Fields of Gold

Wheat Fields


I’ve literally watched the wheat grow here in Nalanda and the surrounding areas. Each day as I walked to the cooperative building in Nepura, I passed the fields of green with the newly sprouted wheat. As the weeks passed, these stalks turned to a beautiful golden color. What I noticed even more than the visual impressions, was the sound emanating from the fields. The rustling of the stalks as a gentle breeze blew past and the electric buzzing noise from the insects among the stalks were some of the sounds that brought me pleasure every time I heard them. Here I was watching this staple of so many cultures grow.

One harvested field in Nalanda
 (new NNM building in the background)

A harvested field in Nepura

One day, I saw Rita Devi harvesting wheat. I asked if I could help and was told by someone else that the cut stalks were too sharp and I could cut my foot. I was told that I needed good shoes. I looked down at my feet and said that I had on good shoes. Then we looked at Rita Devi’s feet. She was barefooted!! Nonetheless, I wasn’t allowed to help do any harvesting that day.

Beautiful Nalanda woman

That same day as I was riding my bicycle back to the university, a Nalanda village woman who has in the past invited me to join in with the dancing at a wedding, waved to me from the field. I stopped my bicycle and went to say hello to her. Then I asked if I could cut the wheat. She let me hold the knife and cut the wheat. Unfortunately having no experience with this skill, I was very slow and awkward at harvesting. I watched the other women woman next to me quickly cut the stalks and laughed at my slow, “sawing” action as I tried to cut the stalks. I eventually caught on to the quick swipe of the blade to cut the stalks in one motion, but I never did reach the speed of the woman next to me. As I felt an asthma attack coming on from the freshly cut wheat, I stopped and took a few pictures and then rode back to my hostel.

On the main road to Nalanda, there is a brick building where the threshed wheat is ground. It looks like the flour is shot out of a plastic pipe in the side of the building to form a big mound of wheat outside next to the building. One day, I’ll observe the big mound, and the next it will be gone. I’m assuming that they’ve bagged the wheat.


Watching the wheat grow, I’ve also watched the wheat flour being made into my food. I’ve watched Sunil, Bimla Mehta, and Kiran Devi work the flour into dough to make chapatti, roti, paratha, or pure. It's wonderful to see where my food comes from and the process it takes from the ground to my mouth!