Utterkashi is the North Western most districts in the new state of Uttranchal in the Indian Himalaya. Utterkashi borders with Tibet/China in the North and the Indian state of Himachal Pradesh in the West. Mori Block is in the interior of Uttarkashi. The land during the monsoon is green and lush. Every time the clouds burst, the rivers which rush along the valley bottom visibly rise with torrents of dirty brown water, thick with the earth which has been drained away from the steep wooded mountain sides. Landslides and roadblocks are commonplace. Earthquakes are also common in this area, with the last major quake killing over 1,000 in 1993. Villages are dotted around, mostly along the side of the valleys. Farming is mostly subsistence. Paddy fields surround the villages along the valley bottoms, extending a little way up the mountainsides. The impression is that the land cannot be tamed here. Communities have to make do living off land they are able to farm without upsetting the precarious balance between themselves and the environment.
The following exerts have been taken from the diary of a volunteer as an example of some of the work done by one of the teams in RLEK.
In the evening we are visited by the head Forest Ranger. There have been communications between Prakriya team and the Forest Dept previously in Mori, but so far relationships have been strained. Historically RLEK and the Forest Dept have been in confrontation due to RLEK's support of Van Gujjar and other mountain comunities and the Forest Dept's attempts to protect the environment by stopping the transhumance activities of the Van Gujjars.
Gitu does a good job of explaining that the Prakria program is equally concerned with the protection of the environment and forests. She offers the assistance of Prakriya team volunteers in spreading the message via tree planting exercise, which will be a part of Green Day the following day. We are given an invitation to attend Green Day. Gitu says this is a good step forward in building better relationships with the Forest Dept, which has historically been a strained one.
We go and participate in Green Day government initiative. The forest dept is responsible for tree planting and encouraging the local population to do likewise. Similar exercises have previously failed. The cause of Previous failure is cited as being that the trees were given away, therefore the people who received that placed no value on them, therefore did not care for them. This time the Forest Dept will be charging a nominal amount of 3-5 Rupees in the hope that as the people have been charged for the trees they will therefore place a value on them and ensure that they survive and grow.
A ceremony is held attended by the Forest Rangers, Local Block officials and the local Pradhan (a female). There then takes place some intensive tree planting (especially on the part of Gitu who is no doubt keen to show the support of RLEK and UNDP and single handedly plants hundreds of trees in the mid-day sun - Pratima and I can't keep up with her relentless pace and watch on from the safety of the shade). Speeches are then given (in Hindi) by various officials.
The evening sees the facilitators and fieldworkers trying to bash out a plan for the following days. Seems to be rather an arduous process which I watch from the sidelines until it finally ends at around 11pm. Too tired to eat, though force a bit of Chowl down before going to bed. No sooner do our heads hit the pillows than a HUGE storm bursts forth. Pretty scary stuff. I presume that the whole of Mori is about to be washed down the river. Rain is flooding in through a window and the floor becomes flooded. Ravinder (our cook) does his best at trying to quickly fashion a wall together outside to stop a newly created river from draining away the foundations of the office. We then proceed to construct beds on top of rows of chairs so as not to be drowned in the middle of the night. Finally put heads down again and try to sleep through the thunder. Thus ends National Environment day - with a bang, The environment has the last say letting us know what it's capable of. Had the trees not been above us on the mountainside, maintaining the soil and preventing the land from sliding away, there's no doubt that a storm like that would have washed us all away.
The previous days have seen the most torrential rain that I have ever witnessed. This results in landslides on the roads all over these parts. Therefore today we must walk the whole way to Ramal village. On the walk I talk to the Chief Officer from the SSB in Mori block. The SSB I am to discover later is a central government department working with communities in the border areas of India. They are responsible for training in various areas of development such as health, education and water along with training in the old art of guerilla warfare. The SSB was established upon independence and acts almost as a third branch of the army. The idea is that should India be invaded at any of it's borders then the people will be able to defend themselves.
As we are walking along, we talk about the issues facing development in the area. He tells me that the road we are walking along (as there's been a landslide there won't be any vehicles making use of it for the time being) was built in 1980, 35 years after independence. The electricity line was put in only a year ago. The supply is pretty sketchy. It's off during the day and about 50% of the evenings it cranks up for a couple of hours at about 7pm. The telephone line was put in 3 months ago. There is now one STD booth in the town.
Rice is the predominant crop grown in this area. One family will grow enough rice to feed themselves for about 8-9 months. They have to raise funds to provide for themselves for the rest of the year.
The CO tells me that the biggest issue facing education is not that it is not provided, but that parents cannot afford their children's time to be spent away from the fields in the classroom. Back in Dehra Dun I am informed that school holidays take place at the same time during the summer throughout the country, probably a throwback to the British era. Whilst this may make sense in the plains it makes no sense in these parts. What would be far more practical were if the holidays coincided with the rainy season in the hills. This would enable the children to work in the fields at the most crucial time of the year without disrupting their education.
Whilst walking along a Van Gujjar boy is walking alongside us. He is 12 years old and is engaged to be married in 2 years. He has never been to school, as his parents never encouraged it.
As we walk passed the paddy fields on the way up the valley Gitu, who is the co-ordinator of the Prakriya project with RLEK in Uttarkashi, shouts across to the women in the fields, encouraging them to put down their scythes and come and attend the meeting. They shout back that if we first come and help them with the planting then they'll have time to come and attend the meeting. We do not go to help with the planting and they unfortunately do not attend the meeting as neither party has time to spare.
A SHG meeting is held attended by about 15 people, men, women and children who gradually turn up as more time passes. The purpose of today's meeting is to show the villagers how to make different types of soap using natural, organic ingredients, which they can harvest at no cost from the surrounding hills. The aim of this is that they will then be able to make the soap at no cost to themselves or the environment. Ordinary soap is costly to both.
Whilst at the meeting, I speak to a boy who speaks very good English. He is around 16 years old. He tells me that the SHG meetings are mostly attended by the more prosperous and literate members of the village. He says that other members of the village, the most needy cannot afford the time away from the fields. This is a critical time of year, as they have a couple of months only in which to plant their rice. Any time away from the fields, means a smaller harvest and less rice to keep them through until the next harvest. There is also the possibility that they do not know about the meetings as they may not have been informed by other village members.
The plan for the next few days is to head further into the interior, spending a few nights in some of the more inaccessible villages high up in the mountains.
The villages we are making for are located in Govind Vanya Pashu Vihar National Park. Our first days journey involves a succession of jeepney rides, each interrupted by a short hike or traversing a landslide, finished off with a final climb high up into the mountains to the village of Pujeli. Pujeli has a population of about 500. On arrival I am stunned by the architecture. The Temple is the first building to greet visitors on their arrival from the valley bottom. It is a beautiful three-layered, wooden Pagoda-like structure. Gitu tells me that all the Temples in these parts will have been commissioned to a carpenter who single-handedly constructs the building, never leaving the village until it is complete.
All the buildings are made using a robust hard-wood frame. The dark brown timbers, which form the walls, are alternated with stone, which is covered in a rustic plaster and whitewashed. The houses are tall square structures rising to 2 or 3 storeys high. The ground floor are used as barns for housing the large cattle, the second floor is used for smaller animals such as sheep and goats and the top floor is lived in by the family itself. The roofs are constructed the same as the lower villages we have visited like Ramal, with enormous mountain slate balanced between the wooden beams. The houses are surrounded by flagstone courtyards, which are used to dry and sort the grains, wheat, rice's and pulses before they are stored away for the winter. All food is stored in a separate wooden structure, located away from the house and raised off the ground on short stilts. This I am told is done so that should the house burn to the ground, the family's food will not burn along with it and they are raised off the ground so as to stop the mice from getting in. The women exclusively deal with the sorting and storage of all the different grains. The building's design has ensured that they have survived the earthquakes, which are commonplace in these parts. The only concrete building in the village is a small primary school building, which sits up on the hillside overlooking the town.
We play cricket with the kids that evening until the light fades. Then the kids are sent home and we wait for the women to arrive for the SHG meeting. However, it becomes clear that time in the field is precious during the monsoon months, as the women remain working until the last light disappears at around 9pm.
We are told that they will be too tired for a meeting, and besides they are still to cook the evening meal for their families on their return from the fields. There may be a chance for a meeting in the morning before they leave for the days work. These months are precious times as winter here lasts for six months with deep snowfall putting a halt to any work in the fields. As they rely on the food that is harvested to see them through the winter, they must work as hard as they can during these few months so that their supply does not run out. During the winter, they remain warm indoors, spinning wool, knitting and entertaining themselves.
No meeting this morning. The women have all gone straight back to the fields.
We walk up to the next village, Ludgyard. Ludyard is much smaller, with about 15 houses in total. It is also noticeably poorer. Whilst Pujeli had several fresh water springs dotted around, there is no water supply here. As we arrive, I notice a woman busily cleaning her pots and pans in a pool of stagnant brown rainwater. The houses are built to the same design, but the overall impression is that the place is run down. All the men here are carpenters and get work for around 2 months of the year.
One of the major themes of the SHGs has been to introduce micro-credit initiatives for the loaning of money within the village. Each member is issued with an account card, which they must bring to the meeting. The card is kept up to date by the Prakriya volunteer/fieldworked who fills in details of all payments and borrowings to date. The members of this village put in 5 Rupees a month, but the amount is dependent on what the members are able to afford. Once they have saved a certain amount, the government gives a subsidy amount to add to their total. The principal of the scheme is to give the members of the SHG access to a pool of money for use in emergencies (e.g. hospital bills, education bills etc), which they then pay back to the group at nominal interest. Ideally this will lead to a sufficient pool of capital, which can be used to invest in small business/cash raising ventures.
The project has been going for two years now and it is clear that there is still someway to go in ensuring that the records are kept up to date and accurate. Not surprising considering that the vast majority of members live below the poverty line and are completely illiterate having never been to school a day in their lives. Basic bookkeeping also confused the hell out of me!
At every meeting I will attend, the proceedings will take the same form. SHG members are slowly assembled, being pulled away from their daily tasks. The majority of members are women (with babies and kids in tow) with a scattering of men also involved. They always arrive without their forms. The volunteer will then spend time explaining the importance of the forms and that they must bring them to the meetings. Children are sent scuttling away and gradually return with pink and green forms in hand. The same procedure then takes place regarding the register. The register and forms are then checked and updated by the volunteer or fieldworker. Gitu casts her eye over things, picking out inconsistencies and inaccuracies. Members wanting loans for various reasons will put in their claims.
There is obviously a long way to go before this becomes a self-running scheme. It's success will rely on all the members accepting the importance of keeping the records up to date and there being one member who is trusted with keeping them up to date. In principal it is a fine idea and I am reminded of the history of building societies in the UK. The difference in their conception was that the community involved initiated building societies, which was by that time already highly educated.
These micro-credit schemes whilst maybe on a much more humble scale are never the less giving a group of people access to finances that they previously would never have been able to get hold of. The fact that the members are predominantly women is of great importance. Historically, the men have always controlled the money in the family. Unfortunately, men being what they are, the money often ends up being used for selfish purposes, alcoholism is a big problem in these parts. Now there is opportunity for the women to ensure that their children are getting the basic medicines they require and maybe even the schoolbooks that are needed. I wonder whether these schemes one day will become institutions themselves.
After the meeting we walk to the next village, Khanyasinyi. On the way, we bump into a villager walking along with his dog, spinning wool. We sit down to talk. It's only then that I notice his dog, a beautiful big long haired Himalayan beast has a six-seven inch thick solid metal spiked collar around it's neck. Apparently these collars are to give the dogs a fighting chance when they get into scraps with the tigers and leopards that inhabit these parts. No sooner do I discover this than a wizened old man with a silver beard huffs and puffs his way up the mountainside with a huge load of wood he's gathered from the forest on his shoulders. He dumps his load, settles himself beside us, helps himself to the rest of our snacks then proceeds to tell us how he watched his dog killed by a tiger yesterday! Next thing our host for the evening wanders round the corner and joins in with the anecdotes of local wildlife by proudly informing us that his old dog killed two tigers before being killed by a third. He'd watched a Tiger, thirteen feet long and four feet tall from his balcony less than a month before. Whilst the dimensions may have been exaggerated I start thinking that I'd like to get to his house pretty sharpish.
Khanyasinyi is a larger version of Pujeli. The people themselves all have similar features and mostly are a very good looking bunch. They are small, with angular faces and pronounced cheekbones. They are mostly quite light skinned with dark silky hair. Some have a suggestion of the oriental, and some look positively Tibetan. The men wear thick woolen coats and trousers with a small round cap with upturned green felt rim which is a feature of traditional Himalayan dress. Both men and women wear the same heavy clothes all year round. The thick wool keeps off the heat of the sun in the summer and keeps out the cold in the winter. The women also sometimes wear Chouldi and always have a Dhandu (headscarf), a fat golden nose ring and ears dripping in rings of various metals, designs and sizes. It seems that the older the woman, the more earrings she wears. I wonder whether there is a way of calculating a woman's age by the number of earrings she has, like the rings of a tree.
The evening brings another game of cricket. By the time it is pitch black the women are back from the fields and a small meeting is held in the light of burning kindling sticks. Only one or two are burnt at a time, providing just enough flickering amber light to reflect the attendee's faces. Wood is obviously a valued commodity here and is used sparingly. The meeting takes the usual form with the only difference being that in the darkness it is difficult to tell who is doing the shouting. More often than not, everybody seems to be shouting at the same time. I've started to notice that "discussions" often take this form, even back in the office with my team. The English are often too reserved and shy to speak out in debate. In comparison, Indians seem to be characterised as being rather outspoken as opposed to being great listeners. Whilst initially I found it rather difficult to understand the form of these discussions, I'm starting to learn that nothing is meant personally and that the best way of getting heard and listened to is probably by shouting the loudest.
These field trips take place every month and last for around 15-20 days. The above are just a few of my observations from a few days of one trip. The space here is too limited to even begin to tell you of the incredible things to be seen and learnt in this area. Modern India has arrived by road further down in the valley bottom, and is knocking on the door, armed with it's TV's and Temples. There is a lot to be learnt from these people, let's just hope that there's time left to learn it. The work that's being done by RLEK and Prakriya here is intended to assist in any small way possible, to give these people a little help in enabling them to have a choice about the direction in which they would like to develop.
| Christopher Galvin | Send your queries |
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