DARJEELING, INDIA
Jenn Lambert, a friend from the Northern Film School, and I returned from a five-week shoot in India clutching fifteen hours of footage with a view to making a forty-minute documentary film about the Lepchas, an Indian hill tribe. We hope to show it at film festivals in the UK and perhaps even beyond. The footage focused on one family in a remote Himalayan village as well as Lyangsong Tamsang, the head of the tribe. Our goal was to capture on film the role of the Lepchas’ own language, as a means to preserve the identity of this ancient tribe. We also aimed to expose how learning the English Language was understood as a tool to surviving in the contemporary world. This seemed of particular relevance for the younger generation, many of whom aspire to break away from their families’ traditional agricultural lifestyle and enter into professional employment in Indian cities. Interestingly, many of these young people also look to return home after pursuing their career, signalling a strong loyalty for the Lepchas and their “traditional” way of life. The reality we encountered was oozing with nuanced complexities and possible contradictions that, contrary to popular thought, did not show the English language to be an all-conquering global force.
Alongside our objective of relating to the impact of language on the hill tribe, I also harboured a strong desire to capture on film a quality of living which I have never experienced in a westernised context. This trip was in fact my second visit, having previously spent six months living with a family in one remote village tucked away in the foothills of the Himalayas when I was eighteen. At the time I had immersed myself in the Lepchas’ simple joy of living life, full of laughter and fun, despite the physical hardship of their agricultural existence. The question that plagued me – could this be captured on film? This was the tension I lived with initially. Would Jenn share my pleasure in the Lepcha spirit? At first, we faced numerous challenges: the struggle of bringing out the cumbersome equipment; the disappointment of losing the third member of our team (our cinematographer returned to England after only one week of shooting for personal reasons); finding methods to film and not offend the Lepcha culture. Luckily, it soon became apparent that Jenn wanted UK audiences to feel the heart of a place as much as me.
The sheer beauty of the Outreach project lies in the academic freedom that it offers to students. The topic of study refreshingly stemmed from our own gut instincts as opposed to a conventional academic syllabus. More students need the chance to experience this. Extraordinary projects were carried all over the world which enabled students to learn a vast amount about what it takes to be an nthropologist in the field. Watch this space for details about the London premiere of our documentary.
Steph Linsdale
SON-KUL LAKE, KYRGYZSTAN
During my fieldwork I lived and worked alongside a family of 7 semi-nomadic pastoralists living in Kyrgyzstan. The project aimed to explore notions of ‘radical otherness’ and relationships to animals through the eyes of highland horse-herders. They stayed in yurtas between June-October at an altitude of 3000m, keeping various grazing animals. The family derived daily dairy and meat products from their livestock, their favourite product being koumys – the mare’s fermented milk. This close reliance on animals for subsistence made it very interesting to investigate how people perceived the environment around them and how it inspired their cultural and material traditions, such as highly praised singing about the beauty of landscape and elaborate handcrafted yurta decorations.
Joanna Bojczewska
KENYA
As Maa-speaking people, the Maasai are as much the face of Kenya as the Big Five. Tourists travel to experience the myth of the Maasai in its natural habitat, when in reality the roots of this myth stem from the Kenyan Government, sold through its tourist offices. Glamourised and gift-wrapped with exoticism, the eco-tourist buys an irresistible package of palatable lies that culture is a commodity to be bought and sold in the open market.
The Maasai on their part have learned to take advantage of their commodification. They turn out in front of their manyattas (huts) as if in Hollywood. For a small fee, the tourist can both see this timeless creature, photograph it, be invited into a prehistoric hut and witness an age-old tribal dance. The value of this project for me was that it showed me in the field how culture is fluid, not fixed. Culture is dynamic and the Maasai are not exceptional to that rule. The shuka-wearing Maasai man is at home with a Coke, watching the news just like the urbanised man from Nairobi City. The eyes of the tourists must be tinted so that they see a tribe caught in a time warp. Culture can mean different things to different people. It can be seen as a commodity to be made money out of emasculated to the point where the Maasai have the same camera value as a buffalo. It can be seen as a source of pride, a constantly changing fusion of a people’s way of life, an expression of their totality.
We hope this initiative is something the Annual Fund will sponsor again, not only because it encourages Anthropology students to actively engage in their discipline, but also as it helps to spread a message about LSE students, as proactive and engaging members of society.
Antonia Savvides
DHARAMSALA, INDIA
I spent five weeks living in Dharamsala, Northern India, which for the last fifty years has been the political and religious centre of the Tibetan refugee community. I was interested in looking at how Tibetan culture was upheld in this Indian hill station and the importance of tourism in Dharamsala for elevating the Tibetan movement onto the international stage. I managed to find work as a volunteer at an online newspaper run by two Tibetan refugees whose aim was to provide Tibetans in exile with relevant and impartial news. This gave me much insight into the political underpinnings of life in this town and allowed me to become far more involved in the community. The project I established was extremely rewarding and not just in an educational sense; I forged some great friendships due to a truly great opportunity from the LSE Annual Fund.
Megan Davis
RAJASTHAN, INDIA
I was researching the Jain custom of Santhara – the voluntary fast unto death – undertaken by elderly members of the Jain community, for whom death is fast-approaching, usually due to a terminal illness. The process involves a gradual shedding of personal relationships; severance of food, water and medication intake; and an ascension to salvation (Moksha) through liberation and freedom. Studying both Law and Anthropology at LSE made me interested in examining the parallels between Santhara and suicide. Many Western critics of the custom have deemed it unconstitutional, and seeing real Jain families speaking about the custom gave me a fuller and interesting insight into the cultural aspect of the fast. Undertaking Santhara gives the deceased a saintly status not to mention propelling the recognition of the surviving family. To compare the custom to suicide is, in my opinion, a gross undervaluing of the cultural ritual and undermines the significance of the custom as a feature of Jain pride and dignity. Spending a few nights in various ashrams surrounded by Jain Saadhvis (nuns) who had undertaken Diksha (The Vow) was equally fascinating, giving me a insight into Jainism as a lifestyle rather than a religion. Indeed, they do not believe in a God and rather focus on how to live as a human being. Had it not been for the Annual Fund, I doubt that I would ever have been able to experience travelling through rural Rajasthan on a journey of self discovery. Alongside a brilliant and intellectually enhancing education offered by the LSE, this particular opportunity has given me a chance to develop as a woman, an adult, and an anthropologist. I would definitely recommend it to any student who has not yet identified their passions and is willing to make the most of a brilliant and life changing experience.
Sohinni Sanghvi
ROSIGNANO, ITALY
In Rosignano, Italy, I explored alternative medicines in a biomedical context, in this case yoga practiced by pregnant mothers instead of using traditional painkillers before and during labour. Interviewing around 60 women I noticed how their view on the body had changed: a new sense of identity, empowerment, and the inseparability of mind and body. Even if yoga has not yet been accepted as a valid prenatal course, the benefits these women gained were substantial. It was inspiring to find a situation where the body was not treated like a commodified entity and women were taught how to listen to their body. This experience allowed me to question certain medical aspects; therefore I would highly recommend it be funded again not only because it provides a way to interpret anthropological theory in the field, but also because it helped me to grow as an individual.
Arabella Ciampi