The Simple Life

I’ve always found simplicity in one’s lifestyle to be a virtue. Simplicity in personal habits, simplicity in possessions, and even simplicity in room adornment and decoration. I’ve always thought that people have way too much “stuff” in their lives, and that this “stuff” can be both the direct and indirect cause of stress, confusion, and general anxiety. Therefore, I’ve always tried to live in a simple fashion, and honestly believed that I did - until now. The life that we live here in India takes “simple” to a whole other level. Our lifestyle in this old hostel is the epitome of frugality, and was designed around the teachings of Ghandi. I could go through each and every example of this, but would rather walk through one of my usual mornings here:

At 7:00 am the diminutive yet piercing ring of my travel alarm clock echos off the concrete floors and pockmarked walls of my room to remind me of our daily 7:20 am group meeting - I promptly hit the snooze button. The only thing harder than going to sleep in heat, is waking up from it, and I have no intention of rising until absolutely necessary. So after the usual 15 minute cat-and-mouse game I play with my snooze button I wake up, put on my sandals, and walk out to the courtyard (pictured above) directly outside of the room. Various awakened bodies from our 12-person group shuffle to the courtyard as well, and some of us grab rolled-up outdoor rugs and lay them down to soften the sun washed concrete as we all sit down in a rough circle. We’re a hodge-podge group of world citizens ranging from Americans, to Japanese, Turkish, English and Belgium.

Tushar, our fearless leader, begins the meeting by saying “Good morning everyone,” in his usual calm but direct nature. There’s often a 15 second pause until various members of the group update us on the happenings of their social projects and life in general. These projects range from women’s workshops, computer classes for the local villagers, and my Sarvajal pure-water company. I’m still the new kid on the on the block and learning, so often don’t have much to add, but still enjoy these meetings and contribute as much as I can. After about 30 minutes everyone has said their piece, and we all stand up to begin the daily “Safai”.

Safai is the Hindi word for “cleaning”, and that is exactly what we do - clean. On a tattered computer printout hanging from the courtyard clothesline is the Safai list that notes which cleaning job each of us have on that particular day of the week. Some of us will sweep the courtyard with brooms consisting of little more than thin rigid sticks bound together, some of us will have to clean the small concrete-enclosed squat-style bathroom, some of us will clean the showers, and some of us may just need to clean the two bathroom sinks that stand proudly against the courtyard wall. One of the sinks is the “deluxe” edition, distinguished by the small mirror in front of it that hangs by some red threat tied to a nail in the wall.

After a quick 15 to 20 minutes, Safai is usually done and I snatch my green towel from the clotheslines, check it for bird droppings, and head off to the shower. Now, I’m using the term “shower” quite loosely here. Its door is blue, thoroughly rusted, and grunts open to reveal a small concrete closet, a bucket, and an ankle-hight spigot. It can get quite hot in there at times, but you are reminded of the true emotional and physical cleansing powers of a shower once the first hand-held waterfall pours over your face and back. Immediately, you feel rejuvenated as 24 hours of sweat and desert sand fall to your feet, making you feel like a human being again. The soap and shampoo help to do the detail work, but there is simply no substitute for the feeling of bucket after bucket of cool water washing over your skin. Towel around my waist and dirty clothes in hand, I saunter back across the courtyard and back to my room to get dressed for breakfast.

Now it’s about 8:30 am, and the whole team begins to make their way to the kitchen to see what our master cook Kamal has made for us. Ranging from Indian-style oatmeal to dough-based pancakes, we always eat well and scoop up as much as we can. Meals are always informal around here, and people sit scattered around the courtyard in either loose groups, or individually if the mood hits them. Out of metal dishes and bowls, we sit, eat, and read a few pages of the news paper in the process.

Slowly but surely after breakfast, people begin to leave for the village to do work while a handful may decide to do work from the hostel. At this point in the program I am still in the midst of getting up to speed with the business (Sarvajal) and spend my days reading through documents and speaking with members of the team, but still try and get into town at least once a day to meet team member that are in the community, run errands, or simply walk around. Though the pace of my day will eventually pick-up when work does, my mornings will always be simple, just the way I like it.