Reflections on LEC Yatras

As the plane dipped down to land at Goa, memories of our earlier LEC encounters swooped into my mind. Udaipur was the first. How eager and yet unsure we were. It was all unknown territory. Why did we want to take this on? Who would it be for? What should we cover? When should it happen? How would it work?! There were only questions. But it is ‘a truth universally known’ that working and thinking together makes things happen. And so it did! We were off and running.

The Udaipur course began and the camaraderie at our living quarters was unmatchable. Faculty and participants share rooms, sometimes with bats as well. The baked rooms were a challenge to sleep in at night but the fellowship was paramount. In winter our bathwater steamed over a gas fire at one end of the corridor. But nothing was a problem. There were always ready hands to carry my bath water to my room. At night those who were game gathered on the terrace to sing, laugh and mingle. On the last night, Sujata and I were ceremoniously escorted to the terrace where two rickety but stable chairs had been found for us to sit back on, and enjoy the entertainment.

We discovered that language was no barrier to a group of eager and committed library educators to immerse themselves in the course. Many of them picked up the torch and kept it alight in small communities where they work.

In each space and with each batch it was a course for all seasons. Intolerable heat, welcome rain and cold cold nights.

On to LEC 2 and to Sirohi in Rajasthan. We were ensconced in a luxurious hotel this time but nothing could keep the scorching sun at bay during our sessions. The hall was not too spacious and we were all too close to each other for physical comfort. But never by word or gesture did we hear a complaint. Enthusiasm and total involvement were paramount- from faculty, mentors and participants. This group of library educators was a bit more experienced and articulate perhaps, but the eagerness to learn and share was all too visible. The close bonding between the participants was evident again when Sujata and I went to their floor one night. The corridor was alight with laughter, song and chatter. What fun it seemed. The faculty had their fun too- sneaking out during sessions to have Kulfi at the roadside cart!

All of them are back at their places of work hopefully carrying a part of what we have shared. But without close mentoring will it get diluted? And how is mentoring to happen across such diverse spaces? These questions remain.

A gentle bump brings me back to the present. We are in Goa and it is time to embark on LEC No. 3 in English A new set of participants and for me – new challenges. I have been a practitioner all my working life, using instinct, observation and a strong bonding with books and children, to guide my actions. Now a strong academic element deepened and directed the course. Would I be able to rise to these new and exciting challenges? The participant group too had impressive backgrounds of research and writing. Then there was Moodle. But that is another story! But as I stood on the first morning in the circle of connection, I felt a deep sense of communion. We are all in this together and there will now be many more strong voices to speak and act on behalf of children and reading. We may be at different levels and stages in our learning but we are all one in this quest. Each of us is flowering in our own little patch but also slowly but surely putting out tendrils to reach out further and further.

Quiet time for reading. Quiet time on the beach. I felt invigorated and soothed at these times. I think I went through a whole gamut of emotions during this contact session but looking back, I feel each was a tremendous learning for me as my LEC yatras continue.

I am sharing a poem called “Home.” Read library as home!

Home

Give me a home that isn’t mine,
where I can slip in and out of rooms without a trace,
never worrying about the plumbing,
the colour of the curtains,
the cacophony of books by the bedside.
A home that I can wear lightly,
where the rooms aren’t clogged with yesterday’s conversations,
where the self doesn’t bloat to fill in the crevices.
A home, like this body,
so alien when I try to belong,
so hospitable when I decide I’m just visiting.

Arundhathi Subramaniam