Saturday, June 10, 2017

Banabibi: The Goddess of the Forest


"Banabibi" literally means the Goddess of the Forest. She is a local deity revered by the forest-going people of the Sundarbans. Irrespective of caste and creed, the honey collectors and fishing communities of the Sundarbans worship Banabibi. Each summer (April-May) several groups of men enter the Sundarban Reserve Forest for collecting wild honey. A honey collection trip is called mahal. Banabibi is worshipped before going to a mahal. Her blessing is absolutely required for the forest-goers as she has the power to protect them from tiger attacks. The story of Banabibi can be heard through Banabibi Pala--a folktale often performed by the residents of the Sundarbans. Banabibi pala is also called Dukhe Yatra. I organized such a pala while I lived and worked in the fishing communities of Gosaba, Sundarbans. I also watched it several times while living at Pakhiralaya--a village located on the boundary of the Sundarban Tiger Reserve. During the peak time of tourism, local people perform the Dukhe Yatra and earn some money. The actors in the lead roles can earn up to INR 2000-3000 per month during the four months tourist season.

Banabibi protecting Dukhe from the wrath of Dakshin Ray
The Dukhe Yatra is the story of Dukhe, a boy who lived with her widowed mother in a village in the Sundarbans. As they were very poor, his uncle Dhona or Dhonai suggested his mother to allow him to go to a mahal. Upon Dukhe's insistence, his mother somewhat allowed him to go to the forest. After reaching at their destination, Dhona and other honey collectors started looking for beehives. However, Dhona and his team were unsuccessful to locate a single beehive. This happened as the tiger god Dakshin Ray, who set an eye on Dukhe, was eager to have a human sacrifice. He appeared in front of Dhona and asked him to offer a human sacrifice. If Dhona could offer a human to him, he would be rewarded with seven boats of honey. Initially Dhona rejected to offer any team member to him. The tiger god then threatened him by saying that he and other honey collectors would be devoured by crocodiles. Thinking of the fate of all, Dhona pleaded with Dakshin Ray and Dakshin Ray asked him to leave Dukhe in the forest. Dhona then forced Dukhe to bring fuel wood from the bank of Kendokhali and left him on the island. When Dakshin Ray was about to kill Dukhe, he called out to the goddess Banabibi. Banabibi appeared at the right moment and rescued him. She also ordered her brother Shah Jangoli to go after the tiger god. In the end, Dukhe was sent to the village with gold, honey, and wax.    

A local potter making the idol of Banabibi before her annual worshipping 
The shrine of Banabibi is always built outside of one's house. As she is the goddess of the forest, her shrine or shelter is built in a corner of the courtyard and often along the unpaved roads. My first encounter to such a shelter occurred when I was walking towards Dayapur ferry. She is usually worshipped during January-February. During this time, the forest goers, especially the honey collectors and fishers, build her new idols and place those on her shrines. The placing of new idols occur during the late afternoon. In the evening, people gather in small groups and worship her. Fruits, flowers, sweets, popped rice are offered and the Banabibi Johuranamah is recited. 
 
Bababibi Pala performed by the local people at Pakhiralaya, Sundarbans
Author: Priyanka Ghosh, University of Kentucky


Notes from the Field



"Notes from the Field" was originally published on the University of Kentucky Political Ecology Working Group's website in July 2012.  The original web-page does not exist anymore. So, I just decided to publish it as a blog post. 



How is my research going? Well, it’s a question one needs to ask occasionally in the field, to be conscious about what’s happening around them.  However, if one dwells on this question too much in the field one might become tired of questioning oneself, which might lead to a lack of motivation in the field.  Instead of trying to control every situation, trying to turn it in one’s favor it is better to let those go! This “letting go” type of attitude is very necessary in the beginning, when someone starts fieldwork in an unknown setting, when one is not so sure how to begin with and whom to talk to.  The first few weeks could be tiring and there could be little or no progress in terms of academic productivity.  At least that is what happened to me. 

I arrived in Kolkata in the Middle of March, 2011.  It was not until April 16 that I could visit my primary study site: Gosaba. Those days were simply spent on settling in my ancestral house in Kolkata.  I had no internet connection in my house and things had changed since I left Kolkata in 2009.  Wireless internet connection was now available in the city and I applied for one in which you simply carry a data card with you wherever you go.  However, in my field there is no electricity so carrying a laptop means one would just increase the weight of their luggage.  So, my initial days in Kolkata were very frustrating in terms of “doing things in the field” and I was not very poised and calm.  Often I felt I was stuck and controlled by situations on which I had hardly any control.  During this initial phase of my fieldwork I met the secretary of the Tagore Society for Rural Development (TSRD), an NGO working in the Sundarban region since 1970s, to arrange my accommodation in Gosaba.   

On April 16, I was immensely delighted because I visited Pramila’s house in Satjelia, Gosaba and talked to her about my staying.  I was accompanied by my friend Debarati Mukherjee on this first visit.  I was extremely excited to spend my days in a village something that I had never done in the past.  In my mind I was worried too because this was the first time I was going to live in a mud walled straw thatched house without electricity, without a proper toilet, and without a private space to take bath.  Entering my study site was not difficult for me because I was introduced to Pramila in 2009 during my preliminary fieldwork.  At that time Pramila was working at a primary health sub-center in Luxbagan, Gosaba.  She was an active health worker of the Tagore society for Rural Development (TSRD).  After arranging accommodation I spent few days in Kolkata busy in networking.  During this time I met an official from the Forest Department and talked about my possibility of venturing deep into the forest to watch fishing and crab collection. What I needed from the department was to get permission to enter the protected area (STR), but I was discouraged by that officer.  He was worried about my safety in the forest, accompanied only by some fishermen in a boat (which means entering the forest in a fisherman’s boat without the protection of any forest guards).  He was also hesitant to send me with some forest guards in a boat provided by the Forest Department.  The safety issue with regard to sexual overture was his main concern! And if that happened to a female researcher the department’s reputation would be at stake!
After the meeting with the officer I was very depressed thinking of women’s position in the Indian society. At that moment I realized that every researcher needs some sort of mental support from their close friends or family members when they are working in the field and this might be much needed for those who work in somewhat unfamiliar environment, far away from their homes.  Interestingly, the same officer helped me in obtaining some reports and documents of the Forest Department without which my research wouldn’t have taken a good shape.  So, I personally have no grudge against him and I think it is the patriarchal mentality embedded in our society which tends to think of women as lesser beings than men.  The reflection of the same mentality was embedded in my interviewees’ queries, both among men and women of the fishing communities of Gosaba. They were surprised to know that I have no brother and my mother only has two daughters! In the beginning I used to get annoyed and used to try hard to be calm in front of them, but as my fieldwork progressed slowly in the fishing community I secretly started taking pride in declaring that I have no brother!  The women of the community were also interested to know my age and marital status.  Some men also suggested that I should get married with a fisherman and live the rest of my life in the village.  In that way I would be able to consume fish and crabs every day. They commented that in Kolkata people don’t get a chance to eat fresh fish.  The other reason they provided was that a rural, less educated man will listen to an educated urban woman and will be under her control forever! Even we, the researchers, might differ from our subjects in terms of personal opinions we should try to be patient while interacting with them.  I think it is necessary to be open enough to listen to their opinions (not related to the fieldwork always) and try to understand those underlying factors which have shaped their world view over the years.
Before ending this field note I would also like to point to the issue of positionality, which my fellow researchers, who are right now working in a rural setting in a non-Western world, like me, might experience.  It’s, we the researchers, are the intruders in the lives of our interviewees and that is why my whereabouts were being constantly observed.  One day, when I was returning from the schoolpara (the area where a high school is located) in the afternoon I was asked by a man whether I went to the ferry-ghat[1] in the morning.  I was surprised because I had gone to the ferry-ghat that morning to see one of my friends off who had visited the village just for a day.  By this time people knew me well and I thought that I wasn’t observed anymore, but I was wrong!  I realized I was observed by the local residents because I was considered an outsider in the community who encroached on their space.  In terms of positionality I was considered both an insider and outsider simultaneously.  I could speak their language, Bengali, fluently but my Bengali was sophisticated and urbane.  On the other hand I did not know some of the local expressions.  The residents of the fishing communities largely arrived from several districts of present day Bangladesh before the partition of India in 1947.  So, their Bengali dialect is somewhat different from the Bengali dialect of those who live in West Bengal, India.  Nevertheless, I shared the same ethnicity with my interviewees, local residents considered me an urban elite of Kolkata, who had no knowledge of the tides, rivers, forests and animals.  Speaking the same language provided me an immediate access to people’s lives, their culture and religion.  I already had information related to rituals like worshipping the goddess Banabibi (the goddess of the forest) before entering the forest for catching fish and crabs and collecting honey.  But this information probably restricted me from making further, detailed observations.  It blocked my thinking process on the role of Banabibi in fishers’ lives. So, maintaining naivety was harder in my situation and because of this I might have missed some additional information in the field. 


Author: Priyanka Ghosh, University of Kentucky

[1] Ferry-ghat is the place from where mechanized boats or bhotbhoti carry passengers and help them cross the rivers in the Sundarban.