The inner worlds of rural Indians
By Dr C Vijayalakshmi & Dave Wallack
Many stereotypes abound about rural India, and some of these stereotypes directly contradict each other.
One set of stereotypes evokes images of blue skies, green fields, rivers of flowing water, clean air, and women singing as they work in the fields.
Another set of stereotypes evokes oppression by rich landlords, scheming moneylenders, and middlemen and their goons cheating innocent, gullible villagers.
InnerWorlds India, a team of researchers, attempts to look beyond these stereotypes. We are trying to portray accurately how rural Indians perceive and make meaning of the world around them. Our intention is to provide a deeper understanding of people beyond visible parameters such as the assets they own, and to provide a framework and language for discussing subjective experiences.
Here are three typical life stories collected from across India by the InnerWorlds India team.
Shanta Sahu (female, aged 39), Orissa
"I was born in a village near Vishakapatnam. I was the youngest child of my parents. I studied until Class 8 and then dropped out when I broke my ankle in an accident. I got married when I was 18. After my marriage, I settled in my husband's village in Berhampur (250 km south of Bhubaneshwar). My husband's brothers and sisters have settled in Mumbai and Surat. They are very well off and occupy good positions in life. My mother-in-law did not permit us to leave the village, as somebody had to stay behind to look after the farm and cook for her."
"We have two to three acres of land that we have given to tenants for farming. We grow paddy and groundnut. We have a small grocery shop in front of our house. We have faced heavy losses as we are unable to build up enough stocks due to lack of money. Now the shop is almost closed."
"My happiest days were as a child. I have known nothing but hard work and misery after my marriage. I have three children. My eldest daughter has done a hotel management course and is married. My son-in-law works in America in a shipping line. My son studies at a college in Purushottampur; so does my youngest daughter. I have worked morning to night in this village, looking after my mother-in-law and in the fields. But where are the results? Everyone who went to Mumbai is very well-off, while we face misery after misery. Today, my daughter's mother-in-law refuses to let my daughter visit us because we are well below their status."
"I have to get my younger daughter married; my son has to get a good
job. If only my husband had listened to me and gone to Mumbai, my
life would have been so different."
Selvam (female, aged 65), Tamil Nadu
"I was born in a village near Thanjavur (200 km south of Chennai). Mine was basically an agricultural family. I cook and work on the family farm along with my parents. I got married when I was 13 years old. My husband was working in Singapore as a night duty officer. He met with a fatal accident when he was 38 years old. I was 24 years old and pregnant with my third daughter. Neither my brothers nor my in-laws supported me as I had no son to carry on the family name."
"I faced several pressures from the men in the village as I was
young and vulnerable. I was determined to stay alone. I trusted a
woman who took me to her house; she made me work hard and took away
all my jewels and money. I chose to remain single and struggled to
bring up my daughters. I worked hard and saved wisely. I invested my
money in land. Today I own a house and more than 10 acres of land.
My three daughters are happily married and my granddaughter is
studying to be an engineer."
Sona Singh (female, aged 23), Uttarakhand
"I am 23 years old. I was born in a village near Dehra Dun (300 km north of New Delhi). I am a Sikh woman. My parents are agriculturalists. I have three elder sisters who are all married. I studied at the local government school in the village. I studied MA Sociology at a college in Dehra Dun. Completing MA has been the biggest success for me because not many women study much in my village. Although I have studied I do all the work that other women in my village do every day -- cooking, tending to the cows, helping my parents with the farming...
"We made huge profits when my family had a dairy business. We
managed to get my sisters married and build a house. By God's grace
we are in a position where we do not have to borrow money from
anyone. Right now I dream that I will get a good husband who earns
well, is honest and brave. I also want a good set of in-laws. If I
get a job after getting married, then I will definitely work."
What do these stories tell us?
Story after story collected from across India converges around the basic themes of:
Resilience
Contrary to popular belief about the poor in villages being caught in a vicious debt cycle, which pushes them to commit suicide, examples of resilient people like Selvam abound. They have broken out of the debt trap by making smart choices with their meagre earnings -- by saving, borrowing and investing simultaneously, using both formal and informal sources, and by migrating, if necessary, in search of a livelihood.
Migration
Villagers dream of making it big in cities. Migration is so common that at least one member of every rural family has left the village. In Thanjavur district, the preferred destination is Dubai or Singapore; in Orissa it is Surat or Mumbai; in Uttarakhand it is Delhi, or employment in the Indian army.
Migrants are a source of steady income for their families back home, particularly if they end up in the armed forces. Their contributions help families mitigate the vagaries of crop failure. Such families have accumulated more wealth than those that are entirely dependent on rural livelihoods. Shanta Sahu's story is a typical example.
While there are many instances of old people returning to their villages, any young person who remains behind in the village is seen as a failure, someone incapable of making it big in life. Parents spend enormous amounts of money sending their children to English-medium schools, computer classes and so-called technical institutes in the hope that they will become ‘officers', earning big money in the cities.
Familial ‘we-self'
Our travels across Indian villages clearly revealed one aspect of identity in rural India: the sense of self is neither an individualistic ‘I-self' nor a collective ‘we-self'. Instead, it is a familial ‘we-self'.
In interview after interview, people speak of duties towards children -- educating them, ‘settling them' in life (getting them married), constructing a house for the family. Likewise, their deepest fears involve besmirching the family reputation and not living up to the expectations of family members. Their anxieties are all about not fulfilling their duties towards parents and children. Relationships are viewed as duties and responsibilities.
This narrative is ubiquitous; differences manifest only in terms of differences in the distribution of power within the family.
Indians' preoccupation with marriage and children, family members of politicians inheriting party posts across the country, and easy acceptance of such dynasties are evidence of how deeply the sense of familial ‘we-self' is embedded.
Implications
This familial ‘we-self' has many ramifications. It explains why weddings are the most important events in an Indian's life. A familial society spends as much on marriage to ensure that the future of the bride and groom is safeguarded as an individualistic or collectivist society spends on children's education and health as an investment for the future. Any problems that may arise in a marital relationship can then be resolved by both extended families and village elders who participated in the matchmaking and in the grand wedding.
To ask why people spend so much money and effort on marriages is non sequitur in a familial setting, as family life begins with marriage and is successful when children, particularly sons, are born, married off, and the cycle continues...
Secondly, in a familial ‘we-self' culture, bosses are father figures or, in some cases, mother figures. Constant attention-seeking, peer-level jealousies and inability to take independent decisions without the boss' approval mimic familial relationships at the workplace. To be effective, bosses have to strike a balance between looking after the welfare of subordinates, like a good father, and achieving the task at hand.
Thirdly, customers, especially rural customers, must be perceived as responsible members of households, with duties to fulfil. Income belongs to the entire family and is used to meet several obligations and duties. To understand rural customers, information about households, not individuals, must be collected. Likewise, when we identify entrepreneurs from rural backgrounds, we need to understand that s/he wants to create an empire for his family, and not merely a profitable venture for himself. Our entrepreneur profile has to include members of the household, particularly the spouse and adult children.
Note: This analysis draws heavily from extant literature in areas of comparative psychology and psychoanalytical traditions, in particular Alan Roland's In search of Self in India and Japan: Toward A Cross-cultural Psychology (Princeton University Press, 1989)
