Knock knock

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Impatient dog.
Impatient do—
BOW WOW!

The tension was electric, my fear palpable as I entered Chandrashekhar Hegde’s courtyard. Welcomed by two dogs barking incessantly, snapping ferociously at a group of people who clearly had no idea what to expect; we made our way into the main roof of a rather bare yet elegant household. Chandrashekhar Hegde, our host for the morning, appeared, smiling warmly, in shorts and a t-shirt, hair perfectly well combed behind, sporting a thick mustache archetypal of the men in Karnataka. His wife and son followed shortly afterwards, shy, but enthusiastic about having us nose around.

After some routine questions about agriculture and land-use, we had the opportunity to tour Chandrashekhar’s house. The word ‘awed’ would be an understatement to describe what I felt my bare sole traversed the length of the cool mud, my nose inhaling the sweet smell of the earth, my ears alert for the whistle of the pressure-cooker and the peaceful mooing of the cows (ignoring the fact that the dogs’ annoyance was still audible). In the words of a classmate, ‘it’s amazing to see how these people are so…in harmony with nature.’ Harmony is the key word.

A completely self-sustained household, it was incredibly efficient at allocating its resources – right from water to electricity to fodder to manure, everything was reused and recycled. The lady of the house even managed to make the most artistic designs from cucumber seeds and apple-packing! Forget Kyoto, Copenhagen and Montreal – Hallusarige is where people walk the talk about minimizing carbon footprints. Not even consciously. How? By just being natural. Going totally ‘organic’ may well provoke much fury about the future of food security given that the rising demand for food is exacerbated by the decreasing natural yields, yet, to see this family sustain themselves so beautifully on the bounties of nature warms my heart.

But all is not halcyon in their world: Chandrashekhar is faced with the brutality of as much as 240% fluctuations in his betelnut prices, labor costs are increasing by the day as more people are opting to move out of rural areas, ironically, in search of greener pastures in the neighboring city of Bangalore. In his post about today’s household visit, my co-blogger David explores the struggle of these farmers to hang on, fighting for their survival. He signs off with an important question that I daresay no one has the real answer to: What is the future of these small local farmers in Sirsi? It is difficult for us, as observers, to introduce policy change in the Government. Not that I am going to attempt to answer in entirety, but one answer comes to my mind immediately when farmers like Chandrashekhar complain about increasing labor costs. If, for example, D-Lab’s Maize Sheller can be adapted and made viable for use at $2-3 a quintal, we stand a chance to apply our “technical expertise” to reality. Chandrashekhar pledges his acceptance to such a technology; we need to pledge our commitment to MIT’s motto: Mens et Manus – mind and hand. It is our natural duty, as MIT Beavers, to help feed the future generations of a man who, despite the little he had, fed us first.

Yes we can.

-Jesika