Conservation - INDIA Volunteer stories - Brock Phillips

Brock Phillips

Conservation in India


Having never eaten India food or known much of the country, other than the Taj Mahal, I'm not sure what drew me to India. It was this, plus the realisation that I'd be spending almost ten weeks there, that caused me to slightly panic in an Air India plane somewhere over the Middle East. Arriving an hour late at 4am didn't help, but after a short layover in Chennai and an eight hour train ride to Madurai I had calmed down some. My idea of India was crowded, chaotic streets with little, if any, room to breathe. Luckily Ullar was nothing like that.

With the Western Ghat Mountains five kilometres away, a single intersection, and a kilometre from one end to the other, Ullar was easily my favourite place in India. Sure, we travelled on the weekends to places in Tamil Nadu and Kerala and I even saw the Taj Mahal when my placement ended, but nothing compared to Ullar and the Model Farm. There are usually two or three volunteers on the Model Farm; however I was lucky enough to spend my eight weeks with six other volunteers.

A typical day involved waking up for breakfast at 9, although you could work before breakfast if you wanted, followed by work on the farm from 10 to 1 when we'd then eat lunch. After a short break we'd return to the farm from 2:30 to 5 and then have the evenings to ourselves. On the farm the projects ranged from sieving and packaging vermi-compost, to cleaning the India-shaped pond, to making cuttings of medicinal plants for the nursery. Before dinner at 7:30, we'd do anything from reading to exploring to playing cricket, football, or kabbadi with the local kids. Sadly none of the adults ever joined, but I'm sure they got a kick out of watching an American swinging a cricket bat like a baseball bat then dropping it when he ran.

Every Thursday we'd take a 45 minute bus ride to Rajapalayam to sell vermi-compost at the local market. Although we sometimes had to compete for space with the onion seller behind us, the market allowed us to experience a completely part of India. Navigating the streets of India with a cart loaded down with vermi-compost, chairs, and bags was a different, and somewhat terrifying, experience at first, but after a few weeks I felt like one of the locals. Whether it was visiting the girls each week at the supermarket, running into Sheik, the 18 year old salesman, or eating lunch at the same hotel restaurant, Rajapalayam was a nice change of pace from the routine of the farm. Plus you could make any calls or check your e-mails.

Possibly the best part about Model Farm was the other volunteers. Not only did they make the time pass more easily, but we do whatever we could to make the time in Ullar that much more enjoyable. One of the volunteers on the farm loved Indian food but wasn't a big fan of breakfast, so on his birthday we decided to cook him a western breakfast. There were five of us, plus Lakshmi who usually cooked for us, making toast and jam, eggs, country potatoes, mangos, cornflakes, baked beans and juice. Sure it was one breakfast out of about forty but I think it did the trick. Another cool experience was moving our mattresses to the roof of the house and sleeping up there the last few days. Not only was it about 10°C cooler, but you could fall asleep under the stars. Sadly no one was able to wake me up when it started raining one night but it was a short lived drizzle. Finally, on the day before I left Durai, the head of security for Model Farm, took us to a well that was about 20 feet across, 30 feet down a set up spiralling granite stairs to the water, and at least another 20 feet deep under the water. Jumping from halfway up the stairs into the water and swimming with Durai and one of his sons was a fitting end to the great time I had in Ullar.


Brock Phillips

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