Continued...

I've never really been in a place like this ever before. We've passed by villages and waved at kids from the train but this is quite a different experience. Once they know you are there from an aid organization everyone is really friendly. But the elders there advise against going close to the huts where the affected live coz they could turn unruly. We really dont believe them but because we had enough work to do with the making of kits and so on, we decided not to go meet them till the next day.
I know its quite odd to say this but our group had quite some fun getting things done. My co-helpers were from a local college and one guy from a software company, also in Chennai. This chap had actually come staright from office- in formals with even the identity card tag hanging around his neck. It was a pleasant sight seeing him with folded up sleeves wishing that he could miss his work and join us the next day too.
We bought 200 plastic bags of all sizes and made kits, containing one piece or particlar measures of each item. Toward the end when rations werent enough we compensated with extra biscuit packets which were in abundance, hoping that the people who got thee kits wouldnt feel so bad.
The most entertaining was the sorting of clothes. To bring in some colour and joy to the otherwise sombre process, we decided to match the boxes of salwar kameezes and also sarees with blouses. Surprisingly the men seemed to be quite good at the task, even hunting for similar coloured dupattas to go with it. We discarded so much of stuff which we thought wouldnt be quite appropriate- terribly torn clothes, pieces of underwear, disco wear and an old negligee with well, not much of cloth in it. We also put the kids wear in diffrently coloured plastic bags depending on the age and sex of the kid. We were quite dissappointed that the distribution couldnt be done the same day. The social workers briefed us on how there couldnt be any sort of aid distribution without a survey and how tokens had to be distributed earlier to each deserving family else the havoc and chaos would be uncontrollable. They recounted how they once took 200 'kudams' in a lorry and on reaching there found just 80. On a curve, the people had very skillfully managed to snatch quite a number of them.
We had done all the kit-sorting in a house there .. when we left, their little home was filled with all colours of plastic bags in all rooms. They seemed quite happy we had chosen to do the work in their house. And finally what the social workers made sense. When we had wondered why we werent doing the sorting at the godown itself, they had told us that the community there wants to get involved, even if it only means watching us.
The next day we all met at around 11 am. Today we had no transport and had to go by the public bus service. It meant taking two buses but we were accompanied by the same sweet ladies so we werent too worried about getting lost. The Chennai heat made the travelling quite tiresome but the little onion samosas, the cucumber with chilly powder and the rest of the lovely sights at the bus stop lift your spirits.
We went to the same cute little house. The baby there was crying quite loudly and wasnt really pacified by the five of us walking into his crawling territory. We checked our supplies, caught hold of a local guy and instructed him to take us to the seaside.
He walked us through mazes of huts. He told us how the surveys to find the families who were really affected had happenned a few days earlier and how a bunch of them had distributed tokens this morning. The people had been instructed to come at around 4.30 and we still had about an hour to visit the place, transfer the kits and set up shop.
Walking through the little huts, you can feel the sea nearing.. the blankness in the sky and the light smell of the Bay of bengal. As we walked closer, a woman came out and pulled at my hand. She asked me in Tamil if I'd come to give coupons to their 'kuppam' or hamlet. I replied saying that I was just here to see the place and that the coupon-givers would be coming a bit later. I wasnt really sure of what I was saying but the stories of the chaos and fights had truly scared me a bit.
From hearing to seeing- we quite literally ran into one of those. One of the area's women's club ladies was there giving coupons on our behalf. Actually they were joining with us to give away vessels. There was a huge crowd around her and we could only see her waving hands. Women were screaming at each other about how the lady who just got the coupon was not one of the affected. " How would you know?" retorted the one clutching the pink coupon.
An excited man pointed at my camera and asked us if we were from the press. 'They take pictures and we never get any help' he said. And with that he made it easy for us. A sprighty young lady led us to the site. We could see thatches lying all over the place. All flattenned out as if they were out for drying. Mangled in it were clothes, books, pieces of metal and memories of a peaceful fishing hamlet. The woman then ran across the thatches and posed, waiting for us to take snaps of her. The men around her instructed her to stand timidly, like someone who has been affected. We didnt want to dissappoint them and took pictures of all of it. These are for our personal use, we told them. But you will be on our list today, we assured them. Everyone was eager to tell us what had happenned. There used to be enough sand for kids to play cricket. And now the sea lashes angrily against a few rocks, having come closer by a few feet.
We can see a few rafts against the sun. some trying to get into the mood for fishing, some trying to get the fish into the mood. The women are still fighting. But there is some hope. The lad with us tells us about Sundarapuram, where the community sense is overwhelming. Every bit of aid inflow is equally divided among all the familes that have been affected. So when we told them we could give 30 kits to their hamlet, they tell us to give all the material for the 30 kits and that they would share them all.
Even in times of despair and disaster, the brawls sadden you. There is a story of a man who sold the 5 kg rice given to him as relief. Stories of the hut-owners parading as the affected while the actual tenants get nothing. In times like this the tales of Sundarapuram give hope.