“Western Rajasthan: One of the most inhospitable regions for human habitation in India!” These are the words that greeted me on the page of a pamphlet I browsed while sitting in the office of Surjan Ram Jaipal, Executive Director of URMUL Marusthali Bunkar Vikas Samiti (Desert Weavers Development Society). These same words have a whole new meaning now, a day later, as I’m holed up in my dark (the power has gone, which is a common occurence), tiny room waiting out my first sandstorm. My keyboard is gritty from the sand accumulating underneath my fingertips as I type. I can hear the wind doing damage to the tin plates and porcelain chai cups in the courtyard/kitchen below. This is a whole ‘nother level of unfamiliarity, isolation and culture shock.
For the internship portion of my program I’ve chosen to head back west to Jaisalmer with my partner in crime Caroline (pronounced Carolyn, which has been just so much fun to try and explain to everyone. In fact, Jakir the cook has renamed us "Shasha" and Malia, after Obama's daughters). On the way we’ve stopped off at UMBVS’s main headquarters in Phalodi, a small town halfway between Jodhpur and Jaisalmer. UMBVS originated as a small organization of weavers, banding together as dalits (formerly of the untouchable caste) looking for a way to generate income during the severe drought of 1987. There are now 178 weavers (only 10% of which are women. Contrary to what we would think, weaving is traditionally a men’s task) in the organization who work and live in various villages of the Jodhpur and Jaisalmer districts. UMBVS’s role in the community has expanded. There are a variety of development programs being run, which focus on health care, primary education, water and energy, Self-Help Groups, and women empowerment.
Today we drove 60 km (about an hour by jeep) to Surjan Ramji’s village. There we met his extended family and saw some weavers in action. The villages are divided and organized into Dhanies (a cluster of 5 to 10 huts), which are usually quite far from each other. The huts are usually made of cow patties with thatched roofs.
So inhospitable living conditions, yes, but the people here are quite the opposite. In fact, they’re the only reason I don’t go running back to the city with a white flag of surrender trailing behind me. The language barrier is a challenge (as Surjan Ramji put it, “Language discussion problem”), but the men working here are the least creepy I’ve found in India yet and their young and invariably large families that live on site are adorable and welcoming. Plus, kids help break down language barriers.
As for what we’re doing from day to day, a lot is unknown to us and we’ve therefore learned to go with the flow. We have a roughly outlined schedule for the days ahead; for example, we know these next two days that we’re in Phalodi we’ll be doing field visits to the surrounding villages. But what a “field visit” actually entails we’ve yet to find out. Once you let go a little bit, it’s fun and exciting not knowing what awaits you when you wake up in the morning. Usually I’m pleasantly surprised.
Caroline, more technologically able than I, has helped me figure out how to post pictures! Above is a picture of me from Holi, my parents and I at Amber Fort in Jaipur, a picture of me in front of my fourth and final birthday cake of the day, and the infamous sandstorm.
this is very cool
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