I'd like to take you to another world. And I'd like to share a 45 year-old love story with the poor, living on less than one dollar a day. I went to a very elitist, snobbish, expensive education in India, and that almost destroyed me. I was all set to be a diplomat, teacher, doctor -- all laid out. Then, I don't look it, but I was the Indian national squash champion for three years. (Laughter) The whole world was laid out for me. Everything was at my feet. I could do nothing wrong. And then I thought out of curiosity I'd like to go and live and work and just see what a village is like.
Beste mundu batera eraman nahi zintuzketet. Eta partekatu nahi nuke 45 urteko maitasun istorio bat, txiroekiko, egunean dolar bat baino gutxiagorekin bizi direnekiko. Heziketa oso elitista, harroputza, garestia jaso nuen Indian, eta hark ia hondatu ninduen. Prest nengoen diplomatiko, irakasle, sendagile izateko -- dena prest zegoen. Garai hartan, ez dut ematen, baino Indiako squash txapeldun nazionala izan nintzen hiru urtez. (Barre-algarak) Mundu osoa zegoen neuretzako prest. Guztia zegoen neure oinetara. Ezin nuen ezer gaizki egin. Eta orduan jakin-minez pentsatu nuen gustatuko litzaidakeela herrixka batera bizitzera joan, bertan lan egin eta nolakoa den ikustea.
So in 1965, I went to what was called the worst Bihar famine in India, and I saw starvation, death, people dying of hunger, for the first time. It changed my life. I came back home, told my mother, "I'd like to live and work in a village." Mother went into a coma. (Laughter) "What is this? The whole world is laid out for you, the best jobs are laid out for you, and you want to go and work in a village? I mean, is there something wrong with you?" I said, "No, I've got the best eduction. It made me think. And I wanted to give something back in my own way." "What do you want to do in a village? No job, no money, no security, no prospect." I said, "I want to live and dig wells for five years." "Dig wells for five years? You went to the most expensive school and college in India, and you want to dig wells for five years?" She didn't speak to me for a very long time, because she thought I'd let my family down.
Beraz 1965ean, Indiako Bihar lurraldeko gosete handiena deitu zitzaionera joan nintzen, eta gosea ikusi nuen, heriotza, jendea gosez hiltzen, lehenengo aldiz. Hark neure bizitza aldatu zuen. Etxera itzuli nintzen, ene amari esan nion, "Herrixka batean bizi eta lan egin nahi nuke." Ama koman sartu zen. (Barre-algarak) "Zer da hau? Mundu osoa zure eskura dago, lanpostu onenak zure eskura daude, eta herrixka batera joan eta bertan lan egin nahi duzula? Esan nahi dut, zugan zer edo zer gaizki dago?" Esan nion, "Ez, heziketa onena jaso dut. Pentsatu arazi dit. Eta trukean, neure erara, zerbait itzuli nahi nuke." "Zer egin nahi duzu herrixka batean? Lanposturik ez, dirurik ez, segurtasunik ez, etorkizunik ez." Esan nion, "Han bizi eta putzuak zulatu nahi ditut bost urtez." "Putzuak zulatu bost urtez? Indiako eskola eta unibertsitate garestienetara joan zara, eta bost urtez putzuak zulatu nahi dituzula?" Denbora oso luzez ez zidan hitz egin, uste zuelako neure familiari huts egin niola.
But then, I was exposed to the most extraordinary knowledge and skills that very poor people have, which are never brought into the mainstream -- which is never identified, respected, applied on a large scale. And I thought I'd start a Barefoot College -- college only for the poor. What the poor thought was important would be reflected in the college. I went to this village for the first time. Elders came to me and said, "Are you running from the police?" I said, "No." (Laughter) "You failed in your exam?" I said, "No." "You didn't get a government job?" I said, "No." "What are you doing here? Why are you here? The education system in India makes you look at Paris and New Delhi and Zurich; what are you doing in this village? Is there something wrong with you you're not telling us?" I said, "No, I want to actually start a college only for the poor. What the poor thought was important would be reflected in the college."
Baino orduan, jende oso txiroak dituen ezagutza eta trebetasun txundigarrienak agerian jarri zitzaizkidan, gainazalera sekula ekartzen ez direnak -- sekula modu zabalean identifikatu, errespetatu, erabiltzen ez direnak. Eta pentsatu nuen Oinustuen Unibertsitate bat sortuko nuela -- txiroentzako soilik izango zen unibertsitatea. Txiroek garrantzitsua zela uste zutena islatuko zen unibertsitatean. Herrixka honetara joan nintzen lehenengo aldiz. Zaharrak etorri zitzaizkidan eta esan zidaten, "Poliziarengandik ihesi zatoz?" Esan nien, "Ez." (Barre-algarak) "Zure azterketan huts egin duzu?" Esan nien, "Ez." "Ez duzu gobernuaren lanpostu bat eskuratu?" Esan nien, "Ez." "Zer egiten duzu hemen? Zergatik zaude hemen? Indiako hezkuntza sistemak Paris eta New Delhi eta Zurich-era begiratzera bultzatzen zaitu; zer egiten duzu herrixka honetan? Ba al dago esaten ez diguzun zer edo zer gaizki zurekiko?" Esan nien, "Ez, unibertsitate bat sortu nahi dut txiroentzako soilik. Txiroek garrantzitsua dela uste dutena islatuko litzateke unibertsitatean."
So the elders gave me some very sound and profound advice. They said, "Please, don't bring anyone with a degree and qualification into your college." So it's the only college in India where, if you should have a Ph.D. or a Master's, you are disqualified to come. You have to be a cop-out or a wash-out or a dropout to come to our college. You have to work with your hands. You have to have a dignity of labor. You have to show that you have a skill that you can offer to the community and provide a service to the community. So we started the Barefoot College, and we redefined professionalism.
Hala zaharrek aholku zuhur eta sakon batzuk eman zizkidaten. Esan zidaten, "Mesedez, ez ekarri gradu bat eta titulua duen inor zure unibertsitatera." Horregatik Indiako unibertsitate bakarra da non, Doktoretza edo Master bat izan ezkero, etortzeko desgaituta zaudena. Desastre bat izan behar duzu, porrot egindakoa, baztertua gure unibertsitatera etortzeko. Zure eskuekin lan egin behar duzu. Lanaren duintasuna izan behar duzu. Komunitateari eskaintzeko trebetasun bat daukazula erakutsi behar duzu eta komunitateari zerbitzu bat eskaini. Hala sortu genuen Oinustuen Unibertsitatea, eta profesionaltasuna birdefinitu genuen.
Who is a professional? A professional is someone who has a combination of competence, confidence and belief. A water diviner is a professional. A traditional midwife is a professional. A traditional bone setter is a professional. These are professionals all over the world. You find them in any inaccessible village around the world. And we thought that these people should come into the mainstream and show that the knowledge and skills that they have is universal. It needs to be used, needs to be applied, needs to be shown to the world outside -- that these knowledge and skills are relevant even today.
Nor da profesional bat? Profesional bat da trebetasun, ziurtasun eta sinesmen konbinazioa daukan norbait. Ur-bilatzaile bat profesional bat da. Emagin tradizional bat profesional bat da. Hezur-konpontzaile tradizional bat profesional bat da. Hauek mundu osoan zehar profesionalak dira. Munduan zehar dauden herrixka helezinetan aurkitzen dituzu. Eta pentsatu genuen jende hau gainazalera atera behar zela eta erakutsi beraiek dituzten ezagutza eta trebetasunak unibertsalak direla. Erabili beharra dago, aplikatu beharra dago, kanpoko munduari erakutsi behar zaio -- ezagutza eta trebetasun hauek beharrezkoak direla gaur egun ere.
So the college works following the lifestyle and workstyle of Mahatma Gandhi. You eat on the floor, you sleep on the floor, you work on the floor. There are no contracts, no written contracts. You can stay with me for 20 years, go tomorrow. And no one can get more than $100 a month. You come for the money, you don't come to Barefoot College. You come for the work and the challenge, you'll come to the Barefoot College. That is where we want you to try crazy ideas. Whatever idea you have, come and try it. It doesn't matter if you fail. Battered, bruised, you start again. It's the only college where the teacher is the learner and the learner is the teacher. And it's the only college where we don't give a certificate. You are certified by the community you serve. You don't need a paper to hang on the wall to show that you are an engineer.
Beraz unibertsitatearen jarduerak Mahatma Gandhi-ren bizimodua eta lan egiteko modua jarraitzen ditu. Lurzoruan jaten duzu, lurzoruan lo egiten duzu, lurzoruan lan egiten duzu. Ez dago kontraturik, ez idatzizko kontraturik. Neurekin 20 urtez egon zaitezke edo bihar alde egin. Eta inork ezin du hileko 100$ baino gehiago irabazi. Diruagatik bazatoz, ez etorri Oinustuen Unibertsitatera. Lanagatik eta erronkagatik bazatoz, etorriko zara Oinustuen Unibertsitatera. Hor nahi dugu ideia zoroak probatu ditzazun. Edozein ideia duzula, etorri eta probatu. Ez du axola huts egiten baduzu. Kolpatua, min-hartuta, berriz hasten zera. Unibertsitate bakarra da irakaslea ikasle duena eta ikaslea irakasle duena. Eta unibertsitate bakarra da ziurtagiririk ematen ez duguna. Zerbitzu ematen diozun komunitateak ematen dizu ziurtagiria. Ez duzu behar paper bat horman zintzilik injineru zarela erakusteko.
So when I said that, they said, "Well show us what is possible. What are you doing? This is all mumbo-jumbo if you can't show it on the ground." So we built the first Barefoot College in 1986. It was built by 12 Barefoot architects who can't read and write, built on $1.50 a sq. ft. 150 people lived there, worked there. They got the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 2002. But then they suspected, they thought there was an architect behind it. I said, "Yes, they made the blueprints, but the Barefoot architects actually constructed the college." We are the only ones who actually returned the award for $50,000, because they didn't believe us, and we thought that they were actually casting aspersions on the Barefoot architects of Tilonia.
Hala, hori esan nuenean, esan zidaten, "Ondo da erakutsiguzu zer egin daitekeen. Zer egiten ari zara? Hau guztia hutsaren hurrengoa da ezin baduzu praktikan erakutsi." Hala, Oinustuen lehen Unibertsitatea sortu genuen 1986an. 12 arkitekto Oinustuk eraiki zuten irakurtzen eta idaten ez dakitenak, oin karratuko 1,50$etan eraikia. 150 pertsona bizi ziren eta lan egiten zuten bertan. 2002ko Aga Khan arkitektura saria lortu zuten. Baino gero susmoa izan zuten, pentsatu zuten haren atzean arkitekto bat zegoela. Esan nuen, "Bai, aurreproiektua egin zuten, baino arkitekto Oinustuak izan ziren benetan unibertsitatea eraiki zutenak." Bakarrak gara 50.000$eko saria itzuli dugunak, ez zigutelako sinisten, eta pentsatu genuelako Tiloniako arkitekto Oinustuak zalantzan jartzen ari zirela.
I asked a forester -- high-powered, paper-qualified expert -- I said, "What can you build in this place?" He had one look at the soil and said, "Forget it. No way. Not even worth it. No water, rocky soil." I was in a bit of a spot. And I said, "Okay, I'll go to the old man in village and say, 'What should I grow in this spot?'" He looked quietly at me and said, "You build this, you build this, you put this, and it'll work." This is what it looks like today.
Basogintzan aritzen den bati galdetu nion -- boteretsua, paper bidez kualifikatutako aditua -- Esan nion, "Zer eraiki dezakezu leku honetan?" Lurzoruari begiratu eta esan zuen, "Ahaztu. Ezin daiteke. Ez du merezi ere. Urik ez, lurzoru harritsua." Estualdi batean nengoen." Eta esan nuen, "Ondo, herrixkako gizon zaharrarengana joango naiz eta esan, 'Zer hazi beharko nuke leku honetan?'" Isilean begiratu zidan eta esan zuen. "Hau eraiki, hau eraiki, hau ipini, eta ondo irtengo da." Hau da gaur egun duen itxura.
Went to the roof, and all the women said, "Clear out. The men should clear out because we don't want to share this technology with the men. This is waterproofing the roof." (Laughter) It is a bit of jaggery, a bit of urens and a bit of other things I don't know. But it actually doesn't leak. Since 1986, it hasn't leaked. This technology, the women will not share with the men.
Teilatura joan nintzen, eta emakume guztiek esan zuten, "Alde hemendik. Gizonek alde egin behar dute ez dugulako teknologia hau gizonekin partekatu nahi. Hau teilatua iragazgaiztea da." (Barre-algarak) Jaggery pixka bat [Azukre beltz latza], urens pixka bat [landare bat] eta ez dakidan beste gauza batzuk. Baino benetan ez du isuririk. 1986tik ez du isuririk izan. Teknologia hau, emakumeek ez dute gizonekin partekatuko.
(Laughter)
(Barre-algarak)
It's the only college which is fully solar-electrified. All the power comes from the sun. 45 kilowatts of panels on the roof. And everything works off the sun for the next 25 years. So long as the sun shines, we'll have no problem with power. But the beauty is that is was installed by a priest, a Hindu priest, who's only done eight years of primary schooling -- never been to school, never been to college. He knows more about solar than anyone I know anywhere in the world guaranteed.
Unibertsitate bakarra da erabat eguzkiz-elektrifikatua. Energia guztia eguzkitik dator. 45 kilowatt sortzeko panelak teilatuan. Eta guztia ibiliko da eguzkiari esker hurrengo 25 urteetan. Eguzkiak argitzen duen bitartean, ez dugu energia arazorik izango. Baino politena da apaiz batek instalatu zuela, apaiz Hindu batek, soilik lehen hezkuntzako zortzi urte egin dituena -- sekula eskolan, sekula unibertsitatean izan gabea. Eguzki energiari buruz gehiago daki munduko beste lekuetan ezagutu dudan inork baino, zinez.
Food, if you come to the Barefoot College, is solar cooked. But the people who fabricated that solar cooker are women, illiterate women, who actually fabricate the most sophisticated solar cooker. It's a parabolic Scheffler solar cooker. Unfortunately, they're almost half German, they're so precise. (Laughter) You'll never find Indian women so precise. Absolutely to the last inch, they can make that cooker. And we have 60 meals twice a day of solar cooking.
Janaria, Oinustuen Eskolara etortzen bazara, eguzki-energiarekin prestatzen da. Baino eguzki-sukalde hori fabrikatu zuen jendea emakumeak dira, alfabetatu gabeko emakumeak, eguzki-sukalde sofistikatuena fabrikatzen dutenak. Scheffler eguzki-sukalde paraboliko bat da. Tamalez, ia-ia erdi Alemaniarrak dira, hain dira zehatzak. (Barre-algarak) Ez duzu inoiz aurkituko Indiako emakume hain zehatzik. Azken hazbeteraino, sukalde hori egin dezakete. Eta 60 otordu dauzkagu egunean bitan eguzkiarekin prestatuak.
We have a dentist -- she's a grandmother, illiterate, who's a dentist. She actually looks after the teeth of 7,000 children. Barefoot technology: this was 1986 -- no engineer, no architect thought of it -- but we are collecting rainwater from the roofs. Very little water is wasted. All the roofs are connected underground to a 400,000 liter tank, and no water is wasted. If we have four years of drought, we still have water on the campus, because we collect rainwater.
Haginlari bat daukagu -- amona bat da, alfabetatu gabea, haginlaria dena. 7.000 umeren hortzak zaintzen ditu. Oinustuen teknologia: hau 1986koa da -- ez injineruk, ez arkitektok ez zuen honi buruz pentsatu -- baino teilatuetatik euri-ura jasotzen ari gara. Oso ur gutxi galtzen da alferrik. Teilatu guztiak daude konektatuta lur azpian 400.000 litroko tanke batera, eta ez da urik alferrik galtzen. Lau urteko lehortea izaten badugu, ura izango genuke campusean, euri ura jasotzen dugulako.
60 percent of children don't go to school, because they have to look after animals -- sheep, goats -- domestic chores. So we thought of starting a school at night for the children. Because the night schools of Tilonia, over 75,000 children have gone through these night schools. Because it's for the convenience of the child; it's not for the convenience of the teacher. And what do we teach in these schools? Democracy, citizenship, how you should measure your land, what you should do if you're arrested, what you should do if your animal is sick. This is what we teach in the night schools. But all the schools are solar-lit.
Umeen ehuneko 60 ez da eskolara joaten, abereak zaindu behar dituztelako -- ardiak, ahuntzak -- etxeko zereginak. Horregatik pentsatu genuen umeentzako gau-eskola bat sortzea. Tiloniako gau-eskolei esker, 75.000 ume baino gehiago pasatu da gau-eskola hauetatik. Umeen erosotasunerako delako; ez da irakaslearen erosotasunerako. Eta zer erakusten dugu eskola hauetan? Demokrazia, herritartasuna, nola neurtu zure lur saila, zer egin behar zenuke atxilotzen bazaituzte, zer egin behar zenuke zure aberea gaixo badago. Hau da gau-eskoletan erakusten duguna. Baino eskola guztiak eguzki-energiarekin argitzen dira.
Every five years we have an election. Between six to 14 year-old children participate in a democratic process, and they elect a prime minister. The prime minister is 12 years old. She looks after 20 goats in the morning, but she's prime minister in the evening. She has a cabinet, a minister of education, a minister for energy, a minister for health. And they actually monitor and supervise 150 schools for 7,000 children. She got the World's Children's Prize five years ago, and she went to Sweden. First time ever going out of her village. Never seen Sweden. Wasn't dazzled at all by what was happening. And the Queen of Sweden, who's there, turned to me and said, "Can you ask this child where she got her confidence from? She's only 12 years old, and she's not dazzled by anything." And the girl, who's on her left, turned to me and looked at the queen straight in the eye and said, "Please tell her I'm the prime minister."
Bost urtero hauteskunde bat daukagu. Sei eta 14 urte bitarteko umeek prozesu demokratiko batean parte hartzen dute, eta lehen ministro bat hautatzen dute. Lehen ministroak 12 urte ditu. Goizez 20 ahuntz zaintzen ditu, baino lehen ministroa da arratsaldez. Kabinete bat dauka, hezkuntza ministro bat, energia ministro bat, osasun ministro bat. Eta beraiek zaindu eta ikuskatzen dituzte 150 eskola eta 7.000 ume. Munduko Umeen Saria jaso zuen duela bost urte, eta Suediara joan zen. Bere herrixkatik irteten zen lehen aldia. Suedia inoiz ikusi gabe. Gertatzen ari zenarekin ez zegoen batere liluratuta. Eta Suediako Erregina, hor dago, nigana biratu eta esan zidan, "Galdetu diezaiokezu ume honi nondik eskuratu duen konfiantza? 12 urte besterik ez du, eta ez du ezerk liluratu." Eta neskatoa, bere ezkerrean dago, nigana biratu eta erreginari zuzen begiratu zion begietara eta esan zuen, "Mesedez esaiozu lehen ministroa naizela."
(Laughter)
(Barre-algarak)
(Applause)
(Txaloak)
Where the percentage of illiteracy is very high, we use puppetry. Puppets is the way we communicate. You have Jokhim Chacha who is 300 years old. He is my psychoanalyst. He is my teacher. He's my doctor. He's my lawyer. He's my donor. He actually raises money, solves my disputes. He solves my problems in the village. If there's tension in the village, if attendance at the schools goes down and there's a friction between the teacher and the parent, the puppet calls the teacher and the parent in front of the whole village and says, "Shake hands. The attendance must not drop." These puppets are made out of recycled World Bank reports.
Alfabetatze gabeziaren ehunekoa oso handia den tokietan, txotxongiloak erabiltzen ditugu. Txotxongiloak dira gure komunikatzeko era. Hau Jokhim Chacha duzue 300 urte dituena. Neure psikoanalista da. Neure irakaslea da. Neure sendagilea da. Neure abokatua da. Neure emailea da. Diru kopurua handitzen du, neure liskarrak konpontzen ditu. Herrixkan ditudan arazoak konpontzen ditu. Herrixkan tirabira badago, eskolara joateak behera egiten badu eta irakasle eta gurasoaren artean desadostasuna badago, txotxongiloak irakaslea eta gurasoa deitzen ditu herri osoaren aurrera eta esaten du, "Eman bostekoa. Ez zaio eskolara joateari utzi behar." Txotxongilo hauek Munduko Bankuaren txosten birziklatuekin eginak daude.
(Laughter)
(Barre-algarak)
(Applause)
(Txaloak)
So this decentralized, demystified approach of solar-electrifying villages, we've covered all over India from Ladakh up to Bhutan -- all solar-electrified villages by people who have been trained. And we went to Ladakh, and we asked this woman -- this, at minus 40, you have to come out of the roof, because there's no place, it was all snowed up on both sides -- and we asked this woman, "What was the benefit you had from solar electricity?" And she thought for a minute and said, "It's the first time I can see my husband's face in winter."
Herrixkak eguzkiz-elektrifikatzeko zentralizatu gabeko, desmitifikatutako hurbilketa honekin, India osoa estali dugu Ladakh-etik Bhutan-eraino -- herrixka guztiak eguzkiz-elektrifikatuta trebatua izan den jendeak egina. Eta Ladakh-era joan ginen, eta emakume honi galdetu genion -- hau, 40 gradu zero azpitik, teilatupetik irten behar duzu, ez dagoelako lekurik, elurtuta zegoen bi aldeetan -- eta emakume honi galdetu genion, "Zein da eguzkiaren elektrizitatetik jaso duzun onura?" Eta minutu batez pentsatu eta esan zuen, "Lehen aldia da neguan neure senarraren aurpegia ikusi dezakedana."
(Laughter)
(Barre-algarak)
Went to Afghanistan. One lesson we learned in India was men are untrainable. (Laughter) Men are restless, men are ambitious, men are compulsively mobile, and they all want a certificate. (Laughter) All across the globe, you have this tendency of men wanting a certificate. Why? Because they want to leave the village and go to a city, looking for a job. So we came up with a great solution: train grandmothers. What's the best way of communicating in the world today? Television? No. Telegraph? No. Telephone? No. Tell a woman.
Afganistanera joan nintzen. Indian ikasi genuen irakaspen bat da gizonak trebatzea ezinezkoa dela. (Barre-algarak) Gizonak geldigorrak dira, handinahiak, jokabide konpultsiboa dute, eta guztiek nahi dute ziurtagiri bat. (Barre-algarak) Mundu osoan zehar, joera hau daukazu gizonek ziurtagiria nahi izatearena. Zergatik? Herrixka utzi nahi dutelako hirira joateko, lanpostu bila. Horrela iritsi ginen konponbide bikain batera: amonak trebatu. Zein da komunikatzeko modurik onena gaur egun munduan? Telebista? Ez. Telegrafoa? Ez. Telefonoa? Ez. Esan emakume bati.
(Laughter)
(Barre-algarak)
(Applause)
(Txaloak)
So we went to Afghanistan for the first time, and we picked three women and said, "We want to take them to India." They said, "Impossible. They don't even go out of their rooms, and you want to take them to India." I said, "I'll make a concession. I'll take the husbands along as well." So I took the husbands along. Of course, the women were much more intelligent than the men. In six months, how do we train these women? Sign language. You don't choose the written word. You don't choose the spoken word. You use sign language. And in six months they can become solar engineers. They go back and solar-electrify their own village.
Horrela, Afganistanera joan ginen lehengoz, eta hiru emakume aukeratu genituen eta esan genien, "Indiara eraman nahi ditugu." Esan zuten, "Ezinezkoa. Ez dira beraien geletatik ere kanpora joaten, eta Indiara eraman nahi dituzu." Esan nien, "Kontzesio bat egingo dut. Senarrak ere eramango ditut." Horrela, senarrak ere eraman nituen. Emakumeak gizonak baino askoz azkarragoak ziren, noski. Sei hilabetetan, nola trebatzen ditugu emakume hauek? Zeinuen hizkuntza. Ez duzu idatzitako hitza aukeratzen. Ez duzu mintzatutako hitza aukeratzen. Zeinuen hizkuntza erabiltzen duzu. Eta sei hilabetetan eguzki injineru bilakatu daitezke. Itzuli egiten dira eta beraien herrixka eguzkiz-elektrifikatzen dute.
This woman went back and solar-electrified the first village, set up a workshop -- the first village ever to be solar-electrified in Afghanistan [was] by the three women. This woman is an extraordinary grandmother. 55 years old, and she's solar-electrified 200 houses for me in Afghanistan. And they haven't collapsed. She actually went and spoke to an engineering department in Afghanistan and told the head of the department the difference between AC and DC. He didn't know. Those three women have trained 27 more women and solar-electrified 100 villages in Afghanistan.
Emakume hau itzuli zen eta lehen herrixka eguzkiz-elektrifikatu zuen, lantegi bat antolatu zuen -- Afganistanen eguzkiz-elektrifikatutako lehen herrixka hiru emakumek egin zuten. Emakume hau ezohiko amona bat da. 55 urte ditu, eta neuretzako 200 etxebizitza eguzkiz-elektrifikatu ditu Afganistanen. Eta ez dira behera erori. Emakume hau Afganistango injinerutza departamentu batera joan eta hitz egin zuen eta departamentu buruari esan zion AC eta DC arteko ezberdintasuna. Berak (gizonak) ez zekien. Hiru emakume horiek beste 27 emakume trebatu dituzte eta 100 herrixka eguzkiz-elektrifikatu dituzte Afganistanen.
We went to Africa, and we did the same thing. All these women sitting at one table from eight, nine countries, all chatting to each other, not understanding a word, because they're all speaking a different language. But their body language is great. They're speaking to each other and actually becoming solar engineers. I went to Sierra Leone, and there was this minister driving down in the dead of night -- comes across this village. Comes back, goes into the village, says, "Well what's the story?" They said, "These two grandmothers ... " "Grandmothers?" The minister couldn't believe what was happening. "Where did they go?" "Went to India and back." Went straight to the president. He said, "Do you know there's a solar-electrified village in Sierra Leone?" He said, "No." Half the cabinet went to see the grandmothers the next day. "What's the story." So he summoned me and said, "Can you train me 150 grandmothers?" I said, "I can't, Mr. President. But they will. The grandmothers will." So he built me the first Barefoot training center in Sierra Leone. And 150 grandmothers have been trained in Sierra Leone.
Afrikara joan ginen, eta gauza bera egin genuen. Emakume guzti hauek mahai batean eserita, zortzi, bederatzi herrialdetakoak, guztiak elkarri hitz egiten, hitz bakarra ulertu gabe, guztiek hizkuntza ezberdina hitz egiten dutelako. Baino beraien gorputz hizkuntza bikaina da. Elkarri hitz egiten ari dira eta eguzki injineruak bihurtzen. Sierra Leonara joan nintzen, eta ministro hau ari zen gidatzen gauaren erdian -- herrixka zeharkatzen du. Atzera itzuli, herrixkara joan eta esaten du, "Bueno zein da istorioa?" Esan zuten, "Bi amona hauek... " "Amonak?" Ministroak ezin zuen sinistu gertatzen ari zena. "Nora joan ziren?" "Indiara joan eta itzuli ziren." Presidentearengana joan zen zuzenean. Esan zion, "Badakizu eguzkiz-elektrifikatutako herrixka bat dagoela Sierra Leonan? Esan zuen, "Ez." Kabinete erdia joan zen hurrengo egunean amonak ikustera. "Zein da istorioa." Deia luzatu zidan eta esan zuen, "Trebatuko dizkidazu 150 amona?" Esan nion, "Ezin dut, Presidente Jauna. Baino beraiek egingo dute. Amonek egingo dute." Hala eraiki zidan lehenengo Oinustuak trebatzeko gunea Sierra Leonan. Eta 150 amona trebatu dituzte Sierra Leonan.
Gambia: we went to select a grandmother in Gambia. Went to this village. I knew which woman I would like to take. The community got together and said, "Take these two women." I said, "No, I want to take this woman." They said, "Why? She doesn't know the language. You don't know her." I said, "I like the body language. I like the way she speaks." "Difficult husband; not possible." Called the husband, the husband came, swaggering, politician, mobile in his hand. "Not possible." "Why not?" "The woman, look how beautiful she is." I said, "Yeah, she is very beautiful." "What happens if she runs off with an Indian man?" That was his biggest fear. I said, "She'll be happy. She'll ring you up on the mobile." She went like a grandmother and came back like a tiger. She walked out of the plane and spoke to the whole press as if she was a veteran. She handled the national press, and she was a star. And when I went back six months later, I said, "Where's your husband?" "Oh, somewhere. It doesn't matter." (Laughter) Success story.
Gambia: Gambian amona bat aukeratzera joan ginen. Herrixka honetara joan ginen. Banekien ze emakume eraman nahi nukeen. Komunitatea elkartu zen eta esan zuten, "Eraman bi emakume hauek." Esan nien, "Ez, emakume hau eraman nahi dut." Esan zuten, "Zergatik? Berak ez daki hizkuntza. Ez duzu ezagutzen." Esan nien, "Gorputz hizkuntza gustatzen zait. Gustuko dut hitz egiteko duen modua." "Senar zaila; ez da posible." Senarra deitu nuen, senarra etorri zen, hesola baino tenteago, politikaria, mugikorra eskuan. "Ezinezkoa." "Zergatik ez?" "Emakumea, begiratu zein ederra den." Esan nion, "Bai, oso ederra da." "Zer gertatzen da Indiako gizon batekin alde egiten badu?" Hori zen bere beldur handiena. Esan nion, "Pozik egongo da. Mugikorrera hots egingo dizu." Amona bat bezala alde egin zuen eta tigrea bezala itzuli zen. Hegazkinetik irten zen eta prentsari hitz egin zion eskarmentu handia balu bezala. Prentsa nazionala gobernatu zuen, eta izarra izan zen. Eta sei hilabete beranduago itzuli nintzenean, esan nuen, "Non dago zure senarra?" "O, nonbaiten. Ez du axola." (Barre-algarak) Istorio arrakastatsua.
(Laughter)
(Barre-algarak)
(Applause)
(Txaloak)
I'll just wind up by saying that I think you don't have to look for solutions outside. Look for solutions within. And listen to people. They have the solutions in front of you. They're all over the world. Don't even worry. Don't listen to the World Bank, listen to the people on the ground. They have all the solutions in the world.
Amaituko dut esanez uste dudala konponbideak ez direla kanpoan bilatu behar. Bilatu konponbideak barrenean. Eta entzun jendeari. Beraiek konponbideak dauzkate zure aurrean. Mundu osoan zehar daude. Ez arduratu. Ez entzun Munduko Bankuari, entzun lekuko jendeari. Munduko konponbide guztiak dauzkate.
I'll end with a quotation by Mahatma Gandhi. "First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, and then you win."
Mahatma Gandhi-ren aipu batekin bukatuko dut. "Lehenengo ez dizute jaramonik egiten, gero barre egiten dizute, ondoren zure aurka borrokatzen dira, eta orduan irabazi duzu."
Thank you.
Eskerrik asko.
(Applause)
(Txaloak)