During our stay in India from 1965 to 1967, we did not have the use of any telephones. Aside from visits, all communication between members of India 20A consisted of letters and occasionally telegrams if the information was urgent.  This page contains letters and sections from letters, written by India 20A volunteers and sent to India 20A volunteers.  From a perspective of almost forty years, they reveal a great deal about the experiences of the India 20A volunteers and India of that time. 

India 20A PCVs Looking forward to two years on-site. Photo taken on the first day in Trivandrum, Kerala - 1965

Note that all the men are wearing shoes. After a week or so every man switched to sandels because of the heat and humidity (and despite the warnings of getting hookworm by the India 20A public health trainers in Milwaukee).

Rich!

So you've taken to the ocean - you old NYC'er. What luck. I've seen it (only) three times since being here. Yesterday we spent shopping in Calicut. Stopped by the part with its fishing flet and carts; wandered back, less Rs 3 with a boy loaded with wood following behind. Blasted imperialists! At first I really rebelled against the role, but now have decided to accept it gracefully – like wearing sandals or eating rice. What is the alternative? Of course, I keep explaining the necessity of accepting this role which probably means that I haven’t – without feeling guilty. Anyway, I suspect that an old middle-class-values revel, like yourself might have experience the same trauma (?) I’d like to get a reaction from Miss Moos. Even the M.P’ers like Linda Eide – so the crew says are well housed, if lonely, sick and isolated.

Nance and I have a 6 room manor with a veranda. All of us eat here – dining on the works of our jolly old British trained cook. (How can we curse the British?) Feasting, running about the countryside on Sunday. You know the scene: visiting the BDO. Etc.

I like this place though! Never been homesick really. Shastri’s death gave a sort of perspective to the thing – as if, all of a sudden, I were standing on a platform – me an American, addressing the Indian people; a sort of kinship I guess; not that the death was taken tragically – it wasn’t. But a sort of sense of the fullness of our position as outsiders transcending the system, but accepted by peoples of all financial levels and castes. Such freedom we never have at home!

But freedom I think is hardest of all entities to handle (a bit of stench just drifted in from somewhere) All my time, my own! Really? Can I accept it? My friend, teaching in France found the same to be true with only a few hours of actual planned time. Do all peoples babble every hour like we do? Well we are in the usual throws of theory here.  The concrete, so far consist of paper plans (good!) and talk foundations (also good!) for a poultry project - George and Phil - not to get off the ground for a while. Meanwhile, a basic school health program (?) hitting use of latrines, clean water and kitchen gardens (all verbal realities of course).

Anyway, does it matter? Yes I’ve decided. What else have we to offer? Our great American genius? (I can’t even get a good fire going for a meal without an hour’s work)

Oh well – the sun is beating down on the mid-morning palm trees. Time for a trip to the Public Health Center to see what the scoop is.

I don’t know about coming down yet. Keep us informed you old statesman.

Kathy

January 15, 1966

Dear Dick, “Ess”, Dave & Gay,

Dick, I just opened your letter and it’s great to hear about your setup. I really envy your location over looking the Arabian Sea. My house is situated about 100 ft. from the railroad tracks – that “Bombay Special” is driving me crazy!  Actually, my place is pretty comfortable, although I haven’t received my furniture yet. I’ve been to see the civil surgeon four times, in Gwalior, it’s always “next week” about the furniture. I hope I get it before the seminar.

The View From Kerala-Scenes like this are what most of the Kerala PCVs saw every day

You know, I experienced my first case of “Indian dysentery” on the train from Delhi. It was a very “unpleasant trip.”  When I arrived in Gwalior, a large city of 400,000 and only 23 miles from Dabra, I met 3 other PCV’s all of whom were going to Dabra.  Dabra’s a small place (about 45,000) but it’s got its share of Peace Corps Volunteers. I learn now that there’s a nurse coming later this month.  I’ve spent the past two weeks touring the near by villages, checking out the govt’s nutrition program. Needless to say it’s in bad shape, but with 4 of us working (the others are in poultry and agri extension) we “should” be able to do something.  I qualify that because in my brief experience with the “administrators” things don’t always work out as they should.  That brings to mind the situation at the P.H.C. The doctor here reminds me of Elder* and the pugnacious Indian of the “role playing days.”  This guy is well known for his graft and so far he’s been an all round “Bastard” if you will excuse the expression. I think most of my work will be with the Agri extension Officer.

On the domestic side, I had a heck of a time finding a cook, but fortunately a couple of weeks ago I got a young Muslim, and since, have been trying to show him some American Dishes. It’s not always easy because he speaks no English.  Although that with 4 pcv’s here we might be in the same household, but I’m living alone.  Not for long though, you know I told you about the nurse, well, you’ll never guess who she’s supposed to live with – my long lost sister!!

Since I was stationed alone, I haven’t heard from any of “my” group, but B. Gould said we would have an orientation period in late Jan. (we went directly to our sites with no regional orientation in Dec.) so I’ll see them then. Actually, I was much closer to the Kerala group and sure hope I can get down to see you there.  I was thinking I might take some leave after the seminar depending, of course, on where it’s held. Also, I’m only about 200 miles from Delhi and am anticipating some “official” trips, so if for any reason you have occasion to go to Delhi, let me know.

Well, Dick, I can’t begin to tell you everything that’s happened to me and I know your experiences have been many too. I would like to hear about your activities at the P.H.C..

Hey, “Es” great to hear from you even if you are writing small now! Been to any plays lately? I’d like to hear more about those trips to Trivandrum, remember the “Peace Corps Image.” Ha Ha!

Listen, Dave ‘n Gay, I’m always available for any advice; I’m sure Peace Corps Delhi would give me official leave! Sorry about that Dave! Anyway, I hope I’ll hear from you all soon.

See you all at the Seminar,

Dennis

* Dr. Joseph W. Elder, Chairman, Indian Studies Department at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and one of India 20 A's comparative studies trainers.

Kalady 7/25/67

Dear Katie,

If you start from the premise that there is no God given reason to be living then you are left with three alternatives, 1) kill yourself, 2) live a vegetable type of live, 3) create a reason to be living so that your life has some meaning or take note of that which means something or is of significance to you so that life is at least reasonable.

PCV Jerry Feck in the village of Malayatoor (1967) 

I take the third way out. It boils down to this example: A few months ago I and one other PCV, Jerry Feck from Ernakulam, climbed Mt. Malayatoor during the St. Thomas festival. Along with us were about 200,000 Indians. It was a hot, humid typical Kerala day.  We had no drinking water and struggled to the top along with the beggars, mystics, religious and what have you. ¾ of the way up a rainstorm hit and we got soaked to the skin and finally got some water to drink. We kept going on and finally made it to the top. We rested, then came down & took a country boat back down to Kalady.  When we mentioned to people afterward that we did climb Mt. Malayatoor on St. Thomas day, they just shrugged their shoulders and said “that’s nice.” Hence, meaningful experiences are limited in range to those that experience them first hand. Nobody else will realize or care as to exactly what you are doing or did and tragically sometimes even the person you are experiencing it with does not realize that anything of any significance has taken place. Therefore life is personal, and two people or more that share the same

experience and have it affect them & mean

St. Thomas' footprint captured in stone at the top of Mt. Malayatoor (1967)

something are indeed fortunate. They have perhaps created a “community of spirit.” Unfortunately the big hang up is that I don’t think anyone else thinks this way.

Aug. 22 Tom, Helen, Karen Thornbery and I have train tickets on a through car to Delhi. On Aug. 31^st I will be on a plane to Israel. If your next letter won’t arrive before the 22^nd then address it in this manner.

Richard Smith

c/o Bill Lyman

Kibbutz Yakum

Closed Post Bag

Tel Aviv

Israel

Love

Richard

Every returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) received a similar letter.

Peace Corps Volunteers, Richard Smith and Tom Culberston with their cook M.J. David in front of their house in the town of Kalady in the State of Kerala, India in 1967. Note the bicycles which were given to the volunteers by the Government of India and which were their primary form of transportation.