Christmas in Kolkata

has certainly been different but I have to say has been one of the most special that I have had in a long tim.e

On Christmas Eve morning we slept in and then had pancakes at about 11am. We then played a game of scrabble (I have become quite addicted to that game) and then prepared to go out for at late lunch. We headed out to a place called "The Bistro" which felt like it should have been in Europe somewhere instead of India. We were the only diners at the restaurant and were treated like royalty. When we placed our order we were given suggestions by the owner as to what we might like to try instead. Mum and I loved this aspect of it but I don't think that dad was quite so keen. We were waited on hand and foot during the meal and the food was delicious.

We then took an autorickshaw and did some grocery shopping and then headed to meet the girls for a Christmas Eve service at the local Bengali church. This was incredible. I've been to quite a few Christmas Eve services in my time but this one was the most unsual. We were presented with songs and dances and skits and a message - all given entirely in Bengali. Thankfully I was able to pick up most of what they were saying. The members of the congregation chatted the whole way through and there was lots of coming and going - but this is the Bengali way and it seemed to work - to say that it was a quiet service would be like saying that England is going to win the World Cup again next year...

We then walked home and had an evening of playing scrabble, drinking some nice wine that I had brought over from England (thankfully it made it here in one piece) and then watched Memoirs of a Geisha (a most amazing film and one I would highly recommend). We crashed about 1.30am after a really special day.

Christmas Day involved an early start. We were meeting about 15 expats from NZ for breakfast at a local hotel. They serve an incredible smorgasbord with western foods. We were there for three hours but it was well worth it. The three of us then walked around the shops, had some coffee and headed home for a nap.

Christmas Night was absolutely incredible and I don't think that I will ever have a repeat of it. The girls from the business wanted to give me a farewell party and so decided to have it on Christmas Day. The brought their Indian CDs and were all dressed up. They arrived and put the music on and made me dance - BY MYSELF. It was a very humbling experience - I didn't realise how difficult it was to dance to music when you had no idea what the words were. The girls then joined in and we danced for about two hours - I was exhausted by the end of the evening. I treated them to samosas and ice cream and I think a good time was had by all.

I'm really going to miss them.

I hope you all had a great Christmas with friends and family.

Yesterday Dad and I went took a trip into town and visited the Marble Palace. This is one of Kolkata's main landmarks. It's incredible, and part of it is still lived in. Contained within the palace is a painting by Ruebens, quite impressive. The grounds are vast and contain a bird sanctuary and a rockpool and bush walks - I had to keep reminding myself that I was in the middle of India.

We then ventured into the legal district. I visited the High Court and saw where the Notarys reside. They have little huts outside the court and they type on really old fashioned typewriters (a far cry from the modern computers) and some of them actually sleep in their offices. The legal documents are typed right outside the court room and are done at the time of the trial or session - I'm not sure I could handle that sort of pressure.

My time in India has come to an end and I fly to Singapore tonight. It's going to be tough saying goodbye, particularly to mum and dad but I've had an amazing time and will never forget it.

I will write more from New Zealand...

My office Christmas party this year

was vastly different from ones I have been to in the past. For one thing it was 26 degrees, it took place on a Saturday night and English was not the predominant language.

On Saturday last week we had the Christmas party for the business that mum and dad run. At about 5pm in the evening the 15 staff (and their children) arrived on our doorstep. They looked amazing dressed in the finest sarees and other traditional dress. I thought I had made a special effort when I wore a skirt but I felt majorly underdressed.
The evening started with gift giving. I was given a rather interesting doll. I'm still trying to figure out the best place for it.

During the evening we had games and singing and dancing. One particular game involved breaking into three groups and singing songs. The first group would sing and then the next group had to start their song with the last letter of the previous group's song. This went on for an hour (all in Bengali). Mum, Dad and I and another girl from NZ tried to think up some English songs but we were soon out of the game as we couldn't compete.

We also had a quiz relating to the Christmas story. It was neat to see the children and the parents getting involved together through acting, drawing and singing. The classic was when we asked them where Jesus was born. The most common response was Rome...

During the festivities we had a power cut which last for an hour. Sort of enabled us to have an impromptu carols by candlelight...

Once the lights had come on we moved on to dinner. The fare was not your typical mince pies, turkey, lamb or potatoes but included: vegetable manchurian, vegetable pakoras, chow mein and chilly chicken (with the emphasis on chilly).

So that was the office party. ..quite different to the five star hotel variety but a lot less messy....

A day in Kolkata

I thought I would take you through a day in the city of joy.

You wake up at 7:30am to the sound of people selling things from the street as they walk past the house. The milk boy rings the doorbell at 8.30am and the rubbish truck with its loud siren comes past at about 9am. This city is certainly not quiet.

Then say for instance you needed to pick up some buttons (that you have ordered) and some thread. You would have a quick sandwhich lunch and make your way into the village which is starting to shut down as it is the Bengali seista betwee 2pm and 5pm.

You go to the rickshaw stand and ask to be taken to the metro. The journey involves multiple judder bars, potholes and various other uneven surfaces. Over here might is right so more often than not the rickshaw will be squeezed out of the way by a taxi or another car.

10 minutes later you arrive at the metro. Hopefully your journey goes a lot more smoothly than the one I experienced today...

Dad and I arrived at the metro in good time, I got our tickets (using my very limited Bengali) and we then ran down the stairs as the train was approaching. I was feeling very confident and had just finished saying to myself that this was easy, when it all turned pear shaped.

Dad managed to get on to the train, unfortunately as I stepped on the doors closed. My arm got jammed in the door and as a result once opened again I took a step back to clear it. When the doors opened again dad went to jump off and managed to get his head stuck in the door (thankfully there was no damage done). The train then left, dad was on it, unfortunately I was still on the platform. I wasn't sure if dad was going to get off the train at the next stop and then come back to me. I waited for about 10 minutes and saw no sign of him. I then decided to get a train to the next stop in case dad was waiting for me there. He wasn't. I then went back to the original stop and also saw no sign of him. The other factor to all of this was that I held the tickets. After another 10 minutes I decided to go to the destination that we had been planning to go to all along. I arrived there 20 minutes later but couldn't see dad. It turns out that he was at the other end of the platform and was on the phone to mum asking her to go down to our metro station and see if I was there. Thankfully we saw each other in the distance so it was all fine. If I had been a few minutes later dad was going to get on the metro and go back to the original spot. It was an interesting journey.

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Upon leaving the metro your first stop is the dab man. Dabi s a drink that comes straight from the coconut before it becomes the white milk. You drink straight from the coconut. It is a really good drink for hydration and is packed with wonderful vitamins and minerals.

You then walk for about 15 minutes until you come to the corner of MG Road and Borro Bazzaar. At this point you jump on a bus (quite literally as the bus keeps moving as you get on). You then wait as the bus makes its way up the busiest road that I have ever seen. It's packed with shops, stalls, rickshaw pullers, people washing themselves, men carrying huge barrels etc on their heads. Upon arrival at the main market you jump of the moving bus (being careful to ensure that you do not get hit by a car that is overtaking the bus).

Upon arrival at the button place you count and check the quality and numbe of the buttons while people push and shove past you. The store is not large.

You leave this store and make your way to the thread seller. He takes your order and you wait for about 30 minutes while his man goes to the "go down" (a storage area down the road). You are usually offered a cup of cha to help with the wait. It's fascinating to watch the goings on of the market place as you sit there. It's definitely a man's domain and I saw very few women.
You then head to the little store that sells Limka (there are generally hundreds of them around). Limka is very similar to Lilt. You have to drink it there and then as you have to give the bottles back to the seller. I can now drink very quickly.




You then pick your way through people, dead rats, men carrying huge packages on their heads and also crazy bus drivers and rickshaws. You eventually makit back to the bus stop and head back to the metro. It is now probably approaching rush hour so you won't get a seat on the metro. More often than not your feet will be stood on and you will be shoved several times. You finally reach the rickshaw stand and are almost home. This has probably taken you three hours and you probably feel as though you have run several kilometres in a steam room.


Once you are off the rickshaw you order six singras (simosas) from the man who knows you really well as you are a regular there. You go to the greengrocers (see attached picture) and purchase the evening's vegetables and fruit.

As you are walking back to the house you are suddenly plunged into darkness. It's the standard night time load shedding. You stumble home and wait about 30 minutes for the power to come on, in the mean time being attacked by mosquitoes whose approach you can't see.

You have dinner, watch a DVD and play scrabble and then head for sleep. Usually about 1am you are awoken by a loud whistle andthe tapping of a stick. This is the neighbourhood guard who makes all of this noise for your protection.

So that's a typical day. Please remember that you will only get the true experience if you imagine constant horn blowing and yelling throughout...

In my next blog I will describe my office Christmas party for this year....

Humble dwellings

My stay in India has not been typical of a tourist. During my time I have been able to really get to know the locals and experience a bit of how they run their day-to-day lives. About 4 weeks ago I had lunch at the home of one of the girls who work with mum and dad. This was incredible. The home is the sie of an average western loung. The kitchen is outside and consists of a clay oven (pretty similar to a BBQ). On average about 12 people live in the house and the conditions are very cramped. It is common practice for the guest to sit on the main bed and eat the meal while the hosts talk to you. The host family does not eat with you but will eat once you have left. I will never complain if I have to stay in a house that has a small kitchen or living area.

On Thursday night we were invited out to have dinner in one of the slum houses beside the railway station. Our family are great friends with the head of the family. He is a driver for a local business man and so often will pick friends and family (including me) up from the airport for mum and dad. He is a lovely guy and his wife and little 1 year old are really lovely too. We were met at the start of the community and escorted down the little alleyways and were greeted by all the neighbours. Upon arrival at the house (a one bedroom place) we were made comfortable on the bed (all of the kitchen stuff is kept under the bed) and the food is prepared on the floor and on a small stove on a side counter. We were served chai (which I am becomming addicted to) and then the nicest thing I have ever tasted - Luchi.

Luchi s a torilla type food which is lightly fried in oil so that if forms into a balloon shaped pastry. It is heavenly. I think I ate about 7 of them (it would have been rude to turn them down). The luchis are served with a potato curry. We ate quite early but I was still full by the next morning.

The evening ended with another cup of chai. Unforgettable.

When I get back to London I am going to try and find out how to make them or find someone who knows how...

Well the Christmas party is on tonight so I'd better go and help prepare...

Running for the train

now has a whole lot of meaning for me. On Monday morning I set off first thing (7am) and headed into the city to meet up with some friends from New Zealand in order to travel to see the place where William Carey set up his work. We caught a cab to Howrah station. This station is the largest and busiest in Calcutta. I am used to busy train stations in London but I was not prepared for this. I have heard people describe "a sea of people" and this is definitely what I saw. It was like a raging river and we had to cut across the centre of it. Quite a daunting feet.

We made it on to the train and made the half hour journey to Sirampore. The area is idyllic and very peaceful. Quite a haven from the busy streets of Kolkata. We caught a rickshaw to the college that Carey set up about 150 years ago and did a tour of the campus. I will never again complain about the lack of resources that I thought we had at University. The books available to these students would not fit into a quarter of the space of the library at the university I went to.

A group of military students were having a class on the front steps of the college and as soon as we walked in the jumped up and started asking us lots and lots of questions. I'm getting used to being approached and treated like a long lost friend. It's going to be quite strange to go back to London and walk down the street with no one noticing.

We then walked along the river and then had a beautiful lunch at a rooftop restaurant. The food was worth the two hour wait.

We headed back to the train station and prepared for the arrival of the train to Kolkata. The train arrived, we let the people off, four of our group got on, we waited for some others to move out of the way, the train started moving, we started running, the train got faster, we missed it.
We had no way of getting in contact with the others and to make matters worse we didn't have tickets.

The next train came 20 minutes later and we linked arms to form a chain and the five of us all managed to barge our way on. Now it was just a case of finding the others at the other end.

We arrived at Howrah and as soon as we were off the train we were swept along by another sea of people. It was the scariest situation that I had been in. If I had stopped I would have been trampled so I had to cope with the clostrophobic feeling and allow myself to be pushed along. I was very relieved when I saw the man with our tickets and were reunited with the group.

I was very thankful when when we left the station and boarded the boat that would take us across the river to home.

I learnt an interesting fact while on the boat. At one point some "clever" Australian businessmen decided that they didn't like the Indian slow boats and would prefer a speed boat to get across the river. The launched the boat and a few months later were bankrupt. The locals were not prepared to pay more than 5 rupees being charged by the slow boat. The speed boat sits there rusting away completely unused....

Did you know that I have never been to Australia but I have been very close to the Sydney opera house. How can that be? You may ask. Well please see the picture below.




According to an article that I read in the main Calcutta paper this building got it's design and is based on the Sydney Opera House. You may think that they did this because they are big fans of Australia and want to copy their great national icon.

However, I'm not sure this is the case. From what I hear they would rather have a different cricket coach to the one they have now (now for the life of me I can't remember his nationality...).



Some of you may have figured out what this building actually is but for those of you who haven't the answer is in the next photo. Read the sign carefully.


That's right it's a public toilet.

A little boy's smile

Well I'm now 90% better. I never want to have a bug like that again. I think I have lost a few pounds and caught up on every hour of sleep that I have missed this year. Even though I was sick this week I managed to do something which brought a tear to my eye.

I have been sponsorsing a child through Compassion UK for the past four years. On Wednesday of this week I was picked up by the Compassion workers and driven 3 hours west to a little village called Mawa which is in the district of Midnapur. The thought of a 3 hour car ride and stopping to eat and using an Indian squatting toilet (considering the bug that I had) did not appeal. Thankfully when we got to the Indian equivalent of a truck stop I discovered that the place had a western toilet!! The potato stuffed naan that we had was delicious also.

We arrived at the Project just before 11am. They had planned to greet us at the gate but we arrived early and caught them unawares. We walked into the very open plan complex and I was asked to sit down. I tried to find Milan (the boy that I sponsor) in the sea of faces but with no success. Then suddenly a lady was introducing me to him. He gave me the biggest smile and presented me with flowers and then sat next to me. I almost started crying. The pictures that I have of him that were sent to me by the organisation are all of him frowning. I soon discovered that he has the cutest smile (his eyes really sparkle). He's such a cute little guy. I spoke to him through an interpreter about his school and family and of course cricket...

I was then asked to go and sit at a table at the front of the room. There was a big welcome sign for me and I was presented with more flowers and drawings from the children. They did a few dances and songs for me. I sat amongst the children and tried to join in with the group singing (and actions). Milan plays the tamborine and he was in his element performing.

I was then asked to come and speak. I told them the few Bengali words that I had learnt and also taught them the song "If you're happy and you know it". It was quite an experience. We then had a question and answer time. They asked how old I was and I responded with an answer that would have made a politician proud "Older than you".

It was then time for cricket. These people are certainly fond of this game. At least 100 kids joined in the game. I think I was bowled (Milan was wicketkeeper and got me out first ball!!) or caught out at least 10 times in one over but was not allowed to stop batting. I did manage to get a few runs though. Milan was my supporting batsman. I think the children (particularly the older ones) were told to make sure that Milan was the centre of attention and proceedings. It was nice that he could be spoiled for the day. They all wish that India had a NZ coach still instead of an Australian one...

We then jumped in the jeep and headed to his house. His house is a three room mud hut that houses 6 people, one goat, one rooster and one cow. It was humbling to go there. There were holes in the roof where the rain came through the corrogated iron. I did see little things that that they had that my contributions had helped to provide. I met Milan's parents. His father is a rickshaw puller and his mother a tea garden worker. They are a lovely family and made me feel very welcome. They even rented chairs that I could use while I was there and both took the day off work so that they could meet me. I kept thinking that I have soo much in the west and yet I often complain. These people seemed really happy and content with little that they had.

We then headed back to the school for lunch. I ate the Indian way with my right hand (this took some doing as I'm left handed). Eating with your left hand is a no no as they do other things with that hand.... It was nice to sit around the table with Milan and his family and the staff from the Project.

This was followed by another game of cricket and then I had to say goodbye to Milan. It was tough leaving. However I will never forget that smile.

I used to struggle with writing to him as I never knew what to say. I now feel as though I now him a little more.

On the way home in the car we unfortunately hit a cow (it almost came through the front window). This is not a good thing in India as cows are very very sacred. Thankfully the cow was fine and the car (although a little buckled in the bonnet) was fine too. However we didn't stop to check the damage until we were well away from the owner of the cow (safety first).

It was a super day and I'm soo pleased that I didn't cancel as a result of illness (considering the lengths they had gone to to prepare for my coming). If any of you get the chance to visit a child that you sponsor I would thoroughly recommend it.

Tomorrow it's off to Sirampur (of William Carey fame).

A word from the editor

Many apologies for the absence of entries lately. I have unfortunately caught a bug which has caused me to be out of action for the past four days. Hopefully tomorrow I will feel up to typing more than a few sentences.

Thanks for your patience...