Doing interviews, coproducing groundwater: tracing the spatial, temporal and vertical (Part 2)

I have organised this article in three parts based on the three key areas of coproduction. Part 1 reflects upon words- words used everyday to describe the topography, the geology, the processes, and practices. Part two focuses on space- space that is not just horizontal but also vertical as we speak about groundwater. This verticality of space urges us to focus on another dimension, a dimension of depth, of thickness, of volume. The third part, that is closely associated and embedded (in some places) with space is that of time. Time is often looked upon as an axis for the past, present and the future, but the verticality of space urges us to look at it within the ground, processes that run across time and within time, occurring simultaneously. 

Sorry, can you say that again

In this first part, I want to draw the attention towards words- words describing groundwater, its understanding, processes, and practices. When I began the interviews, I came across many words which described the landscape and certain characteristics of these landscapes. ‘Raan’ is most used in Osmanabad to describe a land parcel, a farm. I have only encountered Raan in other geographies where it often refers to untended land, forest, etc. For eg. ‘Raan majlay’ was quite common phrase referring to vegetation that grown on land or farms that are not tended or looked after. However, in this field area, raan was used for everything about the landscape- in some places, farm, in some the landscape itself. What was interesting was it was also used to describe the verticality or depth of the landscape with changing rock types or geology while drilling a borewell- ‘raan badalalay’ (raan has changed)

The GSDA and CGWB descriptions of Osmanabad geology commonly use a phrase- ‘moderately dissected plateau’ which can be loosely translated into a description of an undulating topography. This seems to be a peculiar feature of the Deccan Basalt plateau which encompasses more than 80 percent of Maharashtra’s landmass. The GSDA reference manual says that ‘occurrence, storage and movement of groundwater is greatly controlled by morphological set up in Hard Rock terrain.’ Thus, attention to topographical features and its role in shaping water availability (and non), flows, storage and discharge is important. But how is such a moderately dissected plateau brought into everyday discussion. I was first introduced to it through words- words that caught my attention (for I have never heard them before or ignored them for common sense). Many farmers referred to ‘umata’ an upland feature in the watershed, while describing success of sources, duration of water availability in an area. ‘Umata’ were also those farmland parcels wherein water had to be transported through an intricate series of arrangements involving pumps, valves, and pipes. 

The seemingly flat landscape may mislead someone from recognising the relevance of ‘umata’ and ‘jhol’

Other words like lavan (describing the small streams in the area), chaval (a farmland that has peculiar character for water retention- due to its location in the valley area- which again has another word called jhola– opposite of Umata), vapsa (a condition of farm/land when it becomes-or is made suitable for sowing). These words are often associated with a physical/topographical feature, a phenomenon that occurs in the local landscape and thus forms the foundation of knowledge that shapes everyday practices.   

Encountering the water conservation structures in these interviews often meant their association through a particular programme rather than a focus on its properties (like earthen bund or cement bund, weir, bund etc.). For example, I encountered the most common intervention in watershed or water conservation called Cement Nalla Bund (a CNB) through different names and references- in one instance it was a KT Weir (Kolhapur Type Weir), in another it was a Vasant Bandhara (due to its associated with the Vasundhara watershed programme?), while someone pointed out it was a ‘naala bandh’. In such cases, an interview conducted in the farm revealed interesting insights than the same conducted in other settings (room, office etc.). 

Of patta, pokali and percolation

Space forms another dimension in my analysis of these interviews. How space is described and mobilised to draw attention to the processes and practices of groundwater has immense value to pursue such a coproduction of groundwater knowledge. 

While describing Deccan Basalts, the word ‘flows’ (or layer, in some places) is often used to identify rock strata that may be conducive or non-conducive for groundwater accumulation and movement (see this for example). I encountered these flows through ‘patta’ (literally belt) described by farmers as extensive subsurface belt of certain rock type that enables identification and movement of groundwater. It is interesting to note that I encountered ‘patta’ only in descriptions of shallow (or unconfined) aquifers or subsurface. Never I came across the word ‘patta’ to describe a spatial extent in context of deeper subsurface or confined aquifers. While assumptions about such patta did need observations of multiple open dugwells, the relative confidence while making these claims was much higher than the often ‘fate driven’ search for water in deeper spaces of the earth through drilling of borewells. 

Laal Patta (Red Belt/Layer) visible in a dugwell

In other instance, such a loose rock stratum, a stratum that is so porous that is makes it ‘mau’ (soft) in description was also referred as a ‘pokali’ (a vacuum). That groundwater is not available until the beginning of this strata of pokali. While this is not a literal vacuum but is occupied by extremely conducive rock types like the red layer or highly weathered vesicular basalt (mau manjarya), it was useful for bringing our attention to those shifts in imagination accompanied by possibility of groundwater in those spaces. I believe, these patta and pokali describe aquifers in the area that has shaped a collective experience of knowing, locating, and accessing groundwater. 

While discussing borewells, the talk often narrowed down, it moved towards experiences of the sources themselves and no major claims about the subsurface were discussed as seen in case of shallow aquifers. However, a typology of confined aquifers, deeper subsurface groundwater did emerge through those interviews. Through their experiences of drilling borewells and those of others in the village, a classification was brought into notice. It consisted of a Doh system (can be translated, in hydrogeological sense, into a perched aquifer type system) where the borewells did struck water but did not sustain over two or three seasons eventually becoming intermittent. ‘Doh’ means a small pond like water body- usually referred in case of surface water bodies. In other cases, thanks to ones nashib (fate), the borewell struck the jhara or a nasthat ensured a perennial and long-lasting source as compared to a doh. It is interesting to note the shift in describing groundwater in shallow and deeper systems. In shallow, reference to patta meant geological feature (lal gerucha patta) while an extension in deeper systems transformed into the water flow itself (‘panyacha’ jhara or ‘panyachi’ nas) rather than emphasizing the geological feature. This understanding about sources and through them about the subsurface has led to series of practices around borewells like transferring water from them to dugwells, reboring failed borewells, deepening the bore further to improve storage etc. 

Ballestero suggests that thinking about groundwater, thinking about these rock formations ‘require a form of volumetric thinking that is only possible by articulating horizontality and verticality’ (2019). It is here that I bring attention to this verticality of imagination, observation, and practices. In these interviews, verticality was brought into reference through two key points- water levels and depth of sources. While water levels fluctuated, depth was often static- a given character in the drama of groundwater. Though water levels are the most valued ‘data input’ to arrive at groundwater understanding, it was one of the most diversely understood parameter. Asking about ‘paani patali’ meant a variety of things and its context. For example, it was often associated with drought or water scarcity years. It was not seen as something that has progressed over the years (like water level has depleted) but rather something that fluctuates every year. 

The temporality of groundwater

Continuous use of groundwater leads to falling water levels over the years. An observer of data for many decades may easily reach to this conclusion. However, in the process, we miss the intergenerational aspects of such change. What was true for many older people in the village was a fiction for the younger farmers today. That streams in the village flowed even during the summers (little, but did flow), that dug wells needed to be only 25-30 feet deep can only be a fragment of old age imagination. This transformation of rural landscapes over decades has led to a transformation in ways of knowing groundwater, accessing, and using it. 

A newspaper article describing increase in post monsoon water level in the district

In short term-like within few years, this temporality, unlike a linear progression, shifts back and forth across the axis. Water levels, discussed above, are often changing- depleting and recovering, a phenomenon that was associated with series of related events- extraction for irrigation, transfers from deeper aquifers, droughts, rainfall (excess, unseasonal etc.). 

Many farmers complained about sources of groundwater drying up by March marking the beginning of a summer with scarce water supply, intermittent borewells, poorer recovery in dug wells etc. ‘Percolation’ while being a spatial process- movement of water from one point to other, also has a temporal component that is well understood by the users. Instead of taking permits for lift irrigation from tanks, farmers prefer to buy lands near tanks wherein restrictions on extraction during summers are not applied. In comparison, tanks, when they reach dead storage are banned from use for irrigation with confiscation of lifting devices, cutting off electricity supply etc. However, officials cannot restrict the process of percolation which causes water from the tank to percolate in the wells nearby. Thus, temporality of groundwater movement is well understood and mobilised by farmer community. 

Many of us often come across phrases/sentences like ‘our village our water’, ‘not letting any water outside our village’ etc. Farmers, though, in some parts of the watershed must pump out water from wells during the monsoons- a purposeful activity aimed at reducing soil moisture and thus water retention in farms, to ensure crop productivities. When asked if this counters the need for recharging more and more groundwater during and after monsoon on which many government programmes are focused, they suggested the inequities of land properties mandated some to undertake such an activity. The farmers in ‘chaval jameen’ (land prone to water retention) resorted to such an activity. It was a contradiction of sorts that a MGNREGA supported in-situ dugwell recharge programmes aims to do exactly the opposite. This seemingly rebellious act is not seen as one damaging the larger objective of improving groundwater situation in the village by letting off water ‘outside of the watershed or the aquifer’. 


Movement of groundwater is another aspect that I will write sometime soon. The reason is simple- the topic demands its own attention and much of the interventions or strategies for groundwater conservation, recharge and improving access have been shaped around theories and experiences of groundwater movement. Starting with the most basic as to why pumping one well (or not pumping) affects other wells in the vicinity, why most wells are near streams, why naala deepening benefits certain wells and not others, why are horizontal boreholes drilled in the dugwells, why drilling of one borewell leads to failure of other or why increasing borewells in a landscape lead to loss of water from dugwells. There are a lot of tensions, inconsistencies and substantiating examples emerging from pursuing these questions in the interviews, and I hope to write about it in the next blog. 

Doing interviews, coproducing groundwater: tracing the spatial, temporal and vertical (Part 1)

When interview research method meets groundwater

Interviewing is cornerstone of any qualitative research. There are many different approaches to organising and conducting these and I would not go into the details about their typologies as that is not the intention of this article. My key interest here is- what happens when the interview as a research method meets hydrogeology? What happens when interviews themselves and through them enable groundwater understanding? I trace these questions and put down my observations based on my experiences of using un/semi structured interviews during my PhD fieldwork. 

Before I dive in further into the article, I need to highlight that I am no expert when it comes to qualitative research or for that matter using/deploying research tools. Much of what is presented here is through my use of interviews ‘in the field’ and ‘through the process’ of evolving the approach. When I began the fieldwork, much of the discussions were unstructured that evolved into semi-structured method of interviews. However, the linearity as the earlier sentence suggests may not be visible in the process. 

I interviewed farmers, community members, Krushi mitra (agriculture extension officers), Jalsurakshak (water extension officer) and elected members of various village level committees. While I also interviewed scientists, government officials, and practitioners from NGOs as well as subject experts, much of the focus of this article and the emerging understanding is based on my interactions in the villages. I did much of this fieldwork in Osmanabad district of Maharashtra, although I also ventured in other districts a bit like Jalna and Ahmednagar. 

Doing interviews, coproducing groundwater

The reason I describe this as coproduction of groundwater is for two key reasons: as a researcher, I position myself with a background of working in this sector which brings in my own understanding to the field as well as to the process. In turn, this has led to shaping the approach I took for these interviews, the way questions were shaped and organised in the interviews and while conducting the interviews how the responses led to emerging questions which were again shaped by my understanding of the subject and field. Thus, at the outset, I want to shed the image of an ‘objective researcher’ towards the one of an ‘active researchers’ who equally contributed to the coproduction of this understanding presented here. 

Secondly, participant farmers and members of the community engaged with me through a certain notion of my background and identity- a urban, upper caste, researcher doing some research in a faraway university and someone, who possibly, may contribute to some beneficial work in the community/village. Having introduced through an NGO, this further escalated expectations that I did best to address but not quell. Recognising this mutual relationship was important in collectivising understanding of groundwater that led to its coproduction. 

The key contribution I wish to make through this article is to establish an approach that can inform ways of understanding groundwater beyond the ‘techniques of hydrogeology’- to develop understanding of groundwater through qualitative research methods that relies on oral histories, memories (individual and collective), everyday practices, experiential and traditional knowledge. Doing so, I hope it will contribute, through epistemological intervention, a shift from a techno-scientific discourse towards a more grounded and engaging process that values groundwater knowledge making as an everyday process . In doing so, I hope it also quells the dichotomy of indigenous vs modern knowledge, of good vs bad data, of scientific and superstition. 

Experiences across space and time

Like most interview situations, there are certain characteristics that determine the nature of the interview. I identify three: place where the interview is conducted, time of the year when the interview happens, and participant background, although, I think there may be many more. While participants background has been identified as an important criterion while doing and assessing interviews in many other settings, I would like to emphasize on the place and time of interviews from groundwater perspective. 

Water moves, stops, percolates, evaporates and saturates rocks. Water is pumped, contaminated, transported and stored. These things make it important to acknowledge and value the place and time of the interviews. I conducted most of the interview in the farms, near the wells, walking along the farm bunds, near the standing crops. I spoke to some farmers across the watershed, in upstream and downstream areas, near the stream and away from them, in irrigated farms, and in rainfed farms, near storage structures (like percolation tanks, storage tanks), and away from them. I did speak to some in their home, in their kitchen, understanding how water is brought in, or is supplied, how it is stored and used. These proved important as places determined the spaces that groundwater occupies and shapes- its flows, the porous rocks, directions of flow, behaviour of wells, ways of storing it, getting the infrastructure in place etc. 

At the same time, during what time of the year I conducted the interviews also shaped the discussions. While I began the discussions in the field as the summer of 2022 set in, many of the in-depth interviews began with the onset of monsoon. For example, interviews conducted in the summer consisted of observations and experiences during that period of the year- borewells stopping and starting, dug-wells being filled up from borewells, recovery of the well, new borewells being drilled etc. Interviews during the onset of monsoon focused on soil moisture, making land eligible for sowing, percolation from storages into dug-wells etc. Such diverse discussions meant a spectrum of groundwater practices and knowledges being dwelled upon. 

In the next part of the article, I will outline the key learning that has emerged from this experience. I have certain aspects that I have come to focus as I have begun re-hearing these interviews and in the process being transported back to those places and times of the year 2022. 

The making of an ‘exposure visit’

Exposure visits form crucial part of any training or capacity building initiative. It aims to bring forth the experience of what are the ‘best practices’ in a particular field. Planners/ organisers of such exercises attempt to inculcate an element of behavioural change amongst the participants of the exercise. The field of water (read groundwater too) is no exception to this. Many programmes devised by national and state governments aim to add the activity of ‘exposure visits’ for elected representatives or staff of a particular department to certain countries, areas, regions or communities wherein they may experience or ‘see for themselves’ the best practices in the field. This is equally true in the case of civil society organisations working in this space.

Source: CGWB Twitter Handle

But how much of this is an experience that is non-contextual? How can this understanding or knowledge about a certain practice or a case be translated and transported to other areas or villages? And lastly, how much of this is actually a ‘see for yourself’ experience? I trace these questions through my experiences of organising, conducting, attending (as a participant) such exposure visits. I speak about these with a particular emphasis on water sector (to be more specific, groundwater) and largely around programmes aimed at watershed based, community led practices. Thus, I do not speak about large hydrologic arrangements like dams or its canals.

The contextual nature of an exposure visit

Most exposure visits tend to inculcate the idea of a model village or a watershed. While most programmes are designed with the focus on water management, it tends to bring forth those aspects while masking much of the socio-political connotations that may have played a role in making such a village or an area ‘model’ or ‘ideal’. How often do participants explore (or get a chance to explore) such a context is a larger question.

Lot of these examples often paint a pre and post scenario. Certain challenges persisted amongst community members with regards to managing water, those were tackled through an intervention of implementing a certain programme through an NGO, local leadership or government agency. While this is indeed a valuable lesson, it also points us to the question about how we define success in such cases. 

The topographical context

Most of the model villages in my experience have been what are often termed as ‘classical watersheds’. Watersheds that may depict a ridge to valley view within one’s visual distance, wherein elevational or topographical variation becomes an important part of the design. If we see such model villages across, say Maharashtra, with the exception of Kadwanchi in Jalna district (which is touted to be a model village) we often see such a topographical connect. 

Why is such a topographical context important in the making of a model village? It is, because, it enables people (participants of exposure visit, in this case) actually ‘see’ the interventions or visualise the movement of water. Water moves and hence it has to be stopped, arrested, percolated, channelized and controlled- basically manage it. The technical- engineering paradigm of water governance lends value to this exercise.

Imagine village/s on a plain topography. How does one visualise these actions pertaining to water in such a scenario? But in a topographically skewed village, standing in one location/at one point in the watershed, we can ‘see’ and ‘show’ interventions of watershed works, see large percolation tanks and how they sit at the head of the village watershed, see dug-wells in the farms and can see the multiple streams that flow and meet together to form the order of streams. This is not possible in case of a village in the plains.

This is equally true about the maps produced for such villages. With a lot of contours (imaginary lines depicting certain elevation), the map becomes quite an interesting artefact to be observed and discussed.

The localised nature of cause and effect

Aquifers (especially shallow) and watersheds are mostly localised in peninsular India compared to the alluvial plains in North India. As a result any interventions in the form of watershed structures may enable one to visualise their effects within a relatively smaller scale. This makes it possible to create a cause and effect story even within a single village or a micro-watershed. Unlike alluvial plains wherein effects can be contiguous over large areas, hard rock regions tend to have localised and distinct impacts.

Evaluating impacts or constructing what can the potential impacts be in the first place, is one of the most crucial indicator of ‘success’ in any story. Maharashtra’s specific geomorphology allows one to undertake this exercise at a village scale thus making it possible to demarcate success from failure. Being able to see and show, within a single village, the impacts of the work undertaken helps participants of exposure visit visualise the success better.

Emphasizing what can be seen

In many such exposure visits, the key resource person (which in my experience, are mostly men), tells us about the interventions that were done as part of the watershed works based on certain inputs and how that has enabled the village to overcome scarcity, improve groundwater levels etc. These again form part of ‘what can be seen’- the technical artefacts of water management. Without highlighting or going into how land distribution is spread across the village, which castes have come to dominate certain ‘water areas’, lands with good soil depth etc, we focus on the nitty gritty of such structures. Emphasizing such a structural/interventional approach wherein land plays a key role leads to further invisibility of marginalised communities who may be landless. Where should a structure be constructed may be a scientific as well as a political question. But with ‘scientific rigour’ we tend to overlook the politics of water (Politics with a lower case p) and put our eyes and mind to the numerous structures out there to see.

Seeing is a culturally and theoretically laden practice (see this for reference). Why a certain structure and its design is in a certain place does not come common sensically or instinctively to everyone but has to be inculcated as part of a training, education and experience.

Where do we sit? And with whom?

Many a times, when the visit turns towards discussion and a question- answer mode, we go into a Gram Panchayat (local council) office or a watershed committee office or as is the case sometimes, in temples. It is assumed that these are inclusive spaces, spaces that are accessible to all in the community and so makes an ideal place for such conversations. A lot of times (mostly), these are in the main habitation and hence may be at a distance for many hamlets, tanda, vasti, pada who may find it difficult (for want of time, ease of access) to come for such meetings and sit with us. I often see participation from a certain group (a given set of individuals, which again, in many cases, are men) who no doubt discuss matters pertaining to all communities in the village but may underplay the politics of water.

For example, whenever a scheme comes into a village (say an RO plant, water supply scheme etc), the main habitation often gets prioritised. This is not the say that others may not benefit from the scheme, but when it comes to prioritising scheme implementation, the order often begins with this habitation. Thus, it may enable to paint a ‘rosy’ picture about the benefits received, the beneficiaries etc, but may miss out on the questions of equity and accessibility of water.

So, the next time you are out there, do question yourself, are you really sitting in an inclusive space?

Travelling ‘knowledge’

Once we understand the successes of such a model village and the institutional arrangements for the same, we intend to pick and choose the elements of these success that can be mobilised and implemented in other areas, villages and regions (recent example of this is the Atal Jal Yojana). We may, as well, succeed in understanding how a cement check dam works and may even construct it in some other place but can we create a similar story in other areas. We have seen that such models have often found places in policies and programmes that tend to pick and choose on the specific aspects of those success and tend to ‘scale up’ in other areas. However, we miss on certain key facets that I believe we need to think and ask more about:

  • What are the specific socio-cultural, political and economic context within which the water problem village functioned and enabled it to ‘succeed’?
  • Did we truly deconstruct the notion of community in such stories? 
  • What were the challenges that were faced by the ‘model village’ in the process to transform it? are these challenges contextual or can we learn from them so we are better prepared to engage with them in other places? 
  • What has been the role of ‘expertise’ in making this transformation possible? Can such an expertise be mobilised? 

‘See for yourself’? 

The idea of the exposure visit is to ‘see for yourself’. But do they really serve this purpose? Most exposure visits are often guided by some government official, NGO official, Key Resource Person (who is often from the area/village). They are trained, not consciously but through practice, to deliver, share and dialogue with the participants of the exposure visits. They often set the tone of the discussions, prioritise certain questions over others. It is not because they are avoiding certain uncomfortable discussion. 

As participants of exposure visit, we tend to paint a picture about the village or area and build certain expectations of what we will see there (pre and post stories, actual technical artefacts etc.). This enables us to construct our questions. Similarly, the people from the village who engage with these participants have a certain understanding about why they are here. Hence, in the process, they emphasize certain facets of the programme, project, success story over others. As a result, the overall effort shifts away from ‘see for yourself’ to ‘see for yourself what is shown’.

Epilogue

Geologists often use the term exposure to point to certain rock cuts/sub surface elements that are exposed on the surface. Using these as references and making observations about underlying subsurface are an important part of any geological mapping process. However, a geologist undergoes training and education to study and analyse such exposures, which forms the basis of what has to be observed, how it has to be observed and making inferences about what it entails for local geology. Does this remind you about an earlier statement- seeing as a culturally, theoretically laden practice (see this, if interested).

If you have had the patience to read till this point, here is an unsolicited advice. While organisers and planners of such exposure visits make meticulous plans, I think participants be better prepared for reading such exposure visits and to make the most out of such interesting interactions. Only with a conscious and interested participant can we move away from staging exposure visits to engaging exposure visits.