Day 11 in Chennai

street goat munchin

I would like you to envision your daily routine: rolling out of bed in the morning, having breakfast, typing in the office, running errands, chatting with a neighbor, picking up your kids from school, making dinner, settling down to a book or the paper. Now I would like you to envision going about this very day, but in heat that would test even the most enthusiastic Bikram attendees. This is life in southern India before the monsoons. 

My mind and body have been in a haze--I'd say that an 'angst-ridden-sweaty-lethargy' sums up my first week and a half in Chennai. Have you not heard of it? It is when you lie under fans as if you were attending mandatory prayer morning, noon, and night. When you wake up to the feeling like your innards are cooking along with the burning trash and fresh chai brewing on the streets below. When the spice in your belly from a fresh masala dosa covered in coconut chutney with bits of red chili flakes like the way granite is speckled rummages through your intestines like embers of a dwindling fire and you chug liters of water only to watch it immediately evaporate out of you through pores you didn't even realize existed. You feel like fainting with any sudden movement and like sleeping with any lull of activity. Hunger flies out the window with most other bodily functions besides the incessant need to hydrate. Needless to say, the tepid heat is extreme down here, and the locals just smile at your soggy kurti and sullen mien.

I can finally say, at the close of day 11 that I am finally getting my energy back and feeling more accustomed to the climate. My first weekend was spent at Premavasem Orphanage on the outskirts of Chennai-- the 4th biggest city in India with a population of about 6 million. Did you hear that Montana? 6 times as many people as the 406 squeezed into probably one hundredth of the square kilometers. Of course these numbers are paltry compared to Delhi, of around 21 million and counting. There are so many people here! And you can feel it, vibrating through each jam-packed city street and alleyway. Even in the villages you drive past, chai-wallahs are all booming with business, customers donning the classic Tamil sarong-style wrap of all respectable gentlemen. Women are mostly in vibrantly colored saris, with a rope fresh-jasmine flowers tied in their slick-black braids. The people are much darker down here, many of them assume I am from the North because of my lighter tan skin, punjabi-style salwar kameez, and hindi tattoo. Obviously I crush any assumptions as soon as I open my mouth, usually with the words, "Sorry I don't speak Tamil."

Tamil is the official language of this state, Tamil Nadu; it is also the national language in Sri Lanka, Malaysia, and Singapore. Locals claim it is the oldest spoken language in the world; historians date it back around 2000 years. This language and Tamil's rich culture originates from the Dravidian civilization, original inhabitants of north India who were pushed south by Aryan tribes from Afghanistan and Central Asia around 1500 BC. On paper it looks like professional swirlies neatly organized in a row punctuated with occasional dots and swoops. In other words, the most beautiful doodly gibberish--I reckon every Tamil person could get good work as a calligrapher in the states. Dr. Suess would have died to hear the way these people twist their vowels and flip their consonants. All I keep thinking is, "Joke's on you all those days in Spanish class you bitched about erroneous vocab, at least you had the same alphabet for pronunciation!"

Trupti and Akbar

Back to the orphanage, Premavasem. I was accompanied by Rachel, a volunteer from Nashville, in a maddeningly long rickshaw excursion. The driver nodded enthusiastically when we handed him the paper with the address (in Tamil, mind you), "yes!yes! getin! 150 madame! getin!" We should have known the price was too good to be true. We got lost in peak traffic and were charged double what it would have cost to hire a private car--hence, live and learn! Always double, no, triple confirm your rickshaw driver understands where you want to go and negotiate a price BEFORE you get in.

We were greeted with a wave of kids shrieking, "Welcome sister! Which country? Which country? Sister!" They wrapped a garland of jasmine around my neck and gifted me with janglin' bangle anklets, murmuring, "Welcome akka," the tamil word for big sister, "we are so blessed to have you here." I had merely laid my bag down when it was time for 'feeding.' Rachel guided me down a corridor past the main office, and into a room that wreaked of stale bodies and urine, the accommodation for disabled kids.

munchin on chappati and curried subji--

I was handed a plate of soggy rice and pointed in the direction of a child, twisting his already contorted limbs and shrieking as if this was the only sound he could force out, claiming his presence. I was told to sit with him between my legs while he lay on his back, eyes blankly staring back at me, the intermittent shrieks continued. I watched the others, mimicking how they balled up the rice (with their right hand only of course) and stuffed it into the other children's mouths. With shaky fingers, it seemed like I managed to get more food on the child's face, shirt, and my clothes than in his stomach. But the cries died down after a few bites and a child a few rows down from me was pushed to the side of his bed as he ferociously vomited up his dinner, blood and bile. I must have looked like a deer in headlights because the women shuffled me out of the room and told me to go 'take my meal' with the others. I peeked back to observe the scene, children squirming in their own food-scraps, urine, sweat, and feces, helpless in their own bodies as others tended to immediate needs in a chaotic, yet quotidian manner. This is how meals are handled at the orphanage-- first you feed the helpless, then you feed yourself. 

Idly and dosa with sambar and coconut chutney. YUMMM

Over the next few days, I observed their routine--interacted with the kids, attended a dance recital the girls put on, helped out in 'special school' and physio. The feeding got easier once you became a bit desensitized to the pungent influx of human odors. The people of the orphanage embraced me like family, calling me 'Kendallakka' and giving me hugs every morning. Selvyn, the founder of the orphanage, inquired about my tattoo, smiled and immediately pulled up his sleeve to show off a tattoo of Barack Obama on his bicep, "He is my hero," he mused. Selvyn would take my sticky hands after we gorged on fresh mango, exalting how life brings people together; he is the most genuine person I've ever met. He never married, which in India is almost sacrilege, choosing instead to dedicate his life to the children.

Me, Trupti, and Mynoor

After the orphanage I moved on to MCCSS, a social work organization I will be working with for the next few months. This organization is multi-faceted and should provide many opportunities to learn about how a foreign NGO tackles the very issues I am most passionate about. They have multiple projects at the moment all aimed at women's empowerment-- a family counseling center, a protection home, short-stay home, elder's home, microfinance federations founded by local women, self-help groups, and vocational training. The project I am most interested in is Ujjawala, the anti-trafficking department, aimed at the rescue, prevention, rehabilitation, and reintegration of victims of human trafficking. If you are unaware about human trafficking and how it works, take a gander on google. This method of organized crime is on the rise, soon to pass the illegal drug and arms trade markets in profit margins. Human trafficking is a unique business in that its resource, vulnerable humans, will never be depleted on a planet of over 6 billion people (or is it 7?). Young adults, particularly young women, ages 16-24, are often lured into the business by the promise of lucrative livelihood; sometimes they are betrayed by their boyfriends, husbands, or parents, who sell them to traffickers. 

some women from the prison--all victims of trafficking

Prostitution is the common line of work for trafficked victims in India, but globally trafficked victims also work as modern-day slaves in the service industry, agriculture, and for multinational corporations. A scenario observed often in the United States occurs when migrant women from Central America hire a 'guide' to help them cross the border who ends up trafficking them into farm labor jobs where they perform back-breaking work 24/7, all the while being told they are 'paying back their debt' accrued whilst crossing. Traffickers collect the checks while victims are kept in line via threats to hand them over to the authorities or burn their documentation.

women of the protection home

Many trafficked victims at the protection home here, at MCCSS, are far from home, with ladies from Nepal, Bangladesh, Kalkutta, Mumbai, Karnataka, and Andra Pradesh. Most of them grew up in small, poor villages where their prospects for social mobility were nonexistent. Some of them were lured into the sex industry by friends to make money. Some of them fled from domestic violence; some were sold by their parents--with girls usually seen as a financial strain with no benefit since they will be eventually married into another family entirely. One woman was targeted by her brother's friend. He wooed her, then manipulatively drugged her and video-recorded her rape--later showing it to her family. They beat her and threw her out of the house, telling her to never return. She, not knowing her boyfriend was the culprit of the unrest, turned to him for help. He suggested that they run away together to Bangalore and sold her into the flesh trade, promising he would meet her at the destination.

Another woman, only 18 years old from Bangladesh, fell in love and married a Muslim man who already had a wife and child (Muslim men are permitted by the Quran to be married to 3 different women). Her parents hesitantly agreed to the matrimony seeing as their daughter was elated and the man seemed to be of good status. Soon after their wedding, her new husband suggested they go on a trip to India together, she cheerfully agreed. After preparations were made, he stuffed her in a car, broke her mobile SIM card and bagged her head while paying a lady trafficking broker to take her to Chennai for sex work. She cried to the trafficker in Bengali, her only language, and in reply was threatened with a pistol. A team of MCCSS staff, along with members from the Crime Investigations Bureau organized a rescue operation of this girl in Madurai, a city near Chennai. Two social workers from MCCSS posed as a trafficked girl from North India and a man trying to sell her for sex to a renowned broker. Upon payment, the police swept in and arrested the trafficker, taking the young Bengali girl into custody of the state. Charged with prostitution offenses, she was sent to Vigilance Home, a women's prison in Chennai. MCCSS petitioned to bring her into the protection home with the hope of rehabilitating and eventually reintegrating her with her family one day. 

A woman in the prison

She has been in the protection home for a few months, but has trouble communicating with the staff as she speaks only Bengali and some Hindi after learning it from her work. She has no way of contacting her family in Bangladesh since she doesn't have their mobile numbers; she has no address since she lived in a slum. MCCSS has had contact from various 'family-members' who we've found out to be traffickers trying to get her back. The danger with reintegration is verifying that the family didn't sell the victim in the first place, or ensuring that home is even a safe place for them to go. Sometimes social workers in other parts of India are paid off to report that the woman has made it home, when in reality she was merely sold into the flesh trade again. We just recently got contact with a social worker in Kolkutta who claims to be familiar with the case and her family, but processes such as these are held up by red tape like molasses; it will surely be a long time until she can prospectively be accompanied back to her village. This particular young eighteen year old, who is no taller than my 10 year old brother, with bright amber eyes and a contagious grin, is lost among the thousands and thousands of rescued trafficked women who are unable to find security again in a world of harsh poverty and rampant corruption.

the women in vocational training

the staff of MCCSS

Chennai is a big transport hub for trafficking in India because it is strategically connected to major cities by air, train, bus, and sea. The drastic change in language from the North helps keeps victims under control in brothels since they can't communicate with locals or coordinate an escape. As described before, MCCSS intercepts the victims with calls from the police and the Criminal Investigation Bureau who accompanies undercover social workers into the brothels. Sometimes women are arrested in the streets and brought to MCCSS, sometimes they are referred by locals for counseling. The organization is very reputable for its work with women and the empowerment of urban slum dwellers in the city. Once with MCCSS, women can stay at the protection home for up to 3 years, where they receive therapy, vocational training, medical care, legal aid, education and social support within the agency. Most of them express a desire to return to their families, but are unable to locate or contact them without phone numbers or even an address--there aren't conveniently marked mailboxes in the slums or rural villages of India and Southeast Asia. They often find work in service industry jobs around Chennai, with MCCSS's help in contacting employers, filling out applications, boosting their self-confidence and customer service skills. Some women escape and return to the business; some get re-trafficked in their attempts to return home--it is a difficult cycle. Whenever possible, MCCSS will initiate contact with the young woman's family, if she desires this, and proceed to reintegrate her back into her home society. Most of the time the family never finds out that she was trafficked, as the girls will lie out of shame--claiming they ran away for better work or followed a friend to the city. In India, marriage is seen as the apex of one's achievement in life.  Reputation is everything, especially for women. No one wants to marry a trafficked victim of the flesh trade.

Guru, my favorite little Nepali boy

One difference between this NGO and one like the YWCA-Missoula, who I worked with before coming here, is the lack of boundary between personal and professional. Everyone, clients, orphans, directors, and social workers are like a big family. Work and home life is very much intertwined, so much so that the director of the program also lives at the protection home so that she can better counsel the women and girls who live there. The short-stay home where orphans and runaways live is just downstairs next to the main offices. I share a room on the top floor with Georgie, a Kiwi student from Christchurch. The kids often barge into our quarters after they get home from school, "Hello sister! Dance party! Come!" They drag us downstairs and teach us bollywood moves or braid our hair, asking about our family and whether we have boyfriends.

I am still getting oriented to the programs, being taken to the protection home to interact with the survivors, hear their stories, and learn from their resilience. On my first day, I bounced into the office at 9:00am on the dot, ready to be put to work. Luckily I brought my book as 9:30.....10:00...10:15 rolled around when my supervisor casually strolled up on his bicycle. He finished his breakfast at the desk by 10:45 and we chatted till about 11:00. The Indian way of doing business is very relaxed--after reading 2 or 3 files of the women I was told to, "Go, take rest, and come back in the afternoon once you've taken lunch." Me, of course very schedule oriented asked, "Well, what time is lunch over?" They waved their hands at me, "Go, go. We will meet in the afternoon--2..2:30. Yes. Yes, take rest."

I am eager to spend the next few months with this organization, soaking up as much of their knowledge and methods as I can.  I am recognizing that Indians build relationships before they do business. And all of this 'sitting around' as I sometimes feel has a purpose in that I am establishing rapport with the people here. Sometimes the greatest moments of learning happen in those empty moments between tasks and conversation, when you shyly giggle to fill the space or let it be, opening up opportunities for nuanced cultural exchange. 

with the women of a local self-help group

cuties

at a self-help group federation meeting

what I wake up to :)

boys at the short stay home, killin it

me in my general sweatiness....georgie's look of disgust before our meal-- a 'bread omlette'

Women and Conservation--Zooming out from the Garhwal

 

India is a place of extremes, from geographic relief to health disparity, from chaotic traffic to rigid social norms. The land and the climate reflect the dynamic social biomes of this society— the gender divide as sharp as the altitude change from dry plains to Himalayan summits. Throughout the field course with the University of Montana, women were always in the shadows of conversation, readings, and also in the villages. Yet their presence was felt immensely in the carefully tended fields, in the freshly swept village alleys, in the faces of healthy children.   

From my experience in India beyond the Himalaya, I have come to see femininity as an intensely revered, yet ironically undermined social force. Women are seen as mysterious, pure beings that need safeguarding. At the root of Indian culture is an intense respect for the mother figure as a giver and protector of life, but the harsh reality is that women are seriously devalued and face daily oppression from societal norms. 

This paper will seek to explore women's roles in conservation in the Garhwal, as well as throughout India, by providing a brief history of the status of women, identifying women's specific role in agriculture and conservation activities, over viewing the gendered nature of conservation and development, as well as extrapolating this case study to other examples of women's key roles in conservation throughout India. I seek to make the argument that empowered, participating women are essential for the healthy functioning of any ecosystem, village and society.

The history of the status of women in India is unique in that there was once a time when women held equitable status with men. During the Rig Vedic age, women had full freedom for spiritual and intellectual development; they could become educated, choose their husbands, and even lead religious activities (Hussain 2012). Women were honored as givers of life; in this regard, nature was seen to be feminine since the life of the people was seen to be intrinsically linked with the life-cycles of nature. 

Hindu's called this primordial feminine energy pakriti, literally meaning 'nature.' In their philosophy, pakriti is expressed through shakti, the divine mother, believed to be the creative power of the universe. Shakti is manifested through goddesses, Parvati and Laksmi, the feminine counterparts to gods, Shiva and Vishnu, as representations of purusha, the opposing male energy (Karshik and Sharma 2011). In the Garhwal, the worship of Nanda Devi, believed to be the physical incarnation of Parvati, or shakti, is an example of this culture’s traditional, religious understanding of femininity as represented by nature in tribal society. 

Many things contributed to the downward spiral of women's status in Indian society: feudalism, Moghul invasions introducing practices of purdah, sati, dowry, and child marriage, colonization, and globalization (Hussain 2012). There is the eco-feminist argument as presented by Merchant (1992), that patriarchy, as linked with western culture, is responsible for perpetuating themes of dominance over women and nature alike—that they have both been considered subordinates by men throughout history. On a more macro-level, one could argue that pressures faced by Garhwali women—environmental degradation, corporate manipulation, rampant poverty, and loss of village autonomy—are a result of western dominance and influence over India, as a representation of patriarchy itself.  

In conversations with experts on the area of the Garhwal, I came to understand how, in the traditional past, a mountain woman's role was particularly independent and powerful, given the dynamic livelihood of transhumant agropastoralism practiced by the villagers. When men shepherded their herds into Tibet or into the high-alpine meadows, women dictated life in the everyday village, empowering them in comparison to sedentary societies where gender roles are more distinct (Nautiyal, Rao, Maikhuri, and Saxena 2003). 

Nowadays, women are taxed with stresses similar to other villages throughout India, walking the tight-rope between burgeoning modernity and traditional subsistence. While their children are migrating to cities in search of a better education and their men are pursuing alternative livelihoods away from home, women hold down the fort in the midst of cascading top-tier tumult. During my observations and in research, I have received the impression that village folk, especially women, feel helpless to volatile forces beyond their control. They remain in the dark as to grand-scale development initiatives, infrastructural projects and beyond. As foundations for villages that have existed for thousands of years, they are simply trying to manage in the face of unexplained environmental shifts and obstinate government policies. 

Yet despite their exasperation, Garhwali women have responded to institutional oppression with inspiring vigor. The most famous example of resistance to damaging outside forces has been the 'Chipko Movement,' where, in the absence of men, women rose up together to resist corporate logging efforts by wrapping themselves around trees and singing (Zurick and Kuran 2000). Many scholars believe this movement to be the beginning of ecofeminist social activism, but a local described to me the village's conception of the women's actions as being born out of mere necessity, as opposed to a moral defiance against patriarchy, given that the lives of the women and that of their families were utterly dependent on the health of their forests (Merchant 1992). Garhwali women also initiated petitions for better representation during the creation of the state of Uttarakhand and are also focusing efforts to raise awareness about the effects of ubiquitous hydro-electric projects in the area. 

The robust activism of Garhwali women is a quintessential representation of women's sensitivity to environmental issues in action, but I argue, along with Torri (2010), that this sensitivity is born out of their roles in society as opposed to some intrinsic 'connection' to nature. In the words of Arya, Mittal and Samra, "there is hardly a [village] activity in which women play no part;"(1998:175) in general, they are responsible for production and reproduction--literally, food and babies. 

Usually, women deal with non-monetized subsistence activities such as collecting water, firewood, and fodder, managing cow dung and crop wastes, maintaining small gardens, animal husbandry, foraging for non-timber forest products, and rearing children, among other household chores (Karshik and Sharma 2011). In a project conducted by Singh and Swaminathan (2002) in Tamil Nadu, South India, they found that women play key roles in harvesting, threshing, seed selecting, winnowing, and maintaining proper storage facilities for crops, post-harvest. Chandra, Rakesh, and Kandari (2009), noted that in the Garhwal, women were responsible for almost all agricultural and household duties apart from heavy-duty land preparation, although they found that male contribution increased with altitude seeing as men closer to the plains had more job options.

Despite their vast responsibilities, most women in farming villages in India are illiterate, disempowered and overworked (Ayra 2007). On average, women work for 3,495 hours on a one-hectare farm where a man works 1,212. Women, as compared to men, provide 70% of overall agricultural labor, 60-80% in total household labor, 100% in processing basic food stuffs, 80% in food storage and transport from farm to village and 90% in water and fuel wood collection--with average days of 14-16 hours (Arya, Mittal, and Samra 1998, Rani 2004 as cited in Arya 2007).

Women's roles are the bedrock of Indian society, but their efforts are not accounted for in the grand economic or social schemes, giving them little leeway in decision making processes with regards to conservation. However, it is well known that the weight of environmental degradation is carried disproportionately by women-- the depletion of resources or of soil productivity means more drudgery and longer hours to produce less food; deforestation means longer distances for women to travel for firewood; watershed depletion/disruption increases efforts to meet household water needs (Arya, Mittal, and Samra 1998, Zurick and Kuran 2000). In the words of Zurick and Kuran (2000:197), "households cope with ecological stress by utilizing more female labor." It is cyclical—a society that devalues women undermines the main energy input for the family, weakening community resilience, enhancing vulnerability to poverty, and in turn, increasing environmental degradation with subsistence pressures. And while women's vital roles in daily maintenance of natural resources are seemingly intuitive, there is an impressive dearth of research and initiative aimed at involving women in the conservation process; for this, there are many reasons (Agarwal 2009, Torri 2010). 

For one, large scale data doesn't sufficiently account for the extent of women's involvement; they are often excluded from the census, with much of their work considered economically unviable (Arya 2007). It also seems there is a trend for data collection in India to be initiated, conducted, and answered by only men. According to Ogra (2012), who interviewed various conservation-oriented NGO's throughout India as to whether they included women's empowerment and gender issues in their project planning and implementation, many (mostly male) NGO supervisors ran under the assumption that incorporating men, as 'heads of the house,' was sufficient because gender wasn't relevant to their efforts. 

In the words of Arya (2007:210): "A basic constraint on women's access to extension in agriculture is due to the general perception that women are primarily homemakers rather than decision-making farmers." So, while many NGO's and governmental initiatives operate under the guise of 'gender equality,' in reality their efforts are often culminated into mere awareness camps that females are often unable to attend. The aforementioned assumption, however unwarranted, is a deep-rooted obstacle to women's empowerment in India (Ayra 2007, Torri 2010). 

Conservative cultural norms and insane daily workloads constrain women's participation in the public, political sphere (Agarwal 2001, Arya 2007). Women often find out about conservation projects or governmental interventions on their land by proxy of their husbands. With a lack of information on current rules or threats to their resources women are kept in the dark, often unknowingly violating rules established by park managers or village leaders and further entrenching the ideology that women are unfit to manage conservation schemes (Agarwal 2009, Pandey 2005, Torri 2010). 

 Land ownership is another huge barrier to conservation efforts. And while females can legally own land under the Indian constitution, inheritance of titles is patrilineal. The majority of women do not own land, giving them less sway over resource management and denying them access to credit (Arya 2007, Chandra, Rakesh, and Kandari 2009, Singh and Swaminathan 2002). In the words of Agarwal:

Land defines social status and political powers in the village and it structure relationships both within and outside the household. Yet for most women, effective rights in land remain elusive, even as their marital and kin support erodes and female-headed households multiply. In legal terms, women have struggled for and won fairly extensive rights to inherit and control land in much of South Asia, but in practice most stand disinherited. Few own land, even fewer can exercise effective control over it (Agarwal 1994:56).

Even though they may not control or own the land they toll, women have a high level of awareness about environmental resource management given their direct contact with water, food, and fuel sources; when these sources are threatened by environmental degradation and globalization, women recognize it as an immediate threat to their survival (Chandra, Rakesh, Kandari 2009, Karshik and Sharma 2011). Women's knowledge of the land and its nuanced patterns differs from that of men. According to Singh and Swaminathan (2002), women's involvement in seed selection has given them extensive experience in ideal growing conditions, nutritional characteristics, and productivity of specific seed species. Women also are more informed about firewood and fodder species—those that smoke or cause indigestion in the animals (Agarwal 2009). 

Research has shown that women's decision making processes in agriculture are guided by concerns with food security, whereas men are drawn to put their energies into cash crops. Similarly, women are more likely to invest in family needs when given capital (Arya 2007, Singh and Swaminathan 2002). Women’s motives are a result of their roles as caretakers of the family and the farm, the village and the environment; they must be acknowledged as key stakeholders and participants for a sustainable future.  

Numerous studies are showing how, when women's roles are seriously considered and capitalized on, conservation efforts blossom. Pandey demonstrated in the Great Himalayan National Park, Himachal Pradesh, how forming Women's savings and credit groups decreased villager’s dependence on the park’s natural resources through alternative livelihood projects. Park managers and women leaders worked together in building up a range of projects funded with money saved by micro-finance groups. They found a balance between conservation and ‘livability’ in the park zone (Pandey 2005). 

Agarwal's research in Gurjurat and rural Nepal showed that the correlation between women's involvement in forest protection groups and village councils is statistically significant to the health and improvement of surrounding forests. She stipulated that women's involvement increased forest protection because the pool of engaged citizens enlarged, women felt more responsible for the forest when they were a part of decision-making, it created a stage for women to share their knowledge of plant species, and also it helped instill a conservation ethic in children, instigating sustainable change for generations to come (Agarwal 2009).

In the words of a village woman during a conversation with Agarwal: "Just as we need both sexes to run the house so we need both sexes to protect the forest,"(Agarwal 2009:2785). If planning is essential to sustainable management of resources in the face of dynamic development, then we must look at who is at the table when decisions are being made. The recognition of women's prodigious involvement in agrodiversity is rudimentary to progress which benefits all community-members. Policies and projects must be drafted within gendered lines so that precious societal and environmental resources, women and water, forests and food, are not further marginalized. They should be owning land, and sharing wisdom and commanding presence in village councils, and organizing self-help groups, and accessing credit, and going to school, and reducing their back-breaking labor, and singing, and growing, and cuddling with their healthy babies, and making informed choices about their bodies, their food, their land, and most of all, being revered in their thriving communities as givers and protectors of life. Women not only 'hold up half the sky,' they are a current for ecological energy from soil to mouth to compost—and they must be a part of the process.

Works Cited

Agarwal, B. 2009. Gender and Forest Conservation: The Impact of Women's Participation in Community Forest Governance. Ecological Economics 68:2785-2799

Agarwal, B. 2001. Participatory Exclusion, Community Forestry, and Gender: An Analysis of South Asia and a Conceptual Framework. World Development 29(10):1623-1648. 

Agarwal, B. 1994. A Field of One's Own: Gender and Land Rights in South Asia. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, U.K. 

Arya, S.L., S. P. Mittal and J.S. Samra. 1998. Rural Women and Conservation of Natural Resources:Traps and Opportunities. Gender, Technology, and Development 2(2):167-185.

Ayra, S. L. 2007. Women and Watershed Development in India: Issues and Strategies. Indian Journal of Gender Studies 14(2):199-230.

Chandra, Kandari, and Rakesh. 2009. Role of Rural and Tribal Women in Conservation: Case Study Nanda Devi. Environment & We: An International Journal of Science & Technology :29-34

Hussain, F. 2012. Women's Empowerment: A Historical Profile in India. The Daily Times. Published online 11, August. Accessed July 3, 2013. see http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2012%5CO8%5C11%5Cstory  

Karshik, B. and R. Sharma. 2011. Role of Women in Environmental Conservation. Excel International Journal of Multidisciplinary Management Studies 1(2):162-167. 

Merchant, C. 1992. Radical Ecology: The search for a livable world. New York and London: Routledge, Chapman & Hall, Inc.

Nautiyal, S., Rao, K.S., Maikhuri, R.K., and K.G. Saxena. 2003. Transhumant Pastoralism in the Nanda Devi Biosphere Reserve, India. Mountain Research and Development 23(3):  255-262. 

Ogra, M.V. 2012. Gender Mainstreaming in Community-Oriented Wildlife Conservation:Experiences from Nongovernmental Conservation Organizations in India.  Society & Natural Resources: An International Journal. 25(12):1258-1276. 

Pandley, S. 2008. Linking ecodevelopment and biodiversity conservation at the Great Himalayan National Park, India: lessons learned. Biodiversity Conservation 17: 1543-1571.

Singh, R.B. and M.S. Swaminathan. 2002. Rural & Tribal Women in Agrobiodiversity Conservation: An Indian Case Study. FAO Office for Asia & the Pacific Research  Foundation. see http://www.fao.org/docrep/005/ac546e/ac546e04.htm#TopOfPage accessed July 29, 2013.  

Torri, M. C. 2010. Power, Structure, Gender Relations and Community-Based Conservation:the  Case Study of the Sariska Region, Rajasthan, India. Journal of International Women's Studies 11(4):1-18. 

Zurick, D. and Karan, P.P. 2000. Himalaya: Life on the edge of the world. Baltimore and London: The John Hopkins University Press.

36 pieces of advice

I don't know if you ever truly 'get your bearings' as a foreigner in India, but after my 8 week stint and counting, I definitely have a few 'how-to' survival tips, especially for female travelers. 

Rule #1- Always go to the bathroom when it is available. 

Seriously, India isn't the kind of country where you can stop on the side of the road; not even the high courthouse for the state of Tamil Nadu has bathrooms inside! And either Indian women all have bladder infections or they are camels because I never see them needing to use the toilet. Even after tromping around all over Chennai with Trupti, a fellow social worker from Orissa, in North India, for the entire day--she didn't use the bathroom once. Granted, she didn't eat or drink much either, but just a warning, always have a plan. Also, bring your own toilet paper. If you are in touristy areas, the bathrooms may have some at least in the nice hotels, but if you are in true India and you need TP--carry a purse. 

Rule #2- If you have the means, upgrade to A/C.

Don't underestimate the intensity of this country's climate. It is physically and emotionally demanding. Usually in hotels, the rooms with A/C are only a couple hundred rupees more--no less than $10.00. Before coming here I was determined to live like the locals and only have the basic amenities, but then I realized that I, too, have limits and when it is available, A/C in 110 degree heat makes me an easier person to be around.

Rule #3- Always be prepared for hours-long delays, or in other words, bring snacks. 

'Indian time' is a reputable phenomenon. Everything happens at a slower and unexpected rate, especially meals. If you are spending time, truly with the locals, you will often be taken on excursions without them telling you where you are going or for how long or what to expect; it is always safer to bring snacks if you don't feel comfortable eating street food or get 'hangry' easily. Indian people also don't eat dinner till around 8:30-9 or later, but they usually have a light snack around 5 with tea. I am often tempted to gorge myself at tea-time out of anxiety that there won't be food for ages or because I didn't get a chance to eat lunch. Trust me, it is better to save your appetite for the delicious dinners and get on the Indian schedule of eating. We all go to bed with full bellies.

Rule #4- If you don't like spicy food, don't come to India.

Sorry, not sorry. 

Rule #5- Public transportation is well worth exploring.

If you are staying in one place for some time, at least a month or so, you should get to know the bus and train systems. They are efficient and (usually) on-time. Most locals are eager to help--if you simply ask, they will point you in the right direction. Beware: out of Indian courtesy, people will never tell you, "I don't know," and they will spin bullshit so be sure to ask a few different people until you get some confident responses. 

Rule #6- Get used to your personal bubble being obliterated.

Public transportation is a great segue into this topic--India is crowded! Everywhere you go will be packed with people and if you are blessed with a Western stature, you will tower over a sea of black heads shining with coconut oil. People will bump into you, push you, rush for a space on the train and shove to get into a store--this is not considered rude, it is just the way you have to operate to get things done. Be assertive in your walk, the way you hold your space. And always find the ladies cart on the train or the ladies section in the bus. That way, when you are jammed, at least you'll be jammed against womanly bits and not be worried about getting groped. In reality, being polite gets you nowhere in India. 

Not only is it physically crammed but the culture itself is very touchy feely, especially within genders. When an Indian person likes you, if you are of the same gender and you most likely will be seeing at inter-gender interaction is kept at a minimum, they will be very affectionate, verbally and physically. Just go along with it! In Shantaram, a book by Gregory David Roberts, he writes a little excerpt on this in a dialogue between characters, 

"' No, no, you do not understand. You must be careful, here, with the real affection of those you meet. This is not like any other place. This is India. Everyone who comes here falls in love--most of us fall in love many times over. And the Indians, they love most of all....That is how they manage to live together, a billion of them, in reasonable peace. They are not perfect, of course. They know how to fight and lie and cheat each other, and all the things that all of us do. But more than any other people in the world, the Indians know how to love one another.'

He paused to light a cigarette, and then waved it like a little flagpole until the waiter noticed him and nodded to his request for another glass of vodka.

'India is about six times the size of France,' he went on, as the glass of alcohol and a bowl of curried snacks arrived at our table. 'But it has almost twenty times the population. Twenty times! Believe me, if there were a billion Frenchmen living in such a crowded space, there would be rivers of blood. Rivers of blood! And, as everyone knows, we French are the most civilized people in Europe. No, no, without love, India would be impossible.'"--(Ch 4 pg.85)

*Btw, I highly recommend this book to anyone traveling to India. It is thrilling and will give you a good grasp on the culture before you go. Better yet, read it while you are here and giggle at his accurate descriptions of silly nuances in culture. 

Rule #7- Don't even think about bringing your 500 and 1000Rs bills into the market.

Indians love exact change. So much so that if you hand someone a hundo, even for an item that costs over 50Rs, you will definitely get a roll of the eyes or they may simply turn you away, expecting you to return with the correct change. Even train stations have big signs at the ticket counter saying, "Exact Change Only." So go to the bank and get smaller bills, 10s, 20s, and 100s are the best bills to have.

Rule #8- Don't even trust the water at the Hilton.

It's all deadly.

Rule #9- When in doubt with tipping, a 10 or 20 should suffice for any service. I got many smily waiters after I routinely tipped like I do in the states, but I was told by a local that this is unnecessary, although always appreciated. 

Rule #10-Get used to being a haggard mess.

Yes, you will be sweaty, greasy, and unkempt while all other Indian women will be flawlessly wrapped in a clean neon or pastel colored sari, smelling of fresh jasmine, dripping in gold jewelry without so much as a bead of sweat on their brow---get over it. Besides, they are all jealous of your white skin, so there. 

Rule #11- The rice to sauce ratio is key for Indian style eating.

Yes, at one point you will be forced to eat with your right hand; just watch how the people around you smush and ball up their rice/saucy combo and plop it into their mouths. You will look like a small child with rice on your chin and stains on your kurti; those around you will stare or giggle, but hey, you're trying. 

Rule #12- Know your boundaries. 

India is an exhausting place, physically, mentally, socially, emotionally. Take your time with the country and its sometimes pushy people. India welcomes you like a family member and in that respect, sometimes it will annoy the hell out of you and inspire wondrous heartfelt connection in one fell swoop. Be sure to take space, and rest so you don't get burned out. After being here for a while I recognized how private of a person I am, in that I need my time to just simply 'be' in a quiet room to collect my thoughts or unwind. It's a cultural thing, people will respect you if you voice your needs. 

Most of all, you shouldn't be so scared of the place that you don't experience it. I mean, feeling sick or losing valuables or getting in a fight with a rickshaw driver over the tariff is all a part of the journey. Keep your humor about you and recognize the lesson in every screw-up. If you open your heart to India, you will be amazed at what this country and its people will give in return. 

 *Top 12 things to always have in your purse:

1. hand sani, obvi. Locals look at you like a crackpot, but sometimes you gotta look like an idiot to not get sick. 

2. TP or baby wipes unless you want to go local, which is honestly more sustainable. Hey, where do you think the French got the idea for a bedé?

3. bandana for sweat and other random needs

4. advil--the heat here always gives me headaches, as does dehydration and many other common travelers issues. You'll be glad you have it. 

5. dramamine--if not for the crazy driving, you'll need it to calm your nerves on a 12 hour bus ride sans A/C with blaring Bollywood music.

6. earplugs.....not earphones, although those are important aswell. Earplugs are essential when you are traveling by bus or train for long amounts of time--India is very loud.

7. small notebook and pen to write down helpful phrases people teach you, addresses, phone numbers, etc.

 

8. waterbottle....although you green folks will definitely have to get over buying bottled water. Sometimes you just have to. It is cheap and easier to get than filling up your own waterbottle in the cities. Just remember, India has a higher recycling rate than the U.S.--perhaps that will quell your irks.

 

9. small plastic bag to put trash in; there are no trashcans anywhere and I still cannot bring myself to litter like the locals. Of course the irony in saving your trash is that the maid who cleans your room is simply dumping it on the side of the streets anyways, but hey whatever helps us sleep at night, right?

10. a map of where ever the hell you are

11. pepper spray- I have honestly never been in a situation in India where I felt truly in danger, except maybe driving on sketchy roads in the Himalayas, but as a woman you really can never be too safe and pepper spray handy helps on those nights when you end up being out at night by yourself. 

12. passport sized photos of yourself and a copy of your drivers license, passport, and/or visa-- India uses passport sized photos for so many random things: getting a SIM card, going into certain government buildings or courthouses, sometimes getting a train ticket. Just stock up on them and have em handy so you don't have to go through the trouble of finding a local photography shop to take them for you here, although I'm sure it's way cheaper. Hotels often ask for a copy of your passport and visa, so having them is handy if you don't want to bring your passport on every weekend outing. 

*Top 12 things I packed:

1. Heat resistant probiotics and pepto-chewables are your new PB&J-- your belly will thank you. Take them even if you feel fine.

2. Manduka travel yoga mat. If you're here for extended periods of time, this is great because it is probably the only exercise you will get. Plus, there are ashrams and yoga studios everywhere! Be warned: leave your tight ass lululemons and Bikram crop-tops at home unless you plan on getting visually (or perhaps physically) molested before, during, or after class. 

3. SD card converter for computer or Ipad- this way you can steal or share fellow travelers pics easily, especially when you forget your camera like me.

4. Burts-bee's face wipes- things get real grimy down here. 

5. DivaCup- lets get real ladies. I became a convert after my first trip to India, just trust me. Also, there are no tampons in India, you heard me, NONE. Unless you are at a swanky supermarket in Mumbai, don't expect it. 

6. Bronner's soap- for laundry, hand wash, face wash, I hear you can even brush your teeth with it? super convenient. 

7. compression bags- especially if your in a backpack. Easy way to crumple all of your clothes down.

8. travel sheet- this has let me sleep sound in many a shady bed arrangements.

9. headlamp and/or small lantern. I use both regularly as power is not reliable in India, especially in Tamil Nadu. 

10. Phase10 or your favorite card game. There is a lot of leisure time here and games are a great way to pass the time or get to know those around you. Bring something that is easy enough to be taught in the face of language barriers.  

11. Pics of your friends, family, and home-town. Everyone will ask you about your family, pictures make them feel even more connected to you and will build rapport.

12. Watermelon sour patch kids to remind you of home before you become a total convert for Indian candy and ubiquitous biscuits. hint: try the little chocolate eclairs. 

Radioactive Devi

Fun story about the Himalayas and the Indian Government. As anyone who has spent time around Indians knows, they don't have the greatest relationship with the Chinese. After the Indo-Tibetan war in 1960's, the border was closed. Only recently have selective trade systems been opening up around the Himalayas, but the border situation is still very tense. During the 70's, in the golden age of mountaineering, the Indian government hired an expedition of elite climbers to work with the CSI and place a nuclear powered listening device at the summit of Nanda Devi to keep tabs on Chinese intelligence. Apparently the expedition went rogue because the device was left around advanced base camp, 'fastened to a ridge.' A team came in the next season to finish the operation only to find the ledge completely gone, most likely taken out by an avalanche, and with it, the device. The Indian army has spent the past few decades searching for it in the Nanda Devi biosphere reserve, but it is currently lost somewhere at the base of the mountain, which so happens to be the headwaters of the river system feeding the holy Ganges. This device is powered by two pounds of radioactive plutonium; if it leaks it could potentially poison a river system that over 100 million people access, not to mention the immense spiritual significance attached to these waters. My professor said he had a friend who was collecting samples in a higher village in the Himalayas where the water is already showing signs of radioactive deposits. Hopefully, the Indian government will choose to address their error with more reason than they applied to the first expedition. 

Chennai at a Glance

Mahabalipuram beach

Shore Temple, Mahabalipuram

In Mahabalipuram with Georgie, my Kiwi intern partner

Shiva Temple in Mylapore

I know!!! it has been too long since I have updated, but it turns out that finding wi-fi and not simply plain old internet cafes in South India is a Vatican-Certified miracle. I have posts queued up on my ipad, but in the mean time here is a glance at some photos off my phone.