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We were riding into the village on a tractor when the 23-year-old daughter of our landlord came out into the harsh sun to welcome us after a long absence. From a distance she placed her hand on her chest and bowed slightly. How many times do we welcome friends with such intensity in the West? The sight of this woman standing there alone, saluting us silently with such respect and grace, was so moving. I was speechless, a clumsy foreigner with my baggy clothes and my Leica around my neck, which I entirely forgot to use. Nowhere else in the region is there such beauty and grace as among these magnificent, naturally feminine women. In the West, women put on makeup, Gucci pants, and high heels to look feminine. Rana Tharu women don’t need that. |
We went in September to the tarai region at the end of the monsoon season because I wanted to photograph the area when everything was green and lush. Unfortunately, the rain lasted much longer. My assistant and I were riding in a public bus along the road that takes us to the Rana Tharus when we got stuck in a section that was flooded by a nearby river. Water was everywhere. It filled up the bus as high as the seat backs. Despite the strong current, we managed to swim out and to protect the equipment.
We ended up hiring a tractor to carry our equipment, but it got stuck in the mud, and it took us two days to pull it out. What should have been a three-day trip took us one week.
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There are no radios or televisions in the Rana Tharu village where I stayed because there is no electricity. So on full-moon nights the people gather around to enjoy an evening of ragni, a kind of slapstick comedy performed by farmers-turned-actors. Men dress up in makeshift costumes and pretend that they are going through a courtship in the forest or encountering wild animals. Sometimes the humor is very crude, but the audience loves it.
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