Having been here for six full weeks now, I feel like the "honeymoon" phase of my India trip is wearing off, and I am now really living here. Now that I am over my starry-eyed wonder at glittery bangles stores, incense-filled Hindu temples, and giant elephants walking the streets, I have started to see things in a different, more realistic light. In fact, up until this week, I haven't really had any bad days, and when people asked me what is difficult for me here, I had no good answer. But now I do.
"Working" at KVK
The first week or two at work I spent getting to know as much as I could about the organization. I read, I toured the premises, I talked to everyone I could, I went on field visits to villages, I attended training courses. Then my supervisor (the only woman, and the boss, at KVK) gave me a few small projects to work on while I started to think about my larger, long-term project.
At first it was all overwhelming, and I wondered if I would ever be able to work here. I kept thinking back to my first day of work at the law office in San Francisco, when my boss gave me a 1000-page file and told me to write a few pages about torture of military deserters in Eritrea to include in his federal brief which was due at the end of the day. Somehow I survived that day, and the next year and a half, and so I think I will be able to survive this job.
Around week two at KVK I came up with a project. Then it changed completely around week three. Now it is week seven and I am still designing and altering the exact objectives and methodology. The idea is to conduct a research project on gender roles and decision-making power in the areas of crop production and animal husbandry, and with this research then attempt to sensitize some of KVK's programs to the specific and separate needs of men and women farmers. It will also be a sort of impact assessment of KVK's project on women's empowerment. I thought this would be a good project because the office is full of male scientists, and I am a female coming from a social science background, so I am in a good position to talk to women farmers especially and conduct more qualitative research that is rare in this office. KVK essentially pays zero attention to gender issues in agriculture, which to me seems extremely important since most of the farming and livestock management is done by the women, as the men migrate for daily labor jobs.
Things seemed to go well at first, and I had a few productive meetings with FSD staff and KVK staff. As I started designing the methodology, things seemed to constantly change and fall apart, or they just progressed slow as molasses in January. There were problems with the village my supervisor had selected for me to work in, so I changed villages. Now that I have collected demographic information on the new village, I have been informed it may have to change yet again. Also since this is a different kind of qualitative research project, my supervisor is having trouble following my thought processes and envisioning what exactly I am trying to do. She often makes comments like, "I think your finished report should have graphs and bar charts, things like that," or "I think this will only take you 6 or 7 days," when I am thinking it will take me a few months.
Then Siddhartha told me to collect a list of all the KVK projects in the village and the names of all the beneficiaries. It took me one week to get the "list" of projects, which was a few notebooks full of scribbled Hindi that staff members wrote when they conducted a training program. I have no idea how long it will take me to get it all translated, or how it will get done at all.
Staff members are incredibly busy this time of year because March is the end of the financial year, and everyone is crunching to get their bills finalized. Then again, sometimes I will ask someone to help me with something, and he says "yes, yes, I will get it for you," and then insists that I sit for a few hours and discuss my preferences of beer or whiskey, explain why I have freckles on my arm, and answer questions about Monica Lewinsky. Often there is nothing I can get done for days because I am dependent on people having free time to help me out, so I will sit at my desk and practice my Hindi script or watch the giant wasp make his nest on my ceiling. It's fun.
A Holi Mess
This Saturday, March 22, was a big Hindu holiday in India called "Holi." I went with some of my fellow interns to Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan, to celebrate. On Friday there was the Elephant Festival for which Jaipur is famous. We watched fabulously decorated elephants play tug-of-war with people, and supposedly there was elephant polo, but we left before it started because the ceremonies were generally slow and not as exciting as expected.
On Saturday, we got dressed in cheap, throw-away clothes and went to the Old City to "play Holi," which means throwing bright colors (in powder or liquid form) at everyone you see. It was fun at first, but it got old quickly. The streets were only full of men and little kids, and the men were mostly driving around on motorcycles looking for tourists to throw colors at. When we got tired of being attacked with pink powder, it was difficult to say no, and the men only got more aggressive. When we escaped into an autorickshaw to go look for an open restaurant, men still drove alongside our auto and threw colors at our faces. Very annoying.
Maddie, Ben, Mariel, and I also had some drama with our very rude hostel owner and had to switch hotel rooms. After we were covered in colors, we found a new hostel, and Maddie and I got in an auto to retrieve all of our bags from the old hostel and transfer them to the new one. When we got in a different auto with all the luggage to go back to our new hostel, we realized that we had no idea what the hotel name was, the address, or what part of the city it was in. And we couldn't call Ben and Mariel who were waiting there because we had their phones with us in our bags. It was incredibly frustrating and stupid of us. Our kind auto driver drove us around forever, and we asked so many people on the street to help us, though they had no idea how to help. By some miracle we found it about 30 or 45 minutes later. To add to the frustrations, since we were covered in colors, everyone chased our auto and thought we still wanted to play Holi. Since Ben was no longer with us, the men were even more aggressive, and no matter how many foul curse words we screamed at them, they refused to leave us alone. Even our auto driver couldn't keep the motorcycles away from us. Now we understand why there were no Indian women to be seen on the streets that day.
The Little Things
Living in India seems to be an emotional roller-coaster at times, with high highs and very low lows. To get around town I ride in tempos, which are like oversized autorickshaws that work like buses. But they are very small - fitting about 7 people comfortably. Of course it's India, so everyone piles in until the 16th person is hanging out the doorway for dear life. It's dirt cheap, which is good, but often uncomfortable and too much to handle when I am overwhelmed by so many people in India. Sometimes it's hard to keep a sense of humor about it when my toes are being squashed or the person pressed against me forgot to put on deoderant.
Sometimes I can deal just fine with the constant staring, but other times I want to scream and slap somebody. Don't they know it's rude to stare? Have they never seen a white person? Is there something on my face or do they have nothing better to look at for the entire 20 minute tempo ride?
Or some days I may be in a fine mood, very happy, and then a shop owner refuses my rupee bill because it has the teeniest tear at the corner. Or a man rudely steps in front of my in line when I am in a rush. Or a rickshaw driver tries to charge me double. Or I go to a coffee shop to drink something cold that will remind me of home, but the power is out for "just fifteen minutes" which turns into one hour and then I have no time to wait for my iced latte anymore. Such is life in India - constantly a challenge and a reminder of how privileged I am to come from the United States where everything seems to work.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Camel Farts and Happy Hearts
Last weekend, I went with my friends Ben and Maddie to Jaisalmer, a desert town in Rajasthan that is close to the Pakistani border. It was about a 13-hour bus ride - we took the night bus and some serious sleeping pills. The city was very beautiful - all of the buildings were the same dusty color as the sand on which the city is built. There is a large fort at the center of the city, and we spent our first day wandering around the labyrinths and exploring the intricate Jain temples within the fort. It was very hot, sunny, dry, and dusty compared to Udaipur, which by contrast is nestled in a hilly terrain and surrounded by cool lakes.
We enjoyed spending our first night in Jaisalmer in a sweet little hostel with very helpful owners, and we shared a room for a whopping 120 rupees (the equivalent of $3). It even included free chai! I dined on yummy Western food (toast with eggs and pooridge) for the first time since I have been in India, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
The main reason we went to Jaisalmer was to do an overnight camel safari to the Thar desert. We booked our safari through the hostel owners, and left in jeeps the second morning (Saturday) of our trip. The jeeps dropped us off in a village where our camel guides met us with all of our food and water. We rode for a few hours in the morning and stopped for chai and lunch under a shaded tree around 11:30. We took off again around 2 and rode until about 5pm. There were no sites to see along the way, only barren desert. As Lonely Planet warned us, most of the safari was not through beautiful rolling sand dunes like we might imagine. In most of Rajasthan, the desert is dry, rocky land with shrubby bushes and occasional trees. Still, the landscape was stunning in its own way, and it is amazing to think that people can live off of land like this at all.
One thing I learned on this trip is that I don't really like camels very much. In fact, they might be one of my least favorite animals, which surprises even me, because I am normally such an animal lover. But I quickly learned that camels are very smelly - they fart and burp a lot - and since I was at the back of the camel line during the first few hours of the trip, it was most unpleasant. Also, they are very ugly, ungraceful animals. Their bodies have weird calluses and knots everywhere, and their necks and faces are almost dinosaur-like. And worst of all, a camel is not a comfortable ride. Now, two days later, my booty is still bruised and my inner thighs still are still sore.
During much of the trip we rode silently, as the desert lends itself towards serious thinking and inner reflection. Of course the silence was often interrupted by loud farts, or a guide yelling at me, "Madame, control your camel!" as my steed plunged through the bushes to itch his belly. And sometimes the little boy who helped guide us would sing traditional Rajasthani songs as we bounced along.
Our final destination were sand dunes (the name I can't remember) where we ate dinner and slept. They were very beautiful and stunning, though there was only a small patch of them in the middle of the otherwise rocky terrain. As the sun set it became cooler and cooler, and the evening was very pleasant. Our guides cooked our dinner, which was the same as lunch - chapatis and vegetable curry cooked over a little fire. One local villager even brought us cold-ish beers. The moon rose very bright, and it lit up the desert like a streetlamp. We could see everything so clearly. When the moon disappeared around 10pm, the stars were brighter and more numerous than I have ever seen. Even the white smear of galaxies were bright and clear. It was very magical.
Ben brought his mandolin and played music as night settled in. With only ourselves to talk to for two whole days, we had many interesting conversation topics, such as - whether Brad Pitt is a down-to-earth good guy or whether his fame and sex appeal have gone to his head, restaurants in Montreal, the geography of modern nomadic cultures, "why are dinosaurs for kids?" (Maddie's question), long religious debates, if we could be a color what would we be, the mentality of pack animals, and how to make a spreadsheet out of your past relationship patterns. All very interesting.
Around 8 or 9, our guides laid out blankets on the sand and we cuddled up in our fleeces and socks and tucked ourselves under heavy blankets. There were no tents, though on some tours you can pay extra for this if you want. So we slept like this on pillows of sand under a blanket of stars - very romantic. The night was the best part of the trip by far, even if the air was colored with the wafting scent of incessant camel farts.
The next morning we were up by 630 eating plain toast with our chai. When the sun rose at 7 we were off on our camels again... unfortunately. It was a long, painful ride on the second day. We rode until lunch time - again chapati and vegetable curry - and were happy to see the jeeps come just after lunch. At the end of the trip my face was gritty with layers of dust and sand, but there was no time for a shower as we jumped right back on the overnight bus to Udaipur at 4pm on Sunday and arrived at 5am on Monday. Long weekend, great trip!
We enjoyed spending our first night in Jaisalmer in a sweet little hostel with very helpful owners, and we shared a room for a whopping 120 rupees (the equivalent of $3). It even included free chai! I dined on yummy Western food (toast with eggs and pooridge) for the first time since I have been in India, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
The main reason we went to Jaisalmer was to do an overnight camel safari to the Thar desert. We booked our safari through the hostel owners, and left in jeeps the second morning (Saturday) of our trip. The jeeps dropped us off in a village where our camel guides met us with all of our food and water. We rode for a few hours in the morning and stopped for chai and lunch under a shaded tree around 11:30. We took off again around 2 and rode until about 5pm. There were no sites to see along the way, only barren desert. As Lonely Planet warned us, most of the safari was not through beautiful rolling sand dunes like we might imagine. In most of Rajasthan, the desert is dry, rocky land with shrubby bushes and occasional trees. Still, the landscape was stunning in its own way, and it is amazing to think that people can live off of land like this at all.
One thing I learned on this trip is that I don't really like camels very much. In fact, they might be one of my least favorite animals, which surprises even me, because I am normally such an animal lover. But I quickly learned that camels are very smelly - they fart and burp a lot - and since I was at the back of the camel line during the first few hours of the trip, it was most unpleasant. Also, they are very ugly, ungraceful animals. Their bodies have weird calluses and knots everywhere, and their necks and faces are almost dinosaur-like. And worst of all, a camel is not a comfortable ride. Now, two days later, my booty is still bruised and my inner thighs still are still sore.
During much of the trip we rode silently, as the desert lends itself towards serious thinking and inner reflection. Of course the silence was often interrupted by loud farts, or a guide yelling at me, "Madame, control your camel!" as my steed plunged through the bushes to itch his belly. And sometimes the little boy who helped guide us would sing traditional Rajasthani songs as we bounced along.
Our final destination were sand dunes (the name I can't remember) where we ate dinner and slept. They were very beautiful and stunning, though there was only a small patch of them in the middle of the otherwise rocky terrain. As the sun set it became cooler and cooler, and the evening was very pleasant. Our guides cooked our dinner, which was the same as lunch - chapatis and vegetable curry cooked over a little fire. One local villager even brought us cold-ish beers. The moon rose very bright, and it lit up the desert like a streetlamp. We could see everything so clearly. When the moon disappeared around 10pm, the stars were brighter and more numerous than I have ever seen. Even the white smear of galaxies were bright and clear. It was very magical.
Ben brought his mandolin and played music as night settled in. With only ourselves to talk to for two whole days, we had many interesting conversation topics, such as - whether Brad Pitt is a down-to-earth good guy or whether his fame and sex appeal have gone to his head, restaurants in Montreal, the geography of modern nomadic cultures, "why are dinosaurs for kids?" (Maddie's question), long religious debates, if we could be a color what would we be, the mentality of pack animals, and how to make a spreadsheet out of your past relationship patterns. All very interesting.
Around 8 or 9, our guides laid out blankets on the sand and we cuddled up in our fleeces and socks and tucked ourselves under heavy blankets. There were no tents, though on some tours you can pay extra for this if you want. So we slept like this on pillows of sand under a blanket of stars - very romantic. The night was the best part of the trip by far, even if the air was colored with the wafting scent of incessant camel farts.
The next morning we were up by 630 eating plain toast with our chai. When the sun rose at 7 we were off on our camels again... unfortunately. It was a long, painful ride on the second day. We rode until lunch time - again chapati and vegetable curry - and were happy to see the jeeps come just after lunch. At the end of the trip my face was gritty with layers of dust and sand, but there was no time for a shower as we jumped right back on the overnight bus to Udaipur at 4pm on Sunday and arrived at 5am on Monday. Long weekend, great trip!
Saturday, March 8, 2008
"The Strong-Willed Man Will Take the Bride"
Believe it or not, this is the title of a very famous (and very good) Bollywood movie. Crazily, I'm slowly becoming an avid fan of Bollywood, especially since Auntie and I watch television every evening together, and I much prefer cheesey song-and-dance movies to even cheesier comedy shows I will never understand or think are funny. Granted, the movies never have English subtitles, but the plots are so simple and predictable that I hardly even need Auntie's explanation. Today, I even bought my first Bollywood movie, called "Om Shanti Om," which I watched a part of on television and fell in love with. Unfortunately I will have to watch it on Auntie's ancient computer since we don't have a DVD player.
When I talk to my parents on the phone, they often ask details about what I do every day. So here is a basic layout of a typical day...
I work Monday through Saturday, roughly from 10am to 5pm. Our office is closed every second Saturday of the month.
If I am going to the office (as opposed to a village), I wake up at 8:20, turn on the heater for my shower, and change into shorts and a tank top. Then I go behind the house where there is a small patio enclosed by a wall where no one can see me in my scantily-clad workout clothes. My exercise routine consists of jumping rope to 80s music, then some push-ups, crunches, and lunges. Then I shower.
To go to the office I either wear a shalwaar kameez (a typical Indian suit that consists of loose cotton pants, a knee-length shirt, and a scarf), or my own black or khaki pants with a loose fitting Indian-style shirt. I've decided my Western clothes are too snug fitting to wear to my office, where I am surrounded mostly by older men or farmers from even more conservative villages.
Auntie and I sit for breakfast around 9:20 and drink our mugs of chai and watch the morning horoscope programs on TV. Breakfast varies - sometimes I eat pappadam or paratha (kinds of breads), sometimes an egg omelet on roti, sometimes a spicy rice dish, sometimes Cornflakes.
Around 10am I walk to work. When I arrive, I figure out when the electricity is going off. Rajasthan has a power outage, so they cut all the power for three hours every day. It is usually from 10-1 or from 1-4, but it always varies by 30 minutes or so. So if I need to use a computer that day, I have to plan accordingly. Amazingly, my office does have internet (on some computers), which is a nice perk. I'm not quite sure what I do at work yet, so I'll just skip over that part.
There is a chai break at work around 11:30am. I walk home for lunch at 1, and return around 2. There is another chai break around 3:30, and I leave the office again at 5pm.
On Mondays and Wednesdays I walk to Hindi class after work, which is from 5:30-6:30. On Thursdays, we sometimes have FSD meetings after work. If there are no meetings, sometimes I go run errands after work, such as a trip to an internet cafe, or to buy a snack or something I need. Sometimes I just go home and pick up my room, or wash a few clothes if I need to wear something again before our cleaning lady returns. Other days I might go out with some friends to eat dinner in the old city, which has beautiful rooftop restaurants where you can watch the sun set over the lakes and the temples.
If I am home, Auntie usually makes chai around 7:30, and we sit and talk about our day. Then she begins cooking dinner around 8, and I stand in the kitchen and help her (I have become an expert at making rotis). We eat anytime between 8:30 and 9:30. Then we watch television (sometimes I opt to read) until 10:30 or 11 when we go to bed.
On my days off, I often meet up with other interns, or accompany Auntie wherever she goes. Running errands with Auntie is fun, because I can discover many wonderful secrets about Udaipur, like the back alleys where I can find a tailor, or where to have fresh-squeezed juice and which kinds are yummy. I have yet to do many touristy things, but I am planning on touring some temples very soon. And, occassionally, there are foreigners living in apartments in Udaipur who throw "parties." Tonight I am going to one, though it will be cut short so I can be home by my 10:30ish curfew.
When I talk to my parents on the phone, they often ask details about what I do every day. So here is a basic layout of a typical day...
I work Monday through Saturday, roughly from 10am to 5pm. Our office is closed every second Saturday of the month.
If I am going to the office (as opposed to a village), I wake up at 8:20, turn on the heater for my shower, and change into shorts and a tank top. Then I go behind the house where there is a small patio enclosed by a wall where no one can see me in my scantily-clad workout clothes. My exercise routine consists of jumping rope to 80s music, then some push-ups, crunches, and lunges. Then I shower.
To go to the office I either wear a shalwaar kameez (a typical Indian suit that consists of loose cotton pants, a knee-length shirt, and a scarf), or my own black or khaki pants with a loose fitting Indian-style shirt. I've decided my Western clothes are too snug fitting to wear to my office, where I am surrounded mostly by older men or farmers from even more conservative villages.
Auntie and I sit for breakfast around 9:20 and drink our mugs of chai and watch the morning horoscope programs on TV. Breakfast varies - sometimes I eat pappadam or paratha (kinds of breads), sometimes an egg omelet on roti, sometimes a spicy rice dish, sometimes Cornflakes.
Around 10am I walk to work. When I arrive, I figure out when the electricity is going off. Rajasthan has a power outage, so they cut all the power for three hours every day. It is usually from 10-1 or from 1-4, but it always varies by 30 minutes or so. So if I need to use a computer that day, I have to plan accordingly. Amazingly, my office does have internet (on some computers), which is a nice perk. I'm not quite sure what I do at work yet, so I'll just skip over that part.
There is a chai break at work around 11:30am. I walk home for lunch at 1, and return around 2. There is another chai break around 3:30, and I leave the office again at 5pm.
On Mondays and Wednesdays I walk to Hindi class after work, which is from 5:30-6:30. On Thursdays, we sometimes have FSD meetings after work. If there are no meetings, sometimes I go run errands after work, such as a trip to an internet cafe, or to buy a snack or something I need. Sometimes I just go home and pick up my room, or wash a few clothes if I need to wear something again before our cleaning lady returns. Other days I might go out with some friends to eat dinner in the old city, which has beautiful rooftop restaurants where you can watch the sun set over the lakes and the temples.
If I am home, Auntie usually makes chai around 7:30, and we sit and talk about our day. Then she begins cooking dinner around 8, and I stand in the kitchen and help her (I have become an expert at making rotis). We eat anytime between 8:30 and 9:30. Then we watch television (sometimes I opt to read) until 10:30 or 11 when we go to bed.
On my days off, I often meet up with other interns, or accompany Auntie wherever she goes. Running errands with Auntie is fun, because I can discover many wonderful secrets about Udaipur, like the back alleys where I can find a tailor, or where to have fresh-squeezed juice and which kinds are yummy. I have yet to do many touristy things, but I am planning on touring some temples very soon. And, occassionally, there are foreigners living in apartments in Udaipur who throw "parties." Tonight I am going to one, though it will be cut short so I can be home by my 10:30ish curfew.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Adventures at Mealtime
Food stories are the best! And when traveling, there never seems to be a shortage of them. Here are some of my favorites from this week.
Auntie's Birthday
This Tuesday, Auntie celebrated her 50th birthday. Since she was going to host a large dinner the next evening, she was too busy to be concerned with celebrating her birthday this year, so I decided to cook her dinner. I made the easiest, most American thing I could think of - grilled cheese and tomato soup. Besides a boring pasta salad, it was the only kind of American food I could have made here anyway.
I made a special trip to a special new grocery to find sliced bread and cheddar cheese cubes, and I bought some tomatoes from a local farmer on my way home from work. Amazingly, everything went smoothly in the kitchen. I cooked the tomatoes in a pressure cooker with salt and pepper and some wheat flour to thicken it. I mixed in a dollop of fresh cream (homemade by Auntie, who boils the fresh, unpasteurized milk we have delivered to our house every night!). The grilled cheese was easy because Auntie has a little sandwich griller - antique, but it works. I greased up the bread and popped them in. As I was cooking, I warned her, "I'm not gonna lie, Auntie, I don't know how this is going to turn out." She responded, "You put in love?" I said "of course!" and she replied, "Then is okay. Cannot be bad if you put in love."
We sat down to eat and Auntie was very impressed, or at least she acted like it. I tried to talk up the meal by telling her this is "very typical American food," and "we eat this dish a lot in the wintertime." But I bit into the grilled cheese and tasted something different. I commented on the interesting flavor of Auntie's oil, and I asked her what kind it was. I had thought it was just sunflower oil, which she often uses instead of ghee because it has less cholesterol. She said, "Which one you use?" I told her it was from the bottle in the fridge. She shook her head and said, "Nooo... there is no oil in the fridge," very puzzled. I assured her there was, and we went back and forth arguing like this. I took another bite of the sandwich and said, "it tastes kind of sweet..." Auntie's head snapped up and she said, "Ohh! Morel! That is rose syrup!" So the grilled cheese was a little sugary, and we had a good laugh, but I had "put in love," so it was all okay.
Muslim prayer circles and communal dinners
On Wednesday, Auntie invited her Muslim women's prayer group over to our house for prayer and dinner. She had been preparing the meal for four or five days. About 16 women came, plus some of her extended family in Udaipur.
Auntie made nearly all of the dishes from scratch. Only the roti she ordered made and delivered to her, because it would be impossible to make enough individual pieces of bread for everyone and still have them be hot and fresh when everyone came. Together Auntie and I made the sweet dish - a kind of sugary milky paste with cardamom and coconut flakes. (She even shelled and crushed the cardamom herself, and bought whole coconuts to crack and grate the flesh from.) Then there were fried balls made of a potato and ground mutton dough, filled with cashew nuts, raisins, and pieces of boiled egg. Then there was a sweet and salty carrot salad. The main dish was a mutton and onion curry, which was amazing beyond words. We ate it with rice and roti.
The fun part of this dinner is that all the women ate out of communal large plates on the floor of the living room. We split into two groups around two different plates, and Auntie put the food on each plate and we devoured it with our hands. I'm proud to say I've just about mastered eating food with only my right hand. It all seems to taste better when eaten with your hands anyway.
So we were scheduled to head out at 9am. Of course, the "condemned jeep" had some issues so we didn't get going until 9:30/9:45ish. We arrived at the selected site for the Field Day in the village Kempur. There on the farm is a small Hindu temple dedicated to a diety in the form of a black cobra, but I can't remember the Hindi name. It is very pretty and simple, and we sat under the tall columns on the cool stone. There were about 7 or 8 farmers there already, and they were busily cooking our lunch. I asked my coworker Dr. Seni what time the farmers were supposed to come, and he answered, "Yes, they are coming now." So we wait, and wait. Farmers slowly trickle in. We drink chai, chai, and more chai.
Meanwhile I watched the farmers cook dal bati, which are balls of lentils and wheat flour. It is very traditional Rajasthani food, and sure enough, they cooked it the very traditional way - in cow dung ashes. First they gathered cow dung patties, lit the pile on fire, and then when all was burnt, they burried the dal bati balls in the ashes for them to bake. Then I watched the men take out the dal bati and beat them with rags until they are free of ashes, more or less. Then they soaked them in ghee.
The food was not finished until about 2:30, at which point we started the Field Day. Scientists from KVK spoke for about thirty minutes about farming techniques for mustard seeds. I sat in the back with all the women, who paid no attention to the talks, but instead played with my bangles and attempted to talk to me in Hindi. I loved it.
We finally ate at 3:30. Though I had brought my own lunch (my supervisor had told me to because I would not like the food), I knew there was no way I could pass up this meal. How many times in my life will I get an opportunity to eat traditional dal bati cooked in a cow dung fire in a Rajasthani village? I also knew that all the food was kneaded and cooked with the farmers' bare hands, and since there was no soap in these villages, I knew I would probably get sick. (And I know some certain Aunties of mine in the United States are shaking their heads at me right now, but I don't care.) My decision was made. I dove fingers first into the food, and it was delicious. There was also a very spicy soup to dip the dal bati in, which made it even better. And, there was another dish called churma, another traditional Rajasthani food, made from wheat flour. It was a very sweet, dessert-like crumble. Wheat flour was mixed with a lot of sugar and nuts and raisins and ghee. I couldn't get enough of it.
To finish off the meal, they served chach, a salty buttermilk with cumin seeds that happily cooled my mouth after the spicy soup. It's not my favorite, but they say it is good for digestion, so I drink it sometimes.
I'm pleased to say that it's been over twenty-four hours, and I'm still a healthy girl!
Churma
Dal bati
Auntie's Birthday
This Tuesday, Auntie celebrated her 50th birthday. Since she was going to host a large dinner the next evening, she was too busy to be concerned with celebrating her birthday this year, so I decided to cook her dinner. I made the easiest, most American thing I could think of - grilled cheese and tomato soup. Besides a boring pasta salad, it was the only kind of American food I could have made here anyway.
I made a special trip to a special new grocery to find sliced bread and cheddar cheese cubes, and I bought some tomatoes from a local farmer on my way home from work. Amazingly, everything went smoothly in the kitchen. I cooked the tomatoes in a pressure cooker with salt and pepper and some wheat flour to thicken it. I mixed in a dollop of fresh cream (homemade by Auntie, who boils the fresh, unpasteurized milk we have delivered to our house every night!). The grilled cheese was easy because Auntie has a little sandwich griller - antique, but it works. I greased up the bread and popped them in. As I was cooking, I warned her, "I'm not gonna lie, Auntie, I don't know how this is going to turn out." She responded, "You put in love?" I said "of course!" and she replied, "Then is okay. Cannot be bad if you put in love."
We sat down to eat and Auntie was very impressed, or at least she acted like it. I tried to talk up the meal by telling her this is "very typical American food," and "we eat this dish a lot in the wintertime." But I bit into the grilled cheese and tasted something different. I commented on the interesting flavor of Auntie's oil, and I asked her what kind it was. I had thought it was just sunflower oil, which she often uses instead of ghee because it has less cholesterol. She said, "Which one you use?" I told her it was from the bottle in the fridge. She shook her head and said, "Nooo... there is no oil in the fridge," very puzzled. I assured her there was, and we went back and forth arguing like this. I took another bite of the sandwich and said, "it tastes kind of sweet..." Auntie's head snapped up and she said, "Ohh! Morel! That is rose syrup!" So the grilled cheese was a little sugary, and we had a good laugh, but I had "put in love," so it was all okay.
Muslim prayer circles and communal dinners
On Wednesday, Auntie invited her Muslim women's prayer group over to our house for prayer and dinner. She had been preparing the meal for four or five days. About 16 women came, plus some of her extended family in Udaipur.
Auntie made nearly all of the dishes from scratch. Only the roti she ordered made and delivered to her, because it would be impossible to make enough individual pieces of bread for everyone and still have them be hot and fresh when everyone came. Together Auntie and I made the sweet dish - a kind of sugary milky paste with cardamom and coconut flakes. (She even shelled and crushed the cardamom herself, and bought whole coconuts to crack and grate the flesh from.) Then there were fried balls made of a potato and ground mutton dough, filled with cashew nuts, raisins, and pieces of boiled egg. Then there was a sweet and salty carrot salad. The main dish was a mutton and onion curry, which was amazing beyond words. We ate it with rice and roti.
The fun part of this dinner is that all the women ate out of communal large plates on the floor of the living room. We split into two groups around two different plates, and Auntie put the food on each plate and we devoured it with our hands. I'm proud to say I've just about mastered eating food with only my right hand. It all seems to taste better when eaten with your hands anyway.
Dal and Cow Dung
Yesterday, I went to the field again with my coworkers at KVK. Once a season, KVK holds a "Field Day" in one of the villages. They choose a farmer whose crop has grown well and will give good output at harvest time, and they gather all the other farmers in the area so they can discuss and learn from the one farmer what specific techniques he used to make his crop do so well.
Yesterday, I went to the field again with my coworkers at KVK. Once a season, KVK holds a "Field Day" in one of the villages. They choose a farmer whose crop has grown well and will give good output at harvest time, and they gather all the other farmers in the area so they can discuss and learn from the one farmer what specific techniques he used to make his crop do so well.
So we were scheduled to head out at 9am. Of course, the "condemned jeep" had some issues so we didn't get going until 9:30/9:45ish. We arrived at the selected site for the Field Day in the village Kempur. There on the farm is a small Hindu temple dedicated to a diety in the form of a black cobra, but I can't remember the Hindi name. It is very pretty and simple, and we sat under the tall columns on the cool stone. There were about 7 or 8 farmers there already, and they were busily cooking our lunch. I asked my coworker Dr. Seni what time the farmers were supposed to come, and he answered, "Yes, they are coming now." So we wait, and wait. Farmers slowly trickle in. We drink chai, chai, and more chai.
Meanwhile I watched the farmers cook dal bati, which are balls of lentils and wheat flour. It is very traditional Rajasthani food, and sure enough, they cooked it the very traditional way - in cow dung ashes. First they gathered cow dung patties, lit the pile on fire, and then when all was burnt, they burried the dal bati balls in the ashes for them to bake. Then I watched the men take out the dal bati and beat them with rags until they are free of ashes, more or less. Then they soaked them in ghee.
The food was not finished until about 2:30, at which point we started the Field Day. Scientists from KVK spoke for about thirty minutes about farming techniques for mustard seeds. I sat in the back with all the women, who paid no attention to the talks, but instead played with my bangles and attempted to talk to me in Hindi. I loved it.
We finally ate at 3:30. Though I had brought my own lunch (my supervisor had told me to because I would not like the food), I knew there was no way I could pass up this meal. How many times in my life will I get an opportunity to eat traditional dal bati cooked in a cow dung fire in a Rajasthani village? I also knew that all the food was kneaded and cooked with the farmers' bare hands, and since there was no soap in these villages, I knew I would probably get sick. (And I know some certain Aunties of mine in the United States are shaking their heads at me right now, but I don't care.) My decision was made. I dove fingers first into the food, and it was delicious. There was also a very spicy soup to dip the dal bati in, which made it even better. And, there was another dish called churma, another traditional Rajasthani food, made from wheat flour. It was a very sweet, dessert-like crumble. Wheat flour was mixed with a lot of sugar and nuts and raisins and ghee. I couldn't get enough of it.
To finish off the meal, they served chach, a salty buttermilk with cumin seeds that happily cooled my mouth after the spicy soup. It's not my favorite, but they say it is good for digestion, so I drink it sometimes.
I'm pleased to say that it's been over twenty-four hours, and I'm still a healthy girl!
Churma
Dal bati
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