Happy Holi!

Monday 17^th March 2014

I was woken this morning with a face full of of bright blue powder. And then yellow. Suddenly, we're in the street with our neighbours, throwing colours around. 
    As you may have guessed, today is Holi, the Hindu festival marking the arrival of spring. It's a festival of colours (so obviously, I love it), which brings everyone out to celebrate with coloured powders, water and paints. This is exactly what I spent my Saturday afternoon doing with my colleagues from Saath's youth programme, after some interviews at their event that day. It was certainly a lot more successful - but was probably filled with just as many laughs - as my Gujarati 'lesson' earlier in the day!  

Holi fun with the Youth Force team.

    I had a huge smile on my face all day Sunday, sometimes because I was enjoying myself immensely, and others when I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I spent the day at the Gandi Ashram with Youth Force, visiting the museum (Gandhi made a lot sandals, who knew?) and taking part in group activities, which included dancing (yes, it was rather embarrassing without the help of a gin & tonic), and a chance for me to show off the whole two words of Gujarati I'd learnt the day before (કેમ છો) Most applauded and smiled, either because it was fair, or (most likely) because it was terrible. I conducted a few interviews, and before I knew it, everyone was throwing colours at each other again - such fun.

Gandi Ashram with Youth Force.

    After lunch, I was whisked off to visit my research assistant's in-laws-to be, apparently doing him a big favour Of course, I didn't mind, there was delicious food and tea involved. When we'd finished with the small talk and excessive smiles on my part, we headed back to the Ashram, and I was quickly on my way again to somebody else's house, for more tea and snacks. The hospitality shown to me here has been so heartwarming. I certainly won't be losing any weight while I'm in India, but it's worth it for all of the warm welcomes. 

    Last night, the city was illuminated by Holika bonfires (Holi celebrates the death of Holika - the devil - to save Prahlad, giving the festival its name) and resounded with music in celebration. I am totally mesmerised by this country's consistent effervescence. 

Holika bonfire at the end of my street.

    Having now completed 24 interviews, I’ve started to think about some of the themes and patterns emerging, and not only those which relate to my research objectives. During the interviews, I ask participants to describe any changes they have noticed occurring around them in recent years. Most responses describe the growth of the city, communications and technology, and public transport, but several have mentioned the clearances of informal settlements along the riverfront here in Ahmedabad as part of the Sabarmati Riverfront Development Project. According to the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation, the purpose of the project is to "to revivify the city centre by reconnecting it to the river". Rehabilitation of displaced slum dwellers from the area met with severe opposition from activists involved with slum rehabilitation, although the process has now been completed, and was the largest displacement of its type in the city to date.

When the interviewees discuss the development, there is some resonance with notions of a politics of distinction, as discussed by Leela Fernandes in her (2004) article The politics of forgetting: class politics, state power, and the restructuring of urban space in India. Fernandes discusses spatial practices such as urban beautification projects as ways to produce a vision of liberalising India, of which the identities of its ‘new’ middle class are central, with the production of boundaries of their category, constructed through a politics of distinction from and by forgetting the poor and working classes. However, I have noticed that this seems to occur on other scales, and within the poor themselves. Slum dwellers in permanent settlements distinguish themselves from those living in extreme poverty through the advocacy of these clearance and resettlement programmes. Their attitude appears to be that the new housing they will be offered is a definite an improvement in their quality of life and good for the city, without consideration of negative social impacts on the communities concerned. This also reinforces that we must remember that the poor in the Global South are not, and do not act as one homogenous group or necessarily have the solidarity one might imagine.

Please note that these observations are based on only a few conversations, and it would of course require substantially more research in order to draw any veritable conclusions.

A street in Behrampura, the locality in which a majority
of my research has been conducted.

“Why are you doing this research? How will it help me, us?”

That’s what one of my participants asked me after his interview earlier this week. Honestly, it threw me. Whilst I’m used to discussing my research and ideas in academic circles, wherein it’s (usually) easily understood for its intrinsic worth, having to describe and defend its instrumental value to a participant was slightly daunting, I couldn’t just say:

“Well, it’s not action research, so it doesn’t necessarily help you.”

I did manage to describe how my work should hopefully make a positive impact (eventually), however small it may be. Despite the mild state of panic it put me in initially, I am most grateful to this young man for presenting me this challenge, and forcing me to really think and remind myself as to why I’m here.

Sitting in this café, I am not only enjoying the free WiFi, friendly service, and delicious iced coffee (no, they’re not paying me to write this), but also the opportunity it gives me to observe members of India’s ‘new’ middle class, and in particular its youth. They are simply fascinating: their mannerisms; their patterns of consumption; their politics. Should I for some reason find myself in a position in the future that involves further research, they will certainly be on the agenda.

Distinction and forgetting:
key to contemporary India's image?

On a slightly different note, a few nights ago I was woken by something falling on me at 4am. It was a cat that had jumped through the window. I was not impressed. The aforementioned window will remain closed from now on. 
Finally, I had a much-needed haircut this week. For some unknown reason, I am always apprehensive about getting my hair cut in unfamiliar places, and decided to play it safe with a salon in one of the city’s upmarket shopping malls. I had no idea how much I’d pay, but thought it would probably be about what I pay for the very standard, quick job I get at the budget place I usually go to in Utrecht (14€). Nonetheless, I took my credit card just in case. After forty minutes, and potentially the most meticulous trim I’ve ever had, I was set back…Rs.170 (2€). 

India continues to astound me.