VILLAGE CUSTOMS

In Rahmatpur, my husband’s ancestral home the old ways are still observed and respected.   It is very much a patriarchal society.  Married women wear a sari.  Brides cover their head and hide their face from all males older than their husbands.  The married women of the household bathe and dress early in the morning just in case a visitor arrives.  The village is still talking about the scandalous bride that dared to visit the village two years ago wearing a salwar kameez.  As far as I could tell there is no dress code for the men.

The head of the household routinely receives visitors on the front porch.  Ram informed me it would be better for me to remain inside.  If he wanted to introduce me, he would bring his visitor inside to meet me.  The women visit together inside the home and enjoy drinking chai (tea).

 

Ram chatting with  a neighbour.

Ram is getting his nails clipped from the third generation barber.

Bahurani Purnima told , me I had to get my toenails painted.  She said I had no choice and it was expected.

This lady is also a barber that will paint my toenails.  She is grandmother to Ram's barber.

I did d not know toenail painting included most of my foot.

At least I am in good company.

These two barbers serve all of the Singh family in the village.  Each Singh household pays for their services with grains and other farm products. Because our family seldom visits we also gave them money and saris.

I am now ready to receive visitors.

These are two of my bahuranies (daughter in laws) on my left and my sister  in  law  to my right.

More family.

RAHMATPUR VISIT

I have enjoyed hearing about my husband’s childhood growing up in Rahmatpur.  Now I have finally been able to visit myself.  The original house is no longer there.  We stayed in the home built by his late brother.  The house plan was designed by my late sister in law and was modelled after her father’s home. It is built on three levels around a center court that is open to the sky.  It has been empty for many years.  The wiring and light fixtures were stolen.  We rented a generator to run some lights and fans and brought our drinking water from Patna.

Front porch

First floor.  The centre court is open to the sky and surrounded by a covered walkway which is surrounded by separate rooms, four bedrooms a bathroom, kitchen and indoor water well.

Two twin wood bed frames were put together and covered with quilts.  This became the formal gathering place for the women during the day and the grandchildren’s bed which was covered with mosquito netting at night.  Bahurani Purnima is quite comfortable with our son Keshar standing.

  

Our bedroom.  The bed was wood covered only with quilts.  I wished I had my camping air mattress. Misquote netting was added at night.

Kitchen

Indoor water well..  No we did not use this water.

                    Second floor.  Here there are two bedrooms, two bathrooms, storage rooms and a large balcony.                                             

Second floor

This bench is on the second floor covered walkway.  My late sister in law enjoyed drinking tea and visited with her lady friends here.  It would have been covered with a quilt. 

Second floor

View from third floor.  Here there is a smaller balcony and more storage..

Another third floor view

My apology for the amateur look of this page.  Blogger has done something to this site.  It is impossible to set the margins. 

THE SINGHS HAVE RETURNED

As Ram’s mother predicted, once educated her sons did leave the village, Late Elder Brother to Patna and Ram to the USA.  Although Ram Singar was in Patna, he did maintain ties with the village and managed the farm and sharecroppers from Patna.  At the request of his wife he built a home there and they did spend time there.  Unfortunately his wife suffered a stroke, became wheelchair bound and was no longer able to live there.  Ram remained in the USA telling his brother to take his share of the land and do with it as he saw fit.  After his brother’s death the management of the property has fallen largely to Bahurani Purnima as her husband is busy with his work and has no time for Rahmatpur.  It appears the Singh family has slowly lost control. The patriarchal society has no regard for female management making things difficult for Bahurani Purnima.

The house has fallen into neglect, the wiring and light fixtures have been stolen.  It has become painfully event that the Singh family no longer wields the presence it once did.  Though the servants had several weeks’ notice, the house was not made ready.  There was a mad scramble to get things done after we arrived.  There have been no records kept as to how much crops were sold for.  Apparently the foreman was taking bribes for the villagers for the privilege of sharecropping our fields.  We found that another cousin had gained access to the house and made it look like a school in order  to receive government monies.  No classes were ever held there except on the day of inspection.  We found a squatter’s newly built house on our field. With the blessing of our son and Bahurani Purnima,  Ram will visit frequently and help reestablish our presence. 

The foreman originally hired my husband forty years ago has been fired and a temporary foreman installed.  He is already busy getting things done.  He will see that a water pump is placed on the old home site so that we have water access when we visit.  We carried drinking water with us from Patna.  This will benefit the other villagers as well.

Ram standing on the front porch of his late brother's home

ANCESTERAL ROOTS

Our trip to my husband’s ancestral village has prompted many a conversation about his Indian roots and heritage.  Ram’s ancestors were Rajput, from the area of what is now Rajasthan.  Rajput is derived from the Sanskrit word raja-putra meaning son of a king. They were ruling Hindu warier land owners.  His ancestors relocated to the Indian State of Bihar due to the Mogul invasion somewhere around 1560.  Has family has been in Rahmatpur, for five or six generations. 

Ram’s father was a typical farmer, wealthy in land and poor in money.  Ram’s mother was fourteen when she married, an arranged mirage.  She continued to live with her parents and would visit her husband from time to Time until she was older sixteen or seventeen.  Though she could not read she knew every inch of her property and where and when to plant each type of crop. She worked alongside of her work hands until they begged her to stop due to their exhaustion.  She was most unhappy when her husband sold her gold jewelry to purchase more land.  Now I know why there has never been a piece of property my husband did not want to buy.

Ram was born he thinks in 1945.  There were no birth certificates at the time.  India was under British rule.  As Ram so well puts it, “The British could have cared less about the birth of another Indian baby.”  Ram’s younger nephew, Jeevan thinks he was born in 1945, so it seems Ram may be two years older than previously thought.

Rahmatpur was starting to become more crowded and during Ram’s childhood.  Realizing that in the future their land would not be able to support the growing population, his father became the laughing stock of the village when he decided to spend scarce money to educate his two sons. His mother was also upset knowing they would probably leave the village leaving no one to manage the farm.   His elder brother, Ram Singar Singh was sent to Patna for his education.  This opened his eyes to the many possibilities beyond village life.  Ram has fond memories of his brother coming home to visit always bringing a book bag and candy.  Ram Singar later became Secretary to India’s Health Minister, the equivalent to the Secretary of Health in the USA. 

Ram qualified to go into the Indian Air Force. However this required a mother’s signature which she refused to give.  Instead, Ram obtained his engineering degree at the insistence of his father.  By the time he finished his degree, jobs in India were scarce.  With thirteen dollars in his pocket and a one way airline ticket he came to the USA and lived the American Dream.

Now, he has come full circle.  Our visit to the village confirmed that his father was right.  The land of his cousins has become overpopulated and living for many is not easy.  Once open spaces and the play field are now crowded with homes.  The village is no longer laughing.

Ram's childhood home once stood here.  This is taken from the second story balcony of the home his elder brother built.  This is where the barns once were.

PATNA, FIRST LEG OF OUR JURNEY TO RAHMATPUR, MY HUSBAND'S BIRTHPLACE AND ANCESTRAL HOME

Patna is the home of our nephew, Keshar.  Per India custom he is actually considered to be our Son, his wife our daughter in law and their children, our grandchildren.  Durga Puja, celebrated over five days, occurred while we were visiting.  Colored lights were everywhere.  Elaborate temporary temples made of silk, housing the image of the Goddess Durga, were erected all over the city.

LIGHTS OVER PATNA HIGHWAY

TEMPLE CONSTRUCTED WITH SARI SILK

GODESS DURGA

DEVOTEES WORSHIPING GODESS DURGA

GODESS DURGA SLAYING MANHISHASURA

 Our granddaughter, Kini insisted that we go to “the dance of sticks” It was quite a family event.  Women and children were dressed in their best outfits.  It reminded me of a rock concert.  I’m glad that I went but a onetime experience for me.

 Durga Puja is also celebrated by wearing new clothes.  I am happy with my new sari and had fun shopping with Kini and Bahurani (daughter in law) Purnima.

GRANDAUGHTER, KINI MODELING HER NEW OUTFIT

LOVE MY NEW SARI

The down side is that traffic was snarled everywhere.  This really slowed down our trip to Rahmatpur, my husband’s ancestral home and birthplace.  On the last day the Idol Durga is taken and immersed into the Ganges River.  This coincided with our travels back to Patna.

NATIONAL HIGHWAY OBSTRUCTED BY DEVOTEES TAKING DURGA TO GANGES RIVER

TAKEN FROM OUR CAR WINDOW

If you desire to know more about the Godess Gurga go to this link.  http://hinduism.about.com/od/hindugoddesses/a/durga.htm

IT'S BEEN AN "IT'S INDIA" SORT OF WEEK

It has been an “It’s India.” sort of week for me.  The monsoon type of weather has returned, this time cold and damp.  My freshly washed cloths won’t dry.  Normally not a problem, I dry them in front of our portable heater blower but it craped out.  It’s under warrantee.  The company is having someone pick it up on Tuesday for repair, or so they say.  Everything operates on “Indian time”.  I don’t have faith it will happen as stated.  Hopefully it will be it up while Kamla is here.  She was shocked at the to do deep cleaning list I gave her.  That is another story. 

We are leaving for Delhi  by overnight train this evening. We have booked a sleeper car so the trip won’t be too bad.  Some clothing I had planned to take will not be dry. It has been on the line for two days.

Sunday, yesterday we tried to make an 8 hr. hotel reservation.  We get into Delhi ay 4 AM and fly to Patna 6PM.  The hotel answered but stated that it is Sunday and we cannot make the reservation until Monday.  He answered the phone for God’s sake!  Why couldn’t he just go ahead and make the reservation?  We previously tried to make an online reservation but the site was requesting a zip code and the online form had no place to put it.  Therefor we could not complete the transaction.  

We will be in Patna for a few days then on to Rahmatpur Ram's village via car.  The house there has been empty for a long time.  All of the copper wiring disappeared a long time ago.  Ram has arranged for the house to be cleaned and made ready and for the use of a generator.  It sounds like we will be kind of camping out.  At any rate I am excited to visit my husband’s birthplace and meet his family that is still there.  I’m also happy to be in some warmer weather.  Hopefully not too warm, I hear it is still on the hot side.  

Oh, I must remember to take toilet paper.  It is not widely used here.