“A man from Great
Britain came to our village—Christian McDonaugh! He came to do his PhD; he did
it in Tharu culture and language. Our own village bhai [younger brother] was Christian McDonaugh’s guide.”
Every time Amar
Chaudhary sees me, he repeats this same monologue. This elderly man first came
walking through the backyard of the village home I stay at, plopping himself
down next to me as I sat by the outside stove on a January morning, trying to
stay warm. I’ve seen him at every village wedding I’ve attended since—usually,
he’s already had more than his fair share of jaar or raksi, and is
drunk by the time he sees me—and his apparition occasionally haunts the bus out
of Sukhrwar, or the storefront of a Sukhrwar bahini [younger sister] now married and living in Dang’s district
center, Gorahi.
At the most recent
wedding, I was sitting by myself, bored, so I was not opposed to him seating
himself near me. I interrupted his predictable monologue with questions. “So
has Christian McDonaugh returned since completing his fieldwork?” I asked. “Oh,
yes—his son came last year to the village. I don’t know what he studies,” Amar
told me. He started up his monologue again. “McDonaugh came to do his PhD in
Tharu language and culture…”
“What did you think
of his work?” I asked. “Oh, it was really good!” was the only response I got. “Christian
McDonaugh…”
“How did he come to
choose Sukhrwar anyway?” I asked.
“He was sent by D.P
Rajaure, at Tribhuvan University. Rajaure had come first to study; he
introduced him to the village. And our bhai
became his guide. He took him all around, and showed him Tharu culture.” After
a shocking pause, Amar asked me, “So what are you studying?”
“I’m looking at Tharu folk dance and music,” I said.
“I’m looking at Tharu folk dance and music,” I said.
“But what did you study?”
“I studied music.”
“Sing me a song! Sing me a sweet song!” was Amar’s next exclamation. He leaned in close to me, so that his half-deaf ears could hear me sing.
“Sing me a song! Sing me a sweet song!” was Amar’s next exclamation. He leaned in close to me, so that his half-deaf ears could hear me sing.
~
Upon my arrival back
to Kathmandu, I emailed the director of the Fulbright Commission, asking him if
he could connect me with someone who had D.P. Rajaure’s contact information.
The director had never heard of Rajaure, and commented that, if he had done his
research in the 1970s, he was probably retired by now. He gave me the email
address and phone numbers of the current chair of the department of
anthropology at Tribhuvan University—who also happened to be a Fulbright
alum—saying he might know him. My emails bounced back, so I cold-called the
guy. He knew D.P. Rajaure; he sometimes still saw him around the university. He
would get his contact information for me. A few days later, I received an email
from him, with Rajaure’s phone number. I called Rajaure up, introduced myself,
and he invited me to meet him at his house in Sanepa—about a 30-minute walk
from where I lived.
Rajaure met me at the Big Mart near his place as agreed. His
house was just down a small gully from there. He asked me how he could help me.
I told him that I was living in the village in which he had conducted his
master’s research, and had heard his name several times from older members of
that community, thus I had wanted to meet him. He laughed, surprised. He also
asked me where in the States I was from? When I said Riverside, California, he
was surprised again. His oldest son is in California with his family—not too
far from Riverside actually; Rajaure had been there on his last visit to the
States, so knew of the University of California Riverside.
I asked him how he came to choose Sukhrwar? He said that his
family is originally from a village near Sukhrwar in Dang, so he had spent
some time there previously, and consequently had done most of his research
there. He commented that he doesn’t have family there now—his parents passed
away, and during the Maoist insurgency, it wasn’t safe to stay in Dang, so his
extended family had all relocated to Kathmandu.
His master’s thesis was actually a research report he wrote
for CNAS—Center for Nepal and Asian Studies. At the time, this research center
had just opened, and they wanted basic sociological data on various Nepali
societies. He was hired by CNAS as a researcher; he already had his masters in
History and Culture. So he had done his work on Dangaura Tharu. He was fluent
in Tharu, as he had grown up in the area, so the research topic was a good
fit for him. The report for CNAS was entitled “Land and Social Change in Far
Western Nepal: A Study of the Tharus of Dang Deokhuri.” This was one of the
first reports submitted to CNAS, and later, he forwarded as his master’s thesis
for anthropology, titling it “An Anthropological Study of the Tharus of Dang
Deokhuri.” So he has two masters’ degrees. Later, he went and got his PhD from
a university in India.
I asked him who supervised his research—to whom had he given his reports? He said no one was really supervising him; he just went out and
did it. He said that A.W. MacDonald—the French ethnologist—was in Nepal when he
began his research; long-distance he gave comments and edits to the work after
he returned to France. Lynn Bennet, another foreign anthropologist in Nepal at
the time, helped him put together some questions, but other than that, he did
the work himself.
Rajaure did mention that he taught at the college in Dang
for about five years before he started work at CNAS. At CNAS though, he was
mostly reading and editing and evaluating reports of similar nature to his own,
and giving his time to students who were submitting the reports. He was also
the editor and on the board of the CNAS journal, in which he is still involved.
I asked him what field methods he used for his study of the
Tharus? He said that, at that time, there wasn’t really a talk about “methods.”
He just went and talked to people. People would come smoke in his rooms with
him; he would take notes during conversations, and distribute candy to the
children in the village. While he did make some recordings of interviews and
songs, and given the tapes to CNAS, he has no idea what they did with them, or
even if they still exist. He does remember just making all the data he did
collect accessible—the structure of guruwas,
the relationships between guruwas and
their clients; community rituals and festivals, etc. etc.—in written form.
I took a look at the report; he had a copy. He said he had
put two copies in CNAS, but they were in really bad condition; students had
used them so much. His introductory chapter, and the last three chapters had
all been published in the Himalayan studies journal Kailash, and were the ones I had read. He also wrote a short piece
on the women in Sukhrwar, for a series on the condition of women in Nepal that
CNAS had asked for.
I commented that the older Sukhrwar villagers had told me
Rajaure was the one to recommend Christian McDonaugh to Sukhrwar. Rajaure
seemed surprised, and laughed again—yes, it was true; he had introduced
McDonaugh to the village. I asked him how McDonaugh had decided to do research
on the Tharu. He said that he must have met with A.W. MacDonald, and MacDonald
may have suggested he look at Tharus. When McDonaugh arrived in Kathmandu, he
came to Rajaure and gave him a letter of introduction from MacDonald—that was
how they did it in those days; now, everyone has “gadgets.” Rajaure commented
that his iPhone was an older model. His oldest son in California sends him his
older models.
Rajaure had set McDonaugh up at his family’s house in Dang for
the first few months, and stayed with him; after that, he visited him often to
see how he was getting along. I asked Rajaure if he had McDonaugh’s contact
information. He just had his phone numbers and physical address, no email
address. I commented that it might be less disruptive if I emailed him instead
of called him (though I have been cold-called myself at times in Nepal, and in
the States, so its not completely unusual). He suggested I ask at CNAS; they
should have his contact information. He had pictures of McDonaugh on his phone,
which he showed me. He informed me that these were taken last year, on the
couch adjoining the one we were sitting on, when McDonaugh had come to visit
with his son (the villagers in Sukhrwar also talked about this visit,
commenting that he had brought his son). His son is probably fifteen or sixteen,
and McDonaugh, while all grey hairs, was obviously much younger than I had
expected him to be.
I asked Rajaure what Nepali anthropology looked like, and
how it had changed over the years. He said that at first, when he did his
research, he was not read in theory at all. There were no books on
anthropological theory in Nepal for him to read. So he just did research, and
wrote as descriptively as he could. I commented that you need data before
making theories anyway (anyone who didn’t know I was an ethnomusicologist would
assume I was quoting Sherlock Holmes), and Rajaure commented that the report
had been incredibly helpful to McDonaugh. He had cited it extensively in his
own dissertation.
It was only after doing his PhD in India that Rajure was
introduced to theory. At first, many Nepali masters and PhD student thesis and
dissertations were like that. He said that now, students are more widely read,
and have access to more resources than previously. He had a copy of a recent
student’s dissertation on the coffee table in front of us. She had done work on
an ethnic group I had never heard of in some place in far eastern Nepal, and focused
on ethnic formation. Her extensive bibliography included Barth, Cohen, and several foundational
thinkers like Durkheim and Weber.
I asked Rajaure if Nepali students often chose to look at their own
cultures, or cultures in the areas where they grew up. He said that many did, mainly
because—unlike me, he pointed out—they were unfunded, so could not travel far.
Hence, they would stay with their family or extended family, and do research
around their home. I also asked Rajaure why students wrote their dissertations
in English. He said there was no rule as such; there were several dissertations
written in Nepali as well. Students did what they thought best. He said that
for some anthropological terms, it was easier to write it in English. Many
students also think that, if they write their work in English, then they will
have a better opportunity of getting hired at an NGO or INGO.
As we parted, Rajaure suggested that I visit CNAS, and see
his thesis and McDonaugh’s dissertation. They would also have McDonaugh’s email
contact information. He said to drop his name, and introduce myself to the
director of CNAS, telling him that he (Rajaure) had sent me. I gave Rajaure my
visiting card, and Rajaure took my picture with his iPhone—he commented that it
was sometimes nice to just have a picture of someone.