All dressed up in India

MRG’s Gender Programme Coordinator, Kathryn Ramsay, is in Madhya Pradesh at a training with inspiring Dalit women leaders from north India

 

I’m standing in a hotel room surrounded by nine laughing Dalit women who are wrapping a sari around me. I feel like I’m a doll being dressed up! As they tuck and pin the 5 meters of material around me, I wonder how long it takes sari-wearing women to get dressed every morning. Apparently not as long as it’s taking them to dress me – maybe because they’re taking photos of every step of the process!

I’m in India (in Pachmarhi, a small hill station in Madhya Pradesh) for a four-day training programme for Dalit women leaders. The last time I came to India, I met most of the 24 women from 8 different Indian States at a regional conference held by MRG’s partner Navsarjan, where we discussed their training needs and planned a programme to equip them with leadership skills and opportunities to put those skills into practice to benefit other Dalit women. Navsarjan has begun that programme and is running a series of training events for the group over the next 10 months.

They are an inspiring group of women. Many have experienced domestic violence; one is taking a case of attempted murder against her husband. All have been put under pressure to stop their work as activists, either by the dominant castes in the community or by their own families. But all of them are determined to continue their work, and, through the trainings, improve their skills to become more effective in helping other Dalit women.

Today was the last day of the training. Over four days we have focused on human rights and gender equality, the Indian Constitution, Penal Code and the Prevention of Atrocities Act (an act which specifically outlaws caste based discrimination and violence and provides increased punishment for crimes committed because of caste). Most of the women are already supporting others in taking up cases of violence against Dalit women and they were totally absorbed in the topics. One of them commented, ‘We’ve had other trainings, why didn’t anyone tell us this information before?’

The intricacies of how to register a criminal case with the police and the investigation process which should then be followed (but is frequently not) were presented by one of Navsarjan’s most experienced lawyers. The material was explained using a case invented by the participants – a fight between four of them in the hotel dining room resulting in a death, with plates, sandals, handbags and a water bottle as the weapons used! I don’t think any class of university law students either studied so hard or laughed so much while learning the same material.

Finally the sari is pleated, tucked and pinned to their satisfaction. One gives me her necklace to wear, another sticks a bindi on my forehead and I’m ready to be taken downstairs and showed off to the others!

After many more photos, several participants want me to go dancing in the tiny hotel disco which is pumping out Indian pop music at a decibel level I think would probably be illegal in a London nightclub. We all had a great time dancing there on the night we arrived (something they would never do at home) but this time I have to say no since I think if I try to dance in a sari, I may break my ankle, or at least fall in a very ungraceful heap in the middle of the dance floor!

Tomorrow there are a few hours free for visiting the area around Pachmarhi (a first visit for all of us) and then everyone leaves for long train rides back to their home states. I feel privileged to have shared this time with these women. I’m humbled by the challenges they face and determined to raise the money we need for the rest of the programme. I’ll also be taking away some of the ideas gained from the women’s experience which might transfer to some of the other communities MRG works with. I now have a few days off and I’m heading back down to the sweltering heat of the plains (around 43 degrees Centigrade) to a national park in the hope of seeing one of India’s rarest animals, the tiger.

Empowerment through sweet eating

Kathryn Ramsay, MRG’s Gender Programme Coordinator, is asked to perform a rather unorthodox task whilst visiting partners in India.

The job of a programme coordinator at MRG is varied, but I never thought it would include being asked to judge a sweet eating competition! I’m in India to visit MRG’s Gender Programme partners. Navsarjan Trust, based 45km outside Ahmedabad in Gujarat, is working with MRG on research on violence against Dalit women and promoting Dalit womens’ leadership. They also run a vocational training centre – Dalit Shakti Kendra (DSK) – and it is young women from the training centre (aged 15-22) who are taking part in the sweet eating competition. Entering the hall, 11 are sitting on a stage with empty plates in front of them, watched by another 20 girls chattering excitedly.

But why would sweet eating be part of a vocational training course? All the girls belong to the Dalit community, the lowest rank in India’s caste system. Dalits are ‘outcasts’ and although illegal, many ‘untouchability’ practices continue, especially in rural areas. The training the girls receive at DSK equips them with skills to do jobs outside their traditional ‘caste occupations’ (demeaning jobs forced on them because of their caste). It also teaches them about equality and empowers them to challenge the discrimination they face. Navsarjan’s Director, Manjula Pradeep, tells me that the sweets they will be eating, known as laddoos, are traditionally only eaten by upper castes members and are forbidden to Dalits.

Dalit girls taking part in the sweet eating competition

I’m asked to hand out sweets to each girl then a DSK staff member starts the competition. The noise and excitement in the hall increases dramatically. Laddoos are balls of about 3cm in diameter made of chickpea flour. I taste one; it’s very sweet and extremely heavy. After each round girls drop out and those continuing are given more sweets. At the end of four rounds the joint winners are obviously delighted (the prize is 1000 Rupees or about £14) although they both look like they’re about to be sick!

The following day is very special for DSK. All of the 2138 women and girls who have received training have been invited back for a celebration of their achievements. Girls from the Valmiki community – the lowest sub-caste of Dalits whose traditional caste occupation is cleaning out human excrement by hand from dry toilets – have been invited as an encouragement to them to join training programmes like DSK. In total around 800 Dalit women and girls are present along with some Muslim and indigenous women who have also received training at DSK. A testament to the value these women place on DSK is that so many travelled from all over Gujarat (some for over 7 hours) and at their own expense, to attend the event.

There is an awards ceremony for current students (including the prize for the sweet eating competition) and then former students tell their stories of coming to DSK and how their lives have been changed. Some are running their own tailoring businesses having been taught to sew and helped to buy sewing machines, others now have jobs in companies after receiving computer training, one has her own mobile phone repairing business and a number have gone on to become staff at Navsarjan.

Also in the audience are 30 Dalit women from 5 other states in India. They are all leaders (or potential leaders) who have come to see the work of Navsarjan and to discuss what they can do to strengthen their leadership and what type of training and support they will need to do it. Sweet eating aside, this is the reason for my visit, and we will spend the next two days devising a plan of action.

Discovering Kathmandu and a vision for the future of Nepal

Cecile Clerc, MRG’s Head of Fundraising, is in Nepal for a meeting with MRG partner organisations to design a new programme to fight discrimination against Dalit women.

Asia seems to be a popular destination with MRG staff lately. A few weeks ago, my colleague Emma was in India and this time, Kathryn, our Gender and Advocacy Coordinator and I have landed in Nepal.

We are in Kathmandu for a couple of days to meet with MRG’s main in-country partners (FEDO and DNF) and discuss the possibility of designing a new programme focussing on fighting against the discrimination experienced by Dalit women and girls.

While waiting to go through immigration and medical checks (yes the spectrum of swine flu has reached Asia too) I look through the windows of the airport and see a clear blue sky, tall mountains in the horizon… My first impression of the country is of quietness and tranquility.

And then we leave the airport… and everything changes!

No more peace… motorbikes, human beings, cars, buses…even cows share the road. Clearly there is no space for everyone. I close my eyes for most of the trip and decide that I’ll admire the surroundings on my way back to the airport when I’m a little more familiar with the traffic.

At the hotel, we meet with Durgha, Director of FEDO. She wants to make sure that everything is fine and that we will be ready for the meeting which starts the following day. We are.

Patan Durbar Square

Before nightfall we go for a walk up to Patan Durbar Square, a monumental area well known for its architectural heritage (particularly Buddhist temples), recognized by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site.

We also experience a few electricity cuts, which are very usual apparently. I go to bed looking forward to meeting our partners tomorrow.

The reason for the powercuts

This morning 17 Dalit activists (15 women and 2 men) from all across Nepal have joined us for the meeting.

The first session is about discussing the issues faced by Dalit women and girls in the country in order for us to get a better grasp of the situation.

To our question, “What do you consider to be the main challenges faced by Dalit women in Nepal?” the immediate shouted answer is “Lack of political participation!” To be honest, I didn’t expect it. I was thinking maybe poverty, illiteracy, violence… But then, discussing with partners during the meeting, I realise that this is a true reflection of how Nepali society is – very politically aware and engaged. The work of the Constituent Assembly is seen by many and especially by Dalits, who are the most economically, socially and politically excluded, as a major opportunity to for the protection and recognition of their rights.

Unsurprisingly, they want to work with MRG on encouraging Dalit womens’ political participation from local to national level. They feel that once Dalit women are able to participate in the decision–making processes that influence their lives, they will be able to advocate for an improvement of their situation. Clearly, much needs to be done.

Our partners talk about the discrimination faced by Dalit women, both within and outside their community. Their extreme poverty; their lack of access to education; the physical violence they experience; the increasing trafficking of Dalit women and girls across the region for prostitution and/or illegal employment.

The list of abuses and denial of rights is long.

Nepali Dalit women at MRG meeting

But the activists are clearly not afraid by the task ahead. Ideas are exchanged on how best to work on the specific issue of political participation. Quickly, we have a strategy in place (which MRG’s Fundraising Team will then have to sell to donors in order to get the necessary funding in place to implement the work). Sometimes I wish some of the potential donors could have joined us. There was so much hope, motivation and dedication in the activists’ voices and eyes that it was truly inspirational.

I thought I’d end this blog by sharing with you two visions of the future of the Dalit movement in Nepal…

At the end of our event, one of the women who actively participated in the meeting introduced us to her daughter. She had travelled with her to attend the event and we had arranged childcare. This is a practice we welcome at MRG and always try to facilitate: women should never be prevented from participating in meetings because of childcare obligations. The little girl is funny and smiling. I joke with her mum asking if her daughter is already learning the ropes of activism. She smiled and answered quietly, “I hope that by the time she is my age, she won’t have to campaign to ensure that Dalit women are not discriminated against. I hope by that time we will be treated equally to the rest of the Nepali citizens.”

One evening during our stay, we were invited for dinner at Durgha’s house. Durgha is the Director of FEDO, a very active and professional Dalit organization which campaigns for an improvement of the situation of Dalits in Nepal. Durgha is well known in the country but also internationally and you could almost say she is famous! During dinner she tells us that not long ago her daughter was asked at school to write about what she would do when she grew up. A classic question. Her answer was not quite so typical… “To be a Dalit, because there is no shame to be a Dalit”. And she gave the example of her Mum, of her great work and engagement with the community.

I wonder if this could be the future of Nepal? A country where Dalit men and women are not discriminated against anymore because of their community? A country where they are proud to be Dalit?

In the ghetto…

MRG’s Media Officer, Emma Eastwood, makes a visit to rural Dalit communities in Tamil Nadu and finds that segregation is the norm under India’s caste system.

Today we visited the offices of a Dalit organisation in a busy and bustling market town in Tamil Nadu. The organisation wish to remain anonymous during India’s current tense pre-electoral period – a startling indicator of their fear of reprisals and threats which could prevent them from exercising their voting rights. As we entered the room two women staff members greeted us by placing huge golden garlands, threaded with sweetly smelling seeds said to bring coolness, around our necks and anointed our foreheads with turmeric powder.

Suitably blessed, and although very touched by their gesture, feeling slightly awkward to be sitting in a work meeting with what amounted to a gigantic medallion around our necks, we sat down to hear about the myriad of activities this small organisation carries out in support of Dalit communities throughout northern Tamil Nadu. After hearing about the scope of their work I wondered why two of their members had even bothered coming to the training we’d just held in Chennai – they seemed to be very highly skilled at advocacy from the village council level right up to the UN Committees in Geneva.

One of their main areas of work is to promote grass root level democracy by strengthening local self-governance – in this case meaning the Panchayat Raj village councils. According to reservations (affirmative action) enacted in Indian law, 19.8% of Panchayat Raj representatives must be Dalits and 30% of them must be women. We’d heard about a female, Dalit Panchayat President in a village about an hour’s drive away who was fighting a land rights case on behalf of her community. Eager to show our support, and to see for ourselves the realities faced by rural Dalit communities, we set off towards the village.

Almost 10% of all atrocities registered against Dalits concern conflicts over land; although the Tamil Nadu government has decreed that all Dalit families should have 2 acres of land, 92% of Dalits in the village we’re visiting don’t own land. Three years ago, frustrated by their circumstances, 120 landless Dalit families, who had previously been forced to live 2 to 3 families in the same house, decided to occupy unused village common land. When they later learned that the land had illegally been sold to a real estate company by the dominant caste villagers, the Dalits filed a case before the Chennai High Court and are awaiting a judgment, as well as fighting for title to the land themselves.

Panchayat president in Tamil Nadu (left)

The Panchayat President (far left) – a bold, eloquent woman wearing a bright red and orange sari and flashing gold earrings, tells us she became the president so that she could improve conditions for her people. She seems fearless and at ease representing her community and I can easily imagine her being a fiery advocate for Dalits issues and more than a match for the dominant caste males on the village council.

Conditions in the village are miserable

Conditions in the Dalit village are wretched – no paved roads, no electricity, no school, no sewers and just one water pump for the whole community (provided by a local NGO – access to water is a thorny issue for Dalits who are often prevented from using the same water sources as dominant castes and have to use separate glasses for drinking water in many public places such as schools and workplace canteens, despite this practice being illegal under national law).

We’re given a tour, and despite the driving poverty, they proudly show us the kitchen gardens that supplement their income (most of the villagers are out harvesting dominant caste crops) filled with plump red chillies and tomatoes, their red flesh lustrous amidst the greenery.

Afterwards we meet in a shady, palm-thatched hut and explain MRG’s work in support of minorities. What these people most desire is economic and social progress for their communities – we try to make the link between development and our work in areas such as training and advocacy, media work or blogs like this…..I hope it makes sense.

Our journey takes us on to a second Dalit community through paddy fields being tilled by water buffaloes led by rake-thin men with their longis hitched up. A timeless rural scene, typical throughout the subcontinent. Our car chases a bus with school kids hanging precariously out of the door, glad to be out of class, their ink-splattered shirts signalling the end of exams and April Fool’s Day all rolled into one.

I’ve worked out the logic behind the insane driving technique – if everyone just uses their horn (or ‘sound horn please ok’ as most trucks encourage on their tailgates) to clear the road of dogs, motorcycles, goats, school kids, auto rickshaws, cows and any other obstacle that may cross their paths then a kind of organised chaos prevails and miraculously no one is hurt….

We arrive at a Dalit community on the outskirts of a small hamlet. We know we’re there because the villagers are loudly and proudly proclaiming their presence with a huge billboard of Dalit hero Dr. Ambedkar. The level of segregation is striking….they are in effect living in a ghetto of unmade roads and grass huts, with no latrines and scant electricity. Meanwhile the dominant caste villagers live 200m down the road in mud-walled or brick houses built on paved roads.

Rural Dalit children in Tamil Nadu

We are surrounded by giggling kids. They should have been at the school 5km away but their school bus, which is provided by an NGO, broke down today. So much for India’s obligation to provide the means for every child to receive an education…I suppose the government is too busy putting a man on the moon…or building a nuclear bomb.

The issues are similar to the previous village. The Panchayat President, a tall white-haired man, tells us the community’s problems – lack of land is their chief concern and he also shows us a piece of paper which he says is the complaint he’s just filed to the Ministry of Education about the lack of not only a school bus but also a school in the village.

We say our goodbyes after taking hundreds of photos of the kids and the miserable living conditions they’re forced to live in. As we cross the invisible dividing line between the Dalit quarter and the dominant caste sector of the village, a huge silver snake slithers across the road in front of our car – a fitting metaphor for the blatant segregation typical of India’s age-old caste system, rife not only in this village, but in thousands of others just like it throughout the subcontinent.