Nandini

Jeg havde denne film i hovedet i flere år. Idéen var opstået under arbejdet med Larger Than Life, min dokumentar om indisk filmkultur. Den ville ikke forsvinde, så der var ikke andet at gøre end at realisere den.

Jeg havde et voldsomt behov for at være fri. Jeg ville ikke igen have hele systemet - og dermed et tvangsægteskab med en producent, en masse papir, endnu et, til producentens fordel, elaboreret budget og en bunke diskussioner - ind over. Jeg betalte det hele selv, søgte Filmværkstedet som tog den ind.

Jeg har været så meget i Bombay, og selvom der er masser af køer i nogle bydele, ville jeg nu til en provinsby. Udaipur i Rajastan. Der kender jeg en fyr, Laxmi.
Jeg skulle nemlig bruge en hjælper. Jeg ville jo komme til at gå rundt med en ko hele dagen og hvad skulle jeg gøre når jeg f.eks. skulle tisse?! Toiletter ligger ikke lige for i Indien. Det kunne tage tid. Hvor ville koen gå hen imens? Jeg skulle ud og lede efter hende igen. Altså en hjælper… med en mobiltelefon. Det skulle løse problemet.
Laxmi selv er invalid og kan ikke gå, men han kender et hav af mennesker i byen, så… Du kan ta Prakash, sagde han, han har også forstand på køer, han kommer fra landsbyen. Prakash er Laxmis kok.
Sådan blev det. Prakash og jeg gik rundt sammen i en uge. Jeg forklarede ham at han skulle holde sig i halvcirklen bag mig, når jeg filmede. Og at han ikke måtte snakke imens. Det gik ikke helt som tænkt, men det gik, og han var godt og nyttigt selskab. Senere tog jeg nogle dage alene.

Jeg havde bare tænkt mig én ko. Det endte med fire. Guldhorn, Mor, Lady Di og Sko ko. Så forskellige fra hinanden, som vi andre er

Inderne er vanvittig nysgerrige og det er da kun i de smarteste kvarterer i storbyerne, at de ikke flipper ud ved synet af et kamera… og så en hvid dame med kamera!! Meget vanskeligt! De har ikke den mindste betænkning ved at slippe det, de er i gang med, stille sig lige ind foran linsen og så bare blive stående og stirre, evt. smile og vinke. Og der er børnene der konstant plager ved at stille sig ind foran, ofte drille.. og ved at bede om billeder hele tiden.
Så jeg kunne ikke bruge hovedtelefoner. Så lidt opmærksomhed som muligt. Men den var der alligevel… til skrigepunktet!

Af samme grund kunne jeg heller ikke bruge kameraets skærm. Straks stod der en flok som ville se med, snakkede løs og stillede spørgsmål. Umuligt. Altså søgeren only. Den er, på mit kamera, mindre end et frimærke og sort-hvid. Det var svært. Jeg kunne ikke se meget, havde svært ved at fokusere. Der sidder stadig uskarpe billeder i filmen.

jeg gik ofte rundt i vild trafik. Og der ligger overalt ting man ikke skal træde i og der er huller og ujævnheder. Alt skete. Jeg er blevet påkørt af scootere, har trådt i ko- hunde- elefant- kamel- æsel- og griselorte, har vredet om på foden, blevet stanget indtil flere gange, dels af fremmede køer, dels af 2 af mine egne hovedpersoner, Mor og Sko Ko. Desuden havde jeg konstant ondt i nakken af den umulige stilling med at kigge i søgeren.

Det var en temmelig vild tur.

 

   

I had this film in my head for several years. The idea came during the work I did on Larger Than Life, my documentary on Indian Film Culture. It wouldn’t go away, so there was no other way but to go and do it.

I had a burning need to be free. I did not want the whole system – and thereby a forced marriage with a producer, a lot of papers, yet again, to the producers advantage, an elaborated budget, and a lot of discussions – on my neck. I therefore paid the whole thing myself, and The Film Workshop took it in.

I had been in Bombay a lot with Larger Than Life, and even though there are lots of cows in some parts of the city, I now wanted to go to a provincial town. Udaipur in Rajasthan. There I know a guy, Laxmi.
I would need a helper. I would have to walk around with a cow all day and what would I do when I for example needed to pee?! Toilets in India are not right at hand. It could take time. Where would the cow go meanwhile? I would have to go and search for her again. Therefore a helper… with a mobile
phone. That should solve the problem.
Laxmi himself is disabled and can’t walk. But he knows a lot of people in the town, so… You can take Prakash, he said, he also knows about cows, he is from the village. Prakash is Laxmis cook.
So it became. Prakash and I walked around for some days. I
explained to him that he should stay in the half circle behind me and should not speak, whilst I was shooting. It didn’t work out completely as thought, but it worked, and he was good company. Later I took some days on my own.

I had though of just one cow. It ended with four. Gold horn, Mother, Lady Di and Shoe Cow. As different from each other as we are.
 I didn’t use headphones to avoid as much attention as possible. But it was there anyway… to the point of screaming!

Indians are extremely curious and it is only in the most fancy areas of the big cities, that they don’t freak our by the sight of a camera… and then a white lady with a camera! Very difficult! They happily let go of whatever they are busy with, place themselves right in front of the lens and keep standing and starring, possibly smiling and waving. And then there are the children who constantly pester by positioning themselves right in front, often teasing… and by asking for photos all the time.

Therefore I couldn’t have the screen open either. Immediately there would be a crowd wanting to look, talking away and asking questions. Impossible. So, the viewfinder only. It is, on my camera, smaller than a stamp and black-white. It was difficult. I couldn’t see much, had a hard time focusing. There are still many blurred pictures in the film.

Humans have spoiled lots of otherwise good material here.

I was often walking around in crazy traffic. There are things lying in the street you should not step in, there are potholes and irregularities. Everything happened. I have been run over, stepped in cow- and dog shit, twisted my foot, been butted several times, partly by unknown cows, partly by 2 of my leads, Mother and Shoe Cow. Besides this I had constant pains in my neck from bad positioning looking into the viewfinder.

It was a pretty wild trip.