Villages in Gujarat are generally quite prosperous. At times, when you enter one, they won't even seem like a village at all. This has a lot of reasons behind it. First, the flux of NRIs, or may be I should say the NRGs. They bring with them a lot of prosperity and pomp. If not anything else, they contribute to the betterment of their villages, and then their new abode abroad becomes 'tyaan' and their homes here become 'ahinya'. The second is the overall economic development of the State. The state is seeing economic development like never before, so much so that farmers in a village like Sanand are driving Audi, something that I still wonder if I should buy!
However, this one village, called Abhlod, It is a village in Dahod district, about 10 km from Dahod. The scenery is beautiful all around with the fields of maize crops swaying in the gentle breeze. Its monsoon season now, the Sun is not too bright and sharp, and its heat is warm and pleasant and far from being scorching. The atmosphere is a bit sultry, but the breeze makes up for it. It drizzles every now and then. There are hills in the background that beautifies the scene even more. The people staying here are majorly Patelias, Bhils and Bharwads. The village was not a very safe one, as there were quite many instances of thefts, loots and robberies. People generally had bow and arrows, and rifles in their homes.
The homes had no proper flooring. It was a layer of mud spread over the floor in a designer manner, that we in Gujarati call Lipan. The walls were also plastered with mud. The roofs were made of sticks and fixed together with metal clamps. The villagers said that the roof would stay together even in a storm. Sounds good!
Our stay arrangements were made in a house that was under construction. The walls and all was done, it was plastered, but painting and furnishing was pending. So it was like an empty box. The Grameen Vikas Trust specially made arrangement of mattresses and pillows for us. I asked them if they could arange somethingt o wrap us, may be a sheet or something. They did that also. For lunch, we were given makai na rotla (bread made out of maize floor), arhar dal and rice. It was quite tasty. I myself don't have a habit of taking this kind of food, but then a change is always welcome. And then, why not? I found out that maize is the staple diet of these people. Makai na rotla is an everyday food item for the people here. At such short notice, the villagers provided the best that they could. The way the GVT officers were teaching us resource mapping, crop matrix, soil matrix and all was too good. The way they talked to the villagers taught me how to tackle the talking. I realized that if you talk to the villagers in their own tongue, in their way, it removes any unseen barriers that would exist in the minds of the people. It brings them closer to you. And more so, since I was from Anand, the villagers connected with me like they did with no one else. They talked to me and behaved with me as if I was one of their own. In turn, I made it a point to be as much aligning with their customs and practices as possible. Ideally, come what may, a woman will never lie down in front of people, even if it is her own family. I kept up with this simple principle and no matter how I felt, I kept standing and studying. This made them feel that yes, this woman is concerned about the work, and hasn't come here to sleep. How bad would it make the villagers feel to see girls and guys sleeping next to each other in a mix, someone's head on somebody's shoulder, somebody's hand somewhere. No matter what we say and what we do, it is the normal norm of the society that a man will always be considered a step ahead of a woman, and then this is a tribal society I am talking of. I respect that, and consider it essential to exercise certain constraints. Certain boundaries must never be crossed.
At night, we were served normal wheat roti, mix veg subzi, rice and dal. No where in any food till now, did I see a single drop of ghee or butter. This showed how poor the household was. The entire village had only one washroom. People would use the corn fields to attend to the nature's call. So we can understand how backward the village is.
NABARD is running a badi project through GVT here. Mango and pomegranate are the main badi crops.
i was so fed up of cribbing, I stuck earphones into my ears and sat reading my book called The Rembrandt Affair by Daniel Silva. Let people talk whatever they want to. There were a lot of mosquitoes. The people had arranged all the things at a short notice, so they had pulled the wires for electricity from the neighboring house. There were a lot of insects too due to the monsoon. But I don't complain. What can somebody do is the arthropods want to wreak havoc? Nobody's fault is it. So finally, I went to sleep, wrapped myself in the sheet they had given. People had ordered bread and butter from the neighboring town and had a time eating it. I didn't even want to touch it. Why should I? If I do, it would show that I don't like the existing circumstances, which was not at all the case.
Next day I was the forerunner in about 5-7 km transit walk we did. Some people didn't come after a small distance and sat at the temple all the time, while a few of us, walked around the village and completed the transit walk. I am proud to have finished it. I am not a weakling, delicate darling. I am strong, sturdy. Mosquitoes are a bit too small and timid to disturb my sleep or affect me in any way. A walk never harms. Yeah, the lactic acid formed in the legs as a result of the fast, brisk walk hurt somewhat. But the hurt was not enough to snatch my smile away.
I came back, took a hot water filled in a bucket, put about 250g of salt in it. Dissolved it well and then, dipped my feet into it and relaxed.
Why do people have to fuss and crib and complain about everything? I never understand, never will!
That's me!
