Shramadan Special

As mentioned in the post "The Typical Day", we have shramadan every Wednesday and Saturday morning at 6:15am. This was ok when I was jet lagged and waking up naturally at 5am, but now it's become a big pain!

Here is a photo of the plate bell they hit when it is time to wake up for shramadan. The guy in charge hits it over a dozen times; unless you are the deepest of sleepers, there is no way to avoid the sound of its ringing. It does not help that we live in the guest houses closest to the central spot of campus where the bell hangs.

Some mornings if it's raining pretty hard from the monsoon they cancel shramadan and we get to sleep in. It's like getting a snow day! I was lucky, and this happened on both Wednesdays when I was not feeling well.

For the first four weeks that I was here, every time we did shramadan we swept the paths around campus and cleared leaves to make the grounds look pretty. Then, on Wednesday July 21st we did something different. They sent all the women to weed the path that leads to the lake house. There are no lawn mowers here, at least none that I have seen. So, weeding is not just meant to clear flowerbeds, but to manually cut grass and help ensure that the paths stay wide enough and are not narrowed by encroaching grass and plants. I wasn't too excited to be doing this activity. First, it meant sticking my hands in morning-dew grass where lots of little bugs and critters live. I was also afraid of there being snakes. Second, we had to use very sharp scythes to help us cut some of the grass down and I was worried about chopping off my hand.

For the first few minutes I daintily picked at some grass and weeds, trying not to get my hands dirty. I didn't feel like I was doing much. After a while, I got more comfortable with the nature living in the grass. It really was just some small worms, ants, caterpillars, spiders, and other weird looking things I've never seen before...but you know, small stuff, that doesn't scare me much anymore. I started helping out a lot more and I found that I really enjoyed this work. It was also fun because instead of being spread out to sweep all over campus, all us girls were concentrated in one area so we could talk during shramadan. This made it sort of a chore-filled social hour. I also found that weeding one small area was less straining on the back than being bent over sweeping an entire path. All in all, it was a good shramadan.

For several weeks Naina (Dr. Abhay Bang) kept telling us that we were going to do some rice transplantation. This means moving seedlings from one rice paddy where they were initially planted and sown and are very concentrated to another rice paddy where they will complete the rest of their growth in a less dense manner. That's the simplified version. I'm sure there is a much better agricultural explanation.

Anyway, Naina said this was going to mean standing in mud up to our knees and as interns expected to participate in shramadan, this meant that if one day this rice transplantation actually happened we would have to join in. I didn't like this idea. I do not like sticking my feet into bodies of water where I cannot see the bottom. I don't like it at the ocean and I would not like it in a muddy rice paddy. I probably wouldn't even stick my feet into my own bathtub if the water was not translucent. Don't water snakes live in rice paddies? I told myself that if the morning came when we were to do rice transplanting, I wouldn't complain. I would try to help out in any way I could and if I couldn't avoid going into the mud, I would just find a way to do it, hoping it wouldn't last long.

Here is a photo of the rice paddy. I just happened to take it during sunset the evening before we did the rice transplantation. It is right across from the library, so when I leave the library most evenings, this is the view that I see. At the time I took this photo I didn't even realize this was the rice paddy.

On Friday, July 23rd, Naina announced at prayer service that we would be doing rice transplantation the next morning. "Alright, I guess it's actually going to happen," I thought. He told us that men could wear shorts, but of course, women would have to keep on their modest outfits. This was totally unfair! We would have to roll-up our pants and basically get our clothes muddy just because we are not allowed to show our knees, but the men could wear shorts!!! Everyone went to bed hoping it would rain the next morning.

On Saturday, July 24th, the shramadan bell rang. It was not raining. Some of the girls were very tired (we've been going to bed later and later) and decided they were going to skip and sleep in. Marie, Haley, and I were led by others to the rice paddy. Since it had recently rained, as always, things were pretty muddy. We stood and watched as others ventured into the muddy rice paddy. Bhagyashree was already in there planting rice grass, and us Americans stood there like we had never seen anything like it- because, well, we hadn't. What helped a lot is that I guess some of the women who live at SEARCH haven't had much experience with rice transplantation either because some of them seemed really freaked out as well. One woman yelped and shrieked with fear when her feet first sank into the mud. After watching them get into the rice paddy (which required climbing over a muddy hill), Haley was psyched up enough to go in. Honestly, if it weren't for Haley's gung-ho attitude I probably would have ran away. I decided I would just do whatever she did. We all climbed up the muddy dirt and a man helped us into the paddy. Unfortunately, Marie cut her toe on something, probably a stick, and had to get out after taking one step.

The sensation was gross and the texture at the bottom was terrifying!!! I was petrified there were going to be snakes or huge beetles or just anything that would eat my feet. We got in the paddy in a watery section so that in addition to having no idea what was below our feet, it was very sloshy, and this caused the mud to keep shifting, which kept freaking me out that something was there. Thankfully, we were not knee-deep as Naina had promised, but we were ankle-calf deep the entire time. We decided to wade over to the end where most people were working. It was less watery and just more sticky mud. I was scared the whole time that something was going to get me, but after a few minutes I decided that the mud was way to thick and dense for anything to be moving through it, let alone living in it.

Still, I had to stay within a foot of someone at all times. I had a theory that there was strength in numbers and I couldn't possibly be attacked by an imagined water snake if I was standing next to someone else. Makes sense right? It also helped that Naina, Anand, and other senior staff were helping out as well. It gave me comfort that they had done this many times before and they obviously wouldn't have us do it if it were unsafe. In fact, during the shramadan there were probably 40 people in the rice paddy! Thus, I just kept telling myself that nothing was going to happen to me because nothing seemed to be happening to anyone else.

Haley and I laughed a lot throughout the process. Everyone else looked like they had done this dozens of times, but we had no clue what to do. How far down do we stick the rice seedlings? How far apart do we plant them? Everyone else was going in nice, neat, consistent rows. In contrast, our strategy was to plant the seedlings in any way that allowed us to limit our movement and continue to cling to the spots where others were working. I spent most of the time working next to the older man who starts the music for prayer every evening. I don't know his name, but I wish I did. I think he is at least Naina's age, if not older. He seems very dignified and I always say hi to him when I see him on campus. I tried to copy his system for the rice transplantation. Naina also came over and showed us how to lean our elbow onto one knee and bend our knees so that we were in the proper position to do this for awhile. He told us that some women from the villages work in the rice paddies for 10-12 hours a day! Fortunately, shramadan only lasts 45 minutes! Here is a photo of the paddy when we were done:

When it was time to get out everyone walked over to one section of the paddy and one by one took turns climbing out of the mud. One last section was still being finished and an elderly woman who looked very experienced at rice transplantation tried to guide Haley and I over to it so we could help complete it. After a few seconds though, she made a face like we were doing everything wrong, and we got out with everyone else.

After the work, some staff brought out some chai tea for everyone to enjoy as they cleaned themselves up. We decided to not wash off quite yet because we wanted to grab a photo back at our rooms. The elderly woman and her friend stood and giggled and spoke to Naina in Marathi. We were curious to know what they were saying about us. Bhagyashree said that the elderly woman said that I was not very good at rice transplantation and that I couldn't do it! What!?!?! Haha. After everything I went through! I got in the mud and walked through sticky, watery, gooey, can't-see-my-feet rice paddy and didn't complain one bit! And I stuck my hand down into the mud over and over and put those little rice grass bundles into it. And she said I couldn't do it!? I knew that she was just making fun of us and Haley and I knew we had done our best.

Here is a photo of us (Bhagyashree, me, Haley) upon returning to our rooms:

A few hours later when I was near the rice paddies I saw the elderly woman and a few others still working. Here is a photo of them. The elderly woman is the one standing up and scowling at me for taking a photo. You can see this better if you click on the photo to enlarge it.


And finally, another shramadan that was unique: this past Saturday, July 31st, I was too tired, and I just plain skipped it!