Harsh, yet breathtaking. Three words that aptly describe the landscape of the Rann of Kutch. Situated about 130 km from Ahmedabad, the Rann of Kutch is a seasonal salt marsh located in the Thar desert in Gujarat. It is also the land of the Agariyas, traditionally salt farmers, who have lived here for centuries. Working every day under a scorching sun from October to June, the Agariyas harvest 75 percent of India’s total salt produce.
This is the story of the Agariyas, a hardworking community that makes the desert its home for eight months to extract the whitest salt in the world.
[caption id="attachment_73624" align="aligncenter" width="750"]
![hidden-treasures-of-gujarat-09]()
Salt farming in the Rann of Kutch[/caption]
Centuries ago, the Rann of Kutch was part of the sea until an earthquake turned the exposed sea bed into a sprawling desert. Today, it is a vast expanse of arid land, devoid of habitation, stretching out to the Arabian Sea, which is just 10 kms away.
During the monsoon months, the Rann of Kutch is submerged in sea water. As the sea water finally begins to recede in October, the Agariyas move in and begin the elaborate process of salt farming. First, they dig wells to pump out highly saline groundwater from the lake of brine that lies 40 feet below the crust.
Ten times saltier than sea water, this lake of brine is what keeps the economy of the area afloat.
[caption id="attachment_73627" align="aligncenter" width="800"]
![mosoon-destination-kutch]()
Rann of Kutch in monsoon[/caption]
The pumped out brine is then directed into square-shaped salt pans where the natural process of evaporation works to leave behind precious white crystals of salt. Getting these pans ready for this process is tough work. The farmers stamp and level the earth with their bare feet to ensure that the tightly packed soil doesn't allow the brine to seep back. Some dry branches are thrown in, around which salt crystals form.
With the salt fields slowly turning silvery white with raw salt, the harvest season officially begins in winter. The Agariyas prefer to start their day early to avoid the scorching desert heat - during the day, the mercury can soar up to 40 degrees Celsius, even in December.
[caption id="attachment_73626" align="aligncenter" width="550"]
![270583_512]()
An Agariya woman[/caption]
Once the first layer of salt is formed, it is scraped with heavy wooden rakes, locally known as
gantaras. The salt farmers continuously rake the salt to develop smaller crystals (which fetch a higher price) and pile it up onto the sides of the pans to be collected later. This salt is different from the marine salt produced on the coast and is locally known as
Badagara, literally meaning
Bada (big) and
Agara (pan). Every 15 days, an average of 12-15 tonnes of salt is collected and sent to salt companies and chemical factories across the country.
Braving the extreme temperature of the barren desert, the community lives for six to seven months in makeshift shacks beside its salt pans. The Agariya children start working in the salt fields from the age of 10 - generational poverty and lack of schools in the Rann of Kutch offer few chances for them to educate themselves.
After the harvest, the families pack up their equipment and haul them back to the village settlements encircling the Rann. The monsoons come and wash their salt fields away, turning the desert into a sea. Four months later, the Agariyas come back and start all over.
Also Read: Nomads of the Himalayas : A Fascinating Glimpse into the Rarely-Seen Forest World of the Van Gujjars
Years of working under such harsh conditions often takes a toll on their health too. Most salt farmers are too poor to afford the right equipment for their work — while a lucky few have gumboots, most work in flip flops, in socks or barefoot. As a result, the salt and the fierce sun inflicts much damage on their health.
The Agariyas suffer from skin lesions, severe eye problems, tuberculosis and abnormally thin legs, stiff with years of exposure to high concentration of salt.
[caption id="attachment_73625" align="aligncenter" width="900"]
![]()
A labourer works on a salt pan in Rann of Kutch[/caption]
Despite their backbreaking, and often dangerous, labour, the Agariyas earn a paltry sum of ₹ 60 per ton whereas the retail price of domestic salt is ₹ 5500. More than 100,000 Agariyas work in the Rann of Kutch as salt farmers and almost 60 percent of them are living below the poverty line. Most of their tiny profit is eaten up by the fuel costs and spare parts expenses of their brine pumps and generators.
Recognizing that the fluctuating and high cost of diesel was eating up almost 70% of the profits of the Agariyas, the Grassroots Trading Network for Women (GTNFW) or
Hariali, an initiative of the
Self Employed Women’s Association (SEWA) decided to address this issue to improve their livelihood.
Founded in 1972 by Ela Bhatt, SEWA has been working for several decades to improve the working and living conditions of many women in India’s unorganized labor force, including the women salt farmers of Kutch.
[caption id="attachment_73623" align="aligncenter" width="614"]
![salt2]()
Women salt farmers of Rann of Kutch[/caption]
In the early 90s, SEWA begun by holding meetings for the Agariya women to educate them on matters of nutrition and child care. Next, the organisation started
bachat mandals (savings groups) and technical training sessions for the salt farmers.
SEWA also started giving credit at interest rates much lower than the traditional middlemen and provided market linkages for the salt that they produced. In 2005, SEWA began conducting training for vocational occupations and micro-enterprises, like agarbatti making, beedi making, etc, to ensure a secondary source of income for the Agariyas during the off season months. The results of SEWA’s effort on these two fronts - financial services and marketing services - were dramatic and many of the participating Agariya families rose out of poverty within two years
In 2012, SEWA decided to introduce solar pumps to lower production costs and provide a clean energy option. In the first program of its kind, SEWA collaborated with Jaypee Solar, a local provider of solar PV systems, to install solar systems designed for brine pumping applications.
[caption id="attachment_73628" align="aligncenter" width="500"]
![cropped-solar-paneljpeg-thumb-500x459-17004]()
A solar panel being set up in the Rann of Kutch[/caption]
They next partnered with SunEdison, a U.S. based renewable energy company, and the World Bank to distribute 200 solar-powered water pumps to the Agariyas in 2015. Till date, SEWA has replaced more than 232 diesel pumps with hybrid pumps that run on solar power during the day and on diesel for four hours in the night.
Rann of Kutch's abundant solar energy potential, with nearly 300 sunny days and high solar radiation, offered salt farmers the opportunity to dramatically increase their annual savings by switching from diesel to hybrid pumps that are able to run for 8 or 9 hours per day on solar power. These hybrid pumps have halved the expenditure on diesel and increased the salt production by approximately 15%. Moreover, installing these solar panels on the roof tops of the farmers' homes during the off season has helped them save on their electricity bills too. Each of these pumps also saves 2.7 tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions per year!
You May Like: SEWA Rural – Taking Development To The Poorest Of Poor In The Remotest Of Remote Villages
SEWA also teamed up with the
Global Fairness Initiative (GFI) to distribute 15,000 solar powered LED lanterns to the salt farmers of Rann of Kutch. Safer and far brighter than kerosene lamps, these solar lamps don't require additional spending once the lamp has been purchased as their batteries last as long as 10 years.
Women members of SEWA also run their own Shakti Packet programme to provide food grains and other essentials to families like themselves in the barren desert. Bought in bulk, the prices of these goods are cheaper than those from the stores in the nearest village, several kilometres away.
[caption id="attachment_73629" align="aligncenter" width="3872"]
![pict_original]()
Beneficiaries of Solar Lantern campaign[/caption]
SEWA next plans to eventually replace all the 17,000 diesel pumps owned by its Agariya members with hybrid solar pumps. For this, it has tied up with ICICI Bank, India’s largest private sector lender, to enable salt farmers to buy and install up to 600 solar water pumps through yearly installments. SEWA is also working with Zynergy, a start up firm in Chennai, to address the problem of corrosion in traditional pumps made of iron or alloy.
As Mr. Bhatnagar, the CEO of
Grassroots Trading Network for Women (GTNFW),
says,
"Because the salt farmers live on such small margins, I want to ensure that the solar pumps are a sound investment and have minimal risk."
Trying to carve out a living in one of the harshest environments imaginable, the hardworking Agariyas do not want to give up salt making. They love the freedom of their simple life and only want better health, economic and educational opportunities for their families. With greater savings from using solar energy, these farmers are now one step closer to a future marked by a better economic status and sustainable livelihoods.
To know more about SEWA's work, you can visit their website
here.
Feature Image Source
Falguni (L) started with just four pieces of orthopaedic equipment.[/caption]
Over the years, donations poured in as many people don’t have much use for wheelchairs, transport chairs, walkers, canes, knee and ankle and neck braces, etc., after the immediate need for them is over. Falguni would rent them out on a regular basis as the demand for them kept growing with each passing day.
Falguni does not take deposit from those who cannot afford it.[/caption]
Most people rent the equipment for a couple of weeks or months at a time.
“Earlier, I used to give these things away for free. But then I thought people would not value things given as charity or take care of the equipment. This way people take it seriously and I get to buy more products too,” she says.
Most of the products are donated to Helping Hand by those who don’t need them any more, while some are purchased brand new by Falguni.
For those who cannot afford to pay the deposit, the orthopaedic items are given on just a rental basis. “It is quite flexible. Our main idea was to put the unused equipment to some use and to help those in need. So we do not care if someone is unable to pay the deposit. What matters to us is that we are able to help them,” says Falguni.
Today, Helping Hand receives queries from across Gujarat. But Falguni has restricted her work to only Vadodara as of now.
“I figure it out when I am giving it to someone else. Also, many people do not take responsibility for the damage and I have to face the loss,” she says.
But these problems do not affect Falguni who is deeply attached to some of her customers — they often come to her for a friendly chat or when they need a shoulder to lean on.
“Many times, these people are frustrated with their sickness. They have already shared the details with their family and friends. But I am a new person to them, and since I work in this field I understand them. They feel very close to me and share their issues with me. I feel so overwhelmed by all the love that I receive,” says Falguni.
Falguni recalls a very touching moment when she received a call from a man named Mr. Gupta. His mother had just expired after a long illness and he had heard about Helping Hand. He called Falguni to donate all his mother’s orthopaedic equipment.
Dick Smith shows Chris the photo he had taken of a a homeless family (including a girl wearing nothing but a pink bracelet) in India. He wanted to help the family get accommodation, and perhaps get the girl an education.
All they had to go on was this distant photo and the Google Map location. To make it worse, most of the people in the photo were looking the other way.
The receptionist of their hotel acted as a Hindi/English translator and got them started on their journey finding the girl in the photo.
They started passing the photo around, and this woman recognised the girl in the pink bracelet. She directed them to the girl's mother, who called for her daughter — she was away playing.
The girl's name is Divya. While she was initially very shy (and possibly afraid she was in trouble), they reassured her, telling her the story of the photo taken from the train, and how they were looking for her because someone wanted to help her.
On the afternoon of day 2, they met the whole family in the bank. The father works hard, but they're not able to make ends meet. To Chris, they seemed the perfect family: able and willing to work, and not averse to help.
They showed Divya's family a photo of Dick and Pip, the couple responsible for this miracle meeting.
They set up a bank account in Divya's name with her mother as the guardian so that Dick could transfer money into the account every month. Since they didn't have any form of ID and couldn't sign their own name, the bank took their thumbprints on the form.
Divya and her mother get their passport photos taken for the bank form.
Divya gets a bank account.
To start things off, they deposited enough rent money for 3 months into the bank account.
Two families stuffed into the back of a single auto-rickshaw! Divya's going shopping.
Since Chris and his wife Jess don't speak Hindi, and no one in Divya's family speaks English, Chris took photos on his phone of the things they needed to buy, and asked Divya's mother to guide them.
While they bought mostly practical clothing for the family, they also bought this dress for Divya which she had fallen in love with.
Divya gets a school bag.
Divya gets school supplies!
Divya can't get enough of her new shoes. She's been walking barefoot all these years.
Divya holds a photo of Dick and Pip, her brand-new benefactors.
This is the school that Divya will be going to.
After their lovely goodwill adventure, Chris and Jess head back to the airport.
As the volunteer network grows, Darshan has divided it into groups. Each group takes up a particular spot in the city. For instance, in Vadodara there are 10 spots, usually in slums, where the children are fed.
On Mondays, they decide what the menu for the coming Sunday is going to be. They coordinate with those who want to donate, procure the raw materials, and cook the meals in their own kitchens. The programme usually begins at 11 a.m. with some fun activities for the kids. They screen movies on education or make them do some craft work etc., and then lunch is served. It usually consists of the usual Indian fare of rice, rotis, and pulses. They also give them biscuits and bananas to snack on. The volunteers and children eat the same food together.
The movement which started in Vadodara has spread to four more cities – Gandhidam, Adipur, Nadiad, and Kosamba. And two months ago, it spread to Mumbai as well.
For those who are socially conscious, Darshan has only one piece of advice.
Hemant Patel[/caption]
Hemant feeds hundreds of needy people every day.[/caption]
Hemant needs more fund to continue his work.[/caption]
The otherwise bubbly child had stopped eating and was very glum.
The doctor in Mumbai suspected that his bone marrow had failed. Further tests confirmed this and also revealed that the child's body was battling the Epstein-Barr Virus (EBV).
"The EBV is very common and a normal person's blood cells can fight this virus. However, because my son's platelet count was low, his body was too weak to resist it," says Dhyanesh.
Finally, the doctors told the parents that the only way the child could survive was if he underwent a bone marrow transplant. This was another challenge as it is more difficult to find a bone marrow match for a child than for an adult.
The final jolt came in the form of his latest bone marrow test which detected Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) cells in his body.
Hitarth has now undergone his first round of chemotherapy to destroy the blood cancer cells and the results look good.
Popat, the beggar who paid for his cup of tea.[/caption]
Chabutro[/caption]
Naginbhai (centre) with patients and volunteers[/caption]
Providing for the needy[/caption]
Naginbhai giving medicines to patients[/caption]
Today, after about half a decade, this generous man is still dedicated to his service. He has a team of five volunteers and they go out every evening at 5 pm to Sheth V. S. General Hospital, Jivraj Mehta Hospital, and some other hospitals in Ahmedabad. In the general wards of these hospitals, they move from one bed to another, talking to the patients there. They chat with them to find out where they are from, their professions, how much money they make, etc.
A beneficiary[/caption]
Formerly the hunting reserve of the Nawabs of Junagadh, Gir Forest is the largest compact tract of dry deciduous forest in Gujarat. Gir was declared a Wildlife Sanctuary in 1965 by the Government of India and given National Park status ten years later. Other than the charismatic Asiatic lion, the park also has a substantial population of leopards, vast herds of deer, langurs, snakes, hyenas, small jungle cats, and crocodiles.
Natubhai retired as the superintendent of a Ministry of Planning department in 2009. He was posted in the Kutch district of Gujarat during the disastrous Bhuj earthquake, which turned several lives upside down in 2001. The three-storeyed hotel building where he used to live collapsed completely and he lost some of his colleagues.
Natubhai also gets individual enquiries from families looking for matches for their loved ones. He has biodatas of over 7,000 senior citizens, 10,000 young people, 1,000 people with disabilities, and more. People visit his place in Ahmedabad every weekend when he works on individual cases. VMAS registers people who are looking for partners. The bureau ensures that prospective brides and grooms produce required documents like divorce certificates, spouses' death certificates, biodatas, etc. Natubhai meets the senior citizens to understand their concerns and needs. He then goes through his database and suggests suitable matches, providing people with phone numbers to take the conversations forward.
He organised the first ‘live-in relationship sammelan’ in November 2011, which saw the participation of 300 men and 70 women from across the country. “We support people who want to live with each other without getting married too,” he says.
He started by teaching in a municipality school near his house to gain experience. Then, one day, on his way to drop his kids off at their school bus stop, he spotted some children loitering on a footpath. "Their parents told me they were facing problems getting their children admitted to school because they live on the footpath and don’t have any residential proof. Additionally, the kids didn’t have their birth certificates for admission. This was when an idea struck me and I asked them – 'If I come to your footpath to teach these kids, will you send them to me?' That was the first step. The fact that they were prepared to let me teach the kids motivated me to school them on the footpath itself,” says Virat.
Initially, he would request some municipality schools to help him with books and mats. As he continued teaching, some passers-by would stop and inquire about the initiative. Many of them showed a willingness to contribute with money or voluntary support. “The first few things I purchased from their contributions were a nice mat for the children to sit on, slates, pens, notebooks, etc.”
In this way, what started as one centre with about 10 kids has now grown to over 200 children and nine centres. Virat has a team of six full-time teachers and six part-time volunteers who conduct classes for two hours every day. Virat teaches at some centres too, but he is currently concentrating more on hiring and training teachers, which is a difficult task because they have to sit on dusty, noisy footpaths, and teach.
His friends suggested he start a trust and expand in an organised manner. Together, with six friends, he started the Sarvodaya Group Trust and the school now operates with the help of donations to the Trust.
Anasuya Sarabhai[/caption]
Ambalal Sarabhai[/caption]
The Sabarmati Ashram[/caption]
Ela Bhatt (centre)[/caption]
Salt farming in the Rann of Kutch[/caption]
Rann of Kutch in monsoon[/caption]
A labourer works on a salt pan in Rann of Kutch[/caption]
Women salt farmers of Rann of Kutch[/caption]
A solar panel being set up in the Rann of Kutch[/caption]
Beneficiaries of Solar Lantern campaign[/caption]