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The Making of Two Documentary Films about Dalit in Nepal

Berit Madsen

"When you people first came to our village, we didn’t like you to film us”, Sundari Damai told us one day while we were sitting under a tree near her village. “We didn’t like other people to see us in our worn out clothes. But now we realise that others have to know the way we live in order to understand our problems. To understand how it is to live as a Dalit.”

I together with a Nepali associate Ganga Gurung was filming in the village of Pachnali in the far western part of Nepal for one and a half months. In the beginning most of the villagers were quite shy and reluctant to tell us about their life and the caste system. Now, after having spent six weeks in the village we gained their confidence.

The film project
As part of a joint project between MS-Nepal, DANIDA’s Human Right and Good Governance Dalit Support Unit, and myself, I was to produce two documentary films about the life of Dalit – the lower caste people, or untouchables, in Nepal. After an anthropological research on Dalit and the practice of the caste system Ganga and I started shooting two films in January 2001—one film intimately portraying the daily life of Dalit and the other focussing more on life circumstances of different Dalit groups in the hill as well as in the Terai region. 

For some reason almost no systematic research on Dalit has been carried out in Nepal, and even less on how the caste system works in practice. The practice of caste-based discrimination is illegal and punishable by law in Nepal. But in many parts of the country the caste system still forms an essential part of the cultural landscape. Prior to the shooting, I had to study, among other things, how this discrimination is experienced by the Dalit themselves, in which way it influences their life, how is the relationship between the upper castes and Dalit.

Leaving for the field
After spending a couple of weeks arranging things in Kathmandu, Ganga and I left for Pachnali village thr shooting area, which I had spotted when I joined in December as a member of a Dalit organisation FEDO’s base line research travel to Doti in West Nepal. 

The village, Pachnali, is situated on a hill ridge – about two hours of steep up-hill walking from the river banks in the Doti district. The district is a beautiful mountainous area covered with huge pine and sal trees, and small terraces cut into the steep mountain sides. The white impressive Himalayas follow the northern horizon and to the South one gets a picturesque view down the valleys. The turquoise Seti river winds through the deep gorges from the mountains to the low lands. 

The village is inhabited by people from all the Dalit castes of the hills – the Kami (blacksmith), Damai (tailors), Sunar (goldsmiths), Bhul (leather workers) and sub-castes such as Lohar and Tamata, as well as some upper caste households – Chhetris and Thakuris. Many of the upper caste houses are deserted, however, as their owners have moved down to the valley in order to get access to better farming land and water supply. All the lower caste houses are built of clay with roofs made of heavy stones in squares. There are about 100 households in the village. Each household consists of five to eight family members – wife and husband, the husband’s family and children. The first thing in the village that caught our eyes was poverty. Torn clothes hang out to dry on bushes; children run about bare footed dressed in thin, worn out clothes in the chilly winter breeze; the houses are very small and the material possessions rarely count more than a few pots, pans and bamboo baskets. There is no electricity in the village, and the rhythm of the day follows sunrise and sunset.

Discussions with the villagers
We were met with smiles and the most frequently asked question from our first day of arrival was: “Khaana khaio?” (have you eaten?). As they insisted we accepted some black millet bread with cooked vegetables on the top – the usual breakfast/lunch for the villagers.

We gathered the villagers to discuss the film and hear their response. The following days we had many meetings - especially with the men. What benefit would the film bring them? Some men felt that we should not film the women as they (the men) were more suited to answer our questions. After some time they understood that we needed to walk about freely and film the daily life as it takes place: to give a sincere representation of their living circumstances. 

The choice of focus
As the village is inhabited by people from several Dalit castes, it seemed more natural to find “strong characters” among the different castes, in order to represent the complexity of Dalit daily life. Secondly, this approach would take a basic anthropological knowledge into consideration: that no category whatsoever, and in this case the category “Dalit”, consists of one homogenous group of people. Difference in age, sex, life experience, access to power to define the social world and different caste identity - this complexity has a huge influence on how individuals think their situation and negotiate their position in society. By focusing on people from different castes, this complexity could potentially become part of the film.

The concept “Dalit”
As the concept Dalit goes, they don’t know how to put this new identity into practice, how to negotiate this new etiquette which has no clear connection to their daily existence. As one of the people we film tells us: “I don’t know why we are called Dalit. Is it because we are dirty? Because of our jobs? I really don’t get the point”. They were very eager to explain the difference between the different Dalit groups for us – their position in the internal caste hierarchy (which most didn’t agree upon!), their different caste occupations, their meat eating habits (whether they eat buffalo, beef and chicken or neither) which is cardinal in their internal hierarchical caste positioning.
As time passed by it became more and more clear to us that there is a fair amount of discrimination among the lower castes themselves - something they are much aware of themselves and see as a big problem for the creation of an equal society. As Sundari told us: “The Damais think that they are superior to the Kamis, the Kamis that they are superior to the Sarkis, and the Sarkis that they are further up in the caste hierarchy than us Damais. Everybody think that they are superior. If we don’t quit this kind of thinking among ourselves, how can we make the upper caste people treat us as their equals?” Sher Bahadur Bishwakarma, another of our main characters in the film, puts it another way: “The lowest caste among us Dalit is the Bhand. Now, everybody should start accepting food from the hands of Bhand. Then one day the upper castes will eat food from our plates.”

Film method: relation across the camera
For me giving space to the people in front of the camera instead of relying on a written narrative to structure the film - the talking on behalf of the people filmed – is important. It is a way to give back the word to the people who in this and similar cases haven’t got the authority to “speak up” in the society. 

The second film
By the end of March we were ready for the second film. When we were filming at Silgadhi we were astonished to see a Sunar (goldsmith) lower caste tole almost deserted as the people had left for the Terai in the hope of finding a better life in the more populated and hence more “anonymous” market area of the South. We realised that we had to locate the same Sunars in their new settings to learn about the difference between living in the Hills and in the Terai. Did they succeed in getting a better life? 

In the Terai we filmed in a Badi community – the people (women) who nowadays are mostly known for being engaged in prostitution. How can upper caste men sleep with the Badi girls - something which certainly must be understood as “touchability” - and at the same time consider the Badis as untouchable? We filmed a Dhobi (washer man caste) who makes a living by washing other people’s clothes, but still are considered ritually dirty etc. As the material for this film “jumps” in time and space, we structured the film in the editing with the beautiful songs and lyrics of Mr. Tirtha B. Gandarva and the musician Aavaas. 

Editing and public screening
The films were edited in Kathmandu. Many people saw the films while still being in progress. There were strong reactions from some upper caste viewers, such as one saying: “Of course we know we have the caste system in here Nepal, but when watching the scenes of discrimination, I feel ashamed”. The films have also been shown in Denmark and Yugoslavia with strong emotional reactions from the audience towards the people we meet in the films and their unprivileged life circumstances, such as: “And then this girl dressed up in her new sari and went to the restaurants, and still she was told to sit outside and eat just because of being Dalit…”.

A larger public screening was arranged by the staff at the MS-information section in Kathmandu in June. Many journalists and parliament members showed up, as well as members of various Dalit organisations among others. There were many reactions. Most of the audience appreciated that the films showed the actual life of Dalit through their own words and their daily life. Some felt that the films didn’t cover all aspects of the caste system and the various Dalit groups and their problems in Nepal. The films don’t embrace it all – but they let you experience the daily life and thoughts of some people, and in this way give you an insight into a very complex social world.

Film Review

Anne-Sophie Lunding
DW (NEPAN)

20th 2001 was the premier screening of two documentary films “We have the same kind of blood” and “Why Dalit?” Both films deal with the caste system, which forces Nepal’s approximately 4 million Dalits, or lower caste living under constant humiliation, repression and severe poverty. 

Neither of the two films have an external narrator voice, instead they rely completely on the comments provided by the involved locals. Film maker Berit Madsen says, “as a film maker and an anthropologist, my intention has been to tell the story of the Dalits from their own point of view.” 

“We have the same kind of blood” lasts 41 minutes and is shot in a remote village in Doti. The film shows how the restrictions imposed on the Dalits in this village go much further. The lower castes are not permitted to fetch water from the tap meant for the higher castes. Neither are they allowed to enter the temples, although they are also Hindus. Also when buying tea from local tea stalls, Dalits must bring their own cups and stand outside the shop. Members of the upper castes sprinkle water onto themselves for purification if they are accidently touched by a Dalit.

The film consists of, among other things, a heartbreaking incident of a young Dalit woman who goes through the trouble of borrowing a beautiful new saree from a friend before going to town. By wearing “good clothes” she wishes for once to get rid of the self awareness as a Dalit and to be treated as anybody else. At the road guesthouse, however, she is instantly recognized as a Dalit and is asked to dine in a separate room meant for the lower castes. 

The ingrown social values which allow the caste system to still exist are supported not only by higher castes. The film depicts how internal caste discrimination goes on between the Dalits themselves. Over and over, the people portrayed in the film argue that the caste system has always existed – that it is their custom, their tradition. Initiatives such as adult literacy classes, however, are slowly increasing the self esteem in the Dalit community.

“Why Dalit?” lasts 29 minutes and partly takes place in Southern Terai, to which a number of Dalit families have fled in order to escape the seemingly more oppressive conditions of their native mountain communities. Here, the Dalits seem less likely to accept their faith as the lowest ranking in the caste system; “We are not watched over or regulated. This is one of the reasons we left the hills – to give the children a better future.” But even in Terai, discrimination towards the Dalits continues to exist. 

But some are crossing the borders of the caste system. Two young men, Yogesh, a high caste Malla, and Raju, a Damai Dalit, have been friends since childhood and their intimacy is helping the parents of Yogesh to do away with the malpractice of sprinkling water over their body if they accidently touched a Dalit. The two youths are actively working to promote equal rights for the Dalits. Overall, the film conveys the message that the situation is slowly changing for the better, although superstition still prevails in some cases. 

The final note of the film gives an indication of just how severe the consequences of caste opression can be. A former prostitute, belonging to the Baadi caste, comes forward in spite of the touchy subject matter. Her concern is that many Baadi children, are rejected by their higher caste fathers, and therefore unable to obtain Nepali citizenship certificates. This means that such children are not allowed to go to school. 

The two films provide a thought-provoking insight into the lives of Nepal’s Dalits, although it might prove to be most efficient with foreign audiences. Nepalis who are well aware of the caste system will probably miss a more in depth and concrete discussion of the caste issue throghout the film. On the other hand, Berit Madsen’s film may be enjoyed solely for the purpose of enjoying the high quality and well chosen composition of the pictures, the local music and lyrics that goes with them, and, finally, the credibility and solidarity with which she has chosen to portray the Dalits. 

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