Living in the shadow of malnutrition, in the remote tribal district of Nandurbar, Devdas Mavachai is reading up on Australia. He spends a lot of time in his office dreaming of sending his daughter abroad for higher education.‘‘We dream about it everyday,’’ says Mavachai, an assistant development officer in the tribal development office. ‘‘Getting to know the procedure takes time. But we want it to work out for my daughter who is doing her bachelor’s in Ayurvedic medicine.’’Till a few years back, no one dared to dream in Nandurbar. In a district known for malnutrition-related deaths, going to school was a big deal. College was an achievement. Now, students are exploring the Internet to find a way out.In 1998, when Nandurbar was declared a district, only 5,972 students were enrolled in classes five to seven in government schools. Today the number has more than doubled and the state government has stepped in with a full scholarship scheme for at least 10 students to study abroad, with preference to children of landless tribals. The government resolution assures children from families with annual incomes of Rs 2.5 lakh of aid and even encourages working tribals below 45 years to give higher education a chance.‘‘The change is heartening,’’ says Tribal Commissioner R.K. Sagar. ‘‘Starting this academic year, we are introducing scholarships for children who want to do graduation or post-graduation abroad. Right now, we have one applicant and are hoping that over the years this number will go up.’’The numbers are already up. A few kilometres away from Mavachai’s office, in another tribal home, Dr Bharat Valvi is organising his son’s papers for a trip to Australia. ‘‘Our son’s decision to study abroad has been a learning experience for us,’’” says Valvi. ‘‘We didn’t know anything about passports and visas. We didn’t know how to fund the trip. We knew nothing.’’For the Valvis, it has been a long journey from their remote Janoli village on the Gujarat border to the graduation ceremony of their son in the University of Western Australia in Perth.‘‘We saw it on the computer,’’ the proud gynaecologist says. ‘‘When I decided to become a doctor in the 1970s, my classmates had laughed. When I became a gynaecologist, there was more discouragement. When my son decided to study abroad, we struggled with the formalities. Today, everyone comes to us to know how we did it.’’‘‘After I finished class XII, I was confused about what I wanted to do,’’ recalls Valvi’s son, Nikhil. ‘‘I didn’t get into a good medical college and wasted a year just waiting for a seat. Then I decided to get moving. I surfed the Net, took all the English proficiency exams required and got through a university in Perth.’’Then began the Valvi family’s struggle for funds, a passport and visa. ‘‘Back then the government didn’t help so we went to a bank for loan,’’ says Valvi. ‘‘We struggled with paperwork but managed. Now we tell others how to go about this.’’Today, everyone knows the boy who went to Australia—the farthest any tribal from Nandurbar has ever been. Nikhil has become the poster boy of Nandurbar, inspiring many others to give it a shot.One such student is Kshitij Chaudhary, Nikhil’s childhood friend, who is exploring university options in Canada, hoping to find a suitable course in communication electronics. Both boys spend time figuring out their choices, marvelling at the variety of options available to them.And when they aren’t focusing on their careers, Nikhil shares his down under experiences with Nandurbar. ‘‘People have no idea where Nandurbar is, even Maharashtrians,’’ Nikhil says. ‘‘In Australia I describe Nandurbar as a small developing tribal town. I am immediately asked if people travel on horseback everywhere. Even today, the only time Nandurbar hits the headlines is when children die. I hope we can change that one day.’’
