PAY DAY AT WORK - February 12, 2010

PAY DAY AT WORK - February 12, 2010

Although we had been informed of this at the beginning of the work week, I am not sure that any one of our ROTARY DREAM TEAM really comprehended the fact that we were to be paid wages for our work. We were to receive precisely the same remuneration as any of the local laborers, commensurate with our productivity. A short time after lunch, we were all called to order and the paymaster, Dinesh signed off in the pay book and instructed Sanjiv to call each of our names and request for each member to come and receive his or her pay.

Essentially, for four days of work, each of us was paid a total of 400 Rupees (the rough equivalent of $10.00). Sit back for a minute or two and ponder the work I have previously described - carrying basins of wet or dry concrete mix on your head, while walking up and down a hill, and all of this under a hotter sun than most would be used to experiencing on a typical winter day. As each of us went forward to collect our pay, I believe we had a renewed "reality check" as to what it is to be a day laborer in India. Our fellow workers were tireless in their toil, never pausing, except for an occasional swallow of water from the water truck or perhaps a hand-rolled cigarette. Never once during our time at the village did I hear any moaning or groaning or complaining from the local labor force. However, each one of us, at one time or another, felt a muscle spasm or back strain or a joint popping. Having said this, with the exception of a cut finger or a scratch, not one person experienced any injury for the time we worked. Although the locals generally wore flip-flops on their feet, or went barefoot, even they did not incur injuries. On the second or third day, however, one of the Masala ladies got some cement dust in her right eye, which was obviously causing discomfort. I happened to have some eye wash drops in my pocket, so after one or two attempts to explain that I was going to help her situation and relieve the pain, she tipped back her head and let me squeeze a couple of drops of the soothing liquid into her eye. The other Masala ladies stopped their work just long enough to watch me administer the drops. I am sure a few boundaries were crossed and maybe even knocked down - a white Westerner, and an older male lending a hand to a local Indian woman. A pretty good feeling, no? Trust transcends cultural differences - what a concept!

At the end of each of us receiving our pay, I then moved to the front of our group. For some reason, each member of the local work team had ceased work and all of them were sitting on the wall of the dam or just on piles of sand or rocks. They watched intently as we received our pay. However, I don't think they expected what happened next. I asked if I could have someone translate for me, which Sanjiv volunteered to do. I wanted to share with these people a bit more about who we were and why we came. I explained that each of us had left our homes and our families and our own jobs and, at our own expense, had traveled to India for the purpose of immunizing children against polio, but just as important, we had come to their village, to work alongside them to improve the lives of all of the people in the village through the construction of this catch-dam. Further, in a gesture of good will and better friendships, each of us was going to turn back our full pay, with an agreement for an equal match from the Panchayat, so that together we would be paying for a storage tank for safe and clean drinking water. One by one, each of the team members came forward and passed their pay back to me. Once collected, I passed the funds on to a member of the Panchayat and all of the villagers and laborers, once they had the translation, vigorously applauded the team. We had made a positive contribution to the construction of the catch dam, but we had made a further contribution to the betterment of an entire community through this water harvesting project. Interestingly enough, as I looked into the eyes of each of the team members as they came forward to return their pay, and almost without exception, either tears or pretty watery eyes appeared. With none of us speaking Hindi, but relying upon gesturing and signals and a grunt or two, we had learned to communicate pretty well with these folks, and they with us. I am sure they were as warmed by our smiles as we were by theirs.