Archive | January, 2010

Goan away again

31 Jan

I’m off to Mumbai and then on to Goa again this evening, complete with the usual suitcase full of books, high factor suncream and insect repellant, as seen here.  

The eagle eyed amongst you may observe that yes, “The Far Pavilions” is indeed making a return trip. It went with me in November, it came home with me in December and now we’re off again.  Hopefully, this time I’ll finish it and leave it out there.

And here’s my Maine Coon cat Thomas “helping” with my packing:

Good to know that,  even in India,  all of my clothing will be covered in cat fur.

Girls around the world need you to buy this book

30 Jan

“Because I am a girl  – I am less likely to go to school.

Because I am a girl – I am more likely to suffer from malnutrition.

Because I am a girl – I am more likely to suffer violence in the home.

Because I am a girl – I am more likely to marry and start a family before I reach my twenties.

Seven authors have visited seven different countries and spoken to young women and girls about their lives, struggles and hopes. The result is an extraordinary collection of writings about prejudice, abuse, and neglect, but also about courage, resilience and changing attitudes. Proceeds from sales of this book will go to PLAN, one of the world’s largest child-centered community development organisations.”

And last week I attended the very moving launch of the “Because I Am A Girl” book at Waterstones in Piccadilly. I bought four copies and have since read my own copy twice.  From my time in corporate life,  I know how powerful story telling can be as a way to get a message across; this collection of stories (which are both fiction and non-fiction) is part of Plan’s campaign to raise awareness and break the cycle of poverty which so impacts women,  by educating girls and investing in women.  As Marie StauntonPlan’s Chief Executive, said at the launch event:

“Girls are often invisible in the developing world – and because they’re not valued, they don’t feel valued.  They’re less likely to go to school than boys, more likely to experience violence, poverty and sexual abuse …”

The stories are set in Togo, Sierra Leone, the Dominican Republic, Brazil, Ghana, Uganda and Cambodia and the book features contributions from renowned authors such as Kathy Lette, Deborah Moggach (who were both at the launch, and who signed my copies of the book), Irvine Welsh and Joanne Harris.  As well as Marie’s very moving descriptions of Plan’s work,  we were also able to hear Kathy and Deborah reading extracts from their stories. Actors and Plan supporters Larry Lamb (who had just returned to the UK from a week in Senegal for Plan; the next evening I saw him on TV at the National Television Awards … talk about a diverse life …) and Joanne Froggatt read from the stories set in Togo and Santa Domingo in the DR.

Here’s an extract from Kathy Lette’s story about her trip to Brazil:

“I wanted to tell the story of one girl. But all the girls I met – Maria, Jeanine, Rosana, Lorena, Amanda, Marina, Cintia, Melissa, Nataly, Teresa, Ana and Johanna – had the same sad tale. It’s a story of child prostitution, teenage pregnancy, HIV, no contraception, illegal back-street abortion, sex tourism, single mothers, macho men, irresponsible, absentee fathers and domestic violence.”  

The book also features, as the other non-fiction contribution, a very damning piece from Marie Phillips (author of “Gods Behaving Badly”,  a really wonderful novel) based on her visit to Uganda and her shock at how the responsibility for sexual abuse is placed on girls and not their attackers. I think this was a brave stance for Plan to take,  in terms of including it in the anthology; I’m sure it would have been easier to leave it out,  or ask Marie to re-visit her article and change the focus.  Instead,  it is included,  as is a piece from Plan’s Uganda Country Manager, explaining why Plan takes the stance that they do and what impact this having for girls in the country to date.

At the end of the readings,  we had an opportunity to ask questions and an audience member asked Marie Staunton how she would spend £10,000 and make a difference. Looking a little taken aback,  she immediately passed the question over to two of her team,  the Plan Country Managers for India and Uganda,  who both replied that they would like to spend such money on extra, separate toilet facilities for schools,  as the lack of toilets is often an issue for girls,  especially when menstruating; the Uganda manager also told us that many schools in her country are boarding schools in remote rural areas and so she would like more money to spend on bicycles to make it easier for girls to actually get to the schools or home to visit their families.

Publishers Random House are donating all of the book’s profits to Plan – so please,  buy a copy today (Amazon have it at a substantial discount,  and it’s also currently included in Waterstones “3 for 2″ promotion).  Together, we can make a difference to girls around the world.

Weaving a tapestry

28 Jan

Sometimes I read something and it gives me that light bulb moment feeling wherein a number of strands of thought come together in my head, as if at the hands of a skilled weaver who can take amorphous bits of thread and turn them into a beautiful tapestry.

Last Sunday’s Observer magazine had just such a piece, which featured a cover story on model Erin O’Connor visiting a home workers’ collective for women in Delhi and reporting on their ethical clothing workshops, described in the article as an “innovative and revolutionary ethical fashion experiment”.

By cutting out the middlemen, organising the skilled female home workers and dealing directly with UK and US-based retailers, to date the members of SEWA (aka the All India Federation of Self-Employed Women’s Associations) have (my use of bold):

“ … increased our home workers’ wages by nearly 100 per cent and enabled a lot of women to come out of their homes to a SEWA centre to collect their work and meet. Then they engage with other ideas, like microfinance or education for their children.”

So then I was reminded me of my trip to Bangalore last month, when, at the Confederation of Indian Industry’s workshop on mentoring, I found myself paired with a woman from M&S (my first question: “Are you wearing their clothes?” My second: “Can you get their food in India?” The answers were, respectively, YES and NO).

Her name was Jyotsna, which is a Sanskrit name meaning something like “By the light of the new moon” – isn’t that beautiful? She is in charge of supplier compliance for the south east Asia region and we had a fascinating chat about the challenges clothing manufacturers and retailers (she previously worked for GAP) face in countries such as India with regard to child labour – and the economic need for some communities to have all members of a family in paid employment. I’ve heard a bit about M&S’s Plan A campaign from friends who work for them, plus seen the branded marketing in the stores, but it was very real to hear about it from Jyotsna, particularly when we discussed the dilemmas she faces when she visits communities who actively want to have their children at work – a stance which is obviously in direct contravention to the M&S position on child labour.

There’s a quote from Erin O’Connor in the Observer piece which reminds us that when you -

“… see an embroidered top on the high street …. [it’s] … been made by a very determined pair of hands”

- and the thought that, depending on the source of the garment, perhaps some of that very tiny, delicate embroidery might have been done by a child’s fingers is truly abhorrent.

The article’s reference to creating a greater need for children to be educated as part of generating an awareness of how to break a cycle of poverty and deprivation, also reminded me of this comment from Plan’s 2009 annual report, The State of the World’s Girls:

“Educated girls become educated mothers with increased livelihood prospects; they also have a greater propensity than similarly educated males to invest in children’s schooling.”

More on Plan’s work soon – oh, and my fundraising for their fantastic Because I Am a Girl campaign has now pushed past the £300 mark. Many thanks to everyone who’s donated to date and made such a difference. Some of the women mentioned in the Observer article now earn around £40 a month (compared to around a tenner, previously), just to put that £300 in context.

Taking the cake

28 Jan

I wonder what it is about the current humanitarian crisis in Haiti that seems to be resonating with children at the moment?  Of course,  the much publicised achievements of seven year old Charlie Simpson (£145,000 at the last count,  including a £5k donation from Mr Moneybags Cowell) are a clear winner,  but the BBC also showed some footage on today’s lunchtime bulletin relating to schoolchildren undertaking fund raising – without in any way referencing why the children are so moved,  which is the aspect which I find fascinating.

Is it the sheer volume of deaths and impacted lives which means that our children are appalled and want to do something to help make a difference?  Is the 24/7 media culture contributing to their awareness?  Has it (thankfully) been a while since there’s been a humanitarian disaster of this magnitude?  Or are we perhaps seeing the emergence of a new generation of globally minded children who have a more keenly developed social conscience?  Perhaps it’s a mixture of all of the above.

Of course,  one of the many reasons as to why Young Master Simpson’s campaign has done so well is because it went viral – he set up an online charity fund raising page, people shared it,  he raised tons of cash,  then the media picked up on it and hey presto – £145k and rising. Excellent!

However,  by way of a low-tech contrast,  here are a couple of photos which I snapped whilst out walking this morning and which triggered my thoughts around children in the context of Haiti.

Eve, Imogen, Olivia and Grace (sisters and a couple of friends) are baking and selling cakes from their front garden this Saturday afternoon – and to raise awareness,  they have made posters and stuck them to trees in the streets near their home.  I don’t know these small girls at all – but I am very touched that they want to make a difference and help, and I’ll be calling in on Saturday afternoon.

Mmm. Cake.

Happy birthday, Renuka

21 Jan

Today is Renuka’s ninth birthday; she is the little girl I sponsor at El Shaddai’s Rainbow House, a residential home for girls in northern Goa, India. I sent Renuka a letter, birthday card and small gift a few weeks ago and it occurred to me this morning that she is likely, I hope, to be having a very different birthday experience this year compared to last year, because this January will be the first of her life in which she has had a permanent home, an education and three meals a day.

Renuka has only been living at Rainbow House since May 2009; prior to that, she and her mother and brother (her father, an alcoholic, left them some years ago, re-married and does not provide for them financially) were living rough in a roadside shack, having arrived in Goa in 2004 as economic migrants from the neighbouring Indian state of Karnataka. An El Shaddai outreach worker met them and encouraged Renuka’s mother to come to one of the charity’s night shelters, which provide a safe place to sleep and a hot meal to those who need it. After a few weeks, Renuka’s mother was offered a cleaning job and accommodation (worth about £40 a month) at a hotel – but there was no room or capacity for Renuka, only her brother (this part of her story really upsets me and makes me think many thoughts as to the feelings of emotional rejection and abandonment that this must have caused in an eight year old child – not to mention how symptomatic it is of gender inequity in India, where sons are valued over and above daughters).

Fortunately, Renuka was offered a place at Rainbow House, El Shaddai’s residential home for 51 girls aged 8 to 13 and now enjoys, in their words: “… love and care along with nourishing food, and a good education”.

Upon arrival, she had only the clothes she was wearing at the time and was issued with her uniform of a school skirt, two Rainbow House polo shirts and some underwear – these remained her only clothing until I visited her six months later and provided her with the dress she’s wearing in the photo and a few other t-shirts – hence the huge grin, I suppose (or perhaps that was at the thought of the chocolate bar!). The girls sleep in dormitories with bunk beds and attend a private school, also run by the charity, in the next village. This is called the “Shanti Niketan”, meaning “Non Formal School” and the classes are organised according to ability rather than age. Stella, the manager of Rainbow House, told me that Renuka wants to be a doctor when she grows up; the scale of this ambition impressed me hugely. I don’t even know if it’s possible in terms of cost and education – but I hope that my sponsorship of Renuka at least makes her feel loved and cared for a little bit.

I visited her about six times when I was in Goa before Christmas and she became a little less shy with me each time. Several of the girls have sponsors and they are fiercely competitive with each other about this. Stella told me that Renuka, as one of the youngest and newest arrivals at the home, had previously felt very left out when other girls received letters, cards, gifts and visits, so she (Stella) was very relieved when I arrived in order to make a fuss of this little girl. Renuka speaks three Indian languages and is learning English, so our interactions were by necessity limited to the bits of English which she did know and an awful lot of hand gestures, plus miming, drawing in the dirt with a stick and improvising. But we played noughts and crosses, drew pictures, looked at photographs and she showed me some of her traditional Indian dance steps, as she is a member of the school’s dancing troupe (I envisage this as being nothing like an Indian dancing version of “Glee” – ahem).  However, I am slowly learning a little Hindi and I hope that a combination of feeling more familiar with each other and our respective increased vocabularies will make our next visits (in February) a bit easier.

Watch this space. I’m also a bit more clued up as to what to take as gifts for both Renuka and the other children; it was much easier to shop for her this time around, as I have a rough idea of her size (far smaller than an English nine year old would be), her likes and dislikes and of the limitations of her home environment. This time, I’m taking her a dress and some underwear from my wonderful mum, who I imagine had great fun choosing Renuka a little cotton dress (we only have nephews/grandsons in our immediate family, so shopping for girls is quite the novelty) and I bought t-shirts from Old Navy when I was in the US before Christmas. Prompted by a game that the children and I played with two balloons representing the Sun and the Earth, where we talked about time differences and different countries (“when it’s dark in India, it’s daytime in England …”) I’ve also bought an inflatable globe as I thought that it might be fun to look at a map of the world and talk about different countries, especially as the El Shaddai sponsors are based all over the world.

Plus of course I had a whale of a time with a very helpful sales assistant in Waterstones, who spent about an hour with me a few weeks ago, helping me pick out suitable books. My criteria was quite defined, which made it harder and hence made me grateful for the continuing High Street presence of a bookstore: written at a suitable level of English, not too many Caucasian images in the illustrations, no mentions of stuff to which she could never relate (which cut out tons of American books, with their mentions of  “sleep-overs” and the like), no branded books like “Hannah Montana” and “High School Musical”, nothing pink and stereotyped … but we got there in the end, so thank you, Rachel in Waterstones, you’re a star. I go back to Goa on 31st January, so I hope to return to Rainbow House in early February – I’m really looking forward to it.

Sponsoring Renuka is one of the most significant things I feel I’ve ever done. It’s only £15 per month but it makes such a difference to Renuka, to children like her and to El Shaddai’s cash flow.

Happy birthday!

Tweeting my way into 2010

10 Jan

Last Sunday’s “Observer” magazine had a fascinating article called “30 Ideas for a Better Life” which I read with interest; instead of the usual January guff about losing weight and stopping smoking etc,  it contained practical tips from a variety of gurus (many of them female) on frugal shopping, practical money advice, job hunting (hurrah), ethical living and lots more.

Many of the experts are on Twitter, so I checked them out,  added them to the list of people whom I, as The Gender Blog,  now follow and I’ve  been reading their tweets with great interest this week. And,  in the way of the Small World, I also discovered that one of them lives around the corner from me (we were comparing snow reports on Thursday) and I then saw Sarah Pennells of www.savvywomen.co.uk providing financial advice on BBC News 24 yesterday.

Twitter also led me to the Women’s Business Clubs website,  which is a very user-friendly place for women in business to find support and network with each other. Founder Kelly Stevens posted a link to this article about a gadget called a “Poken” – described as a:

“… a ‘social business card’. It’s a small USB social networking gadget that you can store your own details on including your social networking profiles (Facebook, Twitter etc).

When you meet someone at an event with a Poken you simply touch the two Pokens together and your details are passed to their Poken, and theirs to yours. Then when you get back to the office you simply plug your Poken into your computer’s USB port, and download all of the contact data you have collected.”

Now,  I love the idea of a gadget as much as the next woman and,  writing as someone with a lot of business cards sitting in a drawer,  filed only in groups (“People I met in India”, etc) and held together with bulldog clips,  I think any gadget which can make this easier and more automated is a winner.  But I’m just trying to imagine how it will actually work in a real life situation – how do you know who’s got one and under what circumstances do you bring a sentence such as “Please may I touch your Poken?” into a conversation?

Perhaps they should be sold with a lapel badge (“I’m Poken: Are YOU?”) so that the early adopters can find each other with ease and clunk click, every trip. I suspect that Kelly is right and that,  in ten years or so,  business cards will have gone the way of the floppy disk – but it will be fun to see if the curiously named “Poken” will be the tool to hasten their demise.

 

What a difference a month makes …

6 Jan

… albeit not in a good way.

This was my view on 6th December, 2009:

And this is my view on 6th January, 2010:

Brrr!

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