Free Market NGOs in Bangladesh

There’s an article in the January/February issue of The Atlantic about Bangladesh. Authored by Robert D. Kaplan, it’s called “Waterworld,” and it starts out with a long, perhaps sensationalist account of what Bangladesh might have to look forward to because of global warming — a scenario which wasn’t very surprising to me at least. (This much we knew from Al Gore.) There is also a bit about the growth of Islamic extremism — and that too wasn’t at all surprising for those of us who have followed Bangladesh even off-and-on.

What was interesting, however, was Kaplan’s account of the role NGOs play in making an otherwise dysfunctional country work. To begin with, Kaplan argues, central government has always been rather weak in Bangladesh because of the geography and climate:

Yet Bangladesh is less interesting as a hydrologic horror show than as a model of how humankind copes with an extreme natural environment. Weather and geography have historically worked here to cut one village off from another. Central government arrived only with the Turkic Moguls in the 16th century, but neither they nor their British successors truly penetrated the countryside. The major roads were all built after independence in 1971. This is a society that never waited for a higher authority to provide it with anything. The isolation effected by floodwaters and monsoon rains has encouraged institutions to develop at the local level. As a result, the political culture of rural Bangladesh is more communal than hierarchical, and women play a significant role.

Four hours’ drive northwest of Dhaka, the capital, I found a village in a Muslim-Hindu area where the women had organized themselves into separate committees to produce baskets and textiles and invest the profits in new wells and latrines. They had it all figured out, showing me on a crude cardboard map where the new facilities would be installed. They received help from a local nongovernmental organization that, in turn, had a relationship with CARE. But the organizational heft was homegrown. (link)

Continue reading

Do India’s Stock Market Investors Lack Sophistication?

Via Manish’s News Tab at Ultrabrown, a blog post by John Elliott (“Riding the Elephant”) at Fortune. Is it just me, or is there a certain contradiction in the following paragraphs?

India has unsophisticated investors. I’m talking about stock market investors of course following the stock market crash, with Mumbai’s key Sensex index plummeting 19% from an all time and over-priced high of above 21,000 on January 8 to under 17,000 by Tuesday. Such a remark, judging from past Riding the Elephant experience, will generate a furious tirade of comments, especially from readers based in the United States who are always anxious to protect India’s reputation.

But how else can you explain a market which swings from such extremes. Last week it mobilized bids totaling an astronomic $180 billion for the $2.9 billion initial public offering launched by Anil Ambani’s Reliance Power (which has yet to produce a revenue stream). On Monday and Tuesday, it crashed, seemingly ignoring the country’s strong economic fundamentals. As Palaniappan Chidambaram, India’s finance minister, pointed out when he tried to calm nerves during the slide, the fundamentals are strong. The economy, he pointed out, is growing at around 9%, and the prime minister’s economic advisory council is forecasting 8.5% for 2008-09.

It’s not just Indian retail investors, but foreign funds (many of them based in the United States) that have been rushing herd-like into Mumbai in recent months – and then rushed out on in the past days. This afternoon I spoke to a leading Mumbai banker who has close links with the United States. “If anyone thought that having strong foreign institutional involvement in the Indian market would bring stability, it is clear that that assumption was misplaced,” he said (anonymously because of his links). He complained about a “lack of conviction and analysis” by foreign funds which “on Tuesday told me they were ‘getting the hell out of India’ and today are saying ‘buy.’” (link)

Who is John Elliott referring to when he talks about “India’s Investors”? His title and first sentence suggest he means local Indian investors. But the main focus of his post, starting in the third paragraph, is actually on foreign investors, who have added to the instability of the Indian markets with panic selling. Read the rest of his post — who do you think he is really talking about? Continue reading

Indian Men Dig Mills & Boon Too

Via the Literary Saloon, an article in the Economic Times on the upcoming formal distribution of Harlequin Mills & Boon romance novels in India. These novels have of course been available in South Asia for many years — but mostly via redistribution and consignment. It’s only now that Harlequin is planning to start distributing its books in India directly:

For most Indian readers, it will come as a surprise that M&B was never actually distributed in India. The novels have been so much a part of our lives, stacked in the hundreds in circulating libraries, borrowed dozens at a time by women (especially in hostels, where the trick was for one girl to borrow them and ten to read them the same night), laid out for sale second hand on pavements.

We’ve seen the special sections in large bookshops, shelves aching with romantic desperation, anguish and fulfillment. We’ve fantasised about the busty heroines and tall dark handsome heroes on the covers. We knew about all the different varieties of novels: nurses, Regency, exotic settings and so on. And exactly how we knew all this we would never say since like most people we would never admit to reading M&B.

But all of this was achieved with Harlequin ever selling directly. “We had some idea about this market, but we never really followed it up,” admits Go. “At the Frankfurt Book Fair, we would meet Indian distributors who would offer to take on consignments and we never bothered beyond that.” (link)

Interestingly, Harlequin is finding that Indian men are just about as likely to be Mills and Boon fans as women:

What he wasn’t expecting were the men, “A substantial percentage of Mills & Boon readership in India is male! You don’t see that in other markets.” Go has speculations on why this is the case. Perhaps it’s just the sheer ubiquity of M&B novels, “Their sisters and mothers are reading them and since they are lying around the men read them too.” (link)

(Come on, desi guys — I know you’ve read a few of these. MoorNam? Floridian? Now is the time to come clean.)

Finally, the author of the piece asks an obvious question on my mind from the start — what about the desi version:

But the interesting question is whether, as with FMCG products, M&B will see the need to Indianise their offering. When even a Kentucky Fried Chicken has to offer a chicken curry thali to survive in India, will M&B be able to continue with its offering of Western-oriented romance fiction? Or is this sort of escapist fiction exactly its appeal? (link)

(“Tall, dark, and handsome” might have to become “fair and handsome” in the Indian context. And maybe they could still use Fabio on the cover, only with Shah Rukh Khan’s hair style?)

Incidentally, I have long wanted to write my own pulpy romance novel to make some quick cash, but I’ve been starved for a good (desi-oriented) plot. Can anyone suggest a good scenario for me to use, as I attempt to enter the world of trash fiction popular romantic fare? (The best I can think of right now is an Indian version of this plot. Hopefully I can come up with a better title than “The Rancher’s Doorstep Baby,” however) Continue reading

A Public (Government) School in Bihar

From a recent New York Times article on India’s public education system, is a public school in Lahtora, which I believe is in the state of Bihar:

nyt-decrepit-indian-governm.jpg

Ouch. (Click on the photo to see the original, larger version at the Times.)

Interestingly, the article (again by Somini Sengupta), shows that the problems in the system aren’t necessarily simply created by a lack of funds. Quite a bit of money is being spent by the central and state governments to improve government schools — this particular village had been allotted $15,000 to build a new school. The problem is that the funds often remain unspent, sometimes because of the famously thick and impenetrable Indian government bureaucracy, and sometimes simply because of corruption and nepotism at the local level.

Sengupta does sound some positive notes along the way. The sheer scale of the effort to improve the schools is mind-boggling:

India has lately begun investing in education. Public spending on schools has steadily increased over the last few years, and the government now proposes to triple its financial commitment over the next five years. At present, education spending is about 4 percent of the gross domestic product. Every village with more than 1,000 residents has a primary school. There is money for free lunch every day.

Even in a state like Bihar, which had an estimated population of 83 million in 2001 and where schools are in particularly bad shape, the scale of the effort is staggering. In the last year or so, 100,000 new teachers have been hired. Unemployed villagers are paid to recruit children who have never been to school. A village education committee has been created, in theory to keep the school and its principal accountable to the community. And buckets of money have been thrown at education, to buy swings and benches, to paint classrooms, even to put up fences around the campus to keep children from running away. (link)

It doesn’t always help. The free lunch program in this village, for instance, doesn’t work because the principal says the rice he’s been sent (lying in stacks in the classroom) isn’t “officially reflected in his books.” But the recently released Pratham study finds that free lunch is working in 90% of schools, which is pretty good — again if you consider the scale of the project.

Incidentally, some Indian newspapers have also covered the findings of this year’s Pratham survey, in somewhat rosier terms — and, needless to say, no reporters or photographers going out to see actual village schools. The Economic Times, for instance, is impressed that teacher attendance has improved from 38% in 2005, to 53% in 2007. Improvement is great, but it’s still hard to imagine children learning very much when their teachers only show up every other day!

Finally, the full 2007 Pratham Survey is here (PDF); I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. Overall, Pratham looks like an important NGO; I’m considering donating something to them to support their efforts. Continue reading

Falu on FOX

I reviewed Falu’s recent CD back in August. Now, she and her band have been featured in a Fox show called Fearless Music, which generally airs late at night on Saturdays (this may vary, depending on where you live). This is the song “Rabba,” from the show:

(I like the Hindi + rock sound… Though I wonder how it will play, as it were, in Peoria?)

Incidentally, Falu will be teaming up with DJ Rekha for a new, hybrid live music + DJ dance party at Canal Room, on January 31. The event is called “Bangles and Backbeats.” Continue reading

Desi Food, in Theory

Through a post on the News Tab (thanks Bobby32), I came across an interesting “local food tourism” piece in the New York Times, featuring Krishnendu Ray, a Professor of Food Studies at NYU (can anyone think of a better discipline to be in? I can’t).

Professor Ray is the author of an intriguing-looking book called The Migrant’s Table: Meals and Memories in Bengali-American Households.

The Times has the cerebral Prof. Ray go on a tour of a series of very different Desi restaurants around New York City, beginning with high-end fusion food in Manhattan (Angon), passing through Jackson Diner (a cross-over favorite), stopping by the Ganesh Temple Canteen in Flushing (intriguing choice), and ending at a working class place in Brooklyn called Pakiza.

Ray’s comments are really intriguing. First there is a general, theoretical comment about the function of the Desi restaurant as a space of cross-cultural interaction in American cities:

“The immigrant body is a displaced body — it reveals its habits much more than a body at home, because you can see the social friction,” Mr. Ray said. “The ethnic restaurant is one of the few places where the native and the immigrant interact substantively in our society.”

Interesting — and possibly true. (Thoughts?) I think what Ray is getting at here is the fact that how we eat is both more intimate and harder to conceal than other aspects of cultural difference. In many other spheres, adaptation and mimicry can be pretty straightforward: you buy a certain kind of suit and shoes, and fit in at a workplace or school, more or less. But eating is closer to home, and the Indian restaurant in particular is a space where “old habits” (like, say, eating with one’s hands) can come out safely. But, as Ray also points out, the rules are somewhat different when the Indian restaurant in question has a mix of Desi and non-Desi patrons.

On $6 for a tiny, pyramid-shaped mound of Bhel Puri at Devi, Ray says:

“We like this very clever insider joke,” Mr. Ray continued. “We are taking something cheap and from the street, and reducing the quantity, turning it into a pyramid, putting it on a big plate, and all these white guys are paying 20 bucks for it.” (link)

Heh. His bewilderment at the idea of veal at a restaurant named “Devi,” as well as at the ingenious preposterousness of “Masala Schnitzel” is also worth a look. I also agree with him about the greatness of Saravanaas, on Lexington Avenue, and on a few other things as well. Continue reading

The Elephant in the Road? (What Elephant?)

I would think we’re all more than adeqately familiar with the long list of clichés about roads in India — they’re chaotic, people honk a lot, there’s no clear lane structure, there are all these ultracheap, Ipod-sized cars… and yeah, there’s the occasional animal. Just in case you’ve forgotten some of them, here are the clichés again for you:

Amid a cacophony of horns, a blood-red sport utility vehicle weaved between cars, passing Mr. Sharma within a razor’s edge on the right. A school bus snuggled close up on his left. No one seemed to care about traffic lanes. Cars bounced in and out of crater-size potholes.

[…] Sharing the road with him were a bicyclist with three cooking-gas cylinders strapped to the back of his bike, a pushcart vendor plying guavas, a cycle rickshaw loaded with a photocopy machine (rickshaws often being the preferred mode of delivery for modern appliances).

There were also a great many pedestrians, either leaping into traffic in the absence of crosswalks or marching in thick rows on the sides of the road in the absence of sidewalks. At one point, a car careered down the wrong side of the road. Then a three-wheeled scooter-rickshaw came straight at Mr. Sharma, only to duck swiftly down a side street. At least this morning there was no elephant chewing bamboo in the fast lane, as there sometimes is. (link)

I have no problem if a reporter goes to Delhi, notices that the traffic is intense, and writes about it; some clichés, admittedly, are based in truth. (The article, incidentally, is by Somini Sengupta, with contributions from Hari Kumar and Seher Mahmood.) What I do have a problem are silly non-observations, like “At least there was no elephant chewing bamboo in the fast lane, as there sometimes is.” In fact, you didn’t see any elephants, did you? Why report on what you didn’t see?

Though I must admit I am no expert either, I have never seen an elephant on the road in central Delhi… Cows and goats, yes. But an elephant, no — it seems like an exceptional rather than an ordinary occurrence.

I think someone is pulling Somini’s leg. Continue reading

Roshan Bhai Will Fix All Your Problems…

But first, you have to send him all your cash:

He promised them “light in their lives.”

He laughed with them, danced with them and, most importantly, he prayed for them.

Mohammad Roshan Zameer was the name he gave. Though, with their pockets empty, his alleged victims now wonder if even that was real.

And they may never know.

Because after several members of Peel Region’s Hindu community forked over hundreds of thousands of dollars to the alleged Swami Swindler, he upped and left, leaving nary a coin — or prayer — behind.

On the 540 AM Punjabi Lehran radio show he first spoke on in July, the man became known as Roshan bhai — “Brother Roshan” in Hindi. Roshan means “illumination” or “light.” (link)

It’s an age-old tradition — the God-touting charlatan. I’m always shocked that anyone still falls for it, but I guess there’s a sucker born every minute. In this case, it’s somewhat impressive that “Roshan Bhai” was able to convince members of Toronto’s Hindu community (at least, according to the Toronto Sun) to give money to someone who seemed to be identifying himself as a Muslim holy man. (This point is a bit unclear.)

The Toronto Sun story in particular has one sad-but-funny detail: one of the victims of Roshan Bhai, Paramjit Bhullar, went so far as to actually use a spycam to tape conversations with the charlatan. Despite his suspicions, he still ended up losing $60,000 to Mr. Roshan Bhai.

Are there any Toronto readers who might have heard more about this story? Continue reading

Mira Nair’s “The Perez Family” (1995)

I enjoyed looking at some of the influences behind The Namesake last week, and I’ve started to look at some of Mira Nair’s older films — including one that I hadn’t seen before, The Perez Family.

The Perez Family is a film adaptation of a novel by the same name by Christine Bell. It’s the story of a family separated at the time of the Cuban revolution, which has the potential to be reunited because of the Mariel boatlift of 1980. The boatlift brought more than 100,000 Cuban refugees to the United States, with full approval of both Castro and the U.S. government.

My detailed (possibly too detailed?) take on the film is below the fold, but at this point one obvious issue for discussion does come up, which is whether there are points for comparison between Cuban refugees and Indian immigrants from the 1960s and 70s. Cuban Americans are famous for skewing somewhat to the Right; many of the earlier wave were wealthy landowners in Cuba, who had the most to lose in Castro’s Cuba. But perhaps many earlier Indian immigrants are themselves somewhat more conservative than one might expect, perhaps because of the “artifact” of U.S. immigration law up through 1980 — which made it relatively easy for doctors and engineers to come in. Continue reading

Obama as a ‘Brown’ Candidate: Name Discrimination

I had a moment of Obama-identification when I saw the following anecdote from the Iowa caucuses in the New York Times last night:

The Boyd household, perhaps, is atypical. She supported Mr. Obama, while her husband, Rex, walked into the caucus as a Clinton supporter. Before the final headcount was conducted, she said, he changed his mind and moved over to the Obama corner of the room.

In an overnight e-mail, she offered an explanation. “Rex went to Clinton and I wore a Obama sticker. As people milled and talked, he changed before the count as he heard people stating they could not vote for someone with a last name like Obama. One said, ‘He needs to stay in Chicago and take care of his family.’

“Rex came over to Obama, where he heard not one negative bit of talk. He felt they both stand for pretty much the same ideas, but our leader needs to be positive and Obama puts that feeling out there. That is important in this world.” (link)

There goes that ‘funny’ name again. Obama has joked about it at times in his stump speeches, but here it seems like it might really be a liability for him after all. For someone to say “I couldn’t vote for someone named Obama” is to my eye code: it’s a way of saying “I couldn’t vote for someone foreign.”

The problem of the funny name, and the association it carries with foreignness, as we’ve discussed many MANY times here at Sepia Mutiny, is a characteristic most South Asians share with Mr. Barack Obama. (He has a nickname, by the way — “Barry” — though he has admirably chosen not to campaign on it… yet).

This anecdote is a little reminder that this campaign is still, in some sense, a referendum on race and, more broadly, “difference.” Clearly, some voters (even supposedly less race-minded Democrats) really aren’t ready for a black candidate, or a “different” candidate — but as, in the anecdote above, there are also voters who are drawn to Obama for precisely the reason that others are prejudiced against him.

Obama’s difference obviously isn’t exactly the same as that which many of us contend with, of course: he’s Christian, and many of us are not (though it’s worth pointing out again that he doesn’t have a Christian name). He’s also visually and culturally identifiable to most Americans as “black,” while Desis often have the problem of looking merely foreign and unplaceable (In his second gubernatorial campaign in Louisiana, Bobby Jindal, as we’ve discussed, found a formula to get around this, but since it entailed positioning himself in some cases against the interests of African Americans, I don’t think it’s a formula I would encourage others to emulate.) Continue reading