Being here in Bissamcuttack has not been quite what I expected (not quite sure what that was) but I've certainly gained a lot from the experience. Some of this has been the experience of Indian police, but not all. I have had the chance to spend time in a Dongria village too so some of what I wanted to do has been done but staying in a village and really getting to see and know people and their way of life just isn't possible for outsiders here at the moment. It's hard to know how much of this is genuine concern about Maoists, how much is that too many outsiders have been here doing research and asking questions about the mining companies and the effects on the people and how much is just Indian bureaucracy. A ripe old cocktail of it all I think.
Today's been a beautiful day, spent with the brother in law of a friend here. His family are so warm and friendly, lots of children around the house too - I had dinner there last night. Sometimes language isn't so important I'm starting to realise, so much is non verbal, a smile does a lot. I think I've spent a bit too much time worrying about language and translations and forgotten to enjoy myself at times. Today I sat back and enjoyed the sights of Niyamgiri. It's so beautiful out here, every photo I take just doesn't capture it.
After a breakfast of iddli (soft rice flour patties) with two different sauces - yum - with the usual questions and stares from people here, we headed to a village where people make jewellery from bronze and other metals. It's a simple process, using a fire in the sand in the middle of the village, but I bought some beautiful stuff from them. Within 10 minutes, a mini market had been set up around my chair, and I think I caused some tensions by buying more from some than others but as usual I had little idea of what was going on so just played stupid tourist and handed out a few apologetic rupees.
Next we went to my friend's 'aunty's' house and had some tea. She was the most amazing warm and vibrant person. We couldnt talk eachother's languages but we communicated anyhow. She gave me a red bindi, which usually signifies marriage although is also fashion, and her friend painted my toes red. Aunty is also unmarried and she's a farmer. Brilliant! There are many female farmers here, as seen at a meeting I went to with Living Farms on Tuesday where it was about half and half men and women. Women around here are strong and inspiring, and have amazing posture due to all the pots and baskets full of vegetables, bricks, and whatever else they carry on their heads, making them look even more strong and graceful.
After some time spent in Aunty's house we went back to the family home for some lunch and then out again to another village. Here we met a medicine man (disari) and talked for a while, saw the village. I told him about my stomach problems (wheaty business) and he's given me some root which I should grind up and put in water to drink. Will keep you posted on that one.
Now I'm back in Bissamcuttack. When I'm here I feel pretty paranoid as feel police are on my case, I get regular phone calls, and today apparently they came here and to my friend's house to ask where I was. I think they're just checking up on me, nothing too sinister, but it's not great having to deal with these guys each day... Makes me feel like I should just leave, which is exactly the reaction they're after I guess. I knew it would be hard here though, I did get some warnings, so whatever I've managed to do here I should be happy with. A lot of what I write when I get home will be about these access problems and the reasons behind it all.
Being out and about today and enjoying afternoon sun and the views of the mountains it's easy to forget how poor people are that live here. Spending time in the villages you do see poverty but it's different to poverty in the city, which is where it's at its ugliest. Ho hum.
Today's been a beautiful day, spent with the brother in law of a friend here. His family are so warm and friendly, lots of children around the house too - I had dinner there last night. Sometimes language isn't so important I'm starting to realise, so much is non verbal, a smile does a lot. I think I've spent a bit too much time worrying about language and translations and forgotten to enjoy myself at times. Today I sat back and enjoyed the sights of Niyamgiri. It's so beautiful out here, every photo I take just doesn't capture it.
After a breakfast of iddli (soft rice flour patties) with two different sauces - yum - with the usual questions and stares from people here, we headed to a village where people make jewellery from bronze and other metals. It's a simple process, using a fire in the sand in the middle of the village, but I bought some beautiful stuff from them. Within 10 minutes, a mini market had been set up around my chair, and I think I caused some tensions by buying more from some than others but as usual I had little idea of what was going on so just played stupid tourist and handed out a few apologetic rupees.
Next we went to my friend's 'aunty's' house and had some tea. She was the most amazing warm and vibrant person. We couldnt talk eachother's languages but we communicated anyhow. She gave me a red bindi, which usually signifies marriage although is also fashion, and her friend painted my toes red. Aunty is also unmarried and she's a farmer. Brilliant! There are many female farmers here, as seen at a meeting I went to with Living Farms on Tuesday where it was about half and half men and women. Women around here are strong and inspiring, and have amazing posture due to all the pots and baskets full of vegetables, bricks, and whatever else they carry on their heads, making them look even more strong and graceful.
After some time spent in Aunty's house we went back to the family home for some lunch and then out again to another village. Here we met a medicine man (disari) and talked for a while, saw the village. I told him about my stomach problems (wheaty business) and he's given me some root which I should grind up and put in water to drink. Will keep you posted on that one.
Now I'm back in Bissamcuttack. When I'm here I feel pretty paranoid as feel police are on my case, I get regular phone calls, and today apparently they came here and to my friend's house to ask where I was. I think they're just checking up on me, nothing too sinister, but it's not great having to deal with these guys each day... Makes me feel like I should just leave, which is exactly the reaction they're after I guess. I knew it would be hard here though, I did get some warnings, so whatever I've managed to do here I should be happy with. A lot of what I write when I get home will be about these access problems and the reasons behind it all.
Being out and about today and enjoying afternoon sun and the views of the mountains it's easy to forget how poor people are that live here. Spending time in the villages you do see poverty but it's different to poverty in the city, which is where it's at its ugliest. Ho hum.
Dear Amy
ReplyDeleteAlthough I know that now you do not have a full and open access to Dongria Kond life, what you write is very interesting. Your writing will surely highlight some of the difficulties you faced and how did you still manage to get a profile of Dongria Kond life. Thanks for this interesting narrative. Best wishes to you and to Dan,