Boobs and babies

World Breastfeeding Week has finally come to a close! It was a lot of hard work and a lot of hours in the hot Indian sun, but it was also a lot of fun, and it seems like we accomplished Veerni's goals for the week (as sketchily laid-out as those may have been). The events happened six times and each time there was gathering of over 100 people (in one over 150 people showed up), which is a success in itself.

As I've mentioned before, Veerni essentially adopts six villages at a time. For breastfeeding week, in each of these six villages, we held a workshop on breastfeeding (to help end a series of misconceptions that were likely harming the health of these babies), a rally (to raise awareness of the breastfeeding mothers' need for support from their husbands), and conducted a mini-study, through a pre- and post-workshop survey that we conducted.

All of the villages were extremely different, but generally, we were first led to a shaded area by the promoter. From there, she would send word of our arrival and within minutes, women, men, and children would be flocking our way. In one village, we were there after a heavy rain, so the women were in the fields when we arrived and it was a site to behold a line of one hundred women dressed in bright reds and oranges walking back from work, toting babies and carrying huge buckets of soil and produce on their heads. In another village, again after rainfall, everyone in the village was in the fields, so we just went to the fields and conducted the events in the shade of a nearby tree.

Once gathered, we distributed the pre-test to roughly 20 women and adolescent girls in each of the villages. As many of the women are illiterate, the Veerni staff busily talked them through the questions, fifteen in all, which aimed to test breastfeeding knowledge among villagers and the prevalence of misconceptions about feeding the baby honey while breastfeeding, waiting a few days after delivery to feed, etc.

After we collected the pretest, we began the workshop. As you may remember, last week, I had been told to design this workshop, so I did. I was also told, as I designed posters, that Veerni has a projector and has used that for the workshops and would use that for this one. I questioned it. "Where does the power come from?" "Will they be able to see it from outside?" But Rashmi insisted, so I worked on the powerpoint, with the notion that, if all else failed, we could print out each slide and use those as visuals. Of course, when the day of the first workshop arrived, Rashmi tells me that we won't bring the projector, because it will be sunny and no one will see it (ummm yes, I had mentioned that). And so she brought her laptop to show it on (a shiny, shiny screened laptop). Well, that fails, so here I am extremely frustrated, because my one major contribution (aside from the pre- and post-test design) to this week was for nought. Sure, they used it as an outline as they talked, but in some villages, they didn't. Rashmi assured me we would get it printed out at a printer near the office, but when this fails using Rashmi's laptop (and I didn't have mine at the moment, this got delayed until there was only one workhop left. Luckily, they will use it to do more indiviualized workshops when women are pregnant).

Aside from this annoyance, the workshops seemed to be well-received. I am still not used to the teaching style here (it is much more confrontational than I would think is affective), but when I inquired a tiny bit about it, I was told that this is just how they teach. People also tend to talk over eachother constantly, whether in the setting of a workshop or in the office, which gets really, really frustrating if I'm not in the right mood. Again, I feel things could be more effective if the leaders collaborated better (rather than have two people speaking about the same thing at once), but this isn't really my place and culturally, this style is certainly accepted.

We then gave out the post-tests and soon after, started the "rally." Rally is definitely a loose term for what we were doing. After asking the Veerni staff about what this "rally" is actually about, the only answer I got is awareness. Sure, people should be aware of breastfeeding, but aren't they already? Then I got, "well their husbands don't support them: they will make them go to the fields even when a baby is a newborn, demand that their wife cook/clean taking time away from feeding, etc." While this answer, that we were rallying for husband's support, was still unsatisfying, it would have to do. In actuality, the rally was probably just a great morale booster; it was a bit of excitement for the villagers and a good opportunity for men and women in the community to do something together (some women even came out of purdah for it). The Veerni staff made signs for the rally (signs that were quite verbose for rally signs) and "slogans" that they chanted, one of which, "One, two, three, four, mother's milk more and more!" rhymes in both English and Hindi and seemed to be a favorite.

This really was also a huge milestone because it marked the first time I rallied about something while simultaneously having to worry about stepping in cow dung...

Also, generally, the villagers were, as always, a bit fascinated by me and my presence. Every word of Hindi I spoke brought laughter or big smiles, and it wasn't uncommon for me to be swarmed by children. Again, "what is your name?" and "what is your father's name?" seemed to be the main questions, but also "What is your village?" Um, "My village is New York"?
Amusingly, an older woman who took a liking to me was having a conversation in Hindi with one of the Veerni staff members, seemingly about her difficulty nursing given her small breast size. Suddenly she turns to me and starts pointing at my chest. She was commenting on the fact that "I will have a lot of milk for my babies," with the other elders nodding in approval.

And now, for the photo finish. As usual, everyone wanted their photo taken, so some of these are the result of that:

The site where many of the women were working

As one can see in this picture, many of the women cover their faces in sheer material when out of the house. This is one form of purdah (others are completed restrained to their home and never show themselves to people beyond their family)

As you can see, the signs were verbose, to say the least

About fifty children were crowded on this one slide at some point during the day. It's the school's "playground."

I love this woman.

We had biscuits to give to all the kids at the end, so here are the girls lining up

The jeep that the Veerni team travels in (it's often a bit of a clown car as we've piled over 8 people into its seats)

Work, work, work...

Sadly, this post will likely be pretty boring as this week has been chock full o' office work and not much exploring. That said, it has been great to have so much work to do (as previously, I was forced to spend a fair amount of time twiddling my thumbs and always wanted to contribute more.

Strangely, two of my coworkers (one an administrator and the other a "social scientist" who went with the field team daily) quit without any notice last week. It was quite bizarre and, after asking around, I found out that this is quite common, but still considered to be extremely inappropriate. Weirder still, they came in Friday, announced they were leaving because they got other jobs with higher salaries, but said "if the new job doesn't suit me after ten days, I will come back."

On top of this, the head honcho has been out for vacation and will only be returning August 1st, so my other supervisor (the team's nutritionist), Rashmi, and I were basically the only people running the administrative office this week! It was insane and involved calling the ex-coworkers awkwardly multiple times in order to locate files on their computers and such. Extremely frustrating...

That said, we got a lot done this week.

I wrote (and rewrote) a grant proposal for the 2008-9 budget of our sewing program, which aims to give women skills that allow them to have an income, and therefore become more economically, and ultimately socially, independent.

I revised the latest edition of our Annual Report, and as the most computer-competent in the office now (now that the main administrator is gone), I was in charge of formatting the thing--a task that required hours of struggling with page numbers, low quality photos, etc.

And I was also in charge of planning a workshop and rally to take place in a different village daily next week in honor of World Breastfeeding Week. For this, I've primarily been working on a powerpoint that explains the benefits of breastfeeding, the how-tos, etc., while fighting some common misconceptions. As you would expect, most Indian rural women do breastfeed, but apparently, they have some beliefs about breastfeeding that could potentially harm their babies (i.e. they don't breastfeed right away--they give the baby honey or cow's milk for the first day; they stop breastfeeding--sometimes for a week at a time--if the mother has a mild cold; and they don't realize that everything that they ingest is eventually ingested by the baby).
The main struggle in my creation of this curriculum has been a way to visually depict everything. I don't know Hindi, but even if I did, it wouldn't help because almost all of the village women are illiterate. So, I am making a pictorial guide to breastfeeding, and Rashmi will then present it in Hindi. Finding photos that depict the fact that babies' immunity is strengthened by breastfeeding is hard enough; finding more culturally-appropriate images on Google (i.e. ones that don't show upper-class white women) is even more difficult.
I am pretty excited about the events that will take place though, and I think the powerpoint will be a useful tool, not only for these workshops but for the individual counseling that Veerni does with pregnancy women.

On top of this all, I've been working even more to understand the background literature about child marriage and HIV, for the ethnography I will be conducting. Fun, and fascinating, stuff.

Well, that is all. As you can see, work and no play has made Julie a dull girl...but I'm doing what I came here to do, and I do feel like I'm finally contributing, so I'm pretty happy.

First day in the field and a July 4th celebration

One of the Veerni reports I revised began with a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt. She once said, “Where, after all, do human rights begin? In small places, so close and so small they cannot be seen on any map of the world.”

This quote struck a cord with me today, as I ventured out on my first day of fieldwork in one of the villages that Veerni currently serves. We went to the village of Melwa, roughly 50 km from Jodhpur--only an hour away--and yet a world apart. Melwa is in the middle of the desert and is made up of about 1100 people and their stone, mud, and thatched huts. It felt extremely isolated, but extremely vibrant at the same time. They do have electricity, but for only six hours each day (and even then, it seems as though week-long blackouts are common).

Though I do not yet know what my role is on these fieldwork trips (until I begin my interviews), it was extremely fascinating to observe what was going on, and in this sense, the language barrier was in my favor because it let me absorb all the other details of what was happening around me. As I was with the “social projects” team yesterday, the goal was more for a lecture and discussion, than for direct care. The two social workers I was with led a discussion about family planning, particularly about the Pill. It was interestingly a co-ed discussion and both the men and women seemed cooperative. Each side certainly made joking remarks, but in all, both the men and women seemed receptive.

As I observed the crowd, a few things became overwhelmingly apparent to me. Firstly: it was clear that the men get more to eat than the women and children do (and boy children were more likely to have plump bellies than little girls were)—a disparity that doubtlessly contributes to the extreme male-female ratio in the region. Secondly: as I had read, it is not uncommon to see girls as young as 15 with babies breastfeeding in their laps. While I do not know the age of these girls for sure, it is nearly impossible that they are over 18 (the legal married age for girls).

At one point, the villagers were also given free reign to ask me questions. They did not ask much, but as is apparently common in India, the first question after “What is your name?” is “What is your father’s name? What is your mother’s name?” Thinking of this, I realized later that this is one of the last things I ask friends (I still do not know the name of some of my closest friends). They then usually ask how many brothers I have (and when I say “none,” they are always quite shocked) and how many sisters I have. They do ask if I’m married, but do not seem surprised when I say “no” (they have heard, it seems, that Americans get married much later). They also want to know my father’s profession (which is hard to explain in English, let alone in Hindi. The easiest way to answer is to say “doctor”).

On the way home, to my surprise, we randomly pulled over for lunch (the social worker’s daughter-in-law packs a lunch for them each day, apparently). We sat under a tree in, quite literally, the middle of the desert, with nothing for miles except a few trees, a lot of sand, and a shepherd and his goats. It was a bit surreal to just sit and eat lunch in this type of silence, but I really enjoyed it.

Last night was really nice as well. In honor of July 4th, Smita’s interns from the Foundation for Sustainable Development, who are mostly American, were going out for thali at a local restaurant and Smita invited Chloe and I to join them. It sounds silly, but when traveling in India, it is always pleasant to meet other English speakers, and it was extremely comforting to have dinner without the awkward smiles, giggles, etc. that take place when struggling with a language barrier. It was also great to connect with other Americans who are working on similar issues and hopefully, in the future, we will be able to get together to talk about our projects or to just hang out.

First day of fieldwork

I participated in my first "health camp" (i.e. clinic) today and it was extremely interesting. My understanding is that my experience was not typical. Firstly, it is still school vacation here, so most families who live in the complex were gone to visit the wife's family. Secondly, this clinic was not for the general populace, but for the maharaja's servants.

Let me explain:
Apparently, the High Highness the Maharaja does not pay for health care for his many, many servants. Instead, he asks Veerni to come and provide care for free each month. So, there we are providing care at the servants' quarters (a set of apartments provided for his staff), serving mostly women and children whose fathers work for the Maharaja.



We arrived at about 11 a.m. and set up our two large boxes of medications and some equipment (a scale, a blood pressure monitor, and not much more...) And then, for the next four hours, we treated anyone who came by. The problems ranged from vertigo to a leg that is now incredibly disgusting due to a snake bite that happened six years back (the man has been a gardener for His Highness for forty years--and still works, despite having one good leg). And anemia seems rampant (which I found a tiny bit curious considering that I have not yet had a meal without iron-rich lentils). Each time we diagnosed something, we dug into our boxes and gave the necessary meds (sometimes for 1/2 price, sometimes for free). We treated people who come each month (so we can track one chronic condition) and others who only come by when absolutely necessary.

The most harrowing case was a women who broke her tibia and is now unable to do her job (I believe she works as a chef). Instead, her 14 year old daughter has now been taken out of school to earn a wage and then to care for the family in the evening. Chances are, she won't be going back to school now that she's been pulled out. But one can hope that when her mother's condition improves, she'll be given the opportunity again to complete her education.

First day of work

Today was my first full day of work and I would definitely call it a success. My internship placement process was a bit stressful (for those of you who don't know, I was all set and ready to go when, in eighth week, I was forced to urgently choose a new organization). So, I am happy to report that all of the stresses were truly a blessing in disguise. I am working for an organization known as Veerni, which aims to empower rural Rajasthani women and reduce the risks associated with child marriage by developing grassroots educational and health care programs for girls and women throughout the region.

My first major task is to revise an extensive annual report that will be provided to those who have previously given funding and to those who Veerni will be soon approaching for funding. Essentially, I am supposed to make the writing more clear, but also check that its content is appropriate and effective when reaching out to the international non-profit community. Though I was initially unsure about this being my first task (after all, the document is discussing projects that I have not yet worked on), this work may in fact be valuable in contextualizing the projects I will be working on this summer. Also, the organization is recognizing this by sending me out to do fieldwork each morning this next week (Tomorrow, I will be helping Veerni as we host a health care camp outside of a gorgeous local palace. At this camp, anyone can come by and get a checkup and free treatment upon diagnosis)

So, so far, the internship has been great. The staff is extremely friendly and kind, and I think that I will learn a lot from them. I also do think that I will be a valuable member of their team (something I worried would not be true given my lack of Hindi).

Some random thoughts:

The boarding school that Veerni runs is in my office building and will resume in July, which is extremely exciting. While it will not be one of my main tasks, I am excited to be teaching HIV education and English at some point to these girls.

My office has an "office boy"--someone who regularly brings me chai, water, etc. and who needs to unlock the bathroom everytime someone wants to use it. Though this seems to be common in India (multiple maids and servants seem to be in every home and workplace), it makes me extremely uncomfortable to be waited upon, especially because, with my horrid Hindi and his lack of English, we cannot communicate at all.

Got followed home today by a young boy who was in a hysterical fit of laughter. It was kind of cute but awkward, especially after ten minutes straight.

30 cent mango ice cream is delicious.

No photos today, though I did buy my first salwar kameez, so I will have to show that off soon.