Dreaming of desert life in Rajasthan

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It’s now six months since I left India to come back to Sydney and I’m dreaming of going back to Rajasthan.

In lieu of that, here is a series of shots I took while traveling through the desert state in October last year.

Graphic novels inspire silver screen storytelling

In the last decade cinemagoers have been hit with remakes of basically all the superheroes.

There’s been Batman, Spiderman, Iron Man, X men . . . the list goes on.

Hollywood has also turned to the darker graphic novels. Turning Frank Miller’s film noir comics into the successful Sin City.

For 2ser radio’s Final Draft I talked about the graphic novels that have made the journey from the page to the screen – starting with the comic book, V for Vendetta.

It’s 1997 in England and there has been a devastating nuclear war. The country is ruled by the voice of Fate and is listened in on and watched by what’s called the ears and the eyes. In the opening of this Orwellian drama we meet Evey Hammond a 16-year-old girl, who is rescued and then becomes friends with V – an anarchist in a Guy Fawkes mask.

What follows is political commentary on how a fascist regime can take control and what happens to people when they give away their freedom in exchange for what they see as safety. We see relationships fall apart, Nazi-style concentration camps and people basically losing their integrity.

When the film V for Vendetta came out in 2006 we were living in a post 911 world. There were horror stories about Guantanamo bay and new laws designed to protect us were stripping away civil liberties. The world dreamed up by Alan Moore and David Lloyd in the 1980s suddenly wasn’t so hard to imagine.

The movie is a slick production of the book and takes a lot of creative license. Moore famously distanced himself from the movie and requested that his name wasn’t listed in the credits. And you can see why, there are significant plot changes and central characters have been removed from the story altogether.

And yes, the film lacks the subtleties of the novel –it’s a little more, well, Hollywood. There are longer action scenes and less emphasis on what drives people to live under a repressive regime.

The film also builds on a sense of people power – while in the comic – V shows a greater disdain for the general public.

“You have encouraged these malicious incompetents who have made your working life a shambles. You have accepted without question their senseless orders. You could have stopped them . . . all you had to say was ‘no’. You have no spine. You have no pride.”

I found both the book and the movie to be pretty cheesy. But there is no denying that V makes for a charismatic and unique hero with a flair for the dramatics. This comes across extremely well on the big screen.

The French graphic novel Persepolis deals with very similar themes but steers away from the superhero style comic.

It’s the autobiography of Marjane Satrapi depicting her childhood and early adulthood in Iran during and after the Islamic revolution. She gives a unique perspective as the only child of committed Marxists and the great-granddaughter of one of Iran’s last emperors.

We meet her as a child convinced that she is to be the next prophet. Then we follow her through the terrors of the revolution and on to Vienna where as a teenager she lives away from her family in order to receive a proper education.

Here she falls in love, grows up, battles with drugs, and even briefly becomes homeless. Although her story is remarkable, she is relatable and her sense of humour, strength, truthfulness and her lively imagination has you falling in love with her almost from the first page.

Persepolis is more emotionally poignant than V for Vendetta. You don’t feel like you’ve been whacked repeatedly over the head with a political or social message like you do when reading or watching V.

Like life there is tragedy and tears, mixed with humour and humanity.

The 2007 film is just as good.

Marjane co-directed the film with French comic artist Vincent Paronnaud. The film looks like the black and white illustrations have jumped straight from the page onto the screen.

The montages are particularly brilliant. In one Marjane rolls down hills in a state of bliss with her boyfriend Marcus. But once they’ve broken up these same scenes have him featured as a pimply, snot-eating, buck teethed boy reminiscent of the hunchback of Notre Dame.

Of course scenes have been shortened or lost in order to fit into a 90 minute film but Marjane is just as strong on screen.

Graphic novels rewrite superhero stereotype

 

In 2005, Wolfgang Bilsmer and Skye Ogden started Gestalt publishing in the hopes of showcasing talented Australian graphic artists and novelists.

Six years later the pair are now publishing 25 artists and novelists – including recent Academy Award winner Shaun Tan.

I caught up with Wolfgang to discuss the world of comics . . . and how there is more to graphic novels than superheroes and spandex.

Listen to the interview with Wolfgang on 2ser radio’s Final Draft show, aired April 4, 2011

Leading literary ladies

Whether it’s the eerily tragic Mrs Havisham, the vibrant Scarlet O’Hara or Capote’s Holly Golightly, we all have our favourite female characters.

In homage to memorable female characters and International Women’s Day, I caught up with two book lovers to discuss their favourite leading ladies – starting with their first loves to more recent discoveries.

 Here I am with 24-year-old Amy Prcevich

 Story aired on 2ser community radio Final Draft, March 7 2011

A new hope for India’s girls born into prostitution

For generations, prostitution has provided the only means of economic survival for some tribes in the Indian desert. Now, a handful of schools are teaching kids that a life outside the sex industry is possible.

Story aired Deutsche Welle Radio World in Progress, March 2,2011
Story published on Deutshce Welle Online, March 2, 2011

In India’s financial capital Mumbai, Pinkie has entertained the “richest to the poorest men” since she was 20 years old.

For 10 years, she sang and danced for lawyers, doctors and tradesman before leading them to a small bed in the corner of her one-room home.

“There are only one or two men we can enjoy. But we have to have sex with so many people how do we enjoy it? We are doing it for money, so it’s not a question of enjoyment,” she said.

Pinkie lives in Malwadi slum in the outer suburbs of Mumbai and insisted on anonymity while talking to Deutsche Welle. She is now retired but her three sisters and 16-year-old daughter continue to work in the sex industry to support her and the rest of their family.

Born into the sex industry

The women are from the Kanjar community – an ancient tribe in Rajasthan, which like the Nats have come to rely on prostitution for economical survival.

According to the Mumbai-based NGO Summitra Trust, more than 1,200 Nat and Kanjar women work in Malwadi’s sex industry, where they face the threat of imprisonment, HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases.

Before British colonisation, the tribes were entertainers for the ruling families. But when the British came their traditions were lost and they turned to prostitution out of economic necessity.

Now it’s just a matter of social condititioning, according to Surbhi Dayal, a researcher from Jawaharlal Nehru University who has been studying the communities’ family structure for almost a decade.

“If you see your mother who is a married woman doing household work from 4am until 11pm, and your aunt who is an unmarried sex worker always dressed up and able to fulfill whatever you ask of her because she has money, then definitely a girl is going to take up to prostitution not a married life,” Dayal said.

A family matter

While the men earn little money – occasionally working as their sisters’ or daughters’ pimps – the majority of women get married or become sex workers.

“They [the parents] decide around 10 to 12 years of age if a girl is quite talkative and attractive then she pursues sex work but if a girl is shy or she is not very good looking … she will get married,” Dayal said.

When Dayal first learnt about these practices she said she was indignant.

“I kept thinking, ‘How someone can do like this, how women can just go to prostitution? How men can just sit in the house pimping for sisters or daughters?’”

The answer, she said, was poverty.

Path out of poverty

Although Rajasthan attracts tourists with its grand palaces and colorful handiworks, it remains one of India’s poorest states.

Almost 40 percent of people are illiterate and the average income is just over one euro a day.

In contrast, prostitutes working in India’s big cities can make up to 80 euros ($110) a night.

But the extra income has come at a high price. The community faces intense social stigma and the majority of children remain uneducated, which leads to another generation of girls being forced into prostitution.

After witnessing the poor standard of local government schools and watching the pattern of prostitution repeat itself in the Nat and Kanjar communities in Alwar, social worker Nirvana Bodhisattva set up Nirvanavan Foundation.

The foundation, which opened in 2001, runs 12 schools, 10 of which cater specifically to the Nat and Kanjar communities, and provides free education to children aged between 5 and 10.

One of these modest schools is at Kalsara Bagh, a small village split by a highway that links Rajasthan to Delhi.

Along the road, women laze around on grass beds and plastic chairs waiting for customers. Most of these are truck drivers who will pay the equivalent of between 1 euro and 7 euros for time with the women.

New hopes

In the heart of this village, Bodhisattva and his team have set up a one-room school, which blends the community’s traditions of dance and song with Hindi, English and math lessons in order to maintain the students’ interest.

“We began with one school and at that time; we had two teachers and about 60 students,” Bodhisattva said. “Now we have about 520 children.”

Running the schools, however, remains a challenge. Lack of funds led to five schools temporarily closing and gaining the communities’ trust is an ongoing battle, Bodhisattva said.

“The community depends on that profession and the men live on the money that the women earn, so we are a threat,” he said.

A future outside of prostitution will not happen overnight, but a new future is slowly emerging, Bodhisattva said. A former female student is currently studying to become a doctor and several boys have gone on to mainstream schools.

The children now have aspirations, added Anju Singh Rajput, a teacher at the school.

“They are becoming aware of their education,” Rajput said. “They have a dream to become a teacher a doctor because they read about these things in the books. Now they even ask for homework.”

Did India’s astrologers predict this?

The action might take place in India, but at the heart of this next story is a question wondered all over the world: is astrology bunkum?

One Mumbai-based group believes it is, and that India’s many astrologists – not to mention palmologists, gemologists, and other practitioners of the predictive arts – are taking advantage of superstitious and often vulnerable clients.

Astrologers have been guiding Indians since the fifth century: helping them navigate marriages, illness and monsoon rains. Now the NGO Janhit Manch is petitioning the Bombay High Court to clamp down on the industry and on astrology advertising.

Listen to the full story here:

Aired on Deutsche Welle Radio World in Progress December 19, 2010

Aired on KBR68H Indonesia Radio, Asia Calling December 13, 2010

A sweet solution for India’s farmers

Monsoon is Somar Devji Maghi’s favourite time of year. An iridescent green has swept across the ground and for the next four months, Somar will plant, turn soil and watch his farm grow.

The 26-year-old lives in Dandwal, a small village in Gujarat, in India’s South. Somar wishes he could spend his whole year here but he can’t grow enough to support the family. When monsoon ends he works on other people’s farms making just 60 Rupees – or one Euro – a day.

As India pushes forward with its quest for development, small farmers like Somar are getting left behind, according to Vijaya Pastala.

“Gujarat is the fastest growing state but there are still many tribal villages that don’t have electricity. Not many finish school, not many go to college, women are married early. A lot of them are loan-dependent, money-lender-dependent.”

A sustainable solution

Vijaya Pastala is the CEO of Under the Mango Tree (UTMT), a company that links organic small farms to a national market.

After witnessing tribal life in Gujarat, Vijaya was determined to help. In March 2009 she launched the not-for-profit Bees For Poverty Reduction Program.

Farmers buy a starter kit of two bright blue bee boxes at 2,500 Rupees or 42 Euros. They then undergo an intensive training program, where they learn how to find, capture, box and care for the indigenous bee – Apis cerena.

Beekeeping in India is not like beekeeping in the West. There is no protective suit, it’s just your bare skin up against thousands of potentially angry bees. It takes patience, persistence and courage.

“I’ve been stung up to 100 times in a single day when boxing hives,” UTMT’s bee expert Atar Singh said. However, as Jhula Mahado found out, the pain pays off when you hit pay dirt for the first time.

For months, Jhula has been carefully tending his hive. Every two days he checks the combs making sure that they are sheltered from the wind and rain.

Each day he watched as swarms of black and gold entered the box carrying packs of pollen.

As Atar opens the box to show, more than 45 thousands bees swarm around rich yellow combs, oozing with honey. The combs are cut and the honey extracted.

Jhula will make 16 Euros from this batch. He should be able to collect honey every 15 to 20 days for the next four months. It’s a huge boost to his average annual income, which is less than 170 Euros per year.

More than just honey

According to Atar, the rewards of beekeeping go even further.

“Honey is just a by product or direct advantage to the beekeepers. The indirect advantages are much more, even in terms of monetary benefits. Having bees helps to increase their agricultural productivity through pollination. Bees are responsible for 80 percent pollination for the crop, which increases about 35 to 40 percent of yield,” he explained.

More importantly, Atar said, beekeeping is helping his favourite bee, Apis cerena, make a long- needed comeback.

The Cerena is an indigenous Indian bee – famous for its small size and ability to crawl into delicate flowers. But their population is dwindling due to loss of habitat and disease.

One of the worst health scares, Atar explained, started in 1972 with the introduction of Apis mellifera – a European bee.

“Apis mellifera could actually produce 75 to 85 kilos of honey versus Apis cerena which could only produce 5 to 7 kilos of honey. But within six months a viral disease known as sad brood had been introduced and it caused a lot of harm to the indigenous bee population.”

The other threat has been India’s tradition of honey hunting.

Searching for gold

Somu Sotru is a traditional honey hunter. He goes into the forest, finds a hive, smokes it until the bees leave and then crushes it to get the honey.

“We go into the forest with an axe and cut the honey comb. We squeeze the honey and throw the combs away. We collect it into plastic bags and then sell it,” Somu said.

Somu has two bee boxes on his farm, but when Atar opens them, the hives are empty and covered in white webs, created by wax moths. Somu lacks the patience required to care for bees, and still views honey hunting as a quick fix.

Although some older farmers like Somu remain unconvinced of the benefits of beekeeping, others like Somar Devji Maghi have embraced the opportunity.

The program has trained 600 farmers, out of which 100 are master trainers like Somar. They help farmers catch, keep and care for the bees.

“Now it’s just seven people who have taken up this activity. I want more people to take up this activity, as well as the landless. I want the activities to be so good that you take the name of our village everywhere you go,” Somar said.

Somar has already noticed an increase of productivity this year. He has collected cucumbers every three days, compared to every six and hopes to have eight to ten bee boxes on his farm by the end of next year.

Published on Deutshce Welle Online,  December 23, 2010