Khet Singh

Nirona, Kutch Gujrat

This is the story of Khet Singh (pictured). He is the youngest of four brothers and has studied through the 10th grade (completed high school). He and his family own farm land outside of Nirona, a larger village (population ~15,000) north of Bhuj, which provides for their livelihood. Currently there are 26 family members living in their house and the best I could break it down is as such:

4 - Khet Singh, his wife and 2 sons
10 - Devjibhai (older brother), his wife and children (6 girls)
2 - Khet Singh's Parents
1 - son of Khet Singh's brother's wife
3 - Khet Singh's eldest brother's children
2 - Goats
1 - Calf
3 - Other kids
26 Total

Talk about a full house. Many of the kids were staying at the house b/c they were still on summer vacation (most of them are pictured). Their house felt like a mini village with a barn for livestock, multiple separated rooms, and a water well all surrounding a tree in the center of the home. The home is fully powered, with running water (though it comes and goes) and they even have a small 13 inch TV. Their life is very very simple and peaceful.

Supplementing their agricultural income, Khet Singh is a 7th generation leather craftsman. His eldest brother's son is currently training in the art, making it an 8 generation family craft. And this was the purpose of my visit, of course.

Once again we commenced our relations with the best cup of coffee ever. Kutchhi coffee means - strong and just as sweet. It's served very hot in the equivalent of a third of an American coffee cup and is sipped from the saucer. And this was the beginning of my exposure to Kutchhi hospitality.

Before lunch, I was sat down on a mat and brought a pot of water and a plate to wash my hands in. Apparently this is a Kutchhi tradition way to treat a guest. Khet Singh took the plate away and then brought my food. On the first day for lunch I ate typical Gujarati food - potato shabzi, roti, daal, rice, sev (sweet), and lassi. The food was so incredibly spice that even Khet Singh did not eat it. I didn't have the guts to not eat the food, so I downed what was to be a stomach a few hours later. The cooking was exceptionally spicy b/c Khet Singh's 16-year old niece was learning to cook during her summer vacation. The next day though the food was amazing - the food was pretty much the same except instead of sev, we had sheero (sweet) and we also had home-made, fresh made makan (fresh butter). I've grown up hearing stories of Krishna Bhagwan - the makan chor (butter thief), stealing butter from pots and getting in trouble; And for the first time in my life I was actually eating makan. It was actually pretty good. The taste reminded me of yogurt, but the texture was much more firm. The makan was made from Khet Singh's herd of cows (the family also owns over 200 buffalo).

Once again being able to speak in Gujarati was a boon. Their actual language is Kutchhi, which in my opinion has very little resemblance to Gujarati b/c I couldn't understand a lick of it. I was disappointed actually that Khet Singh's mother (pictured) didn't speak Gujarati b/c I would have loved to converse with her. She was so elegant wearing traditional Kutchhi clothes: long cotton skirt, backless cotton top and large silver jewelry. Later on, I asked the family daughters if they would grow up and wear their traditional dress. The answer: most likely not.

I collected costing information on 15 products all in one day. In Kutch the dead zone is between 1-4, when you can't think about doing anything but hope that it gets cooler soon. So I used the time to chit chat with the family and take a nap. I thought it was interesting and humorous that Khet Singh wears anjan (eye liner). He said even his own family makes fun of him, but he swears that it is the reason that his eyes are so sharp considering how long he stays out in the fields.

It was a great pleasure for me to meet and interact with Khet Singh and his family. For one, their hospitality was amazing and genuine. But also they are the true reason I was motivated to work with World of Good and Asha – cultural art preservation. After 8 generations of leather craftsmanship, it really broke my heart to hear that Khet Singh was seriously considering leaving his craft. At one point in time, the family employed and up to 15 trainees at their workshop (which is located within their house). But now, the business is run by and employs only Khet Singh, his brother and his neighbor (though his nephew is also training over the summer). Raju Bhai, the neighbor, is quite a character – 25 year old bachelor, looking forward to getting married, always wearing a t-shirt unbuttoned practically to his belly button, wearing a chain around his neck and multiple bracelets on his hands. Raju Bhai, the only employee, is paid Rs. 200/day. Not bad you say. Well, actually it is considered low for Nirona considering that an individual can make Rs. 250/day for cutting sticks for fuel. That’s right. While the market minimum wage in Mandvi, which is some 65-75 km away from Nirona, is Rs. 60/day, the market wage rate in Nirona is Rs. 250. Granted stick gatherers will prolly work 12-13 hours a day to earn the 250, but I found the vast difference in the market wage rates to be astounding.

But considering the lack of employees, the minimum wage is not the reason Khet Singh is thinking about closing down shop. The biggest problem his is facing the huge jump in the cost of leather. Typically Khet Singh uses camel leather, which is already seasoned and finished, most likely from Rajasthan. Through my research, I was able to show him that on one of his products, he was not even recovering the materials cost, let alone paying his labor cost (or making a profit). The other issue that he is facing is the competition from products made from a cheaper synthetic (plastic) material called Raxin. The quality difference between the synthetic and genuine leather is obvious. Yet, apparently the Indian consumer does not recognize the quality difference and simply demands a cheaper product. So, Khet Singh is also making Raxin products. This made me realize that a large determinant of the sustainability of handmade products is whether the end consumer can differentiate and value and the quality between a handmade and machine made (Batik) and/or synthetic (leather) product. Lastly, another humorous point that KS brought up was that upon realizing that his products are leather, Hindu’s customers quickly drop the product and began reciting God’s name: “Hai Ram, Ram.” KS, a Hindu as well, said, “Don’t they realize that in every temple there is a dhol (drum) that is also made from leather?”

I began to realize the value that I could personally add through my experience with Khet Singh. The material I presented him about his own products gave him an understanding of how to price his products. It was amazing to me that I was able to uncover that he was not recovering even his materials cost on one of his products. Then considering his Rs. 200/day salary, most of his products were being produced at a loss. I’m not saying that KS is a liar, but I have no way to verify that indeed this is the salary he is paying, and so I presented the data assuming a Rs. 50/day wage rate (considered India's rural minimum wage). Even then many of his products were being produced at a loss.

I had a lot of free time on my last day with KS, so I passed the dead zone playing cards with the family children (pictured). We played Gulam Chor, a card game I haven’t played since my childhood in India. On our way back to the city we also stopped at Kala Raksha, another NGO established by an American, that nurtures traditional embroidery weaving amongst the Rabarri (nomads) tribes. Also, our wonderful Ric driver, Harish Bhai, made a stop for me at a peanut farm (pictures). I kept commenting on how the air outside of the city was very smelled very sweet. Harish Bhai told me that it was the peanuts.

Back to Reality

Mandvi, Gujrat

I have my family to thank for a lot of things, but on top of the list is teaching me to speak in my mother tongue. Being able to speak Gujrati has made such a remarkable difference in my ability to develop a relationship and solicit responses from the artisans and producers I’m working with here in Gujarat (in comparison to Mumbai). We all know I have a corky sense of humor, but believe it or not, my humor actually translates across cultures and it is such a relief that in addition to enjoying a cup of masala chai, I am also able to joke around and make people laugh. Having spent a day and a half with VGS, I made my mama proud – I was asked how I spoke such beautiful gujrati.

After drinking and perspiring nearly 5 liters of water, I concluded gathering my wage and product data. I noticed a trend that continued from my previous meetings with artisan groups I visited in Mumbai that didn’t settle well with me. I had reserved judgment, and am continuing to reserve judgment until the end of my trip. But I am an opinionated woman, so I am going to express my opinions about what I have observed so far (“so far” being the key word). I came to India with the notion that most handicrafts have an element of artistry that could not be duplicated with machines and therefore need to be preserved. But what I have found out so far is that in the name of cultural “art”, handicrafts are a good part simply part of an employment plan and purely an economic play. Let me explain.

The handicrafts sector is very inefficient and is resisting technological advancements. Now hear me out, there is a flip side to this. But first, from a purely business perspective, the handicrafts sector is inefficient because employing humans is cheaper in India (and many many parts of the world) than using machinery because (i) individuals and businesses (small) lack strong credit and thereby lack access to capital (ii) the poor infrastructure – unreliable electricity, water, etc. – makes it difficult to rely upon machinery (especially at the small business level), and (iii) labor is very cheap. The market minimum wage varies largely by regions, but I would say the lowest I have observed is near Rs. 60/ day (about $1.50/day). Now, this does not mean 8 hours a day. This means working prolly 12-13 hours a day and prolly in a physically demanding role.

In my opinion, many of these handmade products are being produced in human-equipped factories. For example, while Patwa’s jewelry products are beautiful, making these products by hand vs. machine does not increase the value of the product. Patwa’s artisans are in actuality minimum wage laborers that are mass producing products. Patwa’s equity should be in designing new products, and should not be limited to his labor.

When I visited a fashion scarves producer in Mumbai, I was a little jolted to find out that the firm doesn’t make a single product. They are simply a wholesale distributor/exporter – I’m not even sure all of their products are handmade. Any stitching work, embroidery work, etc. is outsourced. So I am a bit confused why a Fair Trade organization would work with a firm that has no direct impact on the actual scarf weavers. I hope to clarify this with Asha during my exit presentation. I’m sure there is more to the story than I am aware of.

When I visited a copper metal handicrafts company in Allibagh (off of the coast of Mumbai), I realized how naïve I was in my perception of the handicrafts sector. I figured there must be some particular reason why this copper metal workshop was located in Allibagh. I figured out later on that the reason the workshop was in Allibagh is not because the copper art originated in this area or the copper is mined from this area, but rather because the labor is cheaper off the coast of Mumbai than in Mumbai. Simple business economics: lower operating costs. Further, in Allibagh electricity is very unreliable, so the cutting and grinding machines that could be used to reduce the labor intensive work, cannot be used. This led me to question whether these products were being made by hand because of the nature of the handicraft or because in India the abundance of cheap labor reduced the incentive to modernize processes or upgrade systems.

The flip side of this story is that what it all comes down to, from a Fair Trade perspective and not a business perspective, is that the handicrafts sector is providing for these ‘artisans’ to earn a livelihood. However from both a social and business perspective, this is not a sustainable model. Because the reality of competition in our capitalist world is that machine made products for a large part ensure a higher quality, more standardized and larger output product. The largest competition that Patwa, fashion scarves and VGS face is from machine made products.

Which brings me back to VGS in Mandvi. Their largest competitive threat comes from machine- made, printed, Batik products. I realized that the art in Batik does not actually reside in any one person’s artistic ability rather the art is in the batik dye process. I’m not an expert to determine whether there is actually a value added in making the product by hand or not. VGS recruits young village girls and boys and trains them in the art of Batik. However, unlike the copper metal work, fashion scarves and jewelry making, Batik work did originate in Kutch. The lure of Batik is two fold – the colors (and thereby the dye and designing/printing) and the embroidery work that accentuates the designs. After calculating the daily wages of various artisans, I found out that the embroiderers were consistently paid much below the minimum wage (possibly Rs. 20/day (~$0.50/day). The point I left VGS with is that even though embroidery work is being outsourced outside of the shop, it is one of the most ‘value-added’ parts of their products.

I departed VGS on my first of many scooter rides (pictured). Below I've also included pics of my visit to Vijaya Villas Palace, where the hindi movie Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam was filmed. The pic at the top is of Mandvi Beach (notice the wind turbines on the beach).

Batik at VGS

Mandvi, Gujrat

The excitement of my project and the thrill of experiencing a world so different from mine awakes me at around 6:00AM every morning. Pradeep and I had decided to meet at 9:00AM. So with nothing to do after 8:00am, I decided I would go out looking for an internet café around my hotel. You know, make use of my time. The moment I stepped out of my room, I could feel eyes on me. After inquiring from the receptionist, I strolled down the street for a minute or so before noticing that there were no women on the street. I didn’t like that every single person I passed stared at me and decided that maybe it was not such a good idea for me to walk down the street by myself.

After Pradeep met me at my hotel, we proceeded to arrange for transportation to our destination - a town called Mandvi, which is about a 45-minute drive from Bhuj and on the coast of the Kutch pennisula. We arranged for a shared taxi - basically a humvee which in the states would typically seat 12, but in India crams 20 people. Good ‘ol Pradeep took care of me though and bought an entire row of 4 seats for the two of us. The cost per seat = $0.75.

The artisan group - Vivekananda Gramudyog Samaj (VGS) - is a different type of producer group than I was expecting b/c they are a sub-sect of another NGO (non-governmental organization or a non-profit) called VRTI (Vivekananda Research and Training Institute). VRTI is a rural development organization in India focused on water salinity issues in Kutch. For example they will conduct seminars to villagers informing them of various irrigation techniques (drip irrigation). Apparently there is a lot of ground water in Kutch, but the water is very salty which causes huge issues when considering that most people here are farmers.

I was a bit anxious about visiting VGS b/c I realized from my past visits that there is definitely a cutlural barrier. People need the time to feel comfortable with me. Also, while they’ve been prepped in advance about what I’ve come to do, they don’t exactly understand it.

Indians like to identify a stranger before proceeding with a conversation and like to ease into work. So, as soon as I entered the VGS office we commenced our relationship with a cup of tea. The first question they asked me is:

VGS: Where is your ‘native place.’
Priti: Tricky. What exactly are they trying to ask me? (in my head) I am born and raised in the US, but am Gujarati.
VGS: Where is your native place in Gujrat?
Priti: My grandparents migrated to Bombay from Tallaja.
VGS: Where is that?
Priti: What? They don’t know where a place within their own state is? Ok. (in my head) It is close to Bhavnagar.
VGS: O! Ok, where the mangos are? hahahha.
Priti: Uhhh. Yeah. Sure. (in my head)

After this intro, I slowly was able to inquire about the purpose and workings of VGS. VGS was created as an income generation project specializing in a Batik handicrafts. Batik, as I myself found out, refers to a process of dyeing and designing materials using wax. As you can see from the pictures below, the first step is for an artisan to “paint” on gray material with wax (pic 1). After that, the cloth is dipped in dye (pic 2), after which the wax (pic 2) is removed and the cloth is dried (pic 4). Though I could never survive in this workshop, generally the working conditions were decent. The indoor rooms lacked ventilation and were incredibly hot. Some of it is unavoidable due to the nature of working with wax. We inquired about this and were somewhat relieved to hear that they are renovating the workshop.

After viewing the process, we had lunch on the organization’s premise. I LOVE gujrati food. Though it is a bit oily, the vegetables are great and do a body good. The meal was accompanied by chas (buttermilk), salad, thick rotis (Indian tortillas), daal (lentil soup), and rice. Yummy and very filling. After lunch we were waiting a bit before starting work again and I began to feel very drowsy, almost like fainting. I thought to myself, I didn’t think I ate that much and realized that I was prolly reacting to the heat. Though we ate in a covered area with fans, it was still outside. I got to the point where I told VGS that I had to go back to my hotel to rest and would meet them the next day to finish. They insisted that I rest in their guest house and an hour later I emerged completely refreshed. The guest house was equipped with the fastest fan I’ve ever seen and yes! a western toilet!

VGS, as an NGO, is one of the most sophisticated producer groups I had visited. So I took for granted what value-add I would be able to provide. Before leaving Bombay, I had determined that while I was collecting data for my fair trade research, I wanted to leave the producer groups with something as well. So, as a self proclaimed excel queen, I created an excel-based template that presents cost and profitability information by product.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and had only collected data on 3 products. After the third item, my VGS buddies got very excited. Because while they keep their accounts, even using a computer, they had never analyzed their costing and profitability structure on a per item basis. It was gratifying to know that I could offer them something.

Jet Set

Bhuj, Gujarat

The majority of my fair trade research is to take place outside of Bombay, and thus I embarked for my first destination - Bhuj, Gujarat. In order to save myself from enduring a 17 hour train ride, I decided to take an hour and twenty minute domestic flight from Bombay to Bhuj. Well, that was the plan at least.

Overall my first domestic flight experience in India was pretty smooth. The service was good, with the exception of a little incident I had with the stewardess. I am carrying my passport and a fair amount of cash with me, so when I was told to place my ‘purse-size bag’ with these precious items in the overhead bin, I refused. Apparently there are no bags, despite their size, allowed with a passenger when seated in the emergency exit row. Forget about the fact that there are 10 pounds of magazines loaded in the seat pocket in front of me, but my tiny bag was not permitted to remain by my side. To avoid a huge scene, I proceeded to take out all my valuables from my bag and placed them in my lap – which was allowed because they were not in a bag. OK. Then I was asked if I need a brief on the safety precautions and procedures of sitting in the emergency exit row. I responded, “Yes, please.” Aside from the airline employees enforcing rules which they can’t explain, the service was excellent and the food was not so bad either.

Take-off was amazing. I have never seen Bombay by air during the day. I’ve been told that due to unions in Europe, all airlines coming from Europe arrive in India in the early morning. By air, the city is not quite as intimidating as on the ground. Perhaps it is because while the city is massive, it is largely flat – only more recently built buildings are over 4-5 stories high (b/c buildings up to 5 stories do not require elevator installation). From the sky, the large slum areas seem to tile the city.

I was flying on Jet Airways, which is a mid-price airline and prolly one of the most professional airlines as well. Aka. They don’t have a reputation for canceling flights at the last minute. The flight was pleasant. I made friends with the retail bank manager sitting next to me and an offshore vessel inspector from Singapore. Right when I thought that all the small talk was over, approximately 1 hour and 10 minutes into the flight, the pilot announced that due to technical difficulties we were going to return to the Mumbai airport. It was a bit scary b/c technical difficulties could mean many things yet the pilot ensured it was not a safety concern. Humf. So, though we were minutes away from Bhuj, we were going to turn around and head back to Mumbai – at least it was not a fuel issue :*) There is only one airline and one flight that flies to Bhuj. So I didn’t really have the option to take another flight. Maybe we had to return to Bombay b/c there is no commercial airport in Bhuj (Jet Airways has struck an agreement with the Indian Air Force to use their base). Once we landed in Mumbai it took about an hour for the airlines to decide that we would board another flight. In all, it took me five hours to reach Bhuj from Mumbai, which still beat sitting on a train.

Flying into Bhuj reminded me of home. When flying into Midland you can see that the outskirts of the city is dissected into endless square units with a lone horsehead pumping away within each square. Similarly, flying into Bhuj, the outskirts of the city is dissected into endless square units of tan brown and dry farmland manned by a lone tree within each square. For every 10-15 farm plots, would be a cluster of shaks. Motionless river beds were outlined in salt, though most were dry and awaiting the advent of the monsoons.

Many people are familiar with Bhuj b/c of the devastation and therefore international attention/relief the city and surrounding areas received as victims of a major earthquake (~7.0) in 2001. Bhuj is located in an area known as Kutch Gujarat, which is a dessert land that shares a border with Pakistan. The area is home to the ancient Indus Valley civilization also known as the Harrapa Civilization. While most of the major excavation sites are in Pakistan, the only major one in India is in Kutch. Most people living here, like in most of India, are farmers. Yet, people say it rains once every three years here. So, the harsh geographic circumstances of this dessert land (droughts) along the coast (cyclones) necessitates the people to be innovative to provide a livelihood and therefore in addition to the extreme dessert heat, this area is also known for its abundance of handicrafts – embroidery, copper bell making, batik, leather work, wood work, etc. And indeed they are beautiful...more to come on this.

I marked my arrival into Bhuj with rain – I felt really lucky. Pradeep, Asha’s social worker, and his wife, Anjana, picked me up from the airport (pictured). Upon leaving the airport, I felt like I had traveled back in time – it seemed like for every human, I could count a cow and dog wandering in the street; one of the first sites I saw was that of two women balancing four pots of water on their heads each; and just as everyone could identify that I was not from Kutch, I could distinctly identify tribe/village people by their elaborate and exotic dresses. Compared to Bombay, the change of scenery and pace were very much welcomed and I was very excited to see what was ahead of me.