Mike and Val

Michael Yorke

A selection of 28 photos of the author, largely taken by Valerie, his partner, during the eighteen months spent in Singhbhum with the Ho ‘adivasis‘ while he was doing  anthropological research for his PhD at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London.

Typing my notes on our veranda which became our office. Each person had an index card. They were anxious about being reduced to text and troubled by whom they were next to, often wanting to be moved. They believed that their soul, their shadow, was on paper. From this I learnt a about their friendship networks. The headman told me that I would not learn by writing it down. It would be better to experience life for real.
Typing my notes on our veranda which became our office. Each person had an index card. They were anxious about being reduced to text and troubled by whom they were next to, often wanting to be moved. They believed that their soul, their shadow, was on paper. From this I learnt a about their friendship networks. The headman told me that I would not learn by writing it down. It would be better to experience life for real.
Michael at work in his office on the veranda of our mud house. The door behind leads into our living room, where we slept, cooked and ate our meals. In Ho society eating food, cooked in the sacred family rice pot, is a private act, subject to pollution if watched by outsiders.
Michael at work in his office on the veranda of our mud house. The door behind leads into our living room, where we slept, cooked and ate our meals. In Ho society eating food, cooked in the sacred family rice pot, is a private act, subject to pollution if watched by outsiders.
The author cow-dunging the entrance to our house in order to keep the dust down, entrap the fleas that lived n the cracks, and make it clean.
The author cow-dunging the entrance to our house in order to keep the dust down, entrap the fleas that lived n the cracks, and make it clean.
The author learning the Ho method of recording omens with palm fronds, on the veranda of our house. He is being helped by an interpreter and researcher, an educated Christian Ho, who only stayed briefly.
The author learning the Ho method of recording omens with palm fronds, on the veranda of our house. He is being helped by an interpreter and researcher, an educated Christian Ho, who only stayed briefly.
Valerie and Michael outside our house in Tungri, Chaibasa. This was our first house. In Chaibasa we learnt the Ho language and surveyed the Kolhan area to find a village to live in and do fieldwork.
Valerie and Michael outside our house in Tungri, Chaibasa. This was our first house. In Chaibasa we learnt the Ho language and surveyed the Kolhan area to find a village to live in and do fieldwork.
Valerie and Michael drinking their first leaf cups of rice beer on the roadside in Tungri, Chaibasa - our initiation into a new lifestyle. We were introduced into the ‘good manners’ of accepting one of the staples of Ho pleasure, sustenance and communal sharing. Francis Dhungdhung, our cook, is stooping to sit on the left.
Valerie and Michael drinking their first leaf cups of rice beer on the roadside in Tungri, Chaibasa - our initiation into a new lifestyle. We were introduced into the ‘good manners’ of accepting one of the staples of Ho pleasure, sustenance and communal sharing. Francis Dhungdhung, our cook, is stooping to sit on the left.
Having drunk our rice beer, we had to offer it back to our concierge. In Ho society only women were taught by the creator deity to brew rice beer. This gave women control over the consumption of alcohol. Men could only be the recipients, but they had to return the pleasure, offering it back to the woman who brewed it, one of the important social controls in Ho culture.
Having drunk our rice beer, we had to offer it back to our concierge. In Ho society only women were taught by the creator deity to brew rice beer. This gave women control over the consumption of alcohol. Men could only be the recipients, but they had to return the pleasure, offering it back to the woman who brewed it, one of the important social controls in Ho culture.
The author romping with his neighbours' children on his blow-up lilo in the nearby stream, during the heat of summer at over 40 degrees.
The author romping with his neighbours' children on his blow-up lilo in the nearby stream, during the heat of summer at over 40 degrees.
Mike being tipped off his lilo by his neighbours' children, while trying to keep cool in a nearby stream during the 40+ degree heat of summer .
Mike being tipped off his lilo by his neighbours' children, while trying to keep cool in a nearby stream during the 40+ degree heat of summer .
Mike having fun with his neighbours' children in the heat of summer. Keeping cool was not easy.
Mike having fun with his neighbours' children in the heat of summer. Keeping cool was not easy.
When we arrived in Dubil, with the permission of the headman, Bamiya Champia, we set our tent beside his house. Here I am warming up at dawn round his fire with his family. His two wives, Palo and Menjo, are sweeping the courtyard while I chat with his children and the chickens peck around for their breakfast.
When we arrived in Dubil, with the permission of the headman, Bamiya Champia, we set our tent beside his house. Here I am warming up at dawn round his fire with his family. His two wives, Palo and Menjo, are sweeping the courtyard while I chat with his children and the chickens peck around for their breakfast.
The author taking a break during a village council meeting, ‘panchayat’, and lighting a pipe of locally grown and cured tobacco. In the heat of summer, Michael kept cool in a local dhoti, ganji and turban.
The author taking a break during a village council meeting, ‘panchayat’, and lighting a pipe of locally grown and cured tobacco. In the heat of summer, Michael kept cool in a local dhoti, ganji and turban.
The author watching a goat being butchered after a village council meeting, ‘panchayat’. The goat was demanded by the elders as compensation for one that the defendant had been tried and found guilty of stealing.
The author watching a goat being butchered after a village council meeting, ‘panchayat’. The goat was demanded by the elders as compensation for one that the defendant had been tried and found guilty of stealing.
The author filming with his Bolex 16mm film camera. The end result was his movie that you can see on this website. Its title is “The Ho: People of the Rice Pot”.
The author filming with his Bolex 16mm film camera. The end result was his movie that you can see on this website. Its title is “The Ho: People of the Rice Pot”.
The author filming two children fishing in the stream that runs through Dubil.
The author filming two children fishing in the stream that runs through Dubil.
The author facing off a billy goat while waiting for a bus at Bara Jamda on the way back to Chaibasa.
The author facing off a billy goat while waiting for a bus at Bara Jamda on the way back to Chaibasa.
The author looking affectionately at his namesake, Paiku. His mother wanted him to be called after me. But my name ‘Michael’ sounds like ‘Maiko’ meaning ‘daughters’ in Ho. So it was changed to ‘Paiku’. This was his naming ceremony and his mother was happy at her son having an English name.
The author looking affectionately at his namesake, Paiku. His mother wanted him to be called after me. But my name ‘Michael’ sounds like ‘Maiko’ meaning ‘daughters’ in Ho. So it was changed to ‘Paiku’. This was his naming ceremony and his mother was happy at her son having an English name.
Michael on a cot with his namesake Paiku. Paiku’s mother wanted him called after me, because Valerie had cured her husband with some western antibiotics. My name sounds like ‘Maiko’, which means daughters in Ho. So it was changed to ‘Paiku’, a common Ho name. His two elder brothers look thrilled. Standing at the back is Salome Herenz, our interpreter.
Michael on a cot with his namesake Paiku. Paiku’s mother wanted him called after me, because Valerie had cured her husband with some western antibiotics. My name sounds like ‘Maiko’, which means daughters in Ho. So it was changed to ‘Paiku’, a common Ho name. His two elder brothers look thrilled. Standing at the back is Salome Herenz, our interpreter.
The author attempting to slaughter a goat for the farewell feast that we gave the Dubil villagers when we went home to Britain. It is considered a good omen if the host beheads it with one stroke. I failed at this attempt and only slashed its ear.
The author attempting to slaughter a goat for the farewell feast that we gave the Dubil villagers when we went home to Britain. It is considered a good omen if the host beheads it with one stroke. I failed at this attempt and only slashed its ear.
The author photoing a group of Birhor tribals, who settled in leaf huts near Dubil. They are known by the Ho as ‘Jom sarae’ or monkey eaters. They are itinerant hunter-gatherers, wandering around the Saranda forest, living entirely on forest produce. They do not cultivate crops and live in temporary leaf shelters.
The author photoing a group of Birhor tribals, who settled in leaf huts near Dubil. They are known by the Ho as ‘Jom sarae’ or monkey eaters. They are itinerant hunter-gatherers, wandering around the Saranda forest, living entirely on forest produce. They do not cultivate crops and live in temporary leaf shelters.
The author standing with Salome Herenz, his interpreter, Mongol, the paramount headman’s son, and the four sons of his neighbour and landlord Sukuram Champia. Chipiri is next to Salome. We are in the shared courtyard of our houses.
The author standing with Salome Herenz, his interpreter, Mongol, the paramount headman’s son, and the four sons of his neighbour and landlord Sukuram Champia. Chipiri is next to Salome. We are in the shared courtyard of our houses.
A formal image of us with our landlord’s family in our shared courtyard. Back row: Sukuram Champia. Valerie Yorke. Pelon Champia, née Hasda (a Santal tribal). Baby Besera. Michael Yorke. Salome Herenz (a Munda tribal). In the front row: Bisu. Bamiya. Selai. Lal. Basu.
A formal image of us with our landlord’s family in our shared courtyard. Back row: Sukuram Champia. Valerie Yorke. Pelon Champia, née Hasda (a Santal tribal). Baby Besera. Michael Yorke. Salome Herenz (a Munda tribal). In the front row: Bisu. Bamiya. Selai. Lal. Basu.
The author dancing after giving our farewell feast to our neighbours. The two ‘dumaing’ hand drums are gifts we gave to the village for being so generous to us and welcoming us into their lives for more than a year.
The author dancing after giving our farewell feast to our neighbours. The two ‘dumaing’ hand drums are gifts we gave to the village for being so generous to us and welcoming us into their lives for more than a year.
Michael and Salome Herenz, his interpreter, listening to a village council meeting, a ‘panchayat’.
Michael and Salome Herenz, his interpreter, listening to a village council meeting, a ‘panchayat’.
The author playing the fool with his landlord’s children, who had been fishing in the stream beside our house in Dubil.
The author playing the fool with his landlord’s children, who had been fishing in the stream beside our house in Dubil.
The author in the doorway of our house in European Quarters, Chaibasa.
The author in the doorway of our house in European Quarters, Chaibasa.
Michaelr chatting to a passing Ho tribal while walking along the main street through Chaibasa, the administrative capital of Singhbhum District.
Michaelr chatting to a passing Ho tribal while walking along the main street through Chaibasa, the administrative capital of Singhbhum District.
The author drinking a cup of tea and eating a ’pera’ sweetmeat, in our favourite teashop in a backstreet in Chaibasa.
The author drinking a cup of tea and eating a ’pera’ sweetmeat, in our favourite teashop in a backstreet in Chaibasa.
On our first journey from Chaibasa to Dubil, with a trailer load of our belongings in a metal trunk. Here we are crossing the Koina River. Val stands back, anxious whether we can make it across the bridge near Chhotanagra that has been damaged in the recent monsoon rains.
On our first journey from Chaibasa to Dubil, with a trailer load of our belongings in a metal trunk. Here we are crossing the Koina River. Val stands back, anxious whether we can make it across the bridge near Chhotanagra that has been damaged in the recent monsoon rains.
On our first journey to Dubil, over rough roads, we frequently broke down, needing repairs to the suspension. We felt we were going somewhere very remote.
On our first journey to Dubil, over rough roads, we frequently broke down, needing repairs to the suspension. We felt we were going somewhere very remote.
Our first arrival in Dubil at the house of the village paramount headman ‘Manki’ Bamiya Champia. Augustus, the driver and Francis, the cook, stand beside the jeep.
Our first arrival in Dubil at the house of the village paramount headman ‘Manki’ Bamiya Champia. Augustus, the driver and Francis, the cook, stand beside the jeep.
Fording the Koina River between Chhotanagra and Dubil. Francis Dhungdhung, our cook, testing the depth, with Valerie and Salome, our interpreter following. It was a safe and exciting journey.
Fording the Koina River between Chhotanagra and Dubil. Francis Dhungdhung, our cook, testing the depth, with Valerie and Salome, our interpreter following. It was a safe and exciting journey.
Having left the trailer the other side of the small stream, the Manki's family take a lift to fetch our luggage.
Having left the trailer the other side of the small stream, the Manki's family take a lift to fetch our luggage.
The final challenge, crossing the Koina river between Chhotanagra and Dubil.
The final challenge, crossing the Koina river between Chhotanagra and Dubil.

Jeep trip to Dubil

In early 1973 we travelled with interpreter Salome Herenz and Francis Dhungdhung, our cook, to Dubil. The Jesuit missionaries in Chaibasa lent us a jeep and trailer for the day, driven by Augustus. The jeep crossed the Koina river with difficulty and  by late afternoon we arrived at headman, ‘Manki‘ Bamiya Champia’s house.

Our farewell party dance

When we left Dubil, after a year and a half, we gave a feast for our neighbours. Afterwards we all went to the ‘susun akhara‘, the dance ground, and held an affectionate dance party at which they used the two ‘dumaing‘ drums that we had given them.

 

 

 

 

CHRISTMAS DAY 1972. My partner, Valerie Yorke, receiving a Christmas gift of a bag of rice from one of Sindhu Sombroi's family.
CHRISTMAS DAY 1972. My partner, Valerie Yorke, receiving a Christmas gift of a bag of rice from one of Sindhu Sombroi's family.
My partner Valerie Yorke receiving a Christmas gift of a chicken from Sindhu's mother.
My partner Valerie Yorke receiving a Christmas gift of a chicken from Sindhu's mother.
Val drinking rice beer ‘diyang’ with Sindhu Sombroi to celebrate Christmas day 1972. On the leaf you can see some sweetmeats titbits ‘chakana’ to eat with the beer.
Val drinking rice beer ‘diyang’ with Sindhu Sombroi to celebrate Christmas day 1972. On the leaf you can see some sweetmeats titbits ‘chakana’ to eat with the beer.
The rice beer being sieved and mixed with water for us to celebrate Christmas day. On the leaf you can see some sweetmeat titbits ‘chakana’ to eat with the beer.
The rice beer being sieved and mixed with water for us to celebrate Christmas day. On the leaf you can see some sweetmeat titbits ‘chakana’ to eat with the beer.
The Sombroi family in front of their house on Christmas day 1972, near Chaibasa.
The Sombroi family in front of their house on Christmas day 1972, near Chaibasa.
Valerie dancing with Bamiya Champia, the paramount headman, and his first wife, Palo. Ruidas Champia, Bamiya’s youngest brother, plays the kettle drum. Mongol, Bamiya’s son, and Bisu, Bamiya’s younger brother’s eldest son, are playing the two ‘dumaing’ drums that we gifted to the Dubil villagers.
Valerie dancing with Bamiya Champia, the paramount headman, and his first wife, Palo. Ruidas Champia, Bamiya’s youngest brother, plays the kettle drum. Mongol, Bamiya’s son, and Bisu, Bamiya’s younger brother’s eldest son, are playing the two ‘dumaing’ drums that we gifted to the Dubil villagers.
Valerie dancing arm-in-arm with Bamiya Champia, the village paramount headman, and his first wife Palo. Ruidas Champia, Bamiya’s youngest brother, on the big kettle drum. Mongol, Bamiya’s son, and Bisu, Bamiya’s younger brother’s eldest son playing the two ‘dumaing’ hand drums that we gifted to the Dubil villagers.
Valerie dancing arm-in-arm with Bamiya Champia, the village paramount headman, and his first wife Palo. Ruidas Champia, Bamiya’s youngest brother, on the big kettle drum. Mongol, Bamiya’s son, and Bisu, Bamiya’s younger brother’s eldest son playing the two ‘dumaing’ hand drums that we gifted to the Dubil villagers.
Valerie Yorke dancing arm-in-arm with Bamiya Champia, the village paramount headman, and his first wife Palo. Ruidas Champia, Bamiya’s youngest brother, leads the dance wearing the woollen jumper that we gave him. Next to Bamiya are his childen, Pelon and Chumbru. Bisu, his nephew plays the 'dumaing' drum.
Valerie Yorke dancing arm-in-arm with Bamiya Champia, the village paramount headman, and his first wife Palo. Ruidas Champia, Bamiya’s youngest brother, leads the dance wearing the woollen jumper that we gave him. Next to Bamiya are his childen, Pelon and Chumbru. Bisu, his nephew plays the 'dumaing' drum.
Rear view of Valerie dancing arm-in-arm with all our female neighbours, who were her good friends. Chipiri, who spent much time with us, has her arm round Val.
Rear view of Valerie dancing arm-in-arm with all our female neighbours, who were her good friends. Chipiri, who spent much time with us, has her arm round Val.
Valerie laughing arm-in-arm with Bamiya Champia, the village paramount headman, and his eldest wife Palo, while dancing at our farewell party.
Valerie laughing arm-in-arm with Bamiya Champia, the village paramount headman, and his eldest wife Palo, while dancing at our farewell party.
A photo I especially like, showing the friendship that Valerie had with Bamiya’s youngest daughter Chipiri, with whom we had a close relationship and which she had for Val shown by her wanting to join in our farewell dance with Val.
A photo I especially like, showing the friendship that Valerie had with Bamiya’s youngest daughter Chipiri, with whom we had a close relationship and which she had for Val shown by her wanting to join in our farewell dance with Val.
A farewell close moment between Valerie and Chipiri Champia, as she gives Chipiri a goodbye momento. Sukuram's son looks on curiously.
A farewell close moment between Valerie and Chipiri Champia, as she gives Chipiri a goodbye momento. Sukuram's son looks on curiously.
The Manki's brothers and sons dance with Val.
The Manki's brothers and sons dance with Val.

Christmas day

We spent Christmas day 1972 with Sindhu Sombroi and his family near Chaibasa. Sindu, a teacher, taught me the Ho language. Father Deeney recommended him. The family were Christians. They all went to church. The tribal festivities involved drinking rice beer, ‘diyang‘.

 

 

 

Our houses, in Dubil, and in Chaibasa

A series of images of the various houses in which lived, in the remote village of Dubil, in the Saranda forest, and our concrete retreat in Chaibasa, the capital of Singhbhum.  Here we had electricity, water, a toilet, and access to the wider world via the post office.

The living room in the house that we were given in Dubil. It was the bed bug infested house of Sukuram Champia, the younger brother of the paramount headman. So we bought some TK20 insecticide and treated the entire building. To the left is the sacred cooking hearth, the 'ading', where the ancestral spirits live. In the corner is the pen where we kept our chickens. However Sukuram still used the store room at the back and the cow and goat shed beside the front door.
The living room in the house that we were given in Dubil. It was the bed bug infested house of Sukuram Champia, the younger brother of the paramount headman. So we bought some TK20 insecticide and treated the entire building. To the left is the sacred cooking hearth, the 'ading', where the ancestral spirits live. In the corner is the pen where we kept our chickens. However Sukuram still used the store room at the back and the cow and goat shed beside the front door.
On arriving in Dubil, we set up our tent beside the house of Bamiya Champia Manki, the paramount headman. He agreed we could stay in his village. Our tent is bottom right. My partner, Valerie, is sweeping the courtyard with Palo, Bamiya's first wife. Our metal trunk is against their wall. Later he offered us the small room behind Valerie. It was infested with bed bugs, so we retreated into our tent.
On arriving in Dubil, we set up our tent beside the house of Bamiya Champia Manki, the paramount headman. He agreed we could stay in his village. Our tent is bottom right. My partner, Valerie, is sweeping the courtyard with Palo, Bamiya's first wife. Our metal trunk is against their wall. Later he offered us the small room behind Valerie. It was infested with bed bugs, so we retreated into our tent.
On our first morning in Dubil we awoke to the morning chill and sat around a fire beside our tent, chatting, in our limited Ho language, to the children, while Bamiya Champia's two wives, Palo and Menjo, swept up the litter and dust of his courtyard, and the chickens pecked around for their breakfast.
On our first morning in Dubil we awoke to the morning chill and sat around a fire beside our tent, chatting, in our limited Ho language, to the children, while Bamiya Champia's two wives, Palo and Menjo, swept up the litter and dust of his courtyard, and the chickens pecked around for their breakfast.
This is the house of Sukuram Champia, Bamiya's younger brother, that we finally lived in for most of our year and a half in Dubil. It is covered in a gourd after the monsoon rains. In the foreground you can see the fence that we built around our tomato patch, our attempt to show the villagers a new crop they could grow and sell.
This is the house of Sukuram Champia, Bamiya's younger brother, that we finally lived in for most of our year and a half in Dubil. It is covered in a gourd after the monsoon rains. In the foreground you can see the fence that we built around our tomato patch, our attempt to show the villagers a new crop they could grow and sell.
The house in which we lived, covered in a pumpkin creeper during the monsoons. To its the right is the smaller house of Sukuram Champia, our landlord, who lived there with his wife, Pelon, and their six small children. We shared the same courtyard.
The house in which we lived, covered in a pumpkin creeper during the monsoons. To its the right is the smaller house of Sukuram Champia, our landlord, who lived there with his wife, Pelon, and their six small children. We shared the same courtyard.
Every morning, at dawn, Sukuram's two cocks climbed onto his roof and gave us a dawn chorus - our wake-up call.
Every morning, at dawn, Sukuram's two cocks climbed onto his roof and gave us a dawn chorus - our wake-up call.
A wide shot of the house that we lived in for most of our year and a half in Dubil. It is covered in a gourd vine during the monsoon season. You can see how close it was to the surrounding forests.
A wide shot of the house that we lived in for most of our year and a half in Dubil. It is covered in a gourd vine during the monsoon season. You can see how close it was to the surrounding forests.
A formal photo of our neighbour’s family in front of our house that was previously theirs, just across our shared courtyard. From left to right is Bisu, Bamiya, Selai, Sukuram Champia, their father, Lal, baby Besera, their mother Pelon, née Hasda, a Santal, and Basu.
A formal photo of our neighbour’s family in front of our house that was previously theirs, just across our shared courtyard. From left to right is Bisu, Bamiya, Selai, Sukuram Champia, their father, Lal, baby Besera, their mother Pelon, née Hasda, a Santal, and Basu.
All our neighbour’s children looking at a newspaper article that Valerie’s mother sent us of Prince Anne’s wedding to Mark. We pasted it to our house wall and it fascinated our neighbours' children.
All our neighbour’s children looking at a newspaper article that Valerie’s mother sent us of Prince Anne’s wedding to Mark. We pasted it to our house wall and it fascinated our neighbours' children.
Michael standing in the doorway of our house in Chaibasa. We used this to stay in when life in Dubil exhausted us. In Chaibasa we could get our mail and to consult the regional government archives. You can see the string cots that we slept on. They are covered with rice drying in the sun before we took it back to our mud house in Dubil, some 35 miles and a day's journey to the southwest.
Michael standing in the doorway of our house in Chaibasa. We used this to stay in when life in Dubil exhausted us. In Chaibasa we could get our mail and to consult the regional government archives. You can see the string cots that we slept on. They are covered with rice drying in the sun before we took it back to our mud house in Dubil, some 35 miles and a day's journey to the southwest.
Valerie, my partner, outside the house in Chaibasa's European Quarters. It was our escape from the hard work of living in Dubil. We could visit the post office to pick up mail from home, consult the regional government archives, and buy supplies and medicines for village life.
Valerie, my partner, outside the house in Chaibasa's European Quarters. It was our escape from the hard work of living in Dubil. We could visit the post office to pick up mail from home, consult the regional government archives, and buy supplies and medicines for village life.
Our house in Dubil village after the monsoon rains, covered with a gourd creeper vine. To the left of it you can see the roof of Sukuram Champia’s house, our landlord, who had let us live in his old house that had become uninhabitable and infested with bed bugs.
Our house in Dubil village after the monsoon rains, covered with a gourd creeper vine. To the left of it you can see the roof of Sukuram Champia’s house, our landlord, who had let us live in his old house that had become uninhabitable and infested with bed bugs.
The storage room in the back of our house, the 'tantara'. Our landlord Sukuram Champia continued to use it. It shows the typical things that a Ho villager needs to maintain his life and economy; a wide range of ceramic clay pots, pestles, brushes, peacock feathers, volumetric measures 'poilako', bamboo rice beer sieves and bundles of seed grain for next years crops.
The storage room in the back of our house, the 'tantara'. Our landlord Sukuram Champia continued to use it. It shows the typical things that a Ho villager needs to maintain his life and economy; a wide range of ceramic clay pots, pestles, brushes, peacock feathers, volumetric measures 'poilako', bamboo rice beer sieves and bundles of seed grain for next years crops.
Teaching a young boy how to read English in Chaibasa.
Teaching a young boy how to read English in Chaibasa.
Being taught how a woman should carry a water pot on her head after arriving in Chaibasa.
Being taught how a woman should carry a water pot on her head after arriving in Chaibasa.
Taking notes about the birth of a new born baby to Suru Uindi, a Lohar blacksmith clan in Dubil. Valerie is recording the rituals around birth and the future naming ceremony.
Taking notes about the birth of a new born baby to Suru Uindi, a Lohar blacksmith clan in Dubil. Valerie is recording the rituals around birth and the future naming ceremony.
With the Kumhar potter community near Chaibasa.
With the Kumhar potter community near Chaibasa.
With the manager of an asbestos mine near Chaibasa. Note the tribal women carrying asbestos in baskets on their head. In 1972 little was known about the harmful effects of asbestos.
With the manager of an asbestos mine near Chaibasa. Note the tribal women carrying asbestos in baskets on their head. In 1972 little was known about the harmful effects of asbestos.
Having their first taste of the traditional Ho fermented rice beer ‘diyang', soon after arriving in Chaibasa. Standing on the left of the group is our cook, Francis Dhungdhung. Here Val is being taught how to hold a leaf cup of rice beer, which is not as easy as it looks. A leaf cup is unstable. The Ho woman selling the rice beer has a pile of creeper leaves 'rung sakam' she has collected. The onlookers are amused that we want to drink the local rice beer.
Having their first taste of the traditional Ho fermented rice beer ‘diyang', soon after arriving in Chaibasa. Standing on the left of the group is our cook, Francis Dhungdhung. Here Val is being taught how to hold a leaf cup of rice beer, which is not as easy as it looks. A leaf cup is unstable. The Ho woman selling the rice beer has a pile of creeper leaves 'rung sakam' she has collected. The onlookers are amused that we want to drink the local rice beer.
Seated with the tribal concierge and family who helped us when we first moved to a house in Tungri in Chaibasa. For two months we learnt the Ho language and travelled around the district to decide where we would base our research. Our cook Francis Dhungdhung is second on the right.
Seated with the tribal concierge and family who helped us when we first moved to a house in Tungri in Chaibasa. For two months we learnt the Ho language and travelled around the district to decide where we would base our research. Our cook Francis Dhungdhung is second on the right.
At work on our typewriter. Notebooks and paper are carefully held down from blowing away. Her table is our insulated film storage box. While an umbrella, tied to a fence post, protects her from the sun. Behind her is our tent. A house was arranged for us later.
At work on our typewriter. Notebooks and paper are carefully held down from blowing away. Her table is our insulated film storage box. While an umbrella, tied to a fence post, protects her from the sun. Behind her is our tent. A house was arranged for us later.
Here Chipiri Champia, our fictively adopted daughter, is trying to tie Valerie’s hair into bun on the back of her head in the same style that nearly all Ho women adopt. She wants us to be more like them. It is causing her great amusement to turn Valerie into a Ho woman. You can see that Chipiri's forehead is covered in white clay, ‘rugri hasa’. This is a grease absorbing ‘fuller’s earth’ that she has just used to wash her hair.
Here Chipiri Champia, our fictively adopted daughter, is trying to tie Valerie’s hair into bun on the back of her head in the same style that nearly all Ho women adopt. She wants us to be more like them. It is causing her great amusement to turn Valerie into a Ho woman. You can see that Chipiri's forehead is covered in white clay, ‘rugri hasa’. This is a grease absorbing ‘fuller’s earth’ that she has just used to wash her hair.
While Chipiri Champia, our fictively adopted daughter, is tying Valerie’s hair in a bun in the same style that Ho women adopt. She examines her scalp for lice that bother everyone. This is a common social activity denoting close friendship.
While Chipiri Champia, our fictively adopted daughter, is tying Valerie’s hair in a bun in the same style that Ho women adopt. She examines her scalp for lice that bother everyone. This is a common social activity denoting close friendship.
Washing in the small stream that runs just below our house in Dubil. You can see her block of valuable soap that we brought to the village. It rests on a stone slab that the villagers use for washing their clothes on.
Washing in the small stream that runs just below our house in Dubil. You can see her block of valuable soap that we brought to the village. It rests on a stone slab that the villagers use for washing their clothes on.
Being given a bag of husked rice for her Christmas present by Sindhu Sombroi’s wife on Christmas day 1973. She is also holding the chicken that she was given earlier.
Being given a bag of husked rice for her Christmas present by Sindhu Sombroi’s wife on Christmas day 1973. She is also holding the chicken that she was given earlier.
Waving goodbye to Sindhu Sombroi’s family after being with them on Christmas Day 1973. Sindhu had been teaching us the Ho language and was a Christian convert tribal living near Chaibasa.
Waving goodbye to Sindhu Sombroi’s family after being with them on Christmas Day 1973. Sindhu had been teaching us the Ho language and was a Christian convert tribal living near Chaibasa.
Sweeping the courtyard in the early morning between our tent and Bamiya Champia’s house. She is helping Menjo Champia, his second wife. This is a daily job for women. A;so visible is our metal trunk and a wing of our tent that we stayed in during our first few days in Dubil.
Sweeping the courtyard in the early morning between our tent and Bamiya Champia’s house. She is helping Menjo Champia, his second wife. This is a daily job for women. A;so visible is our metal trunk and a wing of our tent that we stayed in during our first few days in Dubil.
Holding the dead krait snake that Chumbru Champia shot when it was in the rafters of our hut. Its bite is no more painful than a mosquito bite, but can lead to death 4-5 hours later. In the monsoons, when their holes fill with water, they come into houses. Some people, who are bitten while asleep, never wake up. It was a large krait that we spotted before it fell on our bed.
Holding the dead krait snake that Chumbru Champia shot when it was in the rafters of our hut. Its bite is no more painful than a mosquito bite, but can lead to death 4-5 hours later. In the monsoons, when their holes fill with water, they come into houses. Some people, who are bitten while asleep, never wake up. It was a large krait that we spotted before it fell on our bed.
The common krait, a lethally venomous snake that Chumbru Champia shot with his bow and arrow, when it was found in the rafters of our house. Its bite is no more painful than a mosquito bite, but can lead to death 4-5 hours later. Some who are bitten while asleep never wake up.
The common krait, a lethally venomous snake that Chumbru Champia shot with his bow and arrow, when it was found in the rafters of our house. Its bite is no more painful than a mosquito bite, but can lead to death 4-5 hours later. Some who are bitten while asleep never wake up.
This snake was shot by Chumbru Champia. It was in the rafters over our bed. It is highly venomous. In the monsoons, when their holes fill with water, they come into houses. Some people who are bitten while asleep never wake up. When the young boys heard about it, they all came running with their bows and arrows.
This snake was shot by Chumbru Champia. It was in the rafters over our bed. It is highly venomous. In the monsoons, when their holes fill with water, they come into houses. Some people who are bitten while asleep never wake up. When the young boys heard about it, they all came running with their bows and arrows.
A formal photo with all the Christian girls at the Gossner Evangelical mission school in Chaibasa.
A formal photo with all the Christian girls at the Gossner Evangelical mission school in Chaibasa.
Drinking rice beer ‘diyang’ at Sindu Sombroi’s house on Christmas day 1972. He taught me the Ho language during our first three months in Chaibasa. You can see the sweetmeat titbits ‘chakana’ on leaf plates that are traditionally offered with a drink of ‘diyang’.
Drinking rice beer ‘diyang’ at Sindu Sombroi’s house on Christmas day 1972. He taught me the Ho language during our first three months in Chaibasa. You can see the sweetmeat titbits ‘chakana’ on leaf plates that are traditionally offered with a drink of ‘diyang’.
Working at her typewritten notes while Menjo Champia and her daughter Chipiri look on amused at my taking a photo. Our veranda was the only office space that we had.
Working at her typewritten notes while Menjo Champia and her daughter Chipiri look on amused at my taking a photo. Our veranda was the only office space that we had.
Giving helping a member of the Uindi clan.
Giving helping a member of the Uindi clan.
Valerie and Salome Herenz being taught by Pelon Champia how to thresh and husk newly harvested rice with her feet.
Valerie and Salome Herenz being taught by Pelon Champia how to thresh and husk newly harvested rice with her feet.
Walking back from the weekly market in nearby Chhotanagra and passing by a group of women weeding their young paddy rice field.
Walking back from the weekly market in nearby Chhotanagra and passing by a group of women weeding their young paddy rice field.
Dressed in a petticoat and choli wielding a mattock to prepare the soil for planting our demonstration crop of tomatoes, intended to show the villagers a new source of income and tastier food.
Dressed in a petticoat and choli wielding a mattock to prepare the soil for planting our demonstration crop of tomatoes, intended to show the villagers a new source of income and tastier food.
Chatting with Bhagun Champia's wife Sukurmuni and her two children, and helped by Salome Herenz our interpreter. She was our neighbour.
Chatting with Bhagun Champia's wife Sukurmuni and her two children, and helped by Salome Herenz our interpreter. She was our neighbour.
In our doorway, with Chipiri on her lap. She is the second daughter of Bamiya Champia Manki’s second wife, Menjo. Note that she too has a ‘sipiting’, safety pin that we gave her. She uses it to remove thorns from her feet as she has no sandals. This is one of our favourite photos. It shows the relaxed and affectionate relationship we had.
In our doorway, with Chipiri on her lap. She is the second daughter of Bamiya Champia Manki’s second wife, Menjo. Note that she too has a ‘sipiting’, safety pin that we gave her. She uses it to remove thorns from her feet as she has no sandals. This is one of our favourite photos. It shows the relaxed and affectionate relationship we had.
Chatting with Ruidas Champia after the tythe for the Raja of Manoharpur has been settled at the village headman’s house.
Chatting with Ruidas Champia after the tythe for the Raja of Manoharpur has been settled at the village headman’s house.
Chatting with the young women of Dubil on the veranda of our house with our water-cooling pot ‘surahi’ beside her. She had relaxed relations with the women.
Chatting with the young women of Dubil on the veranda of our house with our water-cooling pot ‘surahi’ beside her. She had relaxed relations with the women.
The women would often stop at our house on their way to the nearby stream. Our veranda became a centre of village gossip. Here the three girls in the foreground are dressed in their best saris on their way to dance during one of the many festivals.
The women would often stop at our house on their way to the nearby stream. Our veranda became a centre of village gossip. Here the three girls in the foreground are dressed in their best saris on their way to dance during one of the many festivals.
On the veranda of our house which became a frequent place for a chat by anyone from the nearby hamlet of Marang Toli on their way to and from the river.
On the veranda of our house which became a frequent place for a chat by anyone from the nearby hamlet of Marang Toli on their way to and from the river.
Chatting with the women and children on the veranda of our house. Chipiri stands beside her.
Chatting with the women and children on the veranda of our house. Chipiri stands beside her.
Val with Salome Herenz wading through the Koina River on their way back from the weekly market. The umbrella is to give shade in the heat of summer.
Val with Salome Herenz wading through the Koina River on their way back from the weekly market. The umbrella is to give shade in the heat of summer.
Wading through the Koina River, flip-flops in hand, on her way back from the Chhotanagra weekly market. The umbrella is to give shade in the heat of summer.
Wading through the Koina River, flip-flops in hand, on her way back from the Chhotanagra weekly market. The umbrella is to give shade in the heat of summer.
With the Maharaja of Seraikela outside his Seraikela Palace. He is the overlord of the many smaller rajas in Singbhum District, such as Manoharpur, Chakradharpur and Porahat. He is also the patron and manager of the internationally renowned Chhau Dance Troup.
With the Maharaja of Seraikela outside his Seraikela Palace. He is the overlord of the many smaller rajas in Singbhum District, such as Manoharpur, Chakradharpur and Porahat. He is also the patron and manager of the internationally renowned Chhau Dance Troup.
With the Maharaja of Seraikela outside his Seraikela Palace. He is the overlord of the many smaller rajas in Singbhum District, such as Manoharpur, Chakradharpur and Porahat. He is also the patron and manager of the internationally renowned Chhau Dance Troup.
With the Maharaja of Seraikela outside his Seraikela Palace. He is the overlord of the many smaller rajas in Singbhum District, such as Manoharpur, Chakradharpur and Porahat. He is also the patron and manager of the internationally renowned Chhau Dance Troup.
Photographing an encampment of Birhor tribal itinerant hunter gatherers who briefly settles near Dubil living in temporary leaf shelters.Photographing an encampment of Birhor tribal itinerant hunter gatherers who briefly settles near Dubil living in temporary leaf shelters.
Photographing an encampment of Birhor tribal itinerant hunter gatherers who briefly settles near Dubil living in temporary leaf shelters.Photographing an encampment of Birhor tribal itinerant hunter gatherers who briefly settles near Dubil living in temporary leaf shelters.
Walking along the path back to our house in Dubil with Salome Herenz and Chipiri Champia.
Walking along the path back to our house in Dubil with Salome Herenz and Chipiri Champia.
Dancing with assembled villagers of Dubil on one of the major ceremonial holidays. Chumbru and Ruidas Champia are playing the drums.
Dancing with assembled villagers of Dubil on one of the major ceremonial holidays. Chumbru and Ruidas Champia are playing the drums.
Saying a final farewell to Chipiri Champia, who kept us such good company during our year and a half in Dubil. Val had said on one of our early days that if we had a daughter, she would be called Chipiri. This introduced us into the complex kinship system of the Ho as she became the ‘mother of Chipiri’ and therefore the paramount headman’s potentially third wife.
Saying a final farewell to Chipiri Champia, who kept us such good company during our year and a half in Dubil. Val had said on one of our early days that if we had a daughter, she would be called Chipiri. This introduced us into the complex kinship system of the Ho as she became the ‘mother of Chipiri’ and therefore the paramount headman’s potentially third wife.
With Bamiya Manki, the paramount headman of Dubil and his sister outside his house. Clearly a group of good friends.
With Bamiya Manki, the paramount headman of Dubil and his sister outside his house. Clearly a group of good friends.
Bamiya Champia is chasing Valerie, in front of his house. He is jokingly claiming her as his third wife. She earlier said that if she has a daughter, she will call her Chipiri, his daughter. This would mean that she could be his third wife. This was a typical display of exaggerated and humorous behaviour during the ‘Maghe Porob’ festival.
Bamiya Champia is chasing Valerie, in front of his house. He is jokingly claiming her as his third wife. She earlier said that if she has a daughter, she will call her Chipiri, his daughter. This would mean that she could be his third wife. This was a typical display of exaggerated and humorous behaviour during the ‘Maghe Porob’ festival.
Bamiya Champia is chasing Valerie, around the field in front of his house. He is jokingly claiming her as his third wife. She earlier said that if she has a daughter, she will call her Chipiri. This would mean that she could be his third wife. This was a typical display of humorous behaviour during the ‘Maghe Porob’ festival.
Bamiya Champia is chasing Valerie, around the field in front of his house. He is jokingly claiming her as his third wife. She earlier said that if she has a daughter, she will call her Chipiri. This would mean that she could be his third wife. This was a typical display of humorous behaviour during the ‘Maghe Porob’ festival.
With Sukuram Champia’s family in the courtyard between our houses. From left to right, Bisu, Sukuram, Bamiya, Selai, Valerie Yorke, Lal, Pelon holding Besera, Basu, Michael Yorke, and Salome Herenz, our Munda interpreter .
With Sukuram Champia’s family in the courtyard between our houses. From left to right, Bisu, Sukuram, Bamiya, Selai, Valerie Yorke, Lal, Pelon holding Besera, Basu, Michael Yorke, and Salome Herenz, our Munda interpreter .
Val carrying a large and fragile earthenware pot of water back from the the river to our house.
Val carrying a large and fragile earthenware pot of water back from the the river to our house.
Val carrying a large and fragile earthenware pot of water back from the spring. This requires great skill, firstly to lift something so heavy onto one’s head, secondly not to spell it, and thirdly not to break the pot, especially when taking it down.
Val carrying a large and fragile earthenware pot of water back from the spring. This requires great skill, firstly to lift something so heavy onto one’s head, secondly not to spell it, and thirdly not to break the pot, especially when taking it down.
Val is doing the polite thing. She is offering her freshly made rice beer to Pelon, her neighbour.
Val is doing the polite thing. She is offering her freshly made rice beer to Pelon, her neighbour.
Both she and Pelon Champia, our next-door neighbour are amused as the local piglets eat the left-overs in our saucepan that awaits being washed in their courtyard.
Both she and Pelon Champia, our next-door neighbour are amused as the local piglets eat the left-overs in our saucepan that awaits being washed in their courtyard.
Val in conversation at the Chhotanagra weekly market, carrying our tape recorder. A villager from Dubil has spurs attached to his fighting cock’s ankles at the cock fighting ground.
Val in conversation at the Chhotanagra weekly market, carrying our tape recorder. A villager from Dubil has spurs attached to his fighting cock’s ankles at the cock fighting ground.
Walking down a side street with a crowd of fascinated girls following this strange in Chaibasa town.
Walking down a side street with a crowd of fascinated girls following this strange in Chaibasa town.
The street children fascinated bythis foreigners as she walks down a side street in Chaibasa town.
The street children fascinated bythis foreigners as she walks down a side street in Chaibasa town.
Drinking a cup of tea at our favourite café ‘chai dukaan’ in Chaibasa town.
Drinking a cup of tea at our favourite café ‘chai dukaan’ in Chaibasa town.
Talking to Dipu Taunk, our landlord’s son. Outside his father’s house in European Quarters in the regional capital town, Chaibasa.
Talking to Dipu Taunk, our landlord’s son. Outside his father’s house in European Quarters in the regional capital town, Chaibasa.
Walking along European Quarters in the regional capital town, Chaibasa on her way into town to do the shopping.
Walking along European Quarters in the regional capital town, Chaibasa on her way into town to do the shopping.
Admiring the rose outside own rented house in European Quarters in the regional capital town, Chaibasa.
Admiring the rose outside own rented house in European Quarters in the regional capital town, Chaibasa.
Buying bananas from our favourite fruit seller in Chaibasa. We discovered that he sold them to us at a highly reduced price since it was a great advertisement for him to be patronised by the foreigners in town.
Buying bananas from our favourite fruit seller in Chaibasa. We discovered that he sold them to us at a highly reduced price since it was a great advertisement for him to be patronised by the foreigners in town.
Having a laugh with our favourite banana seller in Chaibasa.
Having a laugh with our favourite banana seller in Chaibasa.
Chatting to Champia clan members. My Bolex camera stands watching them.
Chatting to Champia clan members. My Bolex camera stands watching them.

Valerie Yorke

Sixty photos of Valerie’s 18 months with the Ho. The tribals accepted Valerie with warmth and generosity, gradually sharing their knowledge. She gained access to the women’s world, focussing her research on their economic role through the seasons. The close relations she forged with women and children permitted her to capture in her many photos the tough challenges of daily survival, and their sense of community.  Valerie recorded the sound for Michael’s film, wrote several journalistic articles, prepared photos for a book on Ho children, and brewed traditional rice beer.

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