Barefoot solar engineers

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Everyone has a gift.

Bunker Roy says you don’t have to be able to read or write to be able to contribute to the success of your community with your gift. Find the right person for the job, train her (yes, her, because in his words, “men are untrainable”!), and the whole community benefits.

His philosophy has had a tremendous impact on rural villages around the world. By plucking handfuls of illiterate grandmothers out of their communities for six months at a time and training them to be self-sufficient solar engineers, they return to their villages with a new-found confidence and ability to put their hard-earned skills into practice.

“Brenda,” asked Bunker, “Can you help us find grandmothers? In Myanmar?”

With the initial connections made, he and Meagan from Barefoot College set out to meet with potential candidates. We travelled by bull cart for almost three hours before arriving at one of the rural communities, this one in Myanmar’s Mon State, where we were treated to a traditional lunch lovingly prepared by the ladies in the village.

bull cart in Myanmar  ladies that lunch_2022

selected to be solar engineersEach of the six women ultimately chosen for the study scholarship is highly respected in her home village. Leaders at heart, these women know how to manage the affairs of their community. They care deeply about their children, their grandchildren, and the future of their villages.

They will leave their homes and travel further than they ever envisaged. They will get on a plane for the first time in their lives. They will travel to Tilonia,  Rajasthan, in India, where they will learn a new trade.  Tearfully, yet courageously, they accepted the offer to leave their families behind for half a year.

gazing outA couple of years ago I first had the pleasure of meeting this particular dynamic duo, when they travelled by foot nearly all day to take part in a discussion about the future of their village, many miles north of Yangon. At the time we were only scratching the surface of what solar electrification might look like for that community. Now, as we gazed out together over the expanse between our vantage point and their villages in the distance, we were each thinking of how those plans had evolved. The group had spent the day planning their study trip to India and all that this would entail – there was so much to take in! We stood there dreaming of what it would mean for them to return mid September as fully-fledged solar engineers with the ability to install self-sustaining electricity generators in their villages.

It’s an adventure, a challenge and a gift – for everyone involved.

Full Moon

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Full Moon is the name of an orphanage in Myanmar, where more than 200 children live. The youngest are toddlers, around 3-years old, finding their way to the orphanage with hardly a memory of the place they have come from. The oldest are young adults in their early twenties, who have grown up in Full Moon and who are about to embark on a new phase of their lives.

Full Moon Orphanage For several years I have watched the orphans of Full Moon grow and flourish. Their lives have changed in amazing ways under the care and guidance of Joe, NiSat and the team of caregivers. Together we’ve worked to develop the children’s well-being, their education and the environment in which they live.

Here are just a few of the beautiful girls that live at Full Moon. This particular day they escorted me around the grounds, took me to the fish pond and over to their dorms. I love so much spending this special time with the girls – and it’s reciprocated! They adorned me with jewellery flowers in my hair and thanaka on my face. Used for hundreds of years by Burmese women and children, the lightly fragrant thanaka cream is drawn on cheeks and noses to highlight beauty and for general well-being. It is a wonderful gift to receive – full moons on my cheeks and in my heart.

Incubating care

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One of the things you come to appreciate as a traveller is that there are always different ways of looking at things. Local teachings, generations of beliefs and traditions, are all part of what colours our cultures.sick boy On a visit to one of the orphanages that I supported in Myanmar, I came across a teachable moment. In the rice storage room that we were inspecting, there was a huddle of blankets on the concrete floor. Underneath it, sweating profusely, an 8-year old boy was dying of dehydration. Thin as a stick, he hadn’t eaten in days. His high fever led his carers to deprive him of water in the folklorish belief that a fever must be starved and sweated out. No-one had called a doctor to check on the boy or confirm his symptoms and course of treatment.

I tore off the blankets and called for water, and quickly had someone bring ice from the market and cloth with which to sponge him down. The boy thirsted for water and I could hardly keep up with his need to drink and to replenish his dehydrated body. I was so thankful to be there – it wasn’t too late to save him.

At that moment I realized that not all native teachings had to be the way forward. There had to be a way to share basic, modern healthcare information with the caregivers of tucked away orphanages. How to provide health education and access to health workers to guide people to better look after themselves and those in their care? The seed for our caregiver program was born in that moment and over time developed with local doctors and educators. It combines practical tips and guidance to operate orphanages and care homes and it is delivered through a support network that ensures each facility now has a Caregiver Manual to which to refer instead of having to rely on self diagnosis.

Our fever boy recovered fully in a matter of days.