TEDxChange @ TedxDelhi- the ‘community’ epiphany

I wasn’t really sure what to expect before attending my first ever TEDx event in Delhi a couple of days ago. My job decided that it would be a good opportunity for me and a colleague to attend it, especially since the focus was on maternal and child health— not an area that we specifically work with at our organisation— but definitely relevant to our broader themes of engagement. After arriving and registering at the not-too-shabby venue, we were ushered in by crisply dressed, TED-branded personnel and settled down to witness what was ultimately a highly standardised, well-orchestrated and flawlessly executed ‘show’.

First up, Manoj Kumar, CEO of the Naandi Foundation, took us through the findings of his ‘HUNGaMA’ Report (note: this is actually a gimmicky acronym for ‘Hunger and Malnutrition’). Through the course of his presentation (with photos of ‘communities’ to boot), Kumar took the audience through the preliminary findings of the Report, which aims at providing up-to-date and real time data on the nutrition status of children in India. So what made this report different? Kumar’s assertion is that for the HUNGaMA Report, the traditional logic followed for carrying out a study like this, i.e., moving from data→information→knowledge was turned the other way around. The ‘stories’ of women were heard first, from which information was gathered, and data extrapolated. I’ll reserve my scepticism for after the release of the Report.

Peter Singer, another CEO, this time of an organisation focussing on innovations in the developing world, for me was one of the strongest speakers of the evening. His style of speaking was clear, coherent and engaging and he took us through some fascinating innovations popping up all over the developing world, including a low-cost incubator substitute making its debut in India. Though he touched upon the importance for developing countries to ‘help each other out’ through sharing innovations, he unfortunately did not get into the nitty-gritties of how governments can effectively foster innovations, which to me is a key challenge for the spread of innovations in the global South. In my opinion, the dialogue needs to move beyond the ‘oh yes, these are amazing new innovations happening in poor countries’ to ‘what are the specific steps through which innovation can be encouraged and fostered amongst all levels of society in the developing world?’

When Vishwajeet Kumar compared his feelings at the beginning of a five month immersion in rural UP to that of an amateur scuba diver jumping into the sea for the first time,I wasn't sure what to expect. His speech about neonatal care came to the one conclusion that he seemed to think was absolutely ground-breaking— the ‘community’ is part of the solution. Genius. Haven’t we been saying the same thing in the development community for the past forty years? Nothing ground-breaking there.

Finally, a woman arrived on the scene— Sushma Devi, an ASHA worker from Babaganj Village. The cringeworthy Feroze Gujral (hostess for the evening) took us through a horrifyingly uncomfortable ten minute interview with Sushma Devi. Sushma Devi delivered some lines about her work and managed to (not-so-nonchalantly) drop in the name of the PATH’s Sure Start programme that had clearly sponsored her presence there. As I looked at these two women— one, clearly intimated and possibly terrified of standing up there in front of an audience she could not really relate with and the other, a New Delhi media-savvy socialite, dressed to the nines— I hung my head in defeat. Surely, neither of these women understood the first thing about the other, and it didn’t seem that TEDx was the right forum to foster that understanding. I almost hid under my seat in embarrassment when Gujral asked ‘What can we do to help you?’ Are you serious? It was patronising and tokenistic. The ‘we’ she was referring to was just as reductionist as seeing Sushma Devi as part of the ‘they’. Sigh.

Lastly, the brand ambassador for TEDx— a crisply dressed Melinda Gates— was up. I was hoping that the evening would end on a high note. However, the presentation felt rehearsed and was devoid of any really fascinating content. She did not however, miss the opportunity to insert the now ubiquitous word amongst donor circles- scaling up- in her presentation. The high point: her cool magic slideshow. The low point: Saying Nitar Kumesh for Nitish Kumar, the chief minister of Bihar. Dear oh dear, we Indians have such complicated names. The epiphany: ‘If you want to have impact on a macro-level, work at a micro-level’. I guess it’s about time the Gates Foundation got there.

So, all in all, my first experience with TED— disappointing. Yes, I do agree with the fact that ideas need spreading, however, in a forum that clearly wanted to spread the message that listening to the ‘community’ is important if innovation in the health sector is to be successful, the tokenistic presence of a village-level health worker only served to reinforce the fact that this ‘community’ is still seen as something that ‘we’ still don’t put on an equal ground. Consolation prize: free food

A Letter

When I moved here over two months ago, at the beginning of a new year, I remember thinking to myself- this is going to be insane. I'd done the whole living in a big city on my own before, but never in India, and more importantly, never in Delhi. I panned out the next few months in my head- I would hate it at first, I was sure. Then I would begin to like it and wonder what all the fuss was about, then something would happen and I would realise- yes, this is going to be hard.That's where I am right now with my nemesis, Delhi. So, I write this letter to you, as a fresh start, a new beginning (albeit two months too late).

Dear Delhi,

You are a swine- and stubborn as hell too. Just when I think I've got the better of you, you strike me down for a week with your viral infections, that almost sends me back to square one- defeat. But then, I remind myself of why I'm here- not just to start a new job, but to try and understand why people for hundreds of years have been drawn to you. And I swallow my pill. 

How do I understand you? I try to make some sense of the stories mostly, that make you what you are. Of the barefoot young boy who sells Open Magazine (which probably has a story about him in it) to me at a traffic light. Of the young gay couple talking about prejudice towards their identities and coming out to their friends. Of the chowkidhar that raps his stick past midnight in my colony. Of the taxi driver who is too afraid to tell me that he's lost his way because he is new to the city. Of the 11th grade test tube baby. 

There are so many already, and as I struggle to weave them together, I struggle with my feelings for you. You don't mean much to me just as yet. Right now, you are just this- a melange of pictures that I have seen. But to be heard, Delhi, to be truly heard, you and I will have to meet somewhere in the middle. I hope we can, I really do. 

Love, 

A dilli-dallyer