The Road to what We’ve Lost

Some years ago, I found myself in rural India, visiting newly-formed schools, 200km north-east inland from Calcutta. A long train journey followed by a invariably uncomfortable jeep drive took me past increasingly smaller settlements.The last dry, dusty rutted road we travelled along would have been impassable by any driver other than our well-initiated host. Over the next week or so, I met beautiful wonderful and essentially grateful people who had experienced very little or no contact with the outside world and who were absolutely delighted to greet us. Adjectives ending in -ful are fitting words to use as your lasting impression is that these humble people live such full rich lives and still uphold values that we have sadly lost.

Usually in these circumstances, whilst being overwhelmed by the hospitality, warmth of welcome and the garlands, it is easy to just take pictures and not reflect enough on the incredible significance to one’s thinking about your own life. If there was very little sign of seepage of laudable western civilisation’s influences, there was refreshingly less evidence that the worst traits had reached this hinterland. From my Jeep’s window, I observed the commonplace use of shadoofs in the fields for irrigation. I remember learning at school how the ancient Egyptians had used these primitive levers to water their crops. The question I posed myself was if I was in an extensively farming area where working practices have not changed appreciably in thousands of years, then I shouldn’t be surprised if ideas, attitudes,beliefs and lifestyles haven’t evolved accordingly. Civilisation used to be laid down in incredibly thin veils, I think of this when I come across such provisions as statutory wheelchair access and surrogate teaching assistants for pupils with learning difficulties. You won’t be surprised to learn that I didn’t see any evidence of these luxurious amendments. It takes time for these changes to take place, millennium, centuries or as little as decades if you’re an awakening giant like China or if you’ve had occupying colonialists leave to free up the process.
On the night of our arrival, one of my fellow travellers pointed to a faraway hut from our hostel balcony and suggested we might walk there to have a beer.Taking into account that our evening meal was cooked on a wooden fire and the only drink available was water because only the essentials to life are in use, I doubted the profit would accrue from such a walk.
“There’s nothing of luxury value in that hut, Chris. Do you know why? – because there’s nothing coming up that bleedin’ road. No non-essential goods, no people, no ideas, no influences. If there were, that hut would changed into a hovel over time which would have progressed into a shack, which in turn would have evolved into a house. We would be looking at a Manhattan skyline but we’re not!”
To build a road means to connect people to the outside and time does the rest. Be careful though to have a checkpoint so as to not let in those veils that cause you to lose what is important to preserve.

The Road to what We’ve Lost

December 27, 2013