Maria Schirmer
Jana Sanskriti Center for Theatre of the Oppressed
Kolkata (Calcutta), West Bengal, India
Our trip to Digambarpur was a long one. Not in kilometers but in time. Unencumbered by traffic we could have made it from the Center, north of Kolkata, to the South 24 Parganas District in 2 or 2 ½ hours but this time it was more like 5. Driving in India is a stressful negotiation with many elements including, cycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, motorcycles converted into mini flatbed trucks, buses, cars, trucks, regular cycles, pedestrians and various kinds of animals. As we flew along at a heart attack inducing speed (when not actually stuck in traffic the pace on the roads is a race, a race that sadly many people, not to mention animals, lose daily) the polluted bustle of Kolkata gave way to a more agricultural landscape and fresher air. The road was dotted with busy market towns teeming with people. Suddenly we came to a screeching halt. “ We’re here,” Satya exclaimed. Two members of the office staff, two core theatre team members and myself all got out of the car but I was perplexed, here was a few abandoned brick building and a pack of teenagers, who looked equally perplexed (the appearance of a Western women hopping out of a car had given them a bit of a shock), on the side of the road.
Villages in West Bengal (and I suspect in much of India) are not like what I imagine a village to be, tiny and quaint. They are in fact very large in landmass, with houses (most mud with a straw roof, while others are brick) dotted in between farmland. The population is larger then I would have thought too. Digambarpur is about 7000. This is population India style, big. In fact, of India’s one billion plus population nearly 80% live in these sort of agricultural villages. The cities are huge (Kolkata is 14 million) but they make up a small percentage of the nations people. And yet, with so may people considered villagers they still on the margins of society.
Our journey to our final destination involved a couple more steps. First a ride on an aforementioned flatbed motorcycle (brilliant invention by the way) and then a walk in insanely slippery mud, which had the consistency of rubber cement. The landscape was beautiful, lush green from the monsoon rains. The air was crisp and there was a cool breeze so welcome after the humidity of where I am staying. It was easy to feel enchanted. Perhaps that is why politicians are willing to overlook the economic disparity and struggle for basic humans rights rural people face. With scenery so idyllic how could life be bad? But there are secretes hiding in this beautiful place. Alcoholism is high, and with that domestic violence, in large part because of the illegal liquor producers who are in cahoots with the local government. Girl children rarely go to school and are married off young through the humiliating and economically devastating system of dowry, there is no electricity, running water or adequate sanitation. There are government welfare systems in place, food rations, widow’s payments, but not only do they not fix the problem and act as a social Band-Aid, the systems are notoriously corrupt. More recently the government has tried to enact sweeping changes by way of land acquisitions (more like grabs due to the fact that people are grossly undercompensated for their land, if at all) and partnerships with big industry. A notorious example in West Bengal that Jana Sanskriti wrote a play about was in the Singur district, where the government forcibly took land from farmers and gave it to TATA (a massive industrial conglomerate that manufactures everything from steel to salt) far a car factory. This is the government’s idea of development, industrialization that benefits the already rich with promises from the poor. This time the promise was that the famers could now work in the factory. It’s steady wages, they argued, not mentioning that there were only jobs for 40% of the farmers that lost their land.
We were in Digambarpur for a two-day meeting of the Human Rights Protection Committee (see the previous post for an explanation of the HRPC and Jana Sanskriti’s work). The meeting covered everything from education, the theatre work, record keeping and research. What is unique about the HRPC is that it is made up of not only members of Jana Sanskriti’s core team but also spect-actors who have such a long history participating in the Forum plays that they have become a big working family (very big at 13,000, although this meeting was only with about 30). They are also unique in that they are essentially autonomous, meaning that Jana Sanskriti does not dictate what it is they do, although they provide assistance, guidance and resources. The issues they focus on (often women’s issues, education and corruption) are culled from the Forum plays but those plays too are formulated by the villagers. Quite unlike the governments plans for development the work of Jana Sanskriti, and as such HRPC, are not prescriptive. Jana Sanskriti firmly believes in the capacity of those they serve to dictate what is best for their lives and communities. They are only there to facilitate the dialogue and support social change. Human rights I realize are about choice, the choice to live ones life fully, safely and healthy but just how that happens should be up to the community, to the people. Clearly we can see from all the Fellows posts that if we rest our hopes in the State we will be waiting a long time indeed.
Our time in Digambarpur ended with a snack of coconut and muri (puffed rice that is a village staple all over West Bengal) and another very long, harrowing ride home. As we passed the endless crowds of people I wondered just what their choices would be for their lives, where they fully free to have them. And then I though about mine…