Away From Devil’s Island
Living on an island, with lots of palm trees and long and sandy beaches is probably one of the most common clichés of living in paradise on earth. The people of Sattankuppam in Tamil Nadu have it all. But life there seems anything but heavenly to them.“Actually it’s more like hell, after the tsunami,” says 26-year old Sumathi, a teacher at Sattankuppams’s primary school. The NGO of Caritas India and MSSS – the local Caritas of Madras – made a plan to construct permanent shelters for the people of Sattankuppam at Davamani village, a safer place on the mainland, a 15-minutes-ride away from the place they are going to leave soon.  Villagers of Sattankuppam disussing the designs of their houses with MSSS-director Fr. Arul According to regulations of the Indian Government, the inhabitants have to hand over their old residence to the Government, once they will be accommodated in the new shelters which will be completed by February 2007. Villagers’ feelings about moving out of the island are mixed. Some villagers say they are happy to leave the place and understand they have to give up their old house for a new one. Others find it hard to accept these regulations and would like to possess both the places. Especially the fishermen claim that the place in which the permanent shelters are constructed is quite far from their existing place. “It would be,” explains one of the men at a village meeting, “too time-consuming and expensive to get access to the sea from the new the new Sattankuppam.” Hence, most of the fishermen think that their existing place should be used for placing their fishing gears, nets and boats and to watch over their fishing occupation. In long negotiations with the Government, Caritas and MSSS could make sure that at least for this purpose the fishermen will be allowed to still leave their sheds and fishing equipment on the small island and get access to the sea from there. The women of Sattankuppam are worried about some other issues. Many of them don’t have any work and gather every day in the village just to pass the time away with gambling and chatting. Sumathi is convinced: “It will be much easier to find some work on the mainland.” She is certain about it. Caritas and MSS have already decided to support them with skill trainings and helping them to find jobs once they are shifted to “Sattankuppam 2” as it will be called. |
And are the children happy? “We all will be happy to live on the mainland,” says Sumithra on behalf of all of the boys and girls from Sattankuppam. “Now we have to ride 40 minutes to school by boat every day. And after school we have to wait for the boat to take us back to our island in another 40-minutes’ ride.”
 Sumithra Sumithra is having a quite pragmatic view of how she and her friends will lead life from next year on. “We will be able to learn more from the school and yet play more and make much better use of our time, once we don’t have to waste time on long boat rides.” Being a very flat island, with hardly any elevated land at all, the ‘Devil’s village’ was totally flooded by the monster waves on December 26, 2004. The 400 families living there still were, as Sumathi puts it, “lucky that only three people were killed – girls who were collecting shells at the shore when tsunami struck.” But ever since that fateful day, most of the people are having sleepless nights, living in constant fear of another disaster, always worried whenever the sea is too rough. When Caritas and the local diocese Madras Social Service Society (MSSS) offered them to shift them to the mainland, most of the people of Sattankuppam immediately appreciated the idea. Yet their feelings are mixed. After all, this island has been home to them for generations.  Women in Sattankuppam Malarkodi Gurusamy, a woman in her forties, recalls the day of horror: “Within a few seconds I saw about 20 to 25 feet high waves rushing towards our village and I screamed, thinking something bad was going to happen to us.” Something bad happened indeed: Three children, collecting shells at the shore when the tsunami struck, were killed by the huge waves, all the boats and nets at the shore were damaged completely. “When we saw the devastation,” says a fisherman of the village, “I said to myself that everything is lost now and we have no life hereafter.” Yet the tsunami waves did not have the power as it had in other places in India. True, it killed people – a horrible loss that can never be compensated. True, it destroyed the livelihoods of the villagers who exclusively live on fishing. But at least it did not damage the houses. Due the disaster prone location of the village and considering the trauma its inhabitants are still suffering from, the complete village will soon be shifted.  "Goodbye Devil's Island - Children from Sattankuppam Copyright text and photography: Stefan Teplan First published by Caritas India, 2005 |
Ruin And Reconstruction
“Ruin and reconstruction”, the Greek philosopher Epiktet said, “are close neighbours.” The truth of that proverb is most visible in the two years that have passed since the tsunami in India. Reconstruction does not only refer to houses. People who lost their business and source of income also faced (economic) ruins. And it took some people a lot of strength to start all over again and not give in to moaning and depression.
The story of Palaniappan from Hut Bay is a marvelous example to that. Hut Bay is one island of the Little Andamans, known as Bengali settler’s area where, 140 kilometers south of the Andamans’ capital Port Blair, plenty of green vegetables and other crops are cultivated. After having attended a successful vocational training “Acani” – the diocesan Caritas of the Andamans and Nicobar islands – in Port Blair, Palaniappan soon started to run a bakery. He worked hard to be successful but when the owner of the building asked him to vacate the shop, Palaniappan his new business came to an end. He had no other choice but to go back to “his” island of Hut Bay. He married a Bengali girl and, with some money gained, opened a bakery shop again on the island. This time, however, he was less successful. After some time he had to make a living as an agricultural laborer like most people on fertile Hut Bay do. His small income didn’t allow him to save any money to ever run a bakery again. His dreams and ambitions were shattered; indeed he felt his complete life was ruined. But, as he realized later, all he needed was some encouragement – and a little bit of financial support next to a psychological one.
When tsunami struck, Palaniappan was just as horrified as everyone on his island. Yet, however disastrous it was, Palaniappan today sees it as a blessing in disguise. In the course of the tsunami relief he met Father Joseph and told him about the hardships he had to face. Father enabled him to receive a starter’s package worth 10.000 Rupees to run a bakery again. Father Joseph was right in trusting this man. Palaniappan worked so hard, involving his whole family in the business that the family – starting their work at 4.00 a.m. every day – had a turnover of up to 3000 Rupees a day, with a daily net profit left of 700 till 900.
Acani’s director Father Johnson, who is closely collaborating with Caritas, has visited Palaniappan twice. Palaniappan told him that his life once had been so miserable and full of grief that he couldn’t express it in words. But having one person like Father Joseph trust in him and lending him just 10.000 Rupees, he had taken “the challenge and got so motivated that he had to be successful again.
“This man”, Father Johnson told Father Joseph, can serve “as a role model for others” to see what willpower can achieve.
Palaniappan is already eager to take up this role: He offered, out of gratitude to the priests who helped him when he was down, free bakery courses to every person that Acani will send to him.
Copyright: Stefan Teplan
First published in the book “Waves of Hope”, India 2006
Children And Tsunami
Writing, drawing and painting were some of the coping mechanisms children developed after being traumatized by the tsunami. Stefan Teplan collected some of their works (see also the story “The Young Girl And The Sea” in this blog).
FROM LOVE TO HATE
I loved the dancing waves
But they came as a tsunami
I loved the blowing breeze
But it came as a storm
I loved the fertile earth
But it came as an earthquake
From that time on
My love turned into hate
M. Anandakala , Nagapattinam, 13 years old
OH MY SEA
Oh my sea, you became my nightmare!
Can’t you have as much mercy
As much as you have salt?
How could you destroy us
While we were playing at your shores?
We were born as your children
Is that the sin we committed?
You gave life to the fishes in your water
But why did you destroy the lives
Of the children at your shores?
Please allow us to live hereafter!
Shamila, Nagapattinam, 15 years old
MY DEAR OCEAN
If feelings could be words
I would be able to tell you
My dear ocean
How much I loved you!
How many times I came to play with you
Even without getting permission.
I cried for the beatings I got.
You made only me cry that day.
But today you made thousands of people cry
Taking away their houses, belongings, kith and kin
You have deserted us!
You, the sustainer of our lives, have taken away our lives.
So I hate you!
I hate you so much!
Yet, I want to thank you, tsunami!
You know why?
You brought so many people to take part in my life.
So many people whom I had never seen before or even dreamt about
Helped us to rebuild our lives.
For this I thank you, tsunami!
Now I am not angry with you.
I love you, my dear ocean!
Kokila, Tarangambadi, 13 years old
Copyright for all words, translations and photography: Stefan Teplan
“We do much more than building houses”
“We do much more than building houses: We are permanently with the people”
Giving new homes to people whose houses where destroyed by Tsunami, the NGO Caritas India hired a team of experts to provide professional construction management advice to the local Partners. The shelter team – Brig. M. J. Joseph (Redt.), S.L. Kanunakaran (CPWD Redt.) both civil engineers, from India and Gertrud Tauber, architect, from Caritas Austria – supported the Diocesan Social Service Societies in proper planning of the shelter projects. For that guidelines were drawn up, local architects and engineers appointed as Project Management Consultants for the execution of projects in each Diocese. The shelter team has travelled extensively to each of the villages and gave ongoing guidance and inputs for the implementation of the projects. The shelter team also organised periodical workshops to discuss major challenges and plan the way ahead, to share good practices and to get inputs from experts in fields such as sanitation. Gertrud Tauber gave the following interview a few days before her mission was completed and she was about to return to Europe.
Shelter-expert Gertrud Tauber at construction-site after the tsunami in India
Ms. Gertrud, when you look back at two years of intense involvement in the tsunami programme – what is most satisfying to you?
What I feel most satisfied about is that we have been able to provide decent homes to many people, in Tamil Nadu alone to around 35.000 tsunami affected villagers. That comes to a total of 7000 houses (average family size is 5 members). In this programme many families got pucca houses which they never had owned before.
How come? I always thought only people who had a house before the tsunami have been considered as beneficiaries.
That is correct but it depends on your definition of house. Among our beneficiaries there were many who had lived in thatched huts before the tsunami which used to collapse during heavy monsoon/floods and I do not call this a house because it is only a temporary home. As far as the selection of beneficiaries is concerned, the Government made a list but wherever genuine beneficiaries were left out Caritas extended this list after a thorough need assessment and co-ordinated this with the Government.
And looking back in anger: What has been most dissatisfying or disappointing to you?
You have to know that the Tsunami Shelter Project in India was run as public private partnership which means a certain task sharing between the Government and the NGO. This process led in some areas to enormous delays in the allocation of land – which is Government’s duty – and the completion of projects, because Government took a lot of time to plan for infrastructure after we had done our work.
I don’t look back in anger, but the major area of improvement is collaboration with the Government in some of the districts. Though the Government has done tremendous work there was some delay in the allocation of land – which is the Government’s responsibility and – providing necessary infrastructure after we had done our work.
Some European journalists criticized that in some areas there was not enough land and, as a result of that, the houses are too small and too close to each other.
I think it is very important to be clear from which perspective you are looking at the project. You cannot compare habitats in India to European standards. The Indian population density is much higher than in Western countries which results into a much lower per capita land availability. All things considered the Government has laid out the norm of 325 sqft of each dwelling unit (in Tamil Nadu). That means that whether rich or poor in the old village, now everybody gets the same. These are newly built habitats and in course of time they will develop and expand. We need to give them time. In all the places where people have moved in you can see that they individually make some changes and extensions. We constructed the houses in such a way that people can construct a second floor.
Why could you complete some villages quite fast and why did it take so much time in other areas?
As I told you, the government in some areas took a lot of time to allocate the land. As long as land is not allocated we could not even start with the planning , because we have to know the special nature of the soil to know what we have to consider statically, what special kind of foundation we need for that territory.
You said NGOs in Tamil Nadu could be more creative. Is there a difference between the shelter projects of Caritas and other NGOs?
I think there is a great difference as far as the quality of our approach is concerned: Operating through the social wings of the Dioceses we are permanently with the people and do not just build houses and then go as some other organisations did. We feel responsible not only for the quality of the houses but also for the process that starts after the people move in. It is important for the new communities that we accompany them and let them know we are always with them. As far as the quality of our houses is concerned we made sure that the best material have been used, we used corrosion-resistant steel for instance because we are building close to the sea and that is a highly corrosion prone area. And all our houses are earthquake-resistant and insured for ten years.
When you started to plan the houses, did you also involve the beneficiaries?
Yes, we did. We formed a shelter committee in each village which was actively involved in most of the places. They participated during the planning stage of master-plan and house plan, so they decided for example if they wanted to have a toilet inside the flat or detached outside of the house. That’s why in almost all the villages our houses are different according to the needs of the people. But within one village all the houses are designed in the same way, so there is no inequality.
What is your own personal conclusion of your involvement in the tsunami programme?
When I came after the tsunami and we saw what and how much had to be done, we could not see any light at the end of the tunnel. And when I compare this to the status quo I must say: We really accomplished a lot. Now the communities are growing in our villages and structures will change and I am curious how this process will develop. That’s why I would like to come back in a few years to see the villages again.
Interview: Stefan Teplan
First published in the book “Waves Of Hope”, Caritas India 2006
Young Girls In The School Of Life
By Elisa Rossignoli and Stefan Teplan
Role plays and dancing - all part of "Grihini"
Do you know how to prepare dhal properly? Do you know how to embroider, how to sew, how to stitch? Do you know how to clean a tiled floor? For all those whose answer to one of these questions has been “no” there have been “Grihini”-programmes for more than 40 years in India. Grihini simply means housewife in Hindi because according to traditional views all these things are the things a young woman should know before she gets married. So Grihini has always been a programme for girls. Especially girls whose education was not sufficient enough to fulfil the tasks of a housewife, like school-dropouts, were sent to Grihini-programme by their parents, to make the young women fit for life, fit for family life.
On the Andamans the tsunami not only caused death and destruction, it also endangered the Grihini-programme: one building in Mayabunder, north of the Andaman’s capital Port Blair, was damaged so severely that some of the girls might have gone totally unprepared for the challenges of a housewife, had there not been the help of the diocesan Caritas “Acani” (which stands for Andaman and Nicobar Catholic Association).
Acani did more than renewing the building. It renewed the whole programme. In the time of globalization, their consultant Sr. Roselyn – Caritas-India-expert for gender and community issues – claimed, young women have to know more than cooking, cleaning and stitching. “We cannot reduce them down to stereotype roles if we want to give them a chance to cope with life in the 21st century.” According to Sr. Roselyn the questions today have to be: Do you know what is happening to your body when you grow up? Do you know how to open a bank account? Do you know how to apply for a job? Do you know about women’s rights? So after a thorough revising of the old concept the girls in Mayabunder and in Port Blair, where another “Grihini”-school is located, have other subjects (in addition to the traditional ones) on their timetable since September 2006: health and hygiene, physiology, gender awareness, job orientation, everyday life performances outside and not only inside of the house.
Sr. Flavia with her pupils
And since this is much more than simply preparation for a life of a housewife the name “Grihini” just doesn’t fit any longer. Acani now calls it: Kishori shashkti karan. Which is also Hindi and means: Empowerment of adolescents.
The young girls in Port Blair and Mayabunder are delighted: “Before I came here, I thought being a woman is a waste”, says one of them as we visit their school. She grew up with the feeling that only men count in this world. “Now”, she says, “I am happy to be a girl.”
Another one says: “I was, frankly spoken, afraid to come here because I was afraid to speak. I thought all the other ones would laugh at me because I hardly speak any Hindi. But to my amazement nobody ever laughed at me and now I end up in speaking fluent Hindi.”
Some of the participants of this empowerment-programme are nearly illiterate. Their knowledge of Hindi is not very well as they have Sadri as their mother-tongue. That’s why Sr. Flavia, who is running the “Kishori”-programme in Port Blair, makes sure the young women first get confidence and have the courage to speak, although their vocabulary and grammar may be far from perfect. Confidence-building through role plays and various activities is one of the major concerns of Sr. Flavia and the Acani-team supporting this programme.
Sr. Flavia and her colleague Olympia are the two teachers employed for the school in Port Blair, but they are not the only ones teaching. Unlike the old concept, with one single teacher, now there are several experts training the adolescents. There are for instance doctors from a hospital giving lectures on health issues. Or there is the chance to participate in vocational SHG-trainings of Acani. Recently the girls had the opportunity to join an agricultural training on food processing.
The girls in the Andamans thus are prepared to more than just marriage: they are prepared for life. As for marriage the question remains: Why should only girls get prepared?
“There is a lot”, one of the young girls claims, “that men also have to learn. They ought to know how to take care of children, they ought to know how to treat us when we are pregnant, and they ought to know more about women’s rights and gender issues.”
The term “Kishori sha shakti karan” is not confined to women. Who knows, maybe in a year Acani will run a programme like this also for the other sex?
Copyright: Elisa Rossignoli and Stefan Teplan
Photography by Elisa Rossignoli
The Healing Of Nightmares
THE HEALING OF NIGHTMARES
by Stefan Teplan
Stefan Teplan (l.), Sr. Annama (3.from.l.), Sumathi (r.) visiting a family in the Andamans
One does not live by bread alone. Sumathi realized it not until she had some bread again: She could not eat any longer. However, she lost much more than just her appetite. Neither could she sleep any longer. And, in some quiet moments, she was thinking to herself, she even should not live any longer. At least she was asking: What for?
Sumathi had experienced what – to people in India and Thailand, Sri Lanka and Indonesia – has become a synonym for the most horrible, most traumatic nightmare you can imagine. Something like war. Or rape. Or torture. Or maybe even worse: A nightmare called tsunami.
It seemed to be a never-ending nightmare. Though it only lasted ten minutes. Externally. Internally, it kept torturing Sumathi on and on. Day by day and night by night. “All these horrible pictures kept revolving in my mind”, the 25-year-old Indian says. “Just as that strange humming sound used to haunt me like a bogy. It sounded like an aeroplane coming closer, but very very frightening, increasing in volume with every single second passing.” It was the sound of the tsunami wave rolling towards the shore, rolling over the shore at the speed of some 500 miles an hour.
Sumathi comes from the region most affected by the tsunami, being closest to the epicentre of the tremendous earthquake of Dec. 26th 2004: Car Nicobar, the main island of the archipelago of the Nicobares. Even an early warning system – had there been one – would have proved useless there: the time-interval between the earthquake and the tsunami-waves hitting the shore was not more than five minutes. Yet, to Sumathi and her family, these were five decisive minutes to at least save their lives. Everything else was taken away by the tsunami.
Panic-ridden and shocked by the earthquake, Sumathi, her husband and her little child, rushed out of their house at the shore, to find refuge in the jungle, yet having to climb a steep hill to reach it. That hard-to-climb hill turned out to be a blessing in disguise. They escaped the tsunami-wave, mounting up to a height of about 80 feet, only by a hair’s breadth.
“Later, when we looked down, everything at the shore had gone. No house, no plants, not even the trees, were there. There was only water. Everything was flooded.” Thousands of people from the surrounding villages had died – those who did not make it to the top of the hill in time, those who stayed back, those who wanted to take a few more minutes to pack their belongings.
Flooded area in the Andamans after the tsunami
The pictures flashing into Sumathi`s mind during these moments kept haunting her in a constant flashback after she was, two days after the disaster, replaced – as one of 2500 people relocated who lost their homes in Car Nicobar – to Port Blair, the centre of the Andaman and Nicobare islands. In a temporary shelter at Bamboo Flat, close to Port Blair, she got everything she needed to survive. That is: nearly everything. Food to live on. A room to live in. Yet, there is more to life than food and clothes and accommodation. There is more to human beings than just a body. There is a soul. And of what use are bread and shelter if the soul is suffering?
Caritas was aware of that when, after its first relief activities, the organisation started to finance and provide psychological help for the victims, with Sister Roselyn Karakattu in charge of all psychosocial care in India. Closely cooperating with the dioceses of the areas affected as well as with the organisations of CHAI (Catholic Health Organisation of India) and Sarthak (a Hindi-Wort for “meaningful”), she established a network of psychosocial workers in every village, in every shelter, working on three levels. Level 1 are the primary health workers, assigned to identify traumatized tsunami victims and find out how deep their traumas are. Depending on their reports, the affected will be assisted by the secondary or tertiary level. Secondary health workers have attended a special psychological training to deal with traumatized people. The most severe cases that require treatment of a psychiatrist are, on the tertiary level, left to special experts, doctors and psychiatrists.
One of the psychosocial experts on the tertiary level is Sr. Annama, staff member of ACANI, the diocese of the Andamans and Nicobares. Sumathi went through Annama`s therapy – and became a new human being.
Annama remembers Sumathi as “completely paralyzed and apathetic when I got to know her in September 2005. It took her three or four days to open up her mouth and speak. As for that, there was no difference between her and many other people in the temporary shelters: A lot of people there just don’t have any more motivation or the will to live. They just lie down on their beds, bored, apathetically, staring at the ceiling, unable to cope with the situation that their life, once so well arranged and hopeful, has been destroyed in one single moment.”
Looking at Sumathi I am led to believe Annama has performed a miracle. “She`s just out of all recognition, I hardly cannot believe it`s the same woman I met weeks before”, Annama tells me amazed. “Just look at her shining eyes and her bright smile. And did you notice the way she is enjoying her work?”
It took Annama a lot of patience to reach Sumathi`s soul. Patience and love. These are qualities you cannot study in a training or at a university. You need to have them within yourself. Slowly, step by step, Sumathi began to open up her soul to Annama. “New hope grew inside of her during our sessions. And she was able and willing to work again.”
The chance to make a living again is intrinsically tied to the psychological help provided by Caritas. That`s why Sr. Roselyn calls it “psychosocial help”. The entire life of the victims has to be re-established again. Socio-economic empowerment is an important part of that.
Now Sumathi is working for the diocese of Port Blair – as a primary health worker. “It seems as if she was made for this job”, Annama tells me gladly. “After our counselling, she participated in our psychosocial training and passed with flying colours. Knowing the sufferings of the tsunami victims from her own experience, she can approach them in an absolute competent and credible way. She can understand them like no other can. And I see how people trust her.
So do I when I accompany Sumathi making her visits at the temporary shelter of Bamboo Flat. “Here”, she tells me, “I have to deal with people who suffered a thousand times more than I did.” That is: people who did not lose just their entire belongings but their entire family. Or men like 49-year-old Selvam, who lost his (uninsured) restaurant at Car Nicobar, in which he invested the entire savings of his lifetime, and who survived floating, seriously injured and unconscious, on a tree trunk and feels it is too late now to start a new life. Or women like Rada who was smashed against a wall by the tsunami waves, thus breaking her left foot and just succeeded to climb on a piece of wood, with her foot aching unbearably, before she was about to drown. Later, she was saved by her son. Or girls like Nisha who, emotionally totally disturbed, confined her activities to lying on a mattress all day, quite sure her life was over at the age of 18.
Nisha (r.) and Sumathi during a therapy session
Nisha was suffering from the same symptoms as Sumathi: Anorexia. Insomnia. Apathy. And from the same movie playing in her brain all over and over again. The tsunami movie.
“By talking to Sumathi”, Nisha says, “hope grew within me. I learned to accept the fact that my old life is over, but a new life will start. Only months ago, life was dull and I didn’t feel like doing just anything. And now”, she tells me, being all smiles, “I found the love of my life, right here in the temporary shelter: I married a few weeks ago.”
Copyright words and photography: Stefan Teplan
First published in the book “Waves Of Hope”, Caritas India 2006
Women-Power After The Power Of Tsunami
By Kavya Vani and Stefan Teplan
Authors Kavya Vani (r.) and Stefan Teplan (l.) with Gauri
Tsunami has created havoc in the lives of the fisher-folk of India, no doubt about it. But it has also created new chances and better conditions for many of them and changed their lives in a way that probably would not have been possible, had there not been the urgent need to completely reorganize and rebuild their lives after the disaster.
We deliberately use the term fisher-folk instead of the more common term fishermen because the fisher communities exist by the participation of men and women alike. In most cases it is the men who go fishing. And in most cases it is the women who do “the rest”: the processing, drying, storing, selling and cooking of the fish. True, they could not do this if the men had not caught the fish before. Also true is: the men could never make a living of fishing if the women did not sell it. Without the women all this fishing would be useless. So both parties rely on each other and that is a fact that has been widely neglected before the tsunami. It took this horrible disaster and the social work of the Catholic dioceses and NGOs like Caritas to promote the importance of women in this process.
The activities of the social wing of Chengalpattu diocese, Chengalpattu Rural Development Society (CRDS), a diocesan Caritas, may serve as a good example. With the support of Caritas they founded a fisher-folk-federation in summer 2006. And they made it very clear right from the start: Women and men have to be equal and should participate equally. There should be a gender quota of 50% as far as membership in this federation is concerned – just as men and women share the work in the fishing business fifty-fifty.
Fisherfolk federation meeting in Pannayur Chinna Kuppam, South India
CRDS did not have illusions and, knowing about the still existing and still unjustified hegemony of men, knew it would face opposition. But thanks to the convincing work of CRDS-programme-manager Jesuin and social worker Mrs. Mary Peter the men in the villages, after some awareness trainings given by CRDS, accepted women’s participation. A bit reluctant at first, but even optimists like Jesuin and Mary could never expect that a few months afterwards many men were really enthusiastic about this concept. Men meanwhile are feeling the need of participation of women in the meetings. As Nehru, Panchayat leader of Pudupattinam, puts it: “Men only think of boats, nets and engines whereas women think about the house, the children, their education, health issues, hygiene and necessary infrastructures for the village. So we strongly feel that women’s participation in the village development is vital and is enriching our community discussions”.
Women have also brought more culture into the meetings. Before they participated in meetings, the men, as one of them at a federation meeting admitted, “very often shouted and used rude words; sometimes we were even fighting. Now, when women are around, we behave much better.”
There might still be some men who do not appreciate this fact, but they are the minority. Mani, President of Block level Federation (the federation’s structure has for levels: village, block, district and state level) claims that “in the panchayat meetings there are men from neighboring villages; so if any conflict arises we will use abusive languages and sometimes it might lead to physical violence. And if there are women present it might be difficult for them to hear or see things that are not conducive”.
The men and women organized in this federation feel that they are much stronger together; they start to experience the power of being allied. Before the tsunami they never came together for any common tribulations. They were neglected and rejected in the society where they felt they had hardly any recognition. Dhavamani, Vice Secretary of the federation on the block level in Kadalur Periya Kuppam, is very well aware of that fact: “If I come alone to ask something or put my grievances forward, nobody will pay attention, but now, if we go collectively as a federation, it has much more power.”
Through this federation, men and women in the fisher-communities have got a platform to fight for their recognition and rights. Members are realizing the essence of coming together for a common mission. Kannappan, Panchayat Leader of Thazhuthali Kuppam, makes it clear: “If there is any problem in the neighboring village, let the members of the federation know so that we can come collectively to solve the issues”. He feels that after the formation of the federation they have a real stand in the masses.
The meetings of the fisher-folk-federation are organized in different villages every month. It was for these meetings that the women had the occasion to come out of their houses and villages. Gowry, president of the women’s group in Pannauyaur China Kuppam, “initially felt reluctant to go to another village for meetings. But after going there and meeting other women, I realized that I can help my village to move forward in this process”.
Men are coming forward in coordination with the women to take decisions concerning important issues in their villages. Still, women are not yet included in the panchayats, but the village of Thazhuthali Kuppam wants to make a start and include women in the future. If this takes place in all the coastal villages, it will be the biggest milestone in the Fisher-folk community. In this way, whatever havoc it has wreaked, the tsunami has turned from a curse to a blessing.
Copyright: Kavya Vani and Stefan Teplan
Copyright photography by Stalin Soosa Rathinam (1) and Stefan Teplan (1)
Power-Frau macht Frauen-Power
Porträt der indischen Sozialarbeiterin Mary Peter
Mary Peter aus Tamil Nadu / Indien. Foto: Stefan Teplan
Eine gute Frau kocht. Eine gute Frau putzt. Eine gute Frau bleibt im Haus und macht ansonsten den Mund nicht auf. Besonders nicht, wenn der Mann spricht. Klischeebilder und Vorurteile solcher Art, bei denen jedermann/frau aus emanzipierten Gesellschaften die Haare zu Berge stehen, sind in vielen Kulturkreisen noch trauriger Alltag. In Indien etwa, das auf der einen Seite Wert darauf legt, als hoch industrialisierter und nukleargerüsteter Staat im global village zu gelten, das aber auf der anderen Seite vielerorts noch in der Steinzeit steckt, was die Gleichberechtigung der Geschlechter betrifft.Mary Peter – Sozialarbeiterin für Frauenfragen in der südindischen, vom Tsunami betroffenen Diözese Chengalpatttu – kann ein Lied davon singen. „Seit 21 Jahren, seit dem Ende meines Studiums der Sozialpädagogik, kämpfe ich hier in Südindien für die Rechte der der Frauen – gegen Widerstände, gegen Vorurteile, gegen die Privilegien, die man hierzulande immer noch den Männern einräumt. Ich kann zwar nicht sagen, dass dieser Kampf gewonnnen ist, aber ich denke, es ist schon einiges erreicht. Dabei kamen die größten Erfolge, so makaber das klingen mag, erst mit dem Tsunami.“Der Tsunami, der am 26. Dezember 2004 auch an den Stränden der Diözese Chengalpattu erbarmungslos zuschlug und tausende von Menschen um ihre Häuser und Besitztümer brachte, wirkte, so erzählt Mary „wie ein Katalysator auf unsere Sozialarbeit. Vorher musste ich Monate und Jahre zäh etwas erarbeiten, was nun plötzlich in vielen Gegenden wie von selbst läuft. Um ein Beispiel zu nennen: Das Gründen von mehr und mehr Frauengruppen bereitet jetzt überhaupt keine Probleme mehr. Wenn ich das früher versucht hatte, musste ich oft gegen heftigen Widerstand von männlicher Seite ankämpfen.
Widerstände gibt es auch heute noch, aber es ist doch viel leichter geworden.“Die meisten Männer, erzählt sie, weigerten sich hartnäckig, ihre Frauen anders als in der klischeehaften Rolle des Heimchens am Herd zu sehen. Sobald Mary Frauen zu gemeinsamen Treffen animieren wollte, konterten deren Männer in der Regel mit den Standardfragen: „Wer soll in der Zwischenzeit für uns kochen? Wer zu Hause putzen und die Kinder versorgen?’“Freilich kam auch nach dem Tsunami, als Mary und die Diözese mit Hilfe von Caritas begannen, neue und bessere Lebensbedingungen für die betroffene Bevölkerung zu schaffen, die Wende nicht über Nacht. Doch ergab sich durch den Zwang der Umstände eine Situation, in der so mancher Macho, unter ökonomischem Druck, unwillig zusehen musste, wie die ihm von Kindesbeinen an eingetrichterten „Prinzipien“ plötzlich nicht mehr gelten sollten: Frauen wagten es, aus den Häusern zu gehen. Frauen verdienten selber Geld. Frauen organisierten sich. Wurde doch bei allen Hilfsprogrammen und allen Dorf das Caritas-Prinzip kommuniziert: „Die Frauen sind mit beteiligt. Die Frauen haben überall gleiches Mitspracherecht.“„Das hagelte ziemlich viele Proteste“, gesteht Mary. „Aber wir ließen uns einfach nicht beirren oder einschüchtern. Die Tsunami-Hilfe ist eine so große Chance für den Kampf um Gleichberechtigung, dass wir sie wir uns durch nichts mehr nehmen lassen dürfen.“
Mary Peter bei der Gründungsversammlung des ersten südindischen Fischerverbands, in dem Frauen Mitglieder sind.
Da der Großteil der betroffenen Fischer unmittelbar nach dem Tsunami seinen Brotjob zunächst nicht ausüben konnte, nahmen die von Mary kräftig motiviert und unterstützen Frauen das Heft selbst in die Hand. In vielen Orten der Chengalpattu Rural Development Society (CRDS) – sozialer Arm der Diözese Chengalpattu – sorgten sie für notwendige Zusatzeinkommen, indem sie begannen, Kleidung und Nahrungsmittel selbst zu vermarkten. Inzwischen sind sie in ökonomischen Fragen meist kompetenter als ihre Männer, deren Erfahrungsbereich sich oft nur auf den Fischfang erstreckt.
“Wir suchen jetzt in vielem den Rat der Frauen. Ich gebe zu: Vor dem Tsunami haben wir dies nie getan“, gesteht bei einer Gemeindeversammlung ein Fischer aus dem Dorf Kadalur Periya Kuppam, rund zehn Kilometer von Chengalpattu entfernt, ein. „Die Frauen haben uns in vielen Lebensfragen und wirtschaftliche Entscheidungen nach dem Tsunami gute Ratschläge gegeben und wir sind dankbar dafür und wollen das so weiter halten“.
Mary wünscht sich, dass „bald alle Männer bei uns so denken wie dieser Fischer. Noch immer gibt es in Südindien leider genügend Männer, die keinerlei Veränderung der alten traditionellen Rollenverteilung dulden wollen. Doch sie können nicht umhin, das Beispiel der Geschlechtsgenossen zu sehen, die umgedacht haben und müssen letztlich akzeptieren, dass sich eine nicht mehr umkehrbare Eigendynamik der Dinge entwickelt hat.“
Vom Drang beseelt, gegen die Unterdrückung von Frauen in Indien anzukämpfen, war Mary bereits als junges Mädchen. „Das auch war meine eigentliche Motivation, Sozialarbeiterin zu werden.“ Als sie 1985 ihr Studium der Sozialpädagogik am Stella-Maris-College in Chennai, Hauptstadt des südindischen Bundesstaates Tamil Nadu, abgeschlossen hatte, wartete die erste große Herausforderung auf sie: Sie durfte für ein Projekt ein Jahr lang bei „tribals“ – Angehörige der indischen Urbevölkerung aus den Wäldern – in einer abgelegenen Berggegend leben und arbeiten. In den Kalvarayan Hills, rund 300 Kilometer westlich von Chennai, kümmerte sich Mary um die Verbesserung der hygienischen und medizinischen Bedingungen der dort lebenden indigenen Bevölkerung, sorgte für Bildungsmaßnahmen der Kinder – und gründete ihre erste Frauengruppe.
„Das“, sagt sie, „war damals noch Pionierarbeit.“ Die Idee zur Formierung solcher Gruppen kam in Indien erst in den 80er Jahren auf. Mary gelang es, allen Vorurteilen und Widerständen zum Trotz, die Frauen von den Kalvarayan Hills zu mobilisieren und sie zu lehren, ihr eigenes Leben verstärkt in die Hand zu nehmen und Verantwortung für ihre Rechte und Belange zu übernehmen anstatt, wie gewohnt, den Männern die Herrschaft über alles zu überlassen. Die wertvollen Erfahrungen, die sie in jenem Pionierprojekt sammelte, setzte sie ein Jahr später an ihrem nächsten Arbeitplatz ein: der Caritas Chennai. „Für die Caritas baute ich in einem Modelldorf die erste Selbsthilfegruppe auf. Und das war sehr intensiv. Um es zu einem Erfolg zu machen, kam ich nicht als Sozialarbeiterin von außen, sondern blieb im Dorf und lebte ständig mit den Menschen zusammen, wurde selbst zu einem Teil ihrer Gemeinschaft.“ Kein Wunder, dass Mary bald zur Koordinatorin für die Belange von Frauen und Kindern wurde.
Treffen einer Frauengruppe in Südindien. Foto: Stefan Teplan
1991 wurde die Region um Chengalpattu, bis dahin Teil der Caritas Madras, zu einer eigenen Diözese und CRDS gegründet. Mary ist auch hier weiter verantwortlich für Frauen- und Kinderfragen. Wenn sie Bilanz zieht über alles, was sie seitdem erreicht hat, kommt sie erneut auf die letzten zwei Jahre, die Tsunami-Zeit“, zu sprechen. Ohne die Tsunami-Hilfsprogramme, glaubt sie, „wäre niemals der Starrsinn vieler Männer in diesem Maß aufgebrochen. Und ohne Mitwirkung der Männer schaffen wir auch keine Gleichberechtigung der Frauen.“ Das jedenfalls, sagt sie, habe ihr ihre Kollegin Roselyn Karakattu erklärt, die die Caritas-Tsunami-Programme für Frauen in Indien leitet.
„In meinem Fall“, ergänzt Mary, „vor allem nicht ohne einen bestimmten Mann. Meine gesamte Arbeit hätte ich niemals ohne meinen Ehemann so erfolgreich leisten können. Er hat mich stets bei all meinen Arbeiten, gegen den Widerstand anderer Männer und gegen viele negative Auswüchse unserer Kultur, unterstützt und ermutigt.“
Ein guter Mann weiß eben, dass eine gute Frau eine freie Frau sein muss.
© Text und Fotos: Stefan Teplan
Erstveröffentlichung: Caritas international 2006
“Es war schon eine kleine soziale Revolution”
BZ-Interview mit Caritas-international-Mitarbeiter Stefan Teplan über die Aufbauarbeit im südindischen Chengalpattu. Im Januar wird das erste Dorf eingeweiht. Wo steht die Aufbauarbeit im südindischen Chengalpattu, die seit zwei Jahren von „Südbaden hilft“ unterstützt wird? Caritas-international-Mitarbeiter Stefan Teplan, der nach mehrmonatigem Aufenthalt in Indien erst kürzlich nach Deutschland zurückgekehrt ist, sprach darüber mit Thomas Fricker.
Ausriss aus “Badische Zeitung” vom 26.12.2006, Interview mit Stefan Teplan
BZ: Zwei Jahre liegt der Tsunami zurück. Ist die Katastrophe vergessen oder bestimmt sie weiterhin das Denken der Menschen am Meer?
Teplan: Vergessen ist sie sicher nicht. Mir haben erst wieder Fischer erzählt, dass sie immer noch Angst haben, wenn sie aufs Meer hinausfahren. Auch von den Kindern leiden viele noch unter Ängsten, trotz aller psychologischen Betreuung.
BZ: Sind denn die materiellen Folgen inzwischen überwunden?
Teplan: Ja, das kann man sagen. Den meisten Tsunami-Opfern geht es heute materiell besser als vor dem Seebeben. Im Bundesstaat Tamil Nadu, in dem auch die Diözese Chengalpattu liegt, gibt es neuerdings sogar das Sprichwort: „Gesegnet sind die Tsunami-Leute!“ Das klingt zwar makaber, ist aber wohl aus dem Neid derer entstanden, die keine neuen Boote und keine neuen Häuser bekommen haben, weil ihr spärlicher Besitz von der Flut nicht zerstört worden war.
BZ: Wie ist denn konkret die Situation in Chengalpattu?
Teplan: Ähnlich wie anderswo an der Küste. Allerdings werden viele Menschen wohl noch bis zum Frühjahr in Behelfsunterkünften wohnen. Beim Wiederaufbau der elf Dörfer hat es bekanntlich Verzögerungen gegeben, weil der zuständige und inzwischen abgewählte Landrat blockiert hat. Zum Glück können nun Mitte Januar die ersten beiden neu aufgebauten Dörfer eingeweiht werden. In den übrigen Dörfern wird man laut Plan der Chengalpattu-Entwicklungsgesellschaft (CRDS) bis Ende Februar, Anfang März fertig sein. Hoffen wir, dass bis dahin die Behörden wie versprochen Strom und Wasser bereitstellen. Hier muss sich der neue Landrat bewähren.
BZ: Und wie steht es um die Fischerei?
Teplan: Wer vor dem Tsunami ein Boot besaß, der hat jetzt auch wieder eines. Allerdings haben wir das System des gemeinschaftlichen Besitzes eingeführt. Danach teilen sich vier Tsunami-Opfer ein Boot.
Indischer Fischer mit neuem Caritas-Boot nach dem Tsunami. Foto: Stefan Teplan
BZ: Und Frauen sind Mitbesitzerinnen?
Teplan: Ja, nicht überall an der Küste, aber in Chengalpattu. Außerdem sind Frauen seit diesem Sommer auch zu 50 Prozent a n der Fischerei-Genossenschaft beteiligt – mit vollem Stimmrecht.
BZ: Bleibt ihnen da noch Zeit für das Projekt Dorfkooperativen?
Teplan: Ja, hier gibt es enorme Fortschritte. Das weitet sich ständig aus. Inzwischen haben Frauen begonnen, regelrechte Gemischtwarenläden zu eröffnen, insgesamt acht, die von 36 Frauenselbsthilfegruppen betrieben werden. Der Gewinn fließt diesen Gruppen und damit den Gemeinden zu.
BZ: Stichwort berufliche Bildung: Laufen die Kurse weiter, und konnten ihre Absolventen etwa beim Hausbau helfen?
Teplan: Ja, zum Beispiel Zimmerleute und Maurer konnten gut eingesetzt werden. Allerdings werden daraus keine dauerhaften Jobs. Die CRDS bemüht sich nun um stabile Arbeitsplätze für ihre Kursabsolventen, indem sie Kontakte zu regionalen Arbeitgebern knüpft. In einigen Fällen hat die Vermittlung schon geklappt.
BZ: Auf welchem Gebiet hat die Wiederaufbauarbeit in Chengalpattu denn bisher den größten Wandel hervorgerufen?
Teplan: Ich denke, das ist unstreitig im Sozialen der Fall. Was Father Jesus Anthony, der Leiter der CRDS, und seine Mitstreiter beim sogenannten community building, also bei der Förderung des Gemeindelebens, erreicht haben, ist schon eine kleine soziale Revolution. Das gilt besonders für die Gleichberechtigung der Frauen, aber auch für die Integration der niedrigen Kasten und der Kastenlosen, der so genannten Dalits.
BZ: Zurücklehen können sich die Helfer aber wohl noch nicht?
Teplan: Nein, im Gegenteil. Vieles muss noch stabilisiert, gesichert weiterentwickelt werden. Und dann gibt es die große Herausforderung, auch dien angrenzenden Dörfer und Landstriche einzubeziehen. Eben erst hat dazu in Chengalpattu eine große Konferenz von Caritas Indien stattgefunden. Seit wenigen Tagen gibt es dafür auch einen Projektleiter. Damit stehen wir an dem spannenden Übergang von der Katastrophenhilfe zur langfristigen Entwicklungshilfe.
The Wonder Of Kanya Kumari
Kanya Kumari is a place you’ll find in every travel-book on India because in whole India there is no other place like that. Travel writers use to switch to a more poetic language once they set about putting down in words what makes the charms of that very Southern tip of the Indian mainland. Kirsten Ellis described it as a “spectacular, wind-blown location, with nothing but endless sky and sea on the horizon” and claims “its sunsets and sunrises are unique. On full moon nights, sunsets and moonrise occur simultaneously; hovering together like a tangerine and a golf-ball.” Studying the “Lonely Planet” – probably the world’s most popular travel guide – you will learn that Kanya Kumari is a must see as the “Land’s End” of the Indian subcontinent where “there is a merging of three oceans: the Bay Of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea.”
There’s a lot more that could be said about, as it is also called, Cape Comorin – that it is one of the most popular Hindu pilgrimage destinations or that bathing in its waters is said to wash away sins. Since December 26th 2004, however, the history of Kanya Kumari is associated with another, totally unpoetic and profoundly sad event, too horrible and too unbelievable to describe: that was the day when Kanya Kumari has become one of India’s most tsunami affected areas, preceded only by Nagapattinam and the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. So when I, travelling down south from Chennai, asked a passenger in the night-train what he could tell me about my destination Kanya Kumari he was far from telling me about the simultaneous sunset and moonrise, but only muttered “Oh my God, it is so terrible what happened there.”
824 people died here on India’s southernmost coastline and that meant suffering for thousands of other victims who managed to survive, but lost their mothers and fathers, sisters, brothers, friends next to all their properties. Most of the houses at the long beach stretching along the coast of Kanya Kumari were completely damaged by the first tsunami wave that, as one survivor tells me, was “as tall as a coconut-tree.” Fishermen lost their complete livelihood, boats, nets, engines and all their other equipment.
Not much of that destruction is visible as I walk along the shore, only a few houses that were not made total ruins by the tsunami remained, nearly two years after the disaster, with still big cracks in their walls. Most of the people have been relocated to safer places further away from the coast, yet close enough for the fishermen to go to the sea. At the beach I find a real armada of new fibre-boats with the inscription “KSSS-Caritas-CRS” painted on both sides. KSSS stands for “Kottar Social Service Society” (a diocesan Caritas) and is the social wing of the diocese of Kottar to which Kanya Kumari belongs. KSSS replaced all the boats and fishing equipment for the tsunami victims and built new houses for them. Right after the tsunami the victims first were accommodated in temporary shelters where they had to live in small rooms of corrugated iron and wait till their new permanent homes would be completed. One shelter site, the new village of Kottilpadu, had been finished in April 2006, the other one, Colachel, will be finished by December 2006 and it is a beautiful place amidst impressive scenery where the new house owners soon will be able to enjoy a marvellous view from their rooftop-terraces over the lake and the forest close by.
As I enter Kottilpadu, I marvel at the design of the place; many shelters built after the tsunami are merely a colony of row-houses with no centre, being designed like a chessboard with their crossroads at right angles with the main roads. Kottilpadu however, with its bends, its small gardens in front of each house and its central water-taps in every main road as a meeting point has more of a village-character.
Judith, with whom I have an appointment, is already waiting in front of her house. She and her husband lost their house at the shore, now she got a new home at Kottilpadu and, moreover, a job at KSSS where she deals with other tsunami victims as a social worker. She is also involved in a recently founded women’s group in Kottilpadu. They gathered in Judith’s house and are proud to tell me what they have achieved in only a couple of weeks.
Judith in front of her new house
“We actually started as a health committee”, tells me 30-year-old Salonza, “taking care of environmental and health issues in our village. We made sure there is separation of waste. Bio-waste will be used again as fertilizer. All the other waste that cannot be recycled is being taken away by a municipal van every week.” This is indeed something special in India where in many places people use to simply throw their waste at the roadsides, due to a lack of organized waste removal. The women of Kottilpadu were inspired to do more for clean and hygienic surroundings after an awareness training given by KSSS. And waste removal is not the only issue they take care of. They arrange for example the proper water distribution in the village; with the water coming from a big tank the villagers share they introduced a system of restricted use to which everyone hast to stick to. They arranged a rotation system for cleaning of toilets – flush toilets are also something new to most of the villagers – and they educate all the villagers in the importance of more hygiene to avoid diseases. Furthermore, they have a social system taking care of each other’s issues. Domestic violence e.g. was one of the first things they tackled.
“One woman in Kottilpadu”, says Salonza, “was being beaten by her husband. Her neighbour, a member of our group, immediately phoned the police who arrested him for some time. This man will never dare to do anything like that again.” Another woman, I am told, left her husband for three months after he became violent. “The men in Kottilpadu now learned they cannot just do what they want”, says SHG-member Rani. It was, she tells me, not like this before the tsunami. Back then women just were not aware of their rights and did not dare to stand up against any kind of injustice. It took the awareness training of KSSS and Caritas to make these people stronger.
Salonza (r.) and Judith (middle) - two courageous Indian women
Before I leave the group to shift to another house where I have an appointment, Judit proudly shows me her new rooms and the garden where she recently planted some flowers. She and her husband lived in a bigger house before, nevertheless she is content with what she got, not expecting to get anything after all after the tsunami. “I am happy”, she says, “at least I have everything I need here. And you see we have a nice community, we all get along with each other very well and this means more to me than a bigger house.”
As I go to see Mary Jemila and her family, close by Judith’s house, I find Judith’s word confirmed. “We all live happily here”, says Mary Jemila, “there are no quarrels, there’s no gossip. Sometimes I wonder how this came about because it was not like that when we lived at the shore. There we lived more scattered, in separate houses not so close to each other. Now we all have the same houses, the same design, the same size, so there is no difference. It may seem strange, but I really believe this is a fact mattering very much. It makes us all equal; there is no difference now between rich or poor. We all lost everything we have and we are all on the same level now. And I think that having gone through such a terrible experience like tsunami really united us. Once you have experienced something like that there is no time and space for gossip and quarrelling; you care only about serious things.”
Mary Jemila (r), with her family
Mary Jemila is a very devout Christian. Her house is filled with pictures of Jesus and Virgin Mary and she is member of a prayer’s and circle. Maybe also from that Christian point of view she appreciates the kind of equality the tsunami victims in Kottilpadu share. Another good example for this I found as I go down to the beach to meet the fishermen who received new boats from Caritas and KSSS. 29-year-old Agarin has just come back from the sea and is mooring his boat at the shore. He had had a boat of his own before the tsunami. As Caritas and KSSS didn’t give away new boats to each victim separately but introduced the joint ownership system, with four people sharing one boat, he has to share it with his brother and two other fishermen. I ask him if shifting from single to joint ownership meant another kind of loss to him.
Agarin with his new boat
“No, frankly, no”, he says. “Due to this joint ownership there actually has been no change in my financial situation. Before the tsunami I hired three labourers working on my boat and I used to share the catch with them. This is the kind of ‘payment’ that is common in our area for coolies. And now? Now I do the same sharing of catch with my joint owners. And the feeling that I am no longer a single owner really does not bother me. My situation was so desperate after the tsunami, I had no income and relied on relief from the government that I am happy to have a new boat at all. I never expected this, I never heard of anything like an NGO and not in my wildest dreams I would have expected donors to spend so much money to replace all our boats and houses. So, I must say, I am grateful.”
Before dusk I have to take the train back to Chennai. At first I regret having to leave without getting the occasion to watch the famous sunset and moonrise. But then again: I had amazing encounters with amazing people. They experienced the most traumatic disaster in history and, two years later, started a completely new life again, being extremely happy with their lives. That is Kanya Kumari’s new wonder and – I can assure you, all you travel writers – a greater one than the most beautiful sunset you will ever be able to see there.
Copyright words and photography: Stefan Teplan
First published in the book “Waves Of Hope” by Caritas India, 2006
