Talkin' Toilets: Discovering My Voice Regarding Sanitation Issues in India

Did you think I was kidding?

There are a number of benefits that come along with living at a conference centre that’s been operating in the area for the past 40 years. One is that the people here have a million connections and now and again they work out to provide us with some unforgettable memories. Enter 2008 Toilets 2008.

We organized half of the group here to visit a couple of villages last week. The state of Maharashtra has actually done admirable work in developing the rural parts of the state. Loads of money gets poured into rural infrastructure giving some locals access to everything from decent roads and sanitation to clean water systems and telecom. Our first visit, quite brief gave us a clear a good image of a tiny and ideal strawberry farming village on the plateau ridge, home to only 40 families. Remarkably picturesque and a sparkling example of leadership. The village council (known as the Panchyat) has used seemingly every government break to boost their condition.

This trip whetted the appetite to spend more time out in the countryside. The next morning we bolted Panchgani and drove down to Wai in the Krishna Valley. On the outskirts of the small town we entered a village of almost 300 families and about 3000 people.

The pomp and circumstance of a VIP arrival in India equates to that of a college commencement processional. We arrive and are seated on freshly unfolded mats. Everyone in the group receives a garland and a coconut. In India, “Guest is God” and one can almost feel embarrassed by the amount of attention and gushing given to visitors. To be honest, it didn’t take me long to get used to this cultural beauty. On one level, I do feel that it’s undeserved, but on another, is their any reason at all to try and deny a host? I think not. And to be honest, it’s even better if you are a son. So instead of fighting any urge to shoo away this “Guest as God” business, I openly embrace and just give gracious thanks. Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Fortunately, we had a chance to give back to the community by helping with a village cleanup. Litter is one of India’s black-eyes. Actually, coming from the States, the issue is shocking and pervasive. City to farming village, plastic wrappers and pieces of paper turn the serene landscapes into ugly sties of humanity. Its by far one of the things I find most frustrating here, so I leapt at the chance to lend a hand. We did well, using Indian style brooms to pile up the rubbish before lighting it all on fire. Some villagers joined in the effort and we took some encouragement from their engagement in the process.

After the warm morning and even spicier lunch, we took a needed Indian post-lunch siesta and awoke to a new task from the Panchyat. We were to become ambassadors. No, not for our countries or for the values and community we work with as AfL, but for something far more practical. We would become the spokespeople of sanitation. The fellows of flush. The experts on excrement. The idea, in brief, was to tour the village and speak to them all about the ned for toilets. The state had just imposed a law that all village homes must have a toilet facility and this village aimed to win the prize which would insure statewide recognition and some million rupees for the coffers. Un surprisingly, the Panchyat saw in us a chance and they leapt at it.

So we went on 2008 Toilets 2008. It started with disaster, as they led us (now a group of about 25) to an old woman’s home. Our fixer grabbed my Ukranian friend, Yulia, placed her in front of the old woman (bewildered and reasonably unhappy about the attention) and told her to tell the woman about why she needed a toilet. With good reason this made the group fairly uncomfortable and I immediately approached our fixer friend and said we’d need to take a different tack on our sanitation persuasion tour. He read the group’s morale completely – depleted after the first encounter – and assured me that the rest of the tour would be done “our way”. With no other choice but to trust him, most of set off again.

“Our way” turned out to be brilliant. We ended up just getting the local tour of the village of about 3,000. I’ve now probably seen every kind of village toilet available and in every stage of construction. It was most excellent to be introduced as VIP and then shown into the villager homes (very modest) and then have the village council show off their people and their wonderful toilets. I was interested, they were proud and all in all it was more or less incredible sanitation circus of good times. Not used to foreign visitors, a pack of village kids started walking with us and our processional topped out around 75 people. What an experience.

Now I know, you must ask. Did I use one of these toilets? Sad to say, I actually did not. For one, I didn’t need to go. For two, I think it would have been strange to walk into someone’s home and ask to use their toilet, especially when public toilets were available. So I missed my chance. I know this will bring a big sigh for all you epicures out there…

As our entourage returned to the main square, we were seated on the village stage and were the honored guests at a stunning cultural performance. The kids put on a major dance performance that lasted about 30-minutes (a serious workout) which explained a lot about the length of Bollywood movies (get them hooked into excessive dance at a young age) and then the real coup: sitting directly outside a circle of the village elders jamming an epic groove with tablas, a harmonium, small cymbals and a chorus of call and response. Noted throughout the region, they played for a solid 30 minutes and I soaked in every minute.

If that wasn’t enough, they gave us more coconuts and gifts before we put on a short presentation for them. It seemed the very least our weary souls could do for them.