A woman reflects on her many activities during a lifetime spent in Auroville, illustrating the values and process of building a conscious society, and showing how one can serve freely while contributing through a variety of roles and positions.
Written in June, 2025
I first came to India in February 1996, on my honeymoon with my high school friend Marc—and I fell in love with the place. He had already spent a year here and clearly wanted to return, but he made sure I could choose for myself.
The first time I read the Auroville Charter, in 1991, it touched my soul. I felt I could leave behind my comfortable life and be part of building a more conscious society, based on the values we believed in.
So in 1997, we left Barcelona—and two coffee shops behind—and moved to Auroville. One of the first things that amazed me was that the Government of India allowed such an experiment to exist. But it had already been going on for 25 years, with people joining and contributing, grants coming in—it felt like a blank canvas where anything was possible, as long as it served the betterment of Auroville.
My first job was at the old Uphaar restaurant in Auromodele (now Nowana). We then moved on to work at the Solar Kitchen. With our café experience from Barcelona, we were soon asked to start a community café on the Solar Kitchen terrace—this became India’s first internet café (still running today).
When I became pregnant, I got involved in Auroville’s education system. The year 2000 saw a baby boom, and we needed a new kindergarten—so a group of parents started Nandanam (still running). Later, I helped create a freer-progress school, TLC, which ran until 2024 when it was shut down by SAIIER.
I was part of the School Board for ten years. I also taught Spanish at Transition, Future School, and Last School—most of the time without maintenance. We lived simply and didn’t need much.
I spent four years in the Entry Service because I was passionate about sharing my experience of joining Auroville and wanted to help open doors for others. I left in 2021.
I’ve served as executive of various units three or four times but always stepped down willingly—I never felt attached to what I helped create.
Meanwhile, in 2008, Marc and I started working with coffee as roasters and consultants. That seed grew into the beautiful café we have today, along with the CLC, a center for teaching all things coffee.
The most important thing was always to work for the larger community. Nothing belongs to me. When I explain this outside Auroville, people assume I’m either a hippie, wealthy, or doing this as sewa [service].
But for us, the idea that “I am Auroville, and Auroville is me” was deeply ingrained. I never felt a sense of “other” based on ethnicity or language—we were all in this together.
Then came Auroville’s 50th birthday, and I guess that’s when things started to shift. We arrived at the situation we are in today.
I’m still in awe of “the city the Earth needs.” But it’s hard to understand how some things have been done, especially toward the pioneers—for example, cutting the silver fund.
I thought I would grow old in Auroville and contribute to the project until the end of my days.
But something inside me has shifted. There is no assurance that anyone will care for us as we age. My visa could be revoked at any moment if I speak up—if “the other” sees me as disgruntled, illegal, or worse.
Still, I hold precious the 27 golden years I’ve lived here. My children were born and raised in an incredible experiment. We formed a family of many languages, colors, and ethnicities.
And maybe—just maybe—there is an opportunity to move forward and step out of this oppressive grip that tries to control what we do and say.
But another part of me, the young rebel who brought me here in the first place, says: wait, let it settle, and stand up for the truth.
By Matilde
June 2025