That day, the sky was a tapestry of clouds, no sunlight, just a cool breeze mirroring my emotions—what a day for a field visit. As I stepped into the Dalit Tola community in Triveniganj, Bihar, I was swept up in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. It was my first community visit.
Two years ago, when I began my journey in the development sector, I was sure I wasn’t cut out for fieldwork. I believed there was nothing new to learn from visiting the field that wasn’t already known. Who didn’t know about electricity problems, low income, and education challenges in rural areas? It all seemed obvious to me, so what would a field visit add to my learning? Working on the ground didn’t fit into my idea of a “professional life” or my comfort zone.
However, as I progressed in my career, conversations with experienced leaders in the development sector made me reconsider. They often credited their grassroots experiences for their accomplishments, emphasising that true impact requires first-hand understanding. Intrigued, I decided to challenge my beliefs and try fieldwork.
Fast forward to joining ZealGrit Foundation two months ago—a commitment to unlearn and relearn. My role allowed me to engage in ground-level work, starting with facilitating health-education training sessions for adolescent girls in schools. Soon, an opportunity for a deeper community visit arose, and I was ready to roll, thinking I already knew the ground realities.
As I reached Dalit Tola, the feeling was overwhelming. Why? Starting with the primary view, their houses were built of hay, mud, and dried bamboo sticks, barely providing any shelter from the elements. I wondered how they held up in the rain.
Nearby, at the hand pump, a teenage girl was washing utensils blackened by the flames of a mud stove. My conviction that knowing about these issues was enough crumbled. Standing there was different.
While I was soaking in this sight, I was offered a chair to sit on—a symbol of respect—though it only had one armrest, the other broken with a cut at the backrest. They sat on the muddy floor while I had a seat. This made me realise the power structures we live in. Women were wearing sarees, their heels were cracked, and the younger children were barely dressed, their pants hanging loose. It was overwhelming for me.
I expected that they would need a long explanation of our purpose. On the contrary, they were very welcoming and shared their everyday life stories with me. I witnessed the extent of caste discrimination first-hand. When I asked if the children went to school, their grandmother responded, “These kids who roam here and there like Musahar, what will they study?” shocked me. The term “Musahar,” used as a derogatory reference, revealed the deep-seated discrimination in the society. Musahars are one of the most marginalised communities in India. Another blog is coming soon on this!
The other women shared their hardships, saying, “We struggle to gather enough money for food; how can we afford school dresses or books for our children?” Hearing this was poignant. However, I was surprised to learn that despite these challenges, they had smartphones, with one in every four family members. When asked about smartphones, they said they are for video calling their husbands, who are migrant laborers and visit them once every few months. Video calls were the only source to keep them connected with the family.
One woman proudly shared videos of her children creating lip-syncing reels, showcasing unrecognised talent. However, she admitted the phones were rarely used for educational purposes. In the meanwhile, a three-year-old boy came running with a mango-flavoured packed sugary drink in hand, referring to it as “juice”. I asked if it was a part of their routine diet, and the mother of the kid laughingly said, “Yes, 40-50 Rs is a daily expense on their juice, samosa, and chips; what to do!”
Now, previous Anshika would have said they should know how to prioritise their resources. But, the new empathetic Anshika realises that their choices and actions were influenced by many other determinants than just money, such as lack of awareness, educational status, and so on.
The mothers are the ones under the shade of whom a baby grows up, and if they and adolescent future mothers were aware, it would create a ripple effect on their families.
Although this visit gave me a peek at their challenges, it also made me realise that there is so much that we have to be grateful for, and with all that we have, we can do a little for people who don’t!
If I had never visited the ground, I would never have understood the underlying reasons behind the issues we aim to solve, which is creating opportunities and resources for better nutrition and health care for the rural marginalised communities.
On my way back, I was in a swirl of emotions—curious, happy, sad, confused, overwhelmed, and whatnot!
While I’m not yet equipped with all the solutions, I now see the importance of exploring ways to connect with them effectively. Until now, I viewed the situation through a single lens, influenced by my assumptions. Now, I seek solutions rooted in their lived experiences. I’m glad I chose this journey. Understanding ground reality first-hand shifts our approach from mere sympathy to genuine empathy. These experiences provide invaluable insights that cannot be gained from a distance.
My first community visit to Triveniganj transformed my perspective. I’m excited to see what future experiences bring and share them with you through our blog series. Subscribe for such field stories and more.