City lights dimmed to fireflies. Paved avenues morphed into dusty tracks. And somewhere along the way, the soundtrack of honking horns surrendered to the symphony of crickets. My first trip into rural india was not just a change in scenery, it was a delightful dance with traditions older than bollywood itself. For me, a lifelong resident of an urban city, rural India had always been a distant canvas painted by movies: emerald fields swaying in the breeze, sari-clad women stirring dal in earthen pots, and children chasing chickens under mango trees. It was beautiful, romanticized, and frankly, a tad bit intimidating. But this December, I found myself packing my bags and boarding a bus to the Ambapani campsite in Dang and visiting nearby villages I could barely pronounce.
LO1: Identify their own strengths and develop areas for growth
Arriving in the campsite, my carefully planned schedule, meticulously curated wardrobe, and dependence on my phone felt as out of place as disco music in a temple. I could navigate rush hour madness, whip up gourmet ramen in minutes, and hold my own in any debate. But amidst the nature, huts and trees, my urban armor began to crack. My sense of direction, honed by GPS and Google Maps, was useless against the labyrinthine paths etched by generations of bare feet. This immersion wasn’t just a cultural exchange; it was a brutal honesty test. It exposed my strengths – curiosity and adaptability. I had a genuine eagerness to learn as I tried every new activity despite being hesitant initially and conversed with the villagers and camp volunteers about the village life, their income and the many trees and organisms around. My city-honed analytical mind, programmed for efficiency, gave way to a newfound patience, a willingness to learn from the unhurried rhythm of village life. The early morning wake up calls, once annoying alarms, became a catalyst for a sunrise meditation that stretched my body and calmed my mind. But while I discovered strengths I didn’t know I possessed, the harsh sunlight also illuminated my areas for growth: an over reliance on technology and lack of physical exercise. The first small trek of the immersion already had me panting and catching my breath while the villagers walked thrice the amount daily and two days into the immersion I was already missing my phone and my playlists. As I returned from the trip, I promised myself to work on these areas of growth by distancing myself from technology a little and trying to go on daily walks or do any form of stamina building every day to overcome my lack of stamina.
LO4: Show commitment to and perseverance in their CAS experiences
Throughout the trip, my city-bred muscles protested the unfamiliar symphony of aches and pains. There were early mornings at 6 that tested my city honed sleep schedule and days where I stepped out of my comfort zone and did activities I never imagined I would do like lipan and milking cows. Initially, the unfamiliarity of it all, the physical challenges and the discomfort of being at a new place all got to me as I flinched at every spider I saw, started missing the comfort of my room and dreaded what was coming next. However, as hours passed and I slowly learnt that the tasks I found challenging were the daily routine of the villagers, a new sense of resolve bloomed. I thought about why I first decided to come here and it was to push my boundaries, to embrace the unfamiliar, to fully immerse myself in the rhythm of this rural life. This thought gave me motivation as I persevered through the daily activities. This wasn’t a vacation, but a curated snapshot of rural life. It was a slow, messy immersion, demanding flexibility and a willingness to shed the comfort of routine. I learned that commitment is not just about enduring, but about embracing the unexpected and finding grace in the discomfort.
LO6: Demonstrate engagement with issues of global significance
The rural immersion was an eye opener into what goes on in the daily lives of villagers, of tribals and the kind of struggles that they face. Some of these struggles are issues of global significance and I got the chance to witness it and experience it firsthand. Some of the issues faced by the villagers that are of global significance are lack of transportation, with them having to walk a long distance just to go to the market for food and lack of resourceful healthcare systems. However, we in turn got to learn how they lived sustainably with zero waste, a quality that is necessary to learn in the recent times.
LO7: Recognise and consider the ethics of choices and actions
Stepping into a rural village wasn’t a tourist expedition; it was a delicate dance of respect and responsibility. We, the city slickers, arrived with cameras and curiosity, but before we click a shutter or blurt out an insensitive question, we had to remember: these are not characters in a movie, but people with lives, histories, and vulnerabilities. Open-mindedness was our first ethical consideration and offering. The rhythm of life here might be slower, the dialect different, and the customs strange. But judgment had no place in this immersive experience. Instead, we listened with genuine interest, asked thoughtful and insensitive questions, and treated every interaction with respect and as a chance to learn and grow. Not joking about the villager’s livelihood was another essential ethical consideration. This wasn’t a stage to showcase our possessions. Jokes at the expense of the villagers or their children are not only insensitive but also disrespectful. We were there to learn, not to mock.
Leaving will be hard, even if it means escaping the early morning wake up call. Activities I once deemed “challenging” – putting hands in cow dung and applying it on the wall, helping carry the rice stacks across a field, trekking rattled down dusty paths – now hold the bittersweet tang of cherished memories.Overall, the rural immersion trip to Ambapani was an eye opener into the livelihood of villages and what their daily life looks like, it was a reality check of the villages that movies often romanticize. I witnessed the back-breaking labor, the constant fight against drought and poverty, and the quiet struggles that etched themselves onto the faces of those I met. It was a stark reminder of the privileges I took for granted, a call to action disguised as a cup of chai shared under a lemon tree. Village life, I discovered, was woven with threads of both resilience and struggle.
