Hannah
About me
Hannah is one of this year’s Ethnomad Ethnographic Explorers, bringing a unique blend of heritage and passion to her work. Born in Ireland, her journey is deeply rooted in her efforts to reconnect with her Irish heritage and her growing interest in tribal communities and traditional livelihoods. This connection has shaped her academic and professional ambitions. Currently studying International Development at University College Cork (UCC) in Ireland, Hannah is preparing for an ethnographic journey to Rajasthan, India, in partnership with "BODH Shiksha Samiti, India". Her work will immerse her in the rich cultural tapestry of the tribal people, exploring their history, heritage, and unique societal structures. She will also focus on the local arts and artisans of Rajasthan and beyond, delving into their way of life, history, and heritage. Hannah's exploration reflects Ethnomad’s mission to document, celebrate, and support cultural diversity. By working with the Rajasthani communities, she aims to uncover and share their stories, highlighting the resilience, traditions, and wisdom that define their ways of life.
Pre-departure
Since securing this incredible internship, I have immersed myself in the vibrant pages and captivating images depicting Rajasthan's diverse cultures. Yet, despite all my preparations, I know these resources only scratch the surface. Rajasthan's rich history, dazzling colours, and dynamic traditions cannot be fully captured from afar. Soon, descriptions of the relentless heat under the Rajasthani summer sun will no longer be abstract concepts—they will become my daily reality when I arrive in Jaipur next week. My academic journey over the past few years, studying various disciplines within International Development, has provided me with a solid theoretical foundation. But theory alone isn't enough. Inspired by anthropologists like Bronislaw Malinowski, whose immersive approach to participant observation has deeply influenced my understanding, I am ready to move beyond textbooks and truly experience what it means to live and learn among the communities I study. During my time in Rajasthan, I aim to listen deeply, learn humbly, and amplify the voices of tradition and heritage in ways that genuinely reflect their stories and struggles. This research trip is more than just academic fieldwork—it's a journey dedicated to documenting the rhythms of everyday life, from tribal artisans and local storytellers to understanding the broader challenges these communities face in preserving their cultural identity. If you've ever wondered what living and working as an ethnographer means, I invite you to follow my journey with Fading Cultures. These stories aren't mine alone—they belong to the remarkable people I'll meet along the way. Join me in uncovering the heart and soul of Rajasthan as together we explore and celebrate these precious, fading cultures.
Jaisalmer
Wandering the golden streets of Jaisalmer, I met Kamal. Sheltering from the searing desert sun amongst the vibrant tapestries of clothes for sale, we sat talking.
Born and raised within these sandstone walls, Kamal reflected on how tourism has reshaped his home. Since the 1980s, floods of tourists have been mesmerised by the fort’s immensity and intricately carved sandstone walls.
Though tourism has fostered prosperity, Kamal has witnessed the toll it has taken on Jaisalmer since he returned to retire within its golden walls. He laments the meandering streets formerly lined with family businesses owned for generations. Now, in their stead are flashy storefronts targeting Jaisalmer's temporary visitors.
Jaisalmer’s cultural and physical foundations are strained under the weight of change. Today, as water supply demands increase with tourism and unprecedented rains erode its walls, Jaisalmer is faced with the question of its future:
Can sustainable tourism be achieved? Can it preserve the heritage and history upon which it depends? How do we honour the past whilst stepping into a future of uncertainty?
Kamal, born and raised in the fortified city of Jaisalmer sitting outside the cities' vibrant storefronts watching passers-by
Kraska, Sariska Tiger Reserve
In the village of Kraska, in the Sariska Tiger Reserve, goats are fed salt to promote hydration and the nutritional value of their milk
Across the heat and forest of the Sariska Tiger Reserve, I travelled to Kraska, a Gurjar village perched upon a rocky mountain plateau. We reached a forest clearing, revealing a small lake by the village, where buffalo submerged themselves in its water depths, seeking relief from the unrelenting sun. As the villagers gathered to greet us, a herd of goats followed in tow, highlighting the symbiotic relationship between the village and their animals.
The longer I stayed, the more I understood how central the goats and buffalo are to the rhythm of life in Kraska and the livelihoods of the Gurjar community. After being invited to one family’s home, I watched as they fed their goats salt, ensuring each one had access as the goats dived in head first. The salt, I discovered, provides crucial electrolytes that enhance the milk’s nutritional value and hydrate the goats in the arid terrain.
The Gurjars typically grazed their herds in and around the community and their village. However, with strict grazing and crop cultivation restrictions imposed by reserve authorities, pastoralists were forced to adapt. In summer’s torrid heat, the village men, with their buffalo in tow, venture down the steep, rugged mountain trails to the grazing pastures of the villages below, seeking fodder too costly to haul back to their remote village.
The Gurjars are forced to walk a delicate line, balancing environmental restrictions and their livelihoods, yet their sense of community is unyielding.
The Heritage of Bagru and Sanganer Hand Block Printing
Above: Hand carved printing blocks of floral motifs in a hand block printing factory in Bagru
Below: A bhatt-ghar (block-carver) carving a floral pattern into a wooden printing block
The intricate art of hand block printing is one of Jaipur’s most cherished traditions. Traced back through generations, Jaipur’s vibrant textile heritage is rooted in the villages of Bagru and Sanganer. Though close in proximity, two distinct block printing styles emerged from the two villages. Water acted as a key differentiator between the two printing styles. Sanganer’s former abundant water sources were the perfect environment for dyeing, printing and washing. Bagru’s access to water was comparatively less, engendering the practice of mud paste resist printing (dhabu) and indigo work. However, the Sanjaria river running through Bagru was perfect for the washing and processing textiles, paired with long stretches of sandy banks for drying.
Sanganer prints are renowned for their delicate curves and intricate floral details, often set against a white/off-white background. Bagru prints differentiate themselves with bold geometric patterns and their statement harmony of black and red dyes. The designs of Bagru can be classified into five motif variations: flowers, leaves and buds; intertwined tendrils; trellis designs; figurative designs including animals; and geometric patterns influenced by the synthesis of indigenous Rajasthani designs and Mughal motifs.
The intricate designs of both Bagru and Sanganer first come to life on the wooden blocks carefully carved by a bhatt-ghar (block-maker/ carpenter). The design is first drawn on paper and stretched out onto the smooth wooden block surface. Using a needle and the careful eye of precision, the design’s impression is transferred to the block’s surface. Designs and patterns most frequently involve three to four blocks, each with different areas carved out to add to layers and colours to the design. The Rekh (outline block) is usually made of Indian Teak wood as typically this block is the fastest to wear down. The Gudh and Dutta blocks provide the background and colour filling component of the design and are typically carved from lighter and softer woods like Roahda and Gurjan.
Kath Kuni, Himalayan Architecture
I travelled to the Kullu Valley, nestled among the blue-silhouetted peaks of the Himalayas in Himachal Pradesh, to learn more about the indigenous wool crafts of the region. The cool summer breeze guided me along winding slopes, from the quiet forest paths to bustling mountain villages. Speckled across the mountains rising from the valley were various types of buildings, each interacting with the landscape in its own way: the flat-roofed cement structures stood in stark contrast to the natural beauty around them; recently constructed three- or four- story buildings attempted to echo the native architectural style preserved in the valley for centuries, yet still served as markers of modernity; and then there were the stone and wood structures, appearing in harmony with the forest and the slopes, capturing the history of both mountains and the community.
Kath Kuni is a vernacular architectural style native to the Middle Himalayan Belt. For centuries, homes in the Kullu Valley were constructed using local deodar wood (Himalayan cedar) and stone. These structures stood as testaments to generations of knowledge about the mountains the local communities called home. In a region prone to seismic activity, Kath Kuni buildings were constructed to be resilient and flexible during earthquakes. Unlike conventional construction, which relies on vertical columns, Kath Kuni houses use horizontal interlocking wooden beams, promoting structural flexibility. Between the beams, stones are tightly packed, weighing down the structure and reinforcing its stability.The steeply sloped slate tile roofs were designed to handle the region’s heavy snowfall and intense rainfall, with extended eaves that shielded the walls from harsh weather. Thick double walls helped retain heat, essential for surviving the harsh Himalayan winters. Every element of construction reflected both environmental responsiveness and practical functionality, addressing the community’s needs. The ground floor served as a livestock shed, whose heat rose and warmed the upper levels where grains were stored on the first floor and the family lived on the second.However, with rapid urbanisation sweeping through the valley, the construction of new Kath Kuni buildings was largely abandoned in favour of cheaper cement-based methods. These new structures, though less costly, were a stark juxtaposition to the landscape and do not retain as much heat, increasing the need for costly electric heating systems. Innovative architectural firms like The North in Naggar are dedicated to the adaptation of vernacular and indigenous building techniques to contemporary conditions. The North often reuse materials from older and deserted Kath Kuni structures and employs local craftspeople, preserving generational knowledge through the building process. Kath Kuni is experiencing a revival with many families and businesses returning to the architectural heritage of the valley. The recycling of centuries of wood, stone and knowledge systems within the revival of Kath Kuni suggests that the sustainable and community-rooted practices of this architecture will not become a relic of the past, but a living part of the valley’s future.
Native to the Himalayas, Kath Kuni architecture incorporates local resources and community knowledge providing beautiful and functional homes responsive to the needs of families and the environment
My journey so far...
Pre-Departure
