{"id":12060,"date":"2017-08-03T11:00:32","date_gmt":"2017-08-03T05:30:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak?p=12060"},"modified":"2019-01-16T15:55:44","modified_gmt":"2019-01-16T10:25:44","slug":"get-im-saying-discussing-sexual-reproductive-rights-indian-regional-languages","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/get-im-saying-discussing-sexual-reproductive-rights-indian-regional-languages\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cDo You Get What I\u2019m Saying?\u201d \u2013 Discussing Sexual and Reproductive Rights in Indian Regional Languages"},"content":{"rendered":"

Growing up, the Tamil word \u2018karpazhippu\u2019<\/em> always got me confused and upset. Used to refer to rape, the word literally means \u2018destruction of chastity\u2019. In the \u201990s, the word would liberally feature in many Tamil movies I\u2019d watch, and I\u2019d wonder why the word \u2018karpu\u2019 <\/em>(chastity) even came into the picture when describing the crime (and I wasn\u2019t even \u2018woke\u2019 then, just a hot-headed, angry girl stomping about insisting,\u201cWomen and men are equal!\u201d). Even as I write about the word, I imagine a weeping man swearing to avenge his sister\u2019s karpazhippu<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Through the years, I\u2019ve wondered if there was a more straightforward, less moral word for rape in Tamil. Even though I\u2019ve never formally studied Tamil, my vocabulary isn\u2019t terrible, and yet I couldn\u2019t summon a related word from memory. A slightly shameful internal search later, I realised I didn\u2019t know non-slang Tamil words for sexuality, sex, homosexuality, etc., either.<\/p>\n

I realised my understanding of all of these concepts was built exclusively around English.<\/p>\n

Language is central to how we think about concepts and ideas, and rights-based language matters enormously when we talk about sexuality. However, much of what many of us know about sexuality-related topics is constructed, explained and communicated solely in English. The flexibility of the language \u2013 the ease with which you can add suffixes and prefixes, combine or hyphenate words \u2013 means one can come up with new terms every other day. (Sample \u2018cis-passing\u2019, i.e. the ability of a person to be taken to be cisgender<\/a> at a glance, a concept I learnt about recently!)<\/p>\n

Given the realities of multiple regional languages in India, the non-accessibility to English for millions, and the desperate need to get sexuality-related discussions to these millions, it becomes all the more critical to ensure these discussions take place in regional languages.<\/p>\n

Many organisations work on several aspects of sexuality with communities across India, engaging with and creating resources in different regional languages. They are going through grinding processes to ensure communities access information on sexuality in a language they can understand, but which is, at the same time, rights-based.<\/p>\n

My first insight into this came about when I started working with TARSHI. I learnt about discussions around an appropriate word for abortion in Hindi, colloquially known as \u2018baccha girana\u2019 <\/em>(literally, \u2018dropping the child\u2019), which puts the responsibility for the act on the woman and makes her the \u2018bad\u2019 person, or \u2018brun hatya\u2019<\/em>, which gives the foetus a personhood, making it something (\u2018someone\u2019) that can be \u2018killed\u2019. While \u2018garbhpaat\u2019<\/em> is the neutral Hindi word that explains abortion without moral connotations, it\u2019s often not understood by communities. But for TARSHI, being an organisation that puts rights-based communication at the centre of its work, \u2018garbhpaat\u2019 <\/em>was the winner, and where required, staff would invest the time it takes to explain garbhpaat<\/em> (and why this word and not its colloquial alternatives).<\/p>\n

How do other organisations go about it? I spoke with a few of them about the challenges they face in coming up with rights-based vocabulary on topics related to sexuality and how they overcome them.<\/p>\n

The struggle is real <\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/strong>In Gujarati, translation of rights concepts is very heavy,\u201d say members of Sahaj<\/a>, Gujarat, which works on child rights, adolescent rights and maternal health in the state. \u201cLiteral translation does not work. For example, how do you express \u201csexuality\u201d in Gujarati? \u2018Yonikta’? \u2018Jatiyta’?<\/em> People don\u2019t understand \u2018garbh nirodhak saadhan’ <\/em>(contraceptive devices);<\/em>\u2018saadhan’<\/em> is generally used in the context of transport \u2013 \u2018jaatajaat saadhan’ <\/em>(means of transport). If you say saadhan<\/em>, they reply in terms of bus or truck!\u201d<\/p>\n

Disha Sethi from Nirantar<\/a>, who was part of organising a five-day training on youth, sexuality and rights in Hindi recently, agrees. Speaking about difficulties in developing\/finding reading material for participants, Disha says, \u201cThe biggest challenge is to balance rights-based language with content that is relatable and accessible. Additionally, much of the nuance is lost when translating, be it from English to Hindi, or from Hindi to English. \u2018Pitrusatta\u2019<\/em>, for instance, can never cover the immensity of concepts that \u2018patriarchy\u2019 is able to.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nancy Thomas from Tulir<\/a> – Centre for Prevention and Healing of Child Sexual Abuse talks about the issues in translating seemingly simple concepts from English to Tamil, especially in a way that children understand the meaning in the context and <\/em>in a way that the government\/education boards are comfortable with these going into school textbooks. \u201cTake the English phrase \u2018private parts\u2019, for instance; one can\u2019t translate it into Tamil that children understand without assigning some kind of secrecy or shame to it. We want to avoid using the usual nicknames that are used with children for their body parts, or the colloquial words that are unfortunately used in an abusive way, but it\u2019s hard to explain the phrase in a simple manner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Speaking about trainings in regional languages, Disha also alludes to the different backgrounds that participants come from, which make it even tougher to explain concepts in rights-based language. \u201cNotwithstanding the colloquial words that different communities use, we have to engage with participants on their language, which often comes from a position of privileged caste, class, gender and ableism.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clearly, language doesn\u2019t make it any easier for organisations working on sexuality, which already battle cultural norms, social and political pressure and lack of awareness.<\/p>\n

What\u2019s the way around? <\/strong><\/p>\n

It\u2019s rather difficult, but these organisations have found ways to communicate concepts around sexuality from a rights-based perspective. Nancy from Tulir talks about how they identify words in collaboration with a translator, and then bounce if off with teachers and students the material is targeted at. Parents and teachers are oriented on how to facilitate these conversations (using this language) through lesson plans, posters and activities.<\/p>\n

Nirantar has invested time and resources to develop two modules on gender in Hindi that use simple language which can be contextualised to talk about various aspects of sexuality. For their trainings, Disha talks about how they prefer experiential writing to convey affirmative ideas around sexuality, rather than academic-sounding, jargon-ridden texts. It is \u201cnot easy to get these in Hindi\u201d, Disha admits, but some writers they have included are Pandita Ramabai and Uma Chakravarti, among others.<\/p>\n

Go local <\/strong><\/p>\n

The most common idea, though, was to start off with the words that people use. \u201cPeople understand rights concepts differently \u2013 we have to find language and words that people use, metaphors that they use. Colloquial, rather than literal\u201d say members of the Sahaj team. \u201cLooks like there is need to make our own glossary of terms \u2013 a local dictionary according to the context of the community. The terms used for different topics often vary from village to village, but the youth will be able to relate to them better, so it\u2019s vital that we speak to them in the words they can relate to. For example, \u2018hasth maithun’<\/em> (masturbation) is \u2018haath larry’<\/em> in rural areas of Vadodara.\u201d<\/p>\n

Others share similar sentiments, preferring to use terms that communities understand rather than go into translations that could sound highfalutin.<\/p>\n

Raju, who is a community coordinator with VAMP Institute<\/a>, Maharashtra, says that they have community-based interpreters with whom they work closely to identify words that could be used to explain concepts. VAMP works with sex workers who speak Kannada or Marathi. Raju points out, \u201cWe have to use the words that the community uses… there is no point in changing it because then the message goes on to a different track.\u201d SANGRAM<\/a>, which VAMP Institute works closely with, has developed a feminist sex education manual, christening\u00a0the clitoris ‘kaam sukh kendra<\/em>‘ (repository of sexual pleasure).\u00a0Raju says they use films and charts to explain HIV and Sexually Transmitted Infections (STIs) to sex workers. \u201cOne of our films on HIV is in English, from NACO,\u201d he says, \u201cAnd we frequently pause the film to point to things on the screen and explain in the community members\u2019 language.\u201d<\/p>\n

Swati Sanyal from Swayam<\/a>, who works with communities near Kolkata, says that formal-sounding words could sometimes put people off the concept. \u2018Nari nirjaton\u2019<\/em>, the phrase in Bengali for violence against women is something that many women are familiar with, but hesitate to use in their contexts to identify the violence they may be facing. Sexual relations become \u2018galat kaam’<\/em> (a \u2018wrong act\u2019) and abortion is often \u2018baccha dholai’<\/em> (\u2018washing the child off\u2019 the uterus), but, \u201cWe need to use words that the community understands,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

I think back to the \u2018baccha girana’ <\/em>vs. \u2018garbhpaat\u2019<\/em> debate, and wonder whether organisations grapple with the idea of communicating from a rights-based perspective vs. communicating the message at all. I wonder how they decide between talking about a woman\u2019s right to abortion and ensuring that the implication isn\u2019t that she killed a child (despite what the language suggests) when she decided to abort the foetus. Where, and how, do they draw the line? Tough questions, and even tougher answers.<\/p>\n

As for me, I finally got to know about less moralistic phrases for rape in Tamil. \u2018Balaatkaaram\u2019, <\/em>if one is okay with a borrowed-from-Sanskrit word, and \u2018paaliyal valluravu\u2019<\/em>, or forced sexual intercourse for a \u2018purer\u2019 Tamil word.<\/p>\n

Resources <\/strong><\/p>\n

Here are some resources for rights-based SRHR content used by organisations I spoke to:<\/p>\n