural Deaf people being isolated from the rest of the signing community. There is hope that education for Deaf children will improve but this will take time. There is hope that India’s laws will change. This will also inevitably take time. There are other projects my NGO works on. My work is on increasing knowledge of interpreters in society, supporting interpreters and finding potential new ones. The talent is out there. It is like Indian (Interpreter) Idol at the moment in our office as we hunt them down.

What I will say specifically, is I am six months in. It is the half way point. After one month’s training followed by five months in placement, I get it. VSO says it takes time to build those all important relationships, to understand the context in which you are working and to be apply your knowledge to the work. It feels like all the prep has been done and we really are cooking on gas. To get everything done in the next 6 months is going to be pretty hairy. We need support, there is a lot of work to be done and it is not as easy as this would be at home. I’m really positive. We have a good team, excellent vision from the Director and everyone I work with is enthusiastic and gets it too.    

Forgive me if I blog more about life than about work. It’s not all yoga, swimming and travelling. I just don’t want to give the game away. How much better is it going to be to report on the success afterwards?

If you want to know more have a look at the Facebook page and join the group to receive updates. We are also on the web here. And if you want to enter Indian Interpreter Idol and haven't done so yet please contact us.

Easter in Varanasi – Bodies, bulls and bacteria

In Delhi they say travel before April when it really hots up in India. Two other volunteers, B and N, and I decided on a last trip to Varanasi before the summer months. On the day we arrived at New Delhi train station in good time. The boards weren’t showing our train and the enquiry desk had a queue of people that snaked almost out of the station. We went up to the bridge that crosses all platforms and each board above each platform was showing different information than the boards downstairs. Dodging porters with three suitcases apiece on their heads and the occasional sleeping body we traversed the bridge looking at each board. None showed our train number. We went downstairs. The boards were stuck over an hour behind at 5.30pm and we were due to leave at 7pm. We had 20 minutes to find our train. Panic was going to set in soon.

After another few runs of suitcase dodging and body hurdling we were getting desperate. We eventually found three men that looked like they might know. Platform 9 they said and we ran. T minus 5 minutes and counting. People trundled along in the heat, toddlers sprang out of nowhere and huge families blocked our path. On the bridge we reached platform nine. No train number was apparent as we hurtled past and down the stairs. We checked the charts plastered on the carriages. It was the right train but we were another six carriages away from ours.

Suddenly the train started moving. Luckily the health and safety rules that exist in other countries don’t in India. We ran to the nearest open door and jumped on the moving train. We walked down the train sweating and laughing to the amusement of our fellow passengers. Two carriages down and the door to the next carriage was locked. A passenger told us the door would be opened after five or so minutes. After ten minutes the door was still locked and the train had stopped at another station. We made another run for it.

I shouted to the other two that we’d reached our carriage and to hop on at the next door. I heard a shout back as the train started to move, ‘It’s locked!’ We ran back screaming and laughing with our rucksacks on. It must have been great entertainment for the usual passengers strewn around the platform waiting for their delayed trains. ‘Quick get on, get on!’ ‘Hurry up and get out of the way!’ Spectators wouldn’t have needed English to understand what was happening.

We finally found our seats. As we were in different parts of the carriage we decided to take three seats in one berth and hope we wouldn’t be moved on. We spoke in pidgin Hindi and English to the man in the remaining bunk. He later laughed at us bored playing The Name Game and told us there is an Indian equivalent called Antakshari meaning last letter.

We had the usual staring from male passengers but our friend was gracious and friendly. Helping to find out what had happened when we didn’t get blankets and there was no food service. It was a new train, named the ghost train by B. No wonder it hadn’t existed at the station. I was grateful for his presence when I woke up in the middle of the night to a man sat on my bed as my friends were sleeping soundly in their upper bunks. I sat up speechless upon the sight of the stout greying man dressed all in white. The apparition spoke to me in Hindi and prodded my rucksack which had been jammed behind my head. Baggage thieves are notorious on Indian trains. I said ‘Kya?’ (what?) It was all I could muster but it was enough to wake my fellow passenger who firmly spoke to him. I could make out he was saying this is not your compartment, go and find your own. He floated out backwards with a monologue moan, ‘sorrisorrisorri’. I half expected to hear a rattle of chains as I thanked our friend before rearranging my baggage and settling down to what was then a fitful sleep.

We arrived to the usual barrage of touts and phoned our guesthouse for our pick-up. We did not disembark from our auto at the guesthouse but outside the tiny streets that lead to the ghats. With baggage in tow we trundled after our guide in 40 plus heat dodging cowpats, hawkers and temple-goers until we made it to the Ganges and our guesthouse. After dumping our luggage we went to explore the ghats and the tiny maze-like streets.

Whilst walking past a stall, we noticed a Deaf guy signing to his friend. I said hi and we got chatting to him and his three friends. We took them up on the offer of being shown round the next day and some sari shopping. I love how the Deaf community is so small. When you bump into anyone in the world you find out they know the same people. They’d all met the Director of my organisation at campaign rallies for the rights of Deaf people. In the heat we let our new friends and moved on to find lunch and much-needed shade.

Shortly after, we nearly got run over by a dead body under a colourful cloth being carried aloft on a stretcher by six men. Draped with garlands of flowers they made their way between the piles of wood for cremation down to the ghats where the body would be burnt on a pyre. Rumours are rife of body parts being seen floating down the river as poorer families can’t afford the more expensive wood needed to fully burn a body. On a sunrise boat trip, we saw the strange sight of people sifting ash by the funeral pyres for jewellery and gold teeth.

Varanasi was a strange delight and our eventful train journey should have been an omen of what was to come. A fun afternoon was spent marvelling at famous Banares Saris with our new Deaf friends. It was relief to get off the streets where the goats munch garbage and buffalos wait to be milked. A particularly grumpy one had seen my red kurta and tried to go for me. A local man had to lead me back shielding me from the bull to get back to my friends. When I thanked him he broke out into a grin and charmingly said, ’You do not need to thank me. It is my right and my privilege to help you in my country. I spent the next few days wondering how I had managed to pack what seemed to be everything red in my wardrobe.

We ended our last day by having a lassi with our Deaf friends. As I was signing away I could see passers-by forming a small crowd until they got bored and moved on. I could hear the lassiwala say to B and N, ‘she knows their language?’ It strikes me as ironic that this humble man who lives with a buffalo outside his shop understood immediately that sign language is another language. How is it possible that some members of the government fail to comprehend this when they suggest ISL is merely a set of gestures relating to Hindi?

Unfortunately that lassi was what probably gave us the bug that left N ill on the train home that evening. B wasn’t feeling too great either. We didn’t get our waitlisted tickets for our original train back causing more chaos at the station. The one we got instead went to East Delhi forcing us to get a Metro back into town. Lucky for us we had got chatting to a passenger who led us to the Metro station. I’d explained that B and N were ill. He marched me to the front of an hour long queue for tickets. When the man behind me protested he responded, ‘These are guests in our country. You should treat them as such.’ I was received with a gesture to move forwards to the ticket window which I gratefully accepted under the circumstances. When we parted at the Metro interchange he made sure we got to the correct platform and I shook his hand vigorously marvelling again at the kindness of strangers. Thankfully my bacteria decided to strike only after I’d gone home and been to the shops for supplies. I’ve been pretty much hunkered down since we returned two days ago and have been swallowing antibiotics regularly ever since. I’m definitely heading back to explore more of Varanasi in the cooler months. Next time I think they’ll be no ghost trains, no lassis and definitely no red clothes.

Travels, Touts and Trauma

After my recent conference my guest speaker and friend, over from the UK, stayed on for a tour of Delhi, Jaipur and Agra. He has Usher Syndrome which means, in his case, tunnel vision as well as being Deaf. For someone with this condition it can be pretty tough getting around. Imagine then visiting India: a place with few pavements, mentalist driving, little awareness of disabilities and a general level of what feels like chaos. There were incidents right from when he arrived at the airport all the way through to when he left.

To start with, we arrived at a hotel round the corner from my house where my guest would stay. I am not allowed male overnight visitors at my flat and this has been written into the tenancy agreement. My landlord is part of a lovely but rather conservative India family who live on the ground floor. The hotel staff looked perplexed to see their new guest arrive. As the two of us chatted in Sign Language they stared. The staff asked many questions and were horrified when he explained that they cannot knock on his door as he will not hear. They didn’t get it at first but then started to realise the implications of his being there and panicked. As I walked back to my pad at 4am, I wondered how this was all going to work out.

Over that week the staring I usually get went to a whole new level. A white woman, using Sign Language and guiding a man around when pavements are bumpy i.e. most of the time, attracts a lot of attention. We had a few near misses with motorbikes and a few occasional collisions with Rickshaw wallahs, a few stumbling off kerbs and autos trying to drive off whilst my friend was attempting to get in. There were some funny moments and some that were pretty stressful.

The Indian ASLI conference went very well. In India the Deafblind community are not so well integrated into the Deaf community so I had to show a few people how to communicate with our honourable guest. Once people had seen hands-on signing or were told about tunnel vision, they just got on with it. Having my guest at the conference proved to be an awareness raising exercise. In fact that is how the whole trip turned out.

With the conference over we headed by coach to Jaipur. It was impossible avoiding touts whilst being a communication guide. I shouted ‘Jao!’ (go away) more times than I have had to so far. When we got to the hotel however, the receptionist started signing away. Turns out he had a Deaf friend. Bingo. A bit later on one receptionist said my guest couldn’t go out alone until we put him straight. Later that evening he successfully went out on his own in the company of a Rickshaw-wallah. Being forewarned about gem scams in Jaipur, he returned safe.

Whilst visiting the City Palace, my guest had his first haggling experience. Later a Deaf man approached us as he worked in the shop and had seen us signing. If you’re Deaf you meet other Deaf people all over the world. It’s a known phenomenon. Some people had no patience but then you can get this wherever you go and whoever you are. Many more though watched our interactions then would try to make gestures so they could communicate directly. Some helped with the job of guiding once they knew how.

We travelled onto Agra to see the Red Fort, Agra town and the infamous Taj Mahal. A place famous for touts and con artists, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I was lucky to find an auto driver to stay with us for the whole day saving us the hassle of negotiating a price each time. He was very patient and helped out whenever he could. A conman got my guest into the Taj for free as he wanted to take half our entrance fee afterwards. We went in for the cost of my ticket alone and left him outside penniless. There was more being bumped into by passers-by, more stares and logistical nightmares. When you have the beauty of the Taj in front of you though, nothing else is important.

After a late trip on the train back to Delhi we had a day of tourist fun there before my guest went home. Straight to the Red Fort where my guest got another free entry. I declined to go shopping at Janpath. The security guard looked horrified when I said it was just him going in. I told him I would happily accompany my guest if I got in free. This was declined so off I went much to the consternation of the guard.

Later we headed to Old Delhi. My guest got followed, grabbed and no amount of Jao-ing got rid of one man so we ducked into a street food place for a samosa and a lassi. Once replenished I negotiated a rickshaw so we could be cycled around the chaotic streets. When we got out our Rickshaw wallah tried to rip us off and wouldn’t give me my change. We were suddenly surrounded by ten young men who fought with him to return the cash. We ended up getting our ride for half the price I had negotiated and one man told us to leave as the argument continued. I whispered my thank yous and got my friend out of there with relief and gratitude at the kindness of strangers.

Many disabled people here are stuck at home, isolated or just not visible in public. Society here rarely sees positive role models as India has far to come in accessibility, understanding and awarding people their rights. One man told him that he was amazed as my friend was far better off than many here such as the many illiterate and destitute living in poverty. I think my guest, in his short time here, gave many people food for thought and did more than he knows for raising awareness of how it should be in India.

Would the real ASLI please stand up?

Seven weeks into my placement and we had a conference for the Indian ASLI. Coincidentally ‘asli’ in Hindi means ‘real’. Only a week or so after I started work this was decided. What a shocker. VSO tells you to take it easy for the first few weeks to get to know people, learn more language, form those all important relationships we are told are critical for sustainable development. I’ll be honest. My first reaction was great! Then I descended quickly into thoughts such as ‘I’m an interpreter not a conference organiser’, ‘How can I do this when I don’t speak Hindi’, ‘Two staff members have just left, we have no capacity’, ‘We have no moolah’, blah blah blah. Often, I battled with some such negativity which had to be turned into a challenge, something positive. When you are volunteering and working in a different environment in a different way the old ways in which you used to work no longer apply. It just felt like too huge a challenge to take on so soon but you somehow have to find ways to remind yourself that it will be ok.

The support I had from other VSO volunteers here in Delhi was fantastic. One of whom is going soon and I will miss her very much. Her insight and perspective after a whopping three placements was invaluable. She would make me repeat VSO mantras over coffee outings: ‘I am here to advise’, ‘Relationships with colleagues are important – doing admin tasks are not’.

After a few hiccups and a massively steep learning curve, preparations started to go very well. We got some great speakers. We suddenly managed to get some funding and with one phone call out of the blue, we had the money. One courier lost most of our letters, our emails bounced back. Somehow some of our publicity worked. People came from all over the country from as far as Hyderabad, Chandigarh, Ludhiana and Bhopal.

Even the hiccups were dealt with efficiently and without fuss. One speaker had an emergency and could not attend so we got his presentation on DVD and played that instead. It seemed whatever happened we just handled it. I learnt a lot about my colleagues at that time and formed a deep respect for them. I like to think that the conference planning actually helped to form those important relationships.

The benefit of having such a big event early has meant I could meet many interpreters from all over the country that are already working, many without access to training or support. We completed a survey to ask members what they wanted. I now know far more about sign language interpreting and the Deaf community in India from this experience. This will inform our future planning and how I complete the placement over the next nine months. With the benefit of that all so important 20-20 hindsight, it was the ideal way to make a start on the job.

Indian ASLI Facebook Group:
http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=280662800900

Websites:
http://www.signasli.org/ 
http://www.vso.org.uk/

On the Road for Deaf Drivers?

I was asked to go on short day trip with work. Excited to be on a train out of Delhi, it was a great chance to chat to my colleagues out of the office, to get ideas about where my work with them and VSO will go. On arrival we got picked up by a Deaf man. I was astounded. I’d noticed some tweets on Twitter before I came to India that Deaf people aren’t allowed to have driving licences and here was someone Deaf driving.

It was explained like so: they can drive so they do, the law is behind on these things. Fair play. India is more than behind on this one, why wait?

The Chief Executive of my organisation is currently going through every law relevant to Deaf people in India, and there are many, to advise government about the necessary changes to bring them in line with the UNCRPD and human rights recommendations. He has been reading out of parts of the law and they are archaic. It’s a bit like hearing about some of the old laws in the UK still in existence such as, a man who feels compelled to urinate in public can do so only if he aims for his rear wheel and keeps his right hand on his vehicle.

The National Association for the Deaf (NAD) has been campaigning for Deaf people to be able to hold driving licences for some time. Last week NAD were featured on page two of a national newspaper, The Hindustan Times. There was news that the Supreme Court of India had turned down their appeal on the grounds that driving here is more dangerous and they wouldn't be able to hear the honking.

In comparison to some countries driving here is more dangerous but that doesn’t make Deaf people any less able to drive. There are only 26 countries where Deaf people are not yet legally allowed to drive. It’s a shame then that India is one of them. Anyone who has been to Rome or Paris can see the chaos there where Deaf people are allowed to drive. Can a driver playing tunes with a thumping bass hear the honking? The appeal was turned down illogically. I spent some time in the car and I was no more scared than I usually am!

Sign 4

They say try not to see anyone from home in the first few months of your placement as it can make you feel homesick. I didn’t have much choice as I attended the Sign 4 conference held in New Delhi from the 17-19/12/09. Needless to say, I didn’t feel homesick but rather it was great to see some familiar faces and hear about people’s experiences of India. I’m extremely grateful to two British colleagues who I’d texted beforehand and they’d brought over some supplies for me. Thank you both (you know who you are)! As an aside, these supplies were Marmite, Nutella and red wine. You can get anything you want in New Delhi but it comes with a price. A small jar of Marmite comes in at a fiver. To put it into perspective, this is more than a day’s allowance. Eating local wherever you are is always going to be cheaper.

The conference didn’t directly relate to my placement as it was on Sign Language linguistics but as it turned out it gave me an overview of the development of interpreting in India from the perspective of a University and a chance to meet some Deaf people from India. I could also practice my International Sign Language and meet Deaf people from around the world. There are many reasons I am doing a VSO placement. One of them is that I’d been after some international experience for a while. There are a few conferences around the world you can attend in linguistics, Sign Language, and both Deaf and interpreting associations. This felt like the start of that international experience except I was there as a new resident of India to work with the community here for the next year.

How good it was to see an International conference for Deaf people held on Indian soil. There is much to do here for Deaf people and any international events can only strengthen the case for government to set up the post of an Interpreter for Deaf people. Until it does it will be unlikely that people will want to work as interpreters with no formal employment and no recompense for that role. The government has said it will recognise the job when there are more interpreters. The chicken and the egg? It seems so. I hope that any work I can do out here can play some part in getting the egg hatched.

First Day at the Office

The flat hunting saga continues but work must carry onas ever. I spent the first two days of this week visiting many flats with nothing vaguely suitable. It's quite weird searching out accommodation in Delhi and the search has certainly been eventful. But that is a whole other story.

It is Wednesday and it feels good to have gone to work today to start what I came here to do, four weeks after arriving in country. In country orientation (ICO) involves four weeks of talks and language training. In our intake we also had a strategy conference thrown in which was by far the most beneficial part of our ICO as it was an opportunity to hear from Indian speakers who were heads of NGOs, experienced VSOers and a leading academic talking about key trends in India.

By the end of ICO everyone is itching to get to their placements. Having said goodbye to most of the 18 people with six of us staying behind in Delhi, it was time to start work. I’d been to my new office the week before to say hi to the staff and still managed to get lost.

It was an enjoyable twenty or so minutes as Nehru Place is an entertaining corner of Delhi. The main part looks a little like a built up 1960s British concrete shopping centre. A grew up near one in Edmonton in London. The same one that was immortalised by Frank Spencer in an episode of Some Mothers do Have ‘Em. You may remember the episode where he is uncontrollable on rollerskates. You can’t see much of the centre on the clip but it is similar to the old Tricorn in Portsmouth. The difference here is Nehru Place is a hotbed of IT activity. The middle of the street is taken over by men selling wallets, shoes, socks and ripped Hindi movies. Apart from a few cloth shops, most of the rest sell IT goods or can repair them. Want a laptop in Delhi? This is the place to come. It is to computers and stereos what Tottenham Court Road is to London.

Amongst the wallets teenage boys lurk waving lists in plastic wallets of every type of copied software imaginable. Sam Miller in his book on Delhi said Microsoft once hired an elephant to trample on CDs in Nehru Place to make a point. He then states many of the sellers brag that Microsoft employees based in Nehru Place often buy fake copies of Windows themselves.

My first day was great. I got to meet more staff, learnt more about what my VSO placement will entail and practice more Indian Sign Language. My laptop had a mini-malfunction but thanks to one of the IT shops the staff managed to get it connected to the network. It seems I’ll get stared at a lot working around here as I didn’t see one other Westerner today. It may take some getting used to, but it’s quite nice being in this corner, away from tourists and a lot of other expats.

The YouTube clip is available here.

World Disability Day 2009

Some countries call it the International Day of People with Disabilities. Others the World Disability Day (WDD) as it is named in India. Whatever the label, with 70 million disabled people in India it is a day that needs celebration. A day that asks politicians to sit up and take notice. A day for disabled people to raise awareness and to champion their cause.

WDD has been held for the last 3 years at India Gate, under its imposing arch, far bigger than the Arc d’triomphe or Marble Arch. India currently has the People with Disabilities Act (1995). An act that disabled people and organisations say is weak. It follows the medical model of disability which says that disability is something to be treated. It does not address fully what society can or should do for disabled people or what their rights are in terms of education, health and access.

Despite this seemingly weak stance India ratified the UN Convention of Rights for Disabled People (UNCRPD) on 1st October 2007. It was the sixth country to do so but so far it is a piece of tokenism. Little has happened since. The underlying theme of WDD in India this December was to refuse amendments to the current law and create a stronger rights-based law, empowering disabled people to live fulfilled lives as equal citizens.

With regard to Deaf people the current law mentions Deaf people a handful of times including once in a definition, twice in the names of organisations that serve the Deaf community. There is not much else. It is as useful as a jumper on a hot summer day in Delhi.

It was gratifying to be part of the day, to see people out in force. With 5,000 people present it occurred to me that the many people attending seemed to be Deaf. I asked someone where everyone else was. I was informed transport is so inaccessible here that many who would have wanted to attend would not have been able to do so. Many NGOs do not have spare funds to put on transport to solve this issue. Without this, without disabled people turning up at events in force there is less likelihood of politicians seeing the changes that are necessary.

Perhaps enough will be done by the disabled people’s movement as a whole and by pressure from NGOs and external countries to get India's politicians to catch up. Perhaps there will be funding and transport for people to attend. Perhaps media efforts will be enough to raise the profile of disabled people in India. What I saw today was some incredibly passionate and committed people. A feeling of disappointment at the past but hope for the future. People had come from as far away as Orissa and Pune to attend. We're talking over 24 hours spent on a train to be there.

The UN’s message for WDD was ‘realising the Millennium Development Goals for all. These goals were set out by the UN to be achieved by 2015. They include providing a universal education for all and eradicating poverty and hunger. With disabled people often being the poorest in society due to a lack of access and exclusion from society, India has a lot of work to do over the next six years.

YouTube clip online now.

A Wecome to VSO India

After language lessons in the morning we were herded into these fantastically old-fashioned taxis. I sat in the front and got told to pretend my seat belt was on. There was no other end for the seat belt to go. As we sped round roundabouts and our driver aggressively dogged traffic my feet were twitching as if I might somehow be able to hit the brakes should we be heading for a collision.


We arrived at the VSO India Programme Office with a very warm welcome of garlands of fragrant carnations strung about our necks. We were introduced to the office staff. As I was saying my name I looked up and saw a member of staff signing to another so I waved a hello and signified that I knew sign language. The head of the office asked how we knew each other. I said I didn’t but just recognised that someone was Deaf and was saying hello. Therein lies one beauty of sign language and being able to communicate, albeit slowly perhaps with anyone in the world. It turned out the Deaf man was the cook and after a gorgeous lunch of spicy beans, a spinach and paneer (cheese) dish, rice and chapattis we got a chance to chat more.

I was surprised to see a lot of crossover with British Sign Language. I could use the British alphabet which was still used in India alongside another set of differently signed Indian vowels but either signs could be used. Some signs such as ‘mother’, ‘father’ and ‘work’ were clearly taken from American Sign Language and some were quintessentially Indian such as ‘born’, ‘taxi’ and ‘sick’. Of course it is difficult to base assumptions on having chatted with one person so I’m itching to get in the DeafWay office and start meeting more Deaf people.