The Community Collective are co-founders Adam and Ben, two guys from Melbourne, Australia whose good work devising access to skateboarding takes a global bent – from Melbs, to India and – next up – Palestine. Why? Because skateboarding promotes wellbeing, health and social connections. How? By building creative and cost-effective skate facilities in communities where budgets might otherwise be unable to support it. Ben tells the story of their recent project to India, travelling around the country in conjunction with a local organization HolyStoked, and the support of Vans Australia. It’s a great story, and a great cause, so – if it’s not too corny to say – get on board.  

To anyone planning a visit to India with the intention of helping to grow and cultivate the local skateboarding scene, prepare to be humbled by the overwhelming generosity and hospitality of the locals. It was the third trip up the stairs to the seventh floor and for each of us, the last load of our belongings. Each haul had progressively made the tiny place where we were to stay even more cramped and over- crowded. Sri Venkatesh (Venky) was one of Bangalore’s skateboarders who had offered to put us up in his apartment in HSR Layout. Initially I couldn’t help but feel guilty: Venky shared the one bedroom apartment with his work mate Guarav, and the only communal space they had which measured a roughly two by three meters was now filled with piles of (our) bags and equipment. The rest of the available floor space was soon to be occupied by our mattresses. Once unburdened by our luggage, Venky showed us to the rooftop of the apartment building. The rooftop was spacious, clean and quiet— seemingly the opposite of everything that had begun to frustrate me about this city. It was a no-brainer: the rooftop would be where we stayed during our short time in Bangalore.

Home in Anunja

Every bus ride we embarked on seemed as though it very well might be our last. As the ride from Bangalore to Goa swayed violently from side to side, I found myself wishing we had booked the safer seats on the left hand side further towards the back of the bus——safely distancing ourselves from the danger of an oncoming collision with one of the many trucks or buses that hurtled past our window. While we sped dangerously around the corners without slowing, I eventually consoled myself by judging the age of the driver: if this middle-aged man was able to survive this long into his career as an overnight coach driver, he must surely be capable of getting us safely to our destination. Fourteen hours since first climbing aboard the overnight bus, we found ourselves on a guided tour around a property in Anjuna, Goa, where we would start our first project.  

The landowner, a tall young Indian man named Ignatius, ran a Guesthouse for the many Bohemian alternative types that come to Goa during the dry season. Ignatius, or Iggy as we would come to know him, had a progressive mind which was reflected in the huts and tree-houses which surrounded us; each of which were constructed from recycled materials. Hessian sacks made up the walls for privacy and cut up soft drink bottles would be cleverly used as makeshift windows to let light in. Everything we could see was once discarded and now creatively put to a new use. Iggy climbed the ladder leading to what would be our home for the coming two weeks. We followed him unsure how many people the structure hanging from the tree could hold. “Even if it fell you wont get too hurt” he reassured us. 3 meters above the ground we set about making ourselves at home.

Our fresh energy and enthusiasm seemed to be our greatest asset on the worksite in Anjuna, as the task at hand was quite big for our relative experience level. Starting early was a necessity.  By the time it reached midday, the heat in Anjuna would peak at roughly 36 degrees. To counter this we would wake and start at 7 and work until 11, at which point we would break for the hottest hours of the day. Around mid afternoon we would slowly get stuck back in and work long into the evening, often finishing at around midnight, sometimes later. This was essentially the routine we followed for the next few and a bit. Finishing on the 12th day we were finally able to clock in some leisure time.

Coast to Coast

After the completion of our first project we spent three tiring days heading west, eventually finding ourselves on the other side of the country and staring out over the Bay of Bengal. Mahabalipuram was a fishing village just over an hour south of Chennai.

The villagers here seemed oblivious to the environmental implications of their relationship with the ocean. Although the area’s main industry was fishing, the townspeople would take their rubbish down to the ocean at then end of the day and throw bags upon bags of plastic waste into the sea. The sand was littered with garbage but this didn’t seem to worry the hundreds of beach goers who visited the area on weekends.

At first we were hesitant to join them in the water and for good reason, but the climate was hot and humid. Temptation got the better of us. The water was greenish-brown and murky, yellow foam formed between the waves as they churned everything over and over, as though it was the weeks dirty washing splashing around inside a top-loader. Occasionally whilst swimming you would feel something Slimy brush up against your skin beneath the water… we found it best not to think about it.

World Build 1.5

It would take a 10 minute bus ride to travel from our hostel room to the site of our final project. Each day we would catch that local bus. We must have been an unusual sight for the regular commuters of the area—— judging by the looks we would receive as we boarded the bus. We stepped off just out of town and walked past the local high school and hospital, then onwards along a dirt track that weaved through a dry grass plane. At the end of the dirt path was the village of Punjeri, small brick huts with woven palm fronds used for roofing populated the narrow streets.

– See more at: http://theadventurehandbook.com/world-build/#sthash.Ty2lUhkC.dpuf

Mukesh was in his mid teens and lived with his family on a small property in the village. By family, I mean whole family, as Mukesh lived with his brothers, parents and grandparents. The hut in which they lived was no bigger than the key of a basketball court. Mukesh was a keen skateboarder, although wasn’t really able to express this very well as there was nowhere in Mahabalipuram that was really suitable for learning to skate. His father had agreed to allow us to build a small ramp in their backyard for all the children in the village to use despite the little free space they had. We had parameters to work by, but by this point of the trip the notion of building a smaller ramp was a welcome relief.

Since returning to Melbourne dreams and ambitions of future projects have consumed us. So much so that I have quit my job and moved out of my house in Brunswick East. We leave for Asira El-Shameliya (Palestine) on the 31st of August, where we will be working on a big (700+ square meters) project with UK organisation SkatePals, we will return for a few weeks in October before heading over to Myanmar to help out with another project which is happening in Yangon. Beyond this we don’t have any real solid plans, but the possibilities are endless and it’s the only thing we want to do.

Words and images by Ben Hermans from The Community Collective.