The "Field"

It’s Saturday night and I finally have one night off. I am feeling kind of ok. Other than work and watch really horrible movies or Gujarati shows on TV, I don’t have much to do. I was talking with a friend in Ahmedabad and it seems everybody has their Saturday night plans but me :(. Well, my Saturday night plan so far has included taking a shower after spending 5 long hours in the field, getting drinking water filled in a large can from the office, buying 1 Kg apple and a dozen bananas as well as 1 bag of milk. My cook didn’t make me dinner and she won’t be coming tomorrow. Perfect opportunity for me to take a break from the oily, heavy food and go back to the basics of milk and fruits. I have never usually enjoyed apples, but after such a long time of eating just oily vegetables and bread, a change is more than welcome. The things I learn everyday. There is no fridge in the apartment that I am staying at currently. However, I can still take care of milk if I boil it at night, then I boil it again in the morning. So boiling it every 6-8 hours should keep it going for a day or two without it going bad. Hurrah, I know how to take care of milk without a fridge. I just realized how spoilt that makes me sound. But whatever.
I have been going in the field since the last three days now. The “field” consists of 4 sectors/talukas and within these 4 sectors, fall 83 villages with a min. Population of 1000 each. So far, I have been to 5 villages in 2 sectors in the last three days. Usually I go with someone as I am still being introduced to the field and I don’t know my way around. Yesterday was an exception however because the woman that I was supposed to go with forgot about “the concept of me”. So off she went into the field and I was left to fend for myself. There is a local train service from Keshod to the place I wanted to go to (Malia). It was scheduled for 12.00 pm and I reached there at 11.55 am, it had left by that time. The train was running early. Alright, second option, take the local bus. Got to the bus station to find out there are 2 busses headed for Malia, one at 11.30 and the other at 12.00. I reached the bus station at 12.15 and neither of the two busses had left the station yet. I was glad they were running late. Then it came to be 12.30 and one of the busses finally came by. Now, let me give you an idea of what these busses are like. Soon enough you’ll see a picture of it too. For the moment, I call them “Khatara busses”, i.e. broken buses. These buses are a million years old, and they certainly look that old. It took me 40 minutes to reach Malia and it feels like you are sitting in the middle of a construction zone with drilling machines on your head. Now imagine the noise level in that scenario and add an extremely bumpy ride moving along at a snail’s pace. That was my bus ride to Malia. On my way back from Malia, I had to take the local 6 pm train by myself and I couldn’t believe it. The ticket was Rs.4. Rs.40 = 1 CND. You do the math on that one. I couldn’t believe it. These are the local trains where there is crap on the floor, the seats are wooden planks painted blue, there are child vendors inside selling peanuts and goats on the train. It was a short enough train ride and I made it home safe. Not that bad actually. Today on the other hand, I was supposed to take the bus but by the time we reached the station, the bus had left (even though we were told it hadn’t). So we waited half an hour, then went and checked and were told the bus left an hour ago. Then we took a thing called a “jhagda”. Once again pics will be coming up soon enough. A jhagda is very difficult to describe in words, so I will wait for the pics. For that all i can say is, you better hold on to the rod above for dear life and your bum will get used to the soarness and the numbness eventually. It’s like, your legs become so numb that you stop feeling them entirely until a bump or pothole rattles up the whole jhagda and a kid falls in your lap. Again, wait for pictures for a more clear explanation. And on my way back, we did triples on a motor bike. What that means? Three people on a normal, smaller motor bike going on a highway without helmet. 
Now, as for the field work Hm....I don’t want to talk about the work, but more about my feelings. I have already mentioned the kinds of houses I have been to. These are houses with a small small door that opens up into a courtyard that has a few buffaloes in it, (animal) shit on the floor and walls, one room that houses the entire family of 6 and an outdoor bathroom type place. That’s one type of house, and the other are the style that I am more familiar with, the ones with a kitchen, a bathroom, actual floor (not mud floor) etc etc. So there is a substantial variety in the kinds of houses, and there is a whole spectrum within the same village of a 1000 people. But one thing that’s common is that no matter where I go, most people are extremely hospitable. You have no idea how many times I have to had to drink “Cha” (chai) and decline water. Every house that I went to, and I have been to quite a few households now, probably around 20ish, I am asked two questions. “which village”, and “which caste”. I have also been asked “do I believe in god” before being offered water/chai/food. To each of these questions I have had a mixed response. I am still trying to figure out a response for them coz I am going to get them asked everywhere. While village is taken care of by the people I go with, they introduce me as the “madam from Canada who has come here to study”. Which caste, I have resorted to saying my last name “Sharma”, implying I am not a Muslim, and am Brahmin. Usually that seems to suffice. I have had to lie however and say yes I do believe in god in the field. I had a feeling that were I to say, no I don’t, that might not have been taken too well. So in the field I said yes, i do. They don’t press further, at least not now. So I am not sure how my non-belief in god is going to play a role in my future interactions, but i have a suspicion people are def. Not used to meeting people who don’t believe in god. On the topic of god, ironically, I carry a small statue of Ganesh in my bag. I had kept it in my bag in Ahmedabad and it’s just been there since.
Other than God, another thing I am becoming acutely aware of is the power dynamics. I am a “madam from Canada”. Even though all the women can sit on the floor together, they insist I sit on a chair. Today we went for a community meeting and a person from my office said that I should sit at the head of the table, so that it gives the impression that someone important has come to take interest in their lives. As he said, “we are too normal now, nothing”. Something along those lines. I am not quite sure how to respond to that yet because I keep telling the people that I go with I have come to learn from them, not vice versa. And yet the tag of Canadian, being a Shastri intern, speaking English, having fair skin (in comparison to others) comes with a power tag, whether its wanted or not, it’s there. Now I just wonder if I can use this so called power in a productive manner. While I am talking about my power, I am definitely amazed by some of the people that I have met. These are the people on the ground, making things work, staying out in the sun for 10 hours on a daily basis, going house to house, these are the women/ and a few men, who know the community and the community knows them. It is their hard work that has taken the project where it is now. And I can’t help but feel guilty of having this unearned power and privilege. I had read about this theoretically, but am experiencing something like this for the first time. It’s bizarre. I try to “neutralize” it (wrong word, but can’t think of anything else right now) by talking with the women in my extremely extremely broken gujarati, or at least speaking in Hindi and trying to let them know that I realize how important their work is. I am curious to see how this power dynamic shapes up over the next few months as the community gets to see and hear more of me.
I am trying to mingle up in the office now, and so far I think I am doing fine. I am getting used to hearing Gujarati and now have even started speaking some. I am kind of worried I will pick up a gujju accent, that too the Kathvadia dialect one. The skin tan is already getting quite extremely. My legs are substantially fair than my hands and my face. My hair is getting rough like a mosquito net (which i need to buy) and my face is getting asdjfaldsjfasldjflsdjfds. I cannot figure out whether I am gaining weight or losing weight. You be the judge of that once I start clicking pics.
Till then, adios. Now I have to figure out what I want to do for the rest of the evening. Probably work?
Oh also, did I mention I tried ironing my suits today (Indian dresses, with top, pant and scarf), i did half a salwar (pant) and got tired. I think I will just send them in for ironing. Blah.