Meeting the Doms- ERISHA SUWAL

Photos Courtesy: Bhola Paswan
Laxmi Raut and his family in Bhauratar-3 of Parsa district. Laxmi’s sick daughter lies on the ground.
Close to the clock tower in Birgunj is Ranighat, near abandoned remains of a railway station, parts of the open space has become an open garbage field, with narrow trails running from the main roads between heaps of garbage to a small cluster of huts made of plastic sacks, wood, tin, any material that can be scavenged. Walking past some of these huts, we reached closer to the remains of the old railway station, the ruins of what perhaps used to be a ticket counter is now home to a Marik family.
Mainadevi Marik sat outside the door, amidst bamboo dust and pieces. Clamping the bamboo strip in one hand, she scrapped it off with a sickle-like knife to smoothen the edges and make uniform strips. She did not stop her work as Bhola dai and I started talking to her and interviewed her as part of our research on Doms.

We had arrived the day before, after a twelve-hour journey from Kathmandu to Kachanpur, Saptari, our base, and then to Birgunj. Bhola dai, researcher at Samata Foundation, wanted to research on Doms. As a Paswan (considered to be one of the privileged groups within the Madhesi Dalit community), he had witnessed the discrimination and untouchability that both non-Dalits and other Dalits practiced on Doms in Kanchanpur. As a journalist he had written about cases where Doms were not allowed into tea shops and also helped to resolve some disputes. His idea was much liked by late Suvash Dharnal, who I remember in our first staff meeting, was very excited about working with Madhesi Dalits and the Doms because little is written about them.
A Dom woman making a bamboo basket.
I had read about Doms in whatever research I could find, and was already intrigued by their way of life, especially their tradition of buying and selling villages. The two weeks of interviews and focus group discussion in Morang, Parsa, Saptari and Dhanusha were definitely not enough to understand everything about Doms, but it revealed a whole lot about their amazing bamboo crafting skills, the traditions, and the extent of untouchability practiced in Nepal.

Doms are bamboo crafters by tradition. Maina Marik was getting her bamboo strips ready to make it into a basket. She would sell it in the haat bazaar during Chhath festival and during weddings when using her baskets would be considered auspicious. She mentioned that in the old days only her basket used to be touched and the money thrown to the ground for her to pick. But nowadays they put the money on their hands. But this too was because she lived in an urban area. After a long conversation with her, we started talking about some of the Dom traditions that include lighting the fire for the person cremating the dead in exchange of something in cash or kind. This is when she said that was not a Dom but a Mester, who are traditionally sweepers. Her last name Marik, primarily used by Doms, and her bamboo work threw us off. She had fitted the conventional Dom definition. She explained that the professions were blending, especially in urban areas, but Mesters did not give fire for cremation.

This started the confusions on how Doms and Mesters view themselves and each other because Mesters believe Doms are “below” them as they don’t drink water touched by Doms and do not marry their daughters off to a Dom family. At the same time, Doms view Mesters to be below them as they are sweepers and do the dirtier work. To add to the confusion are Dhanikars, which the National Dalit Commission has listed as being the same as Doms, which they deny. Dhanikars consider themselves above Doms because they do not eat leftover food given by others, a practice followed by Doms.

At the beginning of the journey, we faced a serious challenge. The references for a definition, based on research done in Kathmandu and definitions from the National Dalit Commission had misguided us and we had a bigger question to tackle – who are the Doms? This turned out to be an opportunity to understand the community – their history, their perceptions of themselves vis-à-vis other Dalits and non-Dalits and their culture – rather than a situational report. Bhola dai was especially puzzled with the question. If he was puzzled, one can imagine how confused I – a Newar from Kathmandu on a second trip to the (deeper) Madhesh – must have been.

Before leaving Bigurnj, Bhola dai and I were invited to Bakr-Id feast at Ali Asgar’s house in Bishrampur, Birgunj. He was one of the enumerators for the survey. The CDO and a few other important government officials accompanied us. Bhola dai had said it was in a durgum (remote) area. When we got close to his house on a vehicle, I said, how can it be durgum if you can get here by car. He responded with a laugh, “this is Madhesh, it’s flat, you can go anywhere on wheels.” I thought to myself, this is a big economic advantage for Madhesh. Two beds placed in a right-angle filled most of the small hut. We sat on it and soon paper plates with beaten rice and probably one of the best khasiko masu (goat meat) I have had in my life was served. The food was so good that I forgot the discomfort of eating on top of a bed.
After the meal, we had to get down to what we had come for – conduct a focus group discussion with the non-Dalit community, in this case, the Muslim community to understand the interrelations between the Doms and non-Dalits. Part of the discussion was to draw a map of the village identifying where the schools, primary health centers, temples and other public service delivery points were located. As soon as they started pointing out where the secondary school was located and the government water pipes or the primary health centre, it was clear that it was located in the wards that were predominantly non-Dalit.

Next stop was Dhanusha. We decided to interview some older Doms so that they could shed light on some myths about the origin of Doms. Sadly, Dom elders are hard to find. Many Doms do not make it after 45 or 50, and very few families had living grandparents. The common reason cited wasthe excessive drinking and eating of pork meat. But, poverty and their position in society have more to do it. We managed to get stories on Doms of Dhanusha from the Ramayan days. When Ram came with his janti to marry Sita, he saw many leaf-plates outside one house. He thought that this must be the house with the wedding feast. They walked in to find that it was a Dom house and when asked why there were so many leaf-plates, it was explained that Doms ate the left-over from feasts. It was a practice. King Janak was infuriated that the Doms confused Ram so punished them by ordering that Doms should build only one-storey houses.

With stories from the heart of Mithila, we headed to the industrial town of Biratnagar. Here, one thing was clear. Professions alone are no longer sufficient indicators of an individual’s caste in urban areas as it allowed greater fluidity in identities. Young Doms in Biratnagar said that these days they have stopped making bamboo goods because there is not much money in it. One young Dom added, “these days even Pahadis (those living in hills) have started making bamboo goods and people also use plastic baskets. So we have started working as sweepers in the municipality.”

We returned to Saptari with the determination to get clarity on Doms and how they viewed themselves and how others viewed them because it was the last district in our journey. The distinctions between Doms, Mesters and Dhanikars mattered to these communities, but for the non-Dalits they were all the same. In Saptari, we decided to visit Chinnamasta VDC. It has a large Dom settlement and also the Chinnamasta temple was the site of Dom protests to enter a temple.

On the way to Rampura, a village 15 minutes away from the border, I heard stories of the notorious landlord who harbored thugs in India and used them to kidnap people or threaten those who did not follow his orders. Bhola dai, praised my bravery for traveling to the deeper Madhesh as a Pahadi. I wondered why he would say that and realized that tensions were rife and lives were lost on both sides of the East-West highway during the Madhesh Aandolan.

We passed through the Mandal basti, the Gupta basti and towards the end of the village reached the Dom basti. Unlike Dom houses in other rural areas, the houses here were made of mud, had straw roofs and were bigger and cleaner. It turned out that Doms in this community even owned some land, a rare occurrence. Upon digging into how the Doms in Rampura were better off than others that we had seen in the rural areas, we got a story from Jukti Marik. He said that, Indian pig traders would rest in their houses en route to Dharan to sell the pigs. One day his grandfather went along and saw that it was a profitable business and took up pig trading as a profession. This is how they managed to make more money.

Confusion remains on the relations between Doms and Mesters, but the two castes appear very close. Inter-marriages were not allowed between the two communities. And, each one thought that it was above the other. Doms and Dhanikars, according to myths, are like two brothers with one (Dhanikars) becoming richer and the other (Doms) becoming poorer during harsh conditions of a famine.

Throughout the trip, in addition to the identity confusions, we had heard of the practice of buying and selling villages – gaun bechne chalan. This sounds strange at first because most of the Doms do not own land. What they sell is not the tangible property but the rights to sell. Doms make bamboo products such as baskets, fans, or nanglos, which are considered auspicious in the Madhesi villages during marriages and festivals. Each family in the Dom village has the right to sell in the village that they ‘own’ and usually there’s just one Dom household in a village. They have paper evidence of their ownership. These papers are not the Sarkari papers but papers that are signed by members of the Dom Panchayatee, whose membership may extend to Doms in India.

The families can buy and sell these rights as and when needed, when they have medical emergencies or other financial crises, for a hefty amount. If a Dom is found selling his goods in the village owned by another Dom, serious fights may also ensue. These fights sometimes end up in court.

Talking to Jukti Marik revealed the extents to which the practice affects their lives. Jukti had invested his savings in buying a piece of land in Rajbiraj but was not able to build a house. He first said that the Yadav neighbor would not let him build the house. Later, it turned out that the bigger challenge was that the Doms who had the “right” to sell in that village, were not allowing another Dom to build a house. The local informal economic system gave economic protection to some but for others it hindered mobility.

Despite the research, the book on Doms is like looking at the world of Doms through a keyhole. Much more work is needed. An Indian historian claims that their history can be linked to Romas of Europe. Their socio-cultural and economic practices are poorly understood. Also, how the Doms perceive themselves in relation to others is important because they are considered to be at the bottom of the caste ladder. This is how I saw the Doms, but I wonder, how does the world look like from their vantage point?

erisha@gmail.com

(Erisha and Bhola Paswan’s research on Dom community is put together in a book entitled “Identity of Dom community: Changing lifestyle” which was released this week in Nepali)
Erisha and Bhola are associated with Samata Foundation
 
source: theweek.myrepublica

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