Monday, Jan 28 2002
The Other Side - Shaili ChopraShaili Chopra is doing her masters in Broadcast and Television at the Asian College of Journalism, Chennai. She is an avid traveller and is planning to make documentaries and short films in the near future. Despite her busy program in television she finds time to write, which is a passion for Shaili. She believes the ink of a writer more sacred than the blood of a martyr. Her writings and poetry are also published in Times of India, Indian Express, Pioneer, Femina among various other magazines and newspapers.
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For most people, the word slum conjures up a one-word description in almost
all languages - chhee (meaning yikes). Slums from city to city vary in
religious and caste composition, level of education, food habits, poverty
levels, malnutrition, unemployment etc. but the one thread that links them
all is sanitation: poor sanitation or no sanitation at all.
What does sanitation really mean? According to one definition, it is the
formulation and application of measures designed to protect public health.
But have you heard of mini-towns without bathrooms? Bathrooms only for
Brahmins and none for the others, as if even shit was twice born? Or slum
dwellers using Whisper, Kotex?
Matters of personal hygiene generally receive little or no attention in
slums. And for women, given the complexities of their biology, it is almost
a luxury to remain clean. Access to condoms, sanitary napkins and post
delivery counselling is inadequate. However, it is alleviating to note that
most slum women in Madras are aware compare to many of their economic
counterparts in the north, such as in the states of Gujarat and Delhi.
Slum on G.N. Chetty Road in T. Nagar
A smoke screen veils Parmeshwari's face as she cooks rasam on a mud chulha
fuelled by wood. Simultaneously she is washing her utensils and clothes. She
bathes, clothed. All from the same water. The pots are black with scum of
grime, charcoal and food. The drain besides her is half open and infinite
mosquitoes float, some sucking and some drowsy with blood. The Chetty slum
(unofficial name) has 500 Adi Dravida families living in a perimeter of one
kilometre. It has one non-operational latrine.
Two promised pots of water a day by a private tanker keeps Parmeshwari's
household running. There are no bathrooms or latrines. If nature calls at 4
a.m., the walk is at least 10 min to any place that may even be
inconspicuous. She complains that while men can pee anywhere, women must go
in dark places to defecate.1
Problems such as lice, strange rashes and body odour are acute. About
menstruation, Parmeshwari answers matter-of-factly, " I use Whisper." Her
neighbour Mary uses Kotex. "Cloth is complicated," says Mary dismissingly.
She works as a sweeper in an office for Rs.500 a month. 2
Parmeshwari has two daughters namely Aishwarya and Baby Kalyani. She
asserts, "Operation after two child." Tubectomy is common in this slum. As
she says, " tube baandh deta hai." Condoms and contraceptive have however,
not been in popular use here.
The demographic effect of sterilisation of women in India remains small and
estimates of Contraceptive Prevalence Rates (CPRs) are as low as 46% for
Hindus and 38% for Scheduled Castes.
In Ahmedabad for instance, while nutrition levels of women in slums are
relatively high, they still prefer using cloth during menstruation. They
wash the cloth for re-use. There are two issues here. Firstly, the sheer
unsanitary method of re-using cloth in this day and age and secondly, the
humiliation in being isolated from the household chores until the cycle is
complete.
One possible derivation could be that while the female literacy in Tamil
Nadu and Gujarat are not widely different (48.6% and 51.3% respectively),
the relationship of a woman with her kin is more comfortable and closer in
the former state, resulting in easier survival and respect. More so, the
notion and convenience of using Kotex and the likes reflects their
aspirations to grow in modern society. These aspirations are more pronounced
in Tamil Nadu.
Slums in parts of Delhi and Uttar Pradesh have alarming tales to tell. Many
women, because of illnesses or anaemia do not have enough discharge. As a
result they stuff their sarees into their uterus to absorb any bleeding.
70-year-old Prabha, recalls doing so in her younger days in her village near
Raigarh, "Kutch hai hi nahi tho kahe" (if there is nothing (discharge) then
why?)
There also exists a relationship between caste distinctions and sanitation.
While the Brahmins, who bathe in common bathrooms, are considered themselves
clean, the Vaniyars, who bathe outside in the open are 'dirty'. Kazi Garden,
a slum in Nungambakkam is an instance.
Kazi garden houses 25 Vaniyar families, 1 Dalit family, one Christian and 9
Brahmin families. Issues of caste and rituals continue to make absolute
decisions among who live here. A two feet wide cemented path divides Kazi
Garden, which is more of a wall in the mind than in fact. The 9 Brahmin
families don't cross it for Vaniyars like Rajkumari and other "meat-eating
dirty people live there". The Brahmins call the other side a slum.
Rajkumari and her family earn about Rs.2000 per month. Her caste is Vanniyar
Kula Chatriyar. Mr. K. Venkatramani, who also lives in Kazi Garden is a
Brahmin. He is clerk in government organisation and earns Rs.2,500 per
month.
The Brahmins of Kazi Garden have two bathrooms for 9 families. The other
side has no bathrooms. They have to cycle/walk down for ablutions to
Valluvar Kottam, where they pay Rs.2 per person to use a stray maidan.
So at the outset, Brahmins are considered clean by birth and virtue. The
Dalits/ Vaniyars/Adi Dravidas are not offered a bathroom/latrine in the
first place, because of the virtue of them being born as scavengers and
considered "used to" to bathing in ponds and by streams. 3
* India Economic Development and Social Opportunity, Jean Dreze and Amartya
Sen
** Demographic Aspects of Development: The Indian Experience, Praveen M.
Visaria
Slums are slums because they are dirty and unkempt. Some commonly held views
on slum are: mosquitoes breed there, people smell, there is garbage all
over. My experiences of slums have been no different, sadly, but my
impressions and receptions questioned for reasons, and consequently found
answers.
- Parmeshwari explained her anxieties of rape and molesting by letting her
daughters go to defecate in the open. He tone was genuinely pained from
helplessness of being a woman.
- Mary and Parmeshwari both have worked as domestic help in nearby homes.
They learnt some broken English there. It is heartening to know they are
sensitive to change in sanitation facilities. Their matter of fact attitude
reflected a sense of pride and a high level of consciousness.
- It was absolutely shocking to know that slums, where most houses are made
of brick and mortar, there is a corporation school and some availability of
water, there are NO bathrooms. I asked Rajkumari if everyone could pool in
money and make a common latrine but she said it would cost Rs.13,000 and no
one wanted to take the initiative.
Slums are a creation of the same urbane who shrug off these slum dwellers.
The 'dirt' of the slum is actually a collection of urban leftovers. It is
disturbing to see slum dwellers survive and scavenge on what the urban
consider filth and it is even more tragic that this urban lot don't
acknowledge this as though they were the not so proverbial brahminical
'pure'.
Yet another disconcerting aspect of slums is that while we have statistics
galore, in general and in particular on rural and urban social indicators,
there is insignificant documentation, which deals specifically with slums
and its definite problems. Often as a result one has to use All India
readings for literacy, poverty, social infrastructure etc.
Till we connect again...
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