Today’s adventure was a journey by car to the forest land near Vijaynagar. The purpose was to learn about the work of an NGO that Riddhi worked with called Disha, an organization that works for the rights of indigenous people around agriculture, land rights, and union issues. Our guide was Paulomee Mistry, daughter of the founder who now runs Disha. Along the way she educated us about tribal people, power, unions, agriculture, and her work. I wish I had recorded everything she said, she’s brilliant. One thing about power: “There are 4 types of power: financial power, physical power, intellectual power–and if you don’t have any of those, then the power you can achieve is by coming together, collective power.” (rough quote)

The three hour trip ended on a dusty path as we pulled up to the meeting house of several tribal communities in the area. Disha had sent out a message that there would be a meeting today. Imagine a farm. One cow out in the distance, a shed, a garden of fennel, an orchard with fruit trees of assorted kinds. The building is made of mud and decorated with a cornstalk design etched into the walls. We are escorted and introduced (namaste and bows) and then sit on a cushion facing a few men in chairs to the right and about 20 women in such color and design sitting on the floor. There’s quite an open space between the women and us, and it’s pretty quiet. And then the president of the association begins to tell the story of their work. I only understand the gestures and facial expressions as different people tell their stories (I have 3 people translating to keep me up to speed). But even without words, I can feel the passion, pride, and determination.

I don’t know enough to tell the story of how tribal people who live off the land have been exploited by the government. But the women who pick the tendu leaves that are made into a kind of cigarette, made 50 rupees or about $1 a day—climbing trees, picking and bundling the leaves. They have to climb 10 trees to fill the sari created pouch on their backs to make that goal. And the leaves are only harvested 12-14 days a year. So before NREGA which guarantees them 100 work days (they go the city and find work to be done), that’s all they had to live on.

So women came together and figured out actions to take and found their voices. They protested by refusing to pick the leaves, by blocking roadways—and in their 20 years of activity, no one has been hurt. They followed Ghandi’s principles of protest and have had successes. Their next planned action is for water.

I asked about their children. They started early childhood programs and made sure their children had the knowledge to fully participate when they started school. Now that the government provides these programs, they have parent committees that monitor the government schools. Women have also started a savings cooperative and no one has ever defaulted on a loan.

These are amazing stories and just great people. As the day wore on and people relaxed I noticed that they were now sitting pretty close to us—but I never saw anyone actually skooch forward. They sang two of their union songs—yes, they have a union songbook. The songs tell the story of what they have done and what women need to do to effect change.

We wanted to see the tendu trees so they took us out and did a demo of climbing, picking, stuffing. Everyone was relaxed by now so there was a lot of laughing, picking of fruit for us to taste, telling us things that only I didn’t get. And some photos. They really liked it when as they were singing (Riddhi made a movie) and I took some photos, I passed the camera around for them to see themselves.

And then the three hour journey home.

Sights along the way:
rock formations
highways
people picking cotton
green fields of corn and crops I couldn’t identify
crowds of people milling in market squares and along the road
the step well at Adalaj with all the elaborate carvings
camels pulling carts
one elephant
herds of cattle and water buffalo

and when we arrived back at the hotel:
7 monkeys lined up on the roof, even a baby monkey