~*Somanapur Baiga Tola*~
Somanapur, the quintessential Baiga tola set at the southern periphery of Kanha wildlife preserve, served as a prime example of enduring traditions. This encounter came at the 14th day of my research, and most serendipitously, it was found the day after I came across Elwin Verrier’s study from the 1930s, entitled, The Baiga. As I walked through the village, it was as if I stepped back into a period during Verrier’s lifetime, when many of the Baiga were will very much living just as their ancestors. The housing, dress, lifestyle and traditions seemed to have jumped from the page and taken life in this secluded refuge. Every house was lined right next to each other, as was described in the book to exemplify their strong sense of community. This village has been set here for at least four generations, yet many of the Baiga women who have come here by marriage, are descendent from Kanha wildlife park.
When we arrived, many of the Baiga barely turned their heads to see us, showing a disinterest for outsiders that is very much in their nature. After some time, we were able to convince a group of about twenty or so to come talk with us. We walked down the road in a mass of bright colors and silver jewelry glistening in the sun.
When we arrived, many of the Baiga barely turned their heads to see us, showing a disinterest for outsiders that is very much in their nature. After some time, we were able to convince a group of about twenty or so to come talk with us. We walked down the road in a mass of bright colors and silver jewelry glistening in the sun.
The first to show warmth and hospitality was Sudiaby Durway, who made it a point to sit next to be and make contact through the touch of her hand. With a childlike face that shown through the wrinkles, she spoke with much confidence and conviction. She was not a native to this land, and had been married to her husband some 50 years back before. She has come from Dudarva Ghari, Balaghat which was once a jungle settlement but since many years back the forest department has pushed out her family and tribe. In dress she was very much like all of the other women, wearing a heavy set of 5-15 beaded necklaces which she says that they all design and make themselves. First they buy the beads and cotton string in the market, and each necklace takes about 2-3 days to make.
They cloth lubra they wear loosely draped around their tiny frames resembles a doti and is only one cloth about 8 hands long. The blouse some of them wear under their lubras resembles the tops that most Indian women will wear under a Sari, and is not a traditional part of the Baiga attire. They may have started to wear these because of contact with other communities and/or in an attempt to appear more modest perhaps due to outsiders suggestions in the past. Nearly every woman's hair was wrapped up in a large bun with colorful yarn. The silver that hung from their ears and wrists had been given to them at their marriage, or passed down from their mothers and grandmothers. I was very surprised to see them all wearing their good jewelry so casually, but a feast we would later attend offered an explanation.
All of the women’s tattoo were as depicted in the illustration in the book, unlike many of the ladies of other villages, who would have only relatively small symbols on their hands, ankles, and forearms. In addition to the universally found forehead marks, these woman all had full sleeves with bold, dramatic marks and patterns make up of thick lines and circles. Here one could find no flowers, or names written in Hindi script, only designs that had little symbolic significance other than means of décor and increased desirability of the female body.
Like most of the men of his community, Dasra Singh Durway has grown his hair to nearly his lower back by never cutting it. This display is a Baiga man’s means of acquaintance and is a long standing tradition. Will keep the hair in a knot tied above the forehead and then wrapped in a scarf which resembles a turban. A man sitting alongside of a house once had long hair which was now kept short, because once his father died, he cut it in observation of custom. Any of the men here who have short will have lost their father. Both ears were pierced in observance of a custom to which they could not place the origin.
In typical Baiga fashion, they are almost daily going to the forest to collect bamboos and the make the products for selling. They venture into the periphery zone of Kanha forest which is only ½ km from where they live. Technically, no one is allowed to go into the forest because it is the buffer zone of the highly protected region. They have been beaten for venturing in, put in prison, or asked for bribes, but this does not stop them. They go in 2-3 km deep to reach the bamboos which are dense and ripe. Sometimes they collect honey, and the Gunia of the village and his son know which plants to pick for herbal treatments.
For selling their produce, villagers will wander and cry out into all the settlements they pass with the bundles of log and bamboo as, they hardly ever go to the market for this purpose of selling because it is nearly 13 km away. Just as was the best case scenario for all of the other Baiga I met during the study, they own their own land for residential purposes but the land that they farm on, they lease on a contract basis. I was surprised to hear that their ancestors were also farming on the plains, and they learned these skills by hereditary means. This was the first village in which Baiga were farming not by the influence of other castes, but Crops include ice, kodo, kudki and Miaze. While in the midst of a debate, without warning many started to stand and walk back off down the road. It seems that there was to be a feast that all members were to attend.
As we followed the villagers down the long stretch of road, the story of the meal began to surface. We came across, Sunput Sing Maram, who had organized the feast as a ritual of purification after having betrayed the isolated culture of the Baiga. He had become a member of a Church in Guri to convert to Christianity. He was persuaded to convert by missionaries who promised him that they would heal his chronic joint pain. He says that they only prayed and offered him no cure or medicine to treat the symptoms. It is custom that if a member of the community leaves for any long length of time or adopts another culture that upon returning, one must host and finance a feast for the whole village. Otherwise they do not collect daily like this to eat, and will eat as individual families, unless there is a festival.
For selling their produce, villagers will wander and cry out into all the settlements they pass with the bundles of log and bamboo as, they hardly ever go to the market for this purpose of selling because it is nearly 13 km away. Just as was the best case scenario for all of the other Baiga I met during the study, they own their own land for residential purposes but the land that they farm on, they lease on a contract basis. I was surprised to hear that their ancestors were also farming on the plains, and they learned these skills by hereditary means. This was the first village in which Baiga were farming not by the influence of other castes, but Crops include ice, kodo, kudki and Miaze. While in the midst of a debate, without warning many started to stand and walk back off down the road. It seems that there was to be a feast that all members were to attend.
As we followed the villagers down the long stretch of road, the story of the meal began to surface. We came across, Sunput Sing Maram, who had organized the feast as a ritual of purification after having betrayed the isolated culture of the Baiga. He had become a member of a Church in Guri to convert to Christianity. He was persuaded to convert by missionaries who promised him that they would heal his chronic joint pain. He says that they only prayed and offered him no cure or medicine to treat the symptoms. It is custom that if a member of the community leaves for any long length of time or adopts another culture that upon returning, one must host and finance a feast for the whole village. Otherwise they do not collect daily like this to eat, and will eat as individual families, unless there is a festival.
The congregation settled together with some order but in a seemingly chaotic manner, they served each other and drank mahua
wine out of leaf cups.
wine out of leaf cups.
The elder ladies are served first, but as a guest I was offered chicken before the ceremony began. Elder men and middle aged men came next, then mothers with babies and young women, and last the children. Kawal Singh Partay spoke to me while I was alone and with no translator for a about 5 minutes with such somber sincerity, and I could only mirror his facial expressions and gesture encouragingly. A man by the bent but not broken tree with wild eyes, penetrated mine with a drunken fever. Inquiry, obscenities, contempt, distrust.
Sudiaby hollers for a second helping of rice, men will liquor gorged bellies eat sluggishly. Sunput is the one serving the meat. Symbolic of his rendered service to the community. At last the leaf plates are cleared and a scruffy village dog with sweet eyes is selected as the recipient of the leftovers. With satisfied stomachs and Mahua soaked minds elder woman splash water buckets on each other in play.
Sudiaby hollers for a second helping of rice, men will liquor gorged bellies eat sluggishly. Sunput is the one serving the meat. Symbolic of his rendered service to the community. At last the leaf plates are cleared and a scruffy village dog with sweet eyes is selected as the recipient of the leftovers. With satisfied stomachs and Mahua soaked minds elder woman splash water buckets on each other in play.
After the feast, we wandered to sit outside the house, without an offer to enter the house, of Kisan Singh Parte who is a farmer on his own field. His wife, Janipy Parte also participates in agricultural practices. The wives seem to never go by Singh even if their husband has this surname, perhaps it is only passed on to male offspring. Both the Kisan’ and Janipy’s ancestors come from this village. The family has all of the ration cards, tribe certificate as the surpanch and Panchiate arrange all of these things. The 2011 Census have come to take their information. Says that because he was not registered to vote he would have had to bribe the officer with 50 rupees, but he refused.
While we were musing about the socio-economic conditions in the village, the conversation was once again interrupted by the stirrings of a villager, accept this time it was in the form of dance. Mergu Kumar Marai- Gunia of the village, came as a storm without warning, waving his arms in the air and stamping his feet in which hung musical rings around the ankles. When he stopped he immediately demanded that we pay him, but then lost interest and wished to tell us about himself. His family all dancers, and Gunias by occupation. He does magic and will often go on tour to Jabalpur, Baihar, and further to perform rituals of healing and voodoo. Says that he can turn a man into a woman, even kill someone by magic. Propositions that he can kill someone for me if I would like but it is very costly. His son is But Singh Marai and it is he who knows what forest plants to pick for pain and ailments. Get the knowledge for the ingredients for the concoction in their dreams. He says that he can also cure malaria in the deserving candidate.
Rampati Marawi , the only one dressed in a Kurta Sarwal, in the whole village, most likely an influence of her school hostel, is in her last year of pre-college school -12th standard. Her favorite subject is Science. During semester he lives in a hostel in Bilsa. She can read and write Hindi unlike the rest of her family. She wishes to become a teacher in order to come back and educate the children in her native village.
As it turn out, she and only a handful of young villagers have been the first to be recipients of education higher than 5th standard. A primary school came there before 15 years ago and before that that there was no formal education. Issues that they still face include implementing the mid-day-meals schemes and providing other incentives for the children to go to school. Since most parents will travel to the jungle daily, there is often no one to see to it that they are not ditching. One woman Basantuby Marawi, seems to have taken up the job of watching the children, yet says that she must work during the rainy season on her families plot of land.
On the subject of panchayat governance, it turns out that the nearly the entire body is comprised of elder women members, which explains the sign of respect of being served first at the feast. Sumitra Marcam is their female panchayat leader, who they all seem to hold in high regard. Harivali, Divali Pola, Holi which they celebrate with all their enthusiasm. The believe in their traditional Gods and do not recognize any of the Hindu deities. They worship thrisols in the house, if any image, which evoke the weapon and symbol of the mother goddess, but the village does not have a temple. As a last refreshing anecdote, and as night fell upon the land, in unison all members were apt to offer that they also worship the rivers and land, and will even pray for forgiveness to the bamboo they cut and the animals they eat.