Post 3: Dahod and Growing Globalization

If India were to have a "Wild West," it would be Dahod.  A mishmash of concrete and ornately carved stone buildings loom over the dusty streets, where vendors rub shoulders with farmers, wives, and businessmen.  Buffalo, cattle, and goats wander through intersections and three-wheeled taxis swerve casually around them.  Instead of horses, there are motor cycles--dozens of them on every street--and instead of saloons, bodegas.  On the outskirts of town, stone gives way to sheet metal and tarpaulin huts.

Motorists maneuver the streets outside a Dahod bicycle shop (photo courtesy of Paula Breslin).

What Ohioans such as myself will notice immediately is the disorder and chaos in comparison to America's towns.  Street lights and signs (what little there are) seem to have been abandoned long ago in favor of throwing caution to the wind.  That is not to say automobile accidents are common; they are actually quite a bit rarer than someone used to well-ordered roadways would expect.  Instead, my experience was that riding in a car was remarkably similar to shuffling through a crowd on foot.  Everyone does their best to move in their own direction as efficiently as possible without hitting anyone else and most of the time this method works very well.

Above the roads, plastered buildings and rising on uncertain poles are countless signs.  They advertise everything from pharmaceuticals to menswear in a dizzying cacophony of color.  To me, this was instantly recognizable as analogous in look and feel to American advertisements.  Much of the writing was even in English, due to Great Britain's colonial rule over India that ended in 1947.  Regardless of its origin, the presence of very Westernized consumer advertising was somewhat of a mixed bag in my opinion.  On the one hand, economic growth of a region to the point where disposable income is available signals stability and prosperity.  It also gives way to more opportunities for employment and raises the standard living.  However, it certainly can be argued that these economic inroads might homogenize the culture Gujarat, just like they have for many other locales they have entered.

Plastic wrappers intermingle with biodegradable refuse in the courtyard of a villa.

A satellite television set owned by the Rathods in the hamlet, Lilya Amba (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

My thoughts switch to the mindset of the farming families we met in the countryside around Dahod.  They have benefited immensely from what one might call "Western" pharmaceuticals, as well as donations to the Sadguru Foundation from the John Deere Corporation.  Items like European-style clothing and television are slowly replacing their traditional counterparts.  However, "replacing" may not be the correct word.  Dahod has its own television station and the clothing is hardly made in Europe.  Furthermore, Sadguru is a Gujarat-based organization and its technology is designed to work in synergy with the lives tribal farmers already lead.  Instead of "Westernizing," it might be more apt to say that rural Gujarat is "Globalizing."  The region is being exposed to new ideas that may subvert old ways, while others are adapted by its people for a better future.

Sadguru staff and Rathod family members pose for a picture outside of a villa in the hamlet of Sindri (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

This leads me to the final point I wish to weigh in on, that of frugality versus poverty.  The rural families we visited rank among the least wealthy in the state, having little access until recently even to safe drinking water.  Certainly by American measures, they would be considered impoverished.  However, the acquisition of material wealth seemed meaningless to those we talked to unless it made their lives better.  On our second and third days interviewing farmers and their families, we asked them what they would like everyone to know and what they hoped we learned by talking with them.  Their answers were never related to possessions or wealth, but were instead focused on how their lives were improved by adopting Sadguru's technologies and that they hoped we would share it with others.  It would be wrong of me to say "everyone in Gujarat" or "all rural farmers" are one way or another.  That would be a gross oversimplification that flies in the face of the individuality that makes us human.  But, the cultural norms for the farmers we encountered were focused around pragmatism, rather than wealth because in a land as dry and unforgiving as the edges of the Thar Desert, wealth has little tangible value.

Sunset in the fields outside Sadguru's Chosala campus.

I hope this blog has helped to illustrate the cultural gestalt of rural Gujarat, as perceived through a native Ohioan such as myself.  I confess to have very little formal knowledge of the region from a sociological perspective, so these writings will only scratch the surface of the rich cultural heritage of this beautiful state and its amazing peoples.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the gracious Sadguru Foundation staff and the Rathod family for welcoming us into their lives during our stay.  It was truly a life-changing experience and if there is thing I am more certain of than how much I learned, it is how much I have not even begun to learn.

Post 2: On Rural Living

Every morning, I woke up to the oddly feline yowl of peacocks crowing and pigeons rustling in the nest they built on my AC unit. After checking the toilet for geckos, which seemed to really like the bowl for some reason, I would begin my morning routine and head to the cafeteria to eat.  We were served traditional Gujarati dishes for breakfast, lunch and dinner, as well as the ever-popular masala tea.  Just as one's environment is a crucial building block for culture, so too are daily activities and habits, dining included.

Cooking implements found in a typical rural Gujarati
household (photo courtesy of Makenzie Vail).

Meals are almost always vegetarian.  This is an outgrowth of the large Muslim population found in the region that rejects all forms of meat.  The arid climate makes growth of leafy vegetables difficult, so most food is based on grain, beans, root vegetables, and milk.  The meals that we were served generally included curries and rice, along with wheat or rice bread that would be used as an edible utensil to scoop up a mixture of each.  Fruits (bananas and melons) and sweet dumplings were common deserts.

It makes perfect sense that a culture would create foods based on what was at hand, but this alone does not account for the flavor.  As most Westerners might agree, Indian and other Asian nations' foods have long been admired for the uniquely delicious tastes they harbor.  In an effort to better understand the cultural significance of the spices and herbs used to create our dishes' complex flavors, I did a bit of background research on them.  As it turns out, Northern Indian (including Gujarati) chefs incorporate an entirely different philosophy in creating dishes from their Western counterparts.  Whereas Western culture has always dictated a mixing of ingredients that have similar chemical signatures, Indian culture has fostered  the mixing of opposing tastes.  This trend has been found throughout traditional Indian cooking, making it very distinct from the flavors we tend to be exposed to in Ohio.  If you are interested in learning more about the differences in Western versus Eastern cuisine and how culture influenced it, NPR has a terrific article that you can access here.

A woman prepares tea on a biogas-powered stove (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

To our experience, household meals are generally prepared by the females, although males make up the majority of hired cooks and kitchen staff.  This likely is the result of cultural gender roles that place family care in the hands of women, while men work most paying jobs.  It was certainly the case for the farming families we spoke to, the males of which would go the city for work in the off-season while women would stay home and care for the children.  While there were many women who we met that did hold positions of power and respect, notably as senior members of Sadguru and hospital staff as well as runners of water and milk cooperatives, much of the culture still seemed very stratified by gender.

Nehaben (left), Dakshaben (center), and Saralaben Rathod (right) pose for a picture with their new outhouse.  The adult women wear traditional female garb, while girls more often wear Western-inspired clothing (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Premsing Rathod (left) wearing a Western-style shirt and Babubhai Rathod (right) wearing a traditional kurta (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Another notable dichotomy in rural gender norms was the clothing style permitted for men and women.  The males seemed to wear both kurtas and shirts and pants styled after Western designs.  Women, however, wore sarees and shawls over their hair almost without exception.  Even in Dahod, which has been influenced by Western culture to a degree in music, advertising, and products, women still wore much more traditional garments than their male counterparts.  Children seemed to wear both traditional and Western clothing in equal measure.

A courtyard between houses in the hamlet of Lilya Amba (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Another important aspect of rural Gujarati culture is living structure, from village level to the individual household.  As farming communities, a Gujarati village is spread out over many miles of land.  The average farmer only owns a couple of acres, though, so cultivated "rural" land in Gujarat still has a high population density compared to its counterpart in America.  Groupings of houses within the general vicinity of one another are designated as "hamlets."  Furthermore, farmers will often group individual houses together with those of close relatives in villas or compounds, which share central courtyards and resources.  An extended family, such as the Rathod family, may be spread out over an entire village and beyond.

Babubhai Rathod, a spiritual leader for his family (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Families are arranged around patriarchal elders, some of whom acted as spiritual leaders for the family.  This is the case for Babubhai Rathod, whom we briefly spoke to about the use of toilets in his hamlet, named Sindri.  The faiths held by most of the rural farmers we spoke to were various sects of Islam, although census information indicates most people living in Gujarat are Hindu.  This is very different from the Catholicism and various sects of Protestantism found in Ohio, where pastors and ministers choose to be spiritual leaders for all who follow their specific faith.  In many ways, the structuring of living space and religion along family lines in Gujarat illustrates an emphasis on blood ties that is not as central in Ohio's culture.

Members of the Rathod family make tea while we learn about their biogas-fueled stoves (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

The taking of tea is another cultural phenomenon which bears great significance in Gujarat.  Whenever we visited a household, tea (masala, with buffalo milk and sugar) was always offered by our hosts.  When taken, it was customary for the family to join us in drinking.  Although offering refreshments to guests is considered normal in Ohio's culture, Gujarat's (and many other regions') emphasis on tea is particularly interesting.  Of course, in this matter, America seems to be the outlier as most cultures with European and Asian influence emphasize consumption of tea more than we do!  Perhaps the most peculiar part about it from the perspective of someone as unfamiliar with the culture as myself is its ubiquity.  Tea-drinking was pretty much a given course of action, both when receiving guests and in the afternoon.  Of course, sharing of meals and refreshments with guests across all cultures is considered common courtesy and a means of establishing finding common ground, so  having a drink with one's guests makes perfect sense.

Sadguru employees Ragesh Meht (front left) and B. C. Manna (front right) explain the workings of a ground water pump while members of the Rathod family watch (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Aside from tea, most rural families owned very little that might be considered "luxury goods" in Ohio.  For that matter, things that would even be considered basic necessities here, like clean water, proper sanitation, and heating were difficult to afford.  Fortunately, Sadguru and government programs have been able to help families like the Rathods install them, but there certainly is not a focus on excessive consumption, like we see in America (I will weigh in further on this next time).

Ramsing Rathod's daughter (21, left) was just married in a three day celebration (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

A parade of wedding celebrants dances behind a truck
rigged with speakers (photo courtesy of Makenzie Vail).

What was emphasized, however, were celebrations.  Weddings in particular were a tremendous occasion complete with thunderously loud amplified music, parades, and multi-day parties.  Farming families often spent more than 150,000 rupees (about 2,400 U.S. dollars) on them--a very large sum of money.  Out visit happened to align with the "wedding season," which I am told lasts for around a month in springtime, so the hills echoed with parties most every night.  Couples in America may opt for extravagant weddings, but they have absolutely nothing on Gujarat's.

Finally, we were given the honor of being featured guests at the graduation ceremony for first year nursing students at the S. R. Kadakia School of Nursing in Dahod.  The ceremony was similar to many American graduation events, complete with speeches from instructors, accolades for top students, and thank-yous for those who supported the students.  What followed took me by surprise: dance performances by all of the nursing students wearing traditional Gujarati clothing.  We are told that all the dances they performed were folk dances common to the region, even though the accompanying music was a mixture of traditional and pop.  Perhaps what struck me most of all was that the women we spoke to about dancing and singing said no one ever engages in it outside of weddings and festivals.  Clearly, these graduations merited a special exception for the students!  While the "ceremony" section seemed very similar to American graduation ceremonies, the position of dancing as a formal affair reserved for important events is entirely foreign to us.  I am told that this view of dancing is a product of the region's theological background, where dancing traditionally accompanies religious events.

First year nursing students are presented with ceremonial candles by instructors and acknowledged for their work (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Nursing students dancing to a mixture of Gujarati folk music and modern pop while wearing traditional garments.

This just about wraps up post 2 of this cultural blog.  In my next installment, I will discuss the town of Dahod, Westernization, and other things.

Post 1: Farming Culture and the Landscape

Five weeks have passed since the departure from Ahmadabad that signaled our trip's closure on March 22nd, 2015.  In the previous week and a half, we had sped through Delhi, Agra, and Vodabad on our way to the town of Dahod, in eastern Gujarat.  There, we linked up with the N. M. Sadguru Water and Development Foundation (website found here) and learned about the vital role this organization plays in improving the well-beings of remote, tribal peoples.  Sadguru provides assistance in water acquisition, floriculture, sanitation, and so much more to some of the least wealthy communities in the state.

The Sadguru Foundation's campus in Chosala, outside of Dahod

Through our reporting, we were invited to the homes of many rural farmers and were graciously given a window through which to look into their lives.  We spoke to people who lived by plowing fields with oxen.  We took tea with them and sat with their families in chairs.  For a week, we were immersed in the culture of agrarian Gujarat, which was an experience unlike anything else for me.  Now that the dust has settled and all that connects me to our journey are photographs, pages of notes, and projects, it seems an apt time to reflect on the differences in culture between our world and theirs.  Or perhaps, rather, to focus on the culture of rural Gujarat as experienced through my own eyes.

Farmland outside of Dahod (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

One of the most important factors in shaping a cultural identity is the landscape from which it springs.  The Thar Desert snakes its way up western India and into Pakistan, making its course directly through Gujarat.  Rain falls often during springtime, but the hot summers and arid winters offer little moisture.  Water is scarce outside of Gujarat's few rivers and away from the coastline, forcing many inhabitants to rely heavily on groundwater.  Against the odds, agriculture is one of the state's largest employers.  This industry has not come to the region easily.  Before groundwater wells were able to be installed cheaply, this meant family members (primarily women) would be responsible for walking several kilometers to the nearest water source multiple times a day to provide for their livestock.  

Rural farming women have just recently gotten access to drinking water at their homesteads (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

It is hard to overstate just how different farming in Gujarat is from our own industrial methods.  There is still grain production and livestock raising, but all of it is done by hand, an acre plot at a time, by individual families who then sell the product themselves.  Families exist crop-to-crop, much like farmers in America, but with no insurance safety net to buffer against poor harvests.

A small crop of wheat growing between two plots of corn near Dahod.

Though there is some use of industrial equipment such as tractors, these machines are beyond the price range of many farmers in Gujarat.  Instead, most tilling, plowing, and harvesting is done either by hand or, more commonly, with assistance of animals.  Buffalo are the main beasts of burden used around the farm and are linked inextricably to rural culture.  In addition to plowing their fields, buffalo provide the farmers with fresh milk and copious quantities of dung, which are used for cooking fuel, building material, and fertilizer.  Farming would not be possible in Gujarat without them and a family's socioeconomic can be interpreted from the number it possesses.

Buffalo feed at the trough while a calf lounges in the morning sun.  It is customary for families to house their cattle next to their villas, so farmyards are often bustling with animals (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

The uncertain and laborious nature of the farming communities' existence combined with their dependence on their animals and the land was noticeable in the mindsets of the people we met.  An extended family my particular team spent much time with, the Rathod family, made this particularly clear through their discussions with us.  They spoke of they ways in which their lives had been made worse by harmful things they had done to their land and how the land had retaliated.  The clear-cutting of trees, for example, kept the soil from holding water and in turn, their crops had gone thirsty.  When they would relieve themselves out in the open on their property, they were more likely to contract fecal-borne illnesses.  A grandfather we spoke with by the name of Premsingbhai Rathod echoed a common sentiment among the farmers, "More people should know about good sanitation and living in a clean environment."  I had never expected to hear this outside of America, much less from someone who probably had little knowledge of the Western "environmental movements."

A cow stands in the shade beside a pile of drying dung cakes, which will be used either for cooking fuel or building material (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

Although I was surprised at the time, I see now how much sense this makes.  While we may be isolated from our actions towards the environment by layers of urban and societal insulation, everything the Rathod family does to impact their environment has very immediate and noticeable consequences to them.  Our food may come from someone's land several states away, having stopped first at a processing plant and then at a grocer, but for Gujarat's farmers, you reap what you sow, literally.  If a tribal farmer mismanages his wheat and feed crops, then not only does he lose money, but his family and buffalo go hungry.  With this knowledge present in every family's mind, the environment and their land become grounded, tangible things that they must work with and care for as a matter of survival.

Members of the Rathod family outside their villa (photo courtesy of Courtney Stanley).

In wrapping up blog post 1, it seems suitable to look at our own divorce from nature.  Families still own farms in America, but they do so at the behest of large-scale food production corporations.  A large contingent of my family farms corn and raises hogs in central Ohio and their existence is very separate from their land.  They are not allowed to eat any product they produce and chemical fertilizers and genetically engineered corn seeds have saved them from having to care for the soil.  Ultimately, this has raised our status of living, but for how long and at what cost?  Is it really even worthwhile?  I will attempt to weigh in on these questions during my next two installments.