Why Can't I Touch the Untouchables?
A Nepalese friend Krish asked me to come visit the school site when I first arrived in Pokhara two weeks back. This was Krish's childhood village and he said they desperately needed help.
Krish comes from a higher caste with the surname Poudel. This subclass derives from the Brahmin caste comprising of educators, scholars, and Vedic priests. However the people that live in this village are of low-caste and considered "lower than livestock." They are the "untouchables" of Nepal.
The Untouchable:
Dalit status has often been historically regarded as ritually impure, such as any involving butchering, leatherwork, removal of garbage, animal Caracas, and waste. Dalits work as manual laborers clearing streets, latrines, and sewers. Engaging in these activities are considered to be polluting to the individual, and this pollution is considered contagious (Anti-Slavery.org).
As a result, Dalits are commonly segregated, and banned from full participation in Hindi social life. For example, they cannot enter a temple or a school, and are required to stay outside the village. Business owners will not hire them and landlords will not rent to them in fear of getting this "contamination" or being ostracized from their peers.
Last summer I met Krish at the guesthouse I was staying at. He had just got back from a week of guiding trekkers through the Annapurna region. He found out what I was trying to accomplish with sustainability and inquired about me helping his village.
I posted a volunteer recruitment placement on a website. Nearly a year later, I found him a volunteer to run and implement the English program he wanted to start at the local primary school.
That man (a retired businessman form India) happened to be in Nepal the same week I wanted to visit the school. We all traveled there together to see how we could help.
A Lesson in Humanity:
When we arrived, the school welcomed us to be apart of their academic ceremony. We sat at the head of the room with beautifully adorned flower necklaces and the ceremonial red mark on the forehead.
Two British twin boys, aged 11, who accompanied us on our school visit played soccer excitedly with their new school chums. Laughing, tossing the ball, hugging, smiling ear-to-ear.
Later that afternoon, I informed them about what it meant to be a Dalit. It brought tears to their little blue innocent eyes (and to mine as well).
"How can anybody hate them?" desperately asked Sammy. "There just children."
I knew how they were feeling. Learning about inequality and the harsh realities of life. It was disheartening for us all.
"These boys will always be our friends," exclaimed the twin Tally. "They will know that they are loved."
I hope this was a lesson for all the boys that day; Dalits and un-Dalits alike. We're all the same. A last name shouldn't dictate your job (and your rights)... for the rest of your life.
What Can We Do?
The following morning, we brainstormed for hours. The Indian man was clearly on a different agenda and wanted to build a Woofing compound in which volunteers would come and stay on this sustained land. In turn they would help the school and village with their services.
While a good idea in theory, the problem was moderation; an area that I did not want to partake in. The notion keeps returning to the idea of sustainability. How do we keep these people sustained after we leave? Where is the job skill or empowerment?
I shifted the focus and wanted to instead create animal husbandry that could, in effect, generate income for the school. We would hire the teenage boys to maintain the animals while the profits would be put directly back into the school.
Krish has the idea of purchasing 10-14 pigs. The annual income generated from the sale of a pig farm of this size equates to 250,000 rupees (US $2841). This little amount by American standards is more than enough to help sustain a primary school in Nepal.
The Prince and the Pauper:
Krish and I gave the project idea two thumbs up, however it was our more philosophical British counterparts that questioned the idea.
The pig in Nepal is considered the lowliest animal on the totem pole. Culturally, those of higher caste will not eat pork because the pig is considered unclean (it consumes it's own fecal matter). This notion of uncleanliness originated from Islam and has been carried over into the Hindi caste culture as well.
The question then arises; are we contributing to the problem that the Dalits are already bound to? The pigs are a cheap and swift way to "fix" the problem. More desirable animals like cows and buffalo are expensive and at-the-moment, I personally don't have the money or resources to accommodate this.
My primary focus belongs to my school project. The idea of pigs are a quick solution that can be implemented immediately. Something that can be completed before I head to the jungle.
The question still abounds; should we really be giving a low-caste person a low-caste form of income generation? Are purchasing Dalit pigs as a source of sustainability better than investing in nothing at all? Are we indirectly creating the endless cycle of poverty that becomes hard to break free of?
Give a man a broom and he comes a pauper; give a man empowerment and he becomes the prince.
Perhaps the age-old question still remains. Who's going to be the pauper and who is lucky enough to become the prince? Who gets to make these decisions?
