Delhi Darling

Last week I returned once again to Delhi for a week. I must admit I was not particularly keen on returning to Delhi as I had decided I really did not like it very much from my previous visit, however I was pleasantly surprised by the city. It was good to return to dispel my incorrect thoughts about the place, sure it is noisy and polluted and busy however that is pretty much India all over. I came to realise it wasn’t Delhi I hated, it was the feelings I associated with it… blind panic and wondering what the hell I had done come to mind. As Delhi was the first place I landed in in India I don’t think I properly took into account just how panic struck I was and I had associated that with Delhi. I am pleased to report I have managed to dispel those thoughts and it was rewarding going back there after nearly a year in India.

I was in Delhi for the 30^th Birthday of my friend Katie and her friends were had come over from the UK and they had brought WINE! It tasted pretty good after nearly a year’s abstinence from it that is for sure. So I asked where we would be going and Katie’s response was… a karaoke bar. Call me an old bag but my first thought was ‘oh god no’ but the wine helped in thinking actually it was a bloody good idea and off we went.

I have come to realise that there are many differences between the UK and India but one of the most startling I can reveal is that… the karaoke was good! Now yes I did have my beer ears* on at the time but seriously I genuinely thought the whole point of karaoke was that it was bad. Stood with a white knuckle grip onto a microphone screeching away tunelessly whilst your friends roll around in mirth at the death of your dignity, that to me is karaoke. I can remember renditions of Silent Whisper in our local pub that was actually painful, now I think about it that is a really sad story of a misspent youth, at least other people get good at pool or something I just subjected my ears to pain. I can assure you I did not sing, I just drank a lot instead and had lots of fun.

The other thing about birthdays in India is an apparent tradition to have cake smeared on your face or ‘to be caked’. I came to realise that Evelyn and I had gotten off lightly when we had some frosting delicately smeared on our face, however when Katie came into the office she had the full cake smushing** into her face experience and it was chocolate cake! (Damn waste in my opinion) She was very good about it though and even posed for photos.

I sadly managed to get a not terribly nice auto driver whilst I was there who demanded on holding my hand and then kissed it, no not a dry kiss I mean a ‘oh look you seem to have dribbled all over my hand’ type of kiss. ‘What’s the harm?’ you ask. Well a) someone looking at you in the back of their vehicle whilst they are driving is slightly disconcerting and b) any physical contact is frowned upon, so I ended up holding my hands up next to my ears so he could not grab them! He also asked me my marital status… again totally out of order. So I lied. Not only has India seen me married I am now a serial fictional bigamist. I can honestly say that I was very grateful when we saw some police and he started laughing nervously as I did have a sinking ‘this could go a little bit wrong’ type of feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Apart from one unpleasant auto driver though, I had an amazing week. I thoroughly enjoyed the work I was doing, having some semblance of a social life was refreshing and very welcome and the junk food was sublime!

* Beer ears - similar to beer goggles but involves the hearing sense. Side effects include: thinking you sound really funny/witty, thinking that ridiculous idea is the best idea you have heard in a long time and you must do it immediately even if you can't stand up properly and thinking the person talking to you is a genius when in fact, they are not.

** I couldn’t think of an appropriate word as it is not as hard as being smashed in the face with cake more of a splat and rub type of action so I thought smushing was good descriptor word which I made up. 

A little bit ridiculous - part 2

Varanasi – apparently one of the oldest continually habited cities in the world. It is amazing and I, personally, loved it, despite the few hiccups I had along the way.

On my first day in Varanasi I realised I was running short of cash so I headed to the hotel to check in and got ready. I managed to make it through the maze of back allies in the old part of town to find the main road in Varanasi to try and find a cash point. Bearing in mind I had spoken to my bank the day before and they assured me my card would work (I think you know where this is heading).

So I headed out and the first cash point was out of order, the second and third cash points were out of order, I had 110 rupees left to my name and I NEEDED cash! So I carried on walking up the main road to what I hoped was a working cash point as I cannot deny I was a little concerned about my cash situation. I carried on walking up the road when a cycle rickshaw hit the back of my leg, ran over my foot and broke my sandal, rather than saying sorry he cheerfully said he could take me to a shoe shop – he was very close to having a broken shoe shoved up his nose at that point but I had to carry on as at that point I could not even afford shoes so I carried on walking up the road with no shoes. One thing I will say about Varanasi is that the roads are actually pretty rubbish and very sharp! I was left hobbling up the road with one odd coloured toe and blood trickling down the side of my foot but I walked up and found an actual working cash point… and my card did not work. I didn’t even have enough credit to call the bank as I had called them the day before. So I was looking a little bit lost when a journalist spotted me and told me to hop on his bike and he would take me to another cash point and give me a lift back. I considered it for a whole second and hopped on. Taking a moment to consider this I have done really well in not getting on the back of motor cycles in India, actually I had only been on 1 before that with a helmet so me going on the back of a stranger’s bike without one was, well, pretty fucking stupid! Anyway I managed to survive it and he dropped me outside his office, told me where the cash point was and that I could have a chai and wait for him and he would take me back to the ghat I was staying near.

I went to the next cash point and… it was broken! The nice engineers allowed me to sit down and then offered me their shoes to go and find a working cash point and then I rang my sister in a babbling ‘I have no cash or shoes’ kind of state. I then decided to try an actual bank and the nice engineers did some bartering with a rickshaw driver and put me into a rickshaw. So I arrived at the bank looking a little worse for wear, no shoes etc. and I was told I couldn’t get money out unless I had a bank card with that particular bank, I then decided to go back to the hotel to try and sort it from there and put my spare of shoes on (thank god I am anal sometimes!) when the rickshaw driver decided he had a rubbish day too and was trying to charge me well over 3 times the actual price. It was at the time I decided to be a complete and utter girl and I cried! Oh yes I sat down and cried like the massive wimp I am. So I was rescued again. I think women crying scares men a little bit, so I hopped on the next motorbike… I know, I know. It’s alright though as he had a helmet (I have never understood the logic of just the driver having a helmet). This nice gentleman took me to ANOTHER cash point which actually did work but my card definitely didn’t. The nice man took me back to the hotel and I spoke to my sister (thanks Darling you are a life saver) I also spoke to my bank and I actually said to the rather terrified Jamie…’if my card doesn’t work I will fly back to the UK, rip your arm off and beat you over the head with the soggy end.’ Thinking about it I surprised my card did actually work after that. It was then I realised I had not eaten for 24 hours which could have also made me a wee bit cranky.

Luckily the good news in this story was that I still managed to find some amazing people who were very sweet in rescuing a damsel in distress so thank you so much to you all.

I eventually managed to get some cash and the rest of Varanasi was amazing, truly brilliant. I was very lucky in meeting some more brilliant people and laughed until my sides hurt. I enjoyed getting lost in the small allies of the old city, exploring and finding the happiest Priest I have ever met (I got to sign my second autograph!), seeing the Durga-puja festival, going to the burning ghats (but that is another tale in itself), watching the sun rise over the ganga, Saranath temple and sitting watching the deities float past down the river. All in all it was not terribly relaxing but good fun all the same.

Happy Diwali – Health and Safety Hell

Diwali is a wonderful celebration and one I really enjoyed.  I enjoyed walking around the town and seeing all of the coloured lights, candles and lamps. Although I now realise that Diwali is also a lot like one long intro scene from Casualty (for all of those outside the United Kingdom it was or shall I say still is a fictional drama series set in an Accident and Emergency department of a hospital, cheerful it is not!)

Some of the things I saw whilst going around the town were:

·         Children as young as 1 with sparklers, OK so their parents were holding them with them but they definitely didn’t have gloves on OR a bucket of water to put them in when they had finished.

·         Children as young as 4 setting of fireworks in the street with sparklers, they also had on some rather flammable looking attire.

·         Rockets being let off around very built up areas, including about a foot away from my window!

·         Shop keepers with fireworks in cardboard boxes with candles all around them.

·         Shop keepers with candles attached to rather large wooden tables with fireworks displayed on them.

·         Fireworks and fire crackers being let off in the middle of the street. I was on a rickshaw as a small (thank goodness) roman candle was let off and my seat was directly over the top of it by the time it went off, too much squealing and waving of arms (from me). The rickshaw driver just turned around, tutted at me and shook his head. Sorry for making a scene but you know fiery colourful stuff was dangerously close to my bottom!

I could not take photos as both of my camera batteries have now died (collective sigh of relief as you do not have to look at my shoddy photography anymore)

I can honestly say I am a fireworks wimp and even the small and sweet fireworks I was running away from. I guess I took the health and safety messages to heart and they have been rather effectively drilled into me from the years of Bonfire Night warnings. That aside I did not see throngs of people with missing limbs/burns which means they are either really lucky or celebrating Diwali does work after all!

A little bit ridiculous - part 1

As you may or may not know I went on holiday to Agra to go and see the Taj Mahal and Varanasi for a week during Durga- puja (the Durga festival). My holiday was what can only be described as a little ridiculous, starting with a whole 28 hours in Agra.

So I arrive in Agra after a 24 ½ hour train ride from Jasidih into Agra. Many of the guide books echo the same message… get in, see the Taj, Baby Taj etc. and get out. Never a truer word was written. Agra is HARD work, from the touts, pollution and in my case, a lack of sleep. I checked into the hotel which I did previously check online and I was shown to my ‘air conditioned’ room and quickly shown up to the roof top restaurant which had an amazing view of the Taj Mahal, I could not deny that.

I enjoyed the view and had a drink and went down to the room. I had read about this hotel doing this to other tourists but I really had not looked at the room before I had been whisked back out and sadly there was no big white box blowing cold air out so I went downstairs and declared my air conditioning had been ‘stolen’. They looked sheepish and refunded me the difference for the room and I went back upstairs to get ready to go and get some food. Sorry to say this, well I’m not actually, I went to Pizza Hut and Costa coffee. When I later spoke to my mum and sister I think they were a little concerned as I did sound like I could and probably would be, doing the wall of death around my hotel room thanks to some junk food and proper coffee. Oh yes, I actually sat in the back of an auto drinking a Costa iced latte, I cringe now even thinking about it.

I was lying in bed at midnight and I could not get to sleep, I felt very uncomfortable and itchy so I lay there watching television until about 3 a.m. when I decided enough was enough and I flicked on the light to discover I was not alone, sadly this time it wasn’t a gecko but bed bugs, a whole colony of bed bugs. Nice! So I went downstairs to go and complain and resisted the urge to kick the night guard awake and complained, they did offer to change the sheets (like that would make a difference) but I just told them not to bother as I was getting up at 5 a.m. anyway. I did leave with the warning shot that I would see the manager later…

I watched the sunrise over the Taj Mahal and then went to see it; it is stunning. Even after 20 hours of no sleep it is amazing to go and see it. It was beautiful, breath taking in fact.



Sunrise over the Taj Mahal

I had spoken to a tourist the previous night who had said I could walk between the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort so that is what I had decided to do. Unfortunately I had managed to break a pair of sandals when walking around so managed to find a nearby shoe shop (you have to love India) bought another pair and went on my merry way.

Sadly on being spotted on the quietest road in India a gentlemen decided to sexually relieve himself in front of me (for those in the UK he was having a tommy tank!) I mean really is that kind of thing necessary – it was 8:30 in the morning! He also did not think out his plan very well as I just crossed the road when I realised what he was doing and he was pretty much stuck where he was, I may have been tired but even I could foil that wily plan (no not willy plan, wily!)

So I went to Agra Fort and found… a sceptical dog. I could post many photos but this is one of my favourites.

My memories of the fort are a little sketchy, well my thinking power was reduced to very little apart from ‘gosh this is big’, then ‘wow this place really is massive’, followed by ‘will this place never end!’ After dragging myself around Agra Fort I headed back to the hotel to go and shout at the manager, which I did and managed to get a room for the afternoon and a refund. Sadly it was not how I planned to spend my afternoon but at least I got some rest before going to Varanasi, turns out I would need it…

I am being bullied

By a cow, this cow to be exact:

The problem being that she lies outside the gate/door I use to get into the flat. When I walk up to get into the flat she stands up and head butts me! I am not sure if this is a friendly gesture (I don’t think it is personally) but considering she only has tiny horns and looks rather sickly this is surprisingly painful!

Last time I tried to get into the flat she head butted me and as our front yard is now an animal sanctuary cum builders yard I nearly fell into a pile of scaffolding with rusty nails protruding from it. Understandably I don’t want to annoy her with the possibility of rusty nails and the embarrassment of being beaten up by a cow with teeny tiny horns is just too much.  

I think if it came down to it and I gave her a gentle tap with my foot (aka kicked her) I would be chased out of town as she knows full well if it came down to me or her the towns folk would side with the cow.

Any useful suggestions on how to get rid of an ailing cow with a chip on its shoulder would be appreciated.

A little bit too much…

Staring, being talked about, someone talking to you so they can practice their English, all standard stuff around here and, on the most part, it doesn’t bother me… until it does!

The Sunday before Independence Day Evelyn and I went to Tower Chowk to pick up our saree blouses from the tailor. The monsoon fair was coming to a close that weekend so the market was very crowded, but along the way I managed to pick a stranger up and the usual introductions were made. Where I was from, where he was from, what we are doing here etc. We then stopped in front of the tailors to say goodbye (or so we thought) and he offered to come in with us, which was fine. He then viewed Evelyn in her blouse and I told him to hop off (which he ignored). We gave the blouses back to the tailor to make them just a touch bigger so we could actually breath and decided to go down to Big Bizarre as the sales were on and our little friend followed us! I tried quite forcefully and politely to shake him off declaring we could find our way to and around the super market. Luckily it started to rain then, so we ermm, ran… oh yes we ran away from an 18 year boy!

We made it to Big Bizarre and the crazy sales – imagine a small supermarket stacked up to the hilt with goods, with far too many people around and staff with mega phones shouting at you from the moment you step in, to the moment you step out of the market… relaxing it is not! So I stood outside waiting for Evelyn and I caught a group of men sitting just around the corner from me. One caught sight of me and they assessed me for a while and obviously decided I wasn’t a) albino or b) had vitiligo so they then decided I was fair game to stand around 6 to 10 feet in front of me and stand either opened mouthed or talk about me. I have to say this is a little unnerving. So then I ran out… again!

Blissful in our ignorance Evelyn and I strolled back to the market only to be found by the 18 year old again! I am not joking it is a busy place and although I stick out like a sore thumb I am still not 100% sure how he found us again.

Then came the gifts. Now to get something straight before I start I am allergic to a lot of washing powder and soaps out here, now I have that straight I will proceed. The nice 18 year old had gotten Evelyn and I gifts, of hand wash and tissues Fair enough they were in a presentation pack but really, hand wash?! Anyway the nice boy was thrusting said gifts upon us and I must admit alarm bells rang so I declined his kind gifts as I am, after all, allergic. He also tried the same tact with Evelyn. So we were chased, and I mean chased up the market back to the tailors. At one point I asked Evelyn if this guy was Robocop, well a small gift giving Robocop but still, you get the picture. He also tried to give me a torch and Evelyn some keys (not sure what to, could have been his heart). One gentleman even pulled him to one side as we did look a bit stressed and told him to leave us alone. He followed us back to the tailors and after refusing all the gifts he tried to give me his shopping bag… with the excuse that my shopping bag didn’t reflect my personality! I didn’t realise I had to carry shopping bags to reflect me and anyway my bag is boring and white, a perfect reflection I think.

At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful mare I didn’t want to accept the gifts, just in case. You need to be able to judge a situation which I could have gotten very wrong, perhaps if I had of accepted the gift he would have left us alone, or, I could have unwittingly become his betrothed! Who knows, but I have had many pleasant conversations with people walking along the street and what I can say is that I am glad I was with Evelyn, in a crowded market and that my heart cannot be so easily won with hand wash and torches!

Passport photos

India is passport photo central. When I came out here I was advised to take a spare set of passport photos for reasons unknown. It soon became evident that passport  photos are placed on and used for all manner of things; CVs have them on, you need one to get a SIM card, an internet stick, 4 to register for your residency permit and 4 more to extend your visa, now that’s a lot of passport photos. In short I ran out them, well it was bound to happen eventually. So I popped into town to go and get some. They’re cheap here (well cheaper than 5 for £5!) which is a really good job, especially when you get lumbered with this…

Now I don’t take a good passport photo, I never have. From looking like I will eat your children to even more manic than that! However I have noticed that I have what can only be described as an extraordinarily large head in this one and I’m a funny colour (thanks to the nice man who decided to Photoshop it for me) Oh yes, this has had Photoshop treatment and everything! My colleague commented that I look 39 in this photo, all things considering I think that’s bordering on a compliment.

A touch tardy

Well this has been a long time coming! I have been very bad at keeping my blog up to date but I thought I would try and update you on what exciting things have been happening here.

I was in the paper… for giving blood. Not news worthy or so I thought until when a rather large needle was being inserted into my arm I looked away as I’m a little squeamish only to have the doctor physically turn my head so the cameras could see my face. Joy of joys there were a number of published photos of me looking rather warm whilst the nice man holding the needle in my arm was trying to get out of the photos, unfortunately a wiggling needle leaves a rather large bruise. I have been approached by a couple of people around the town saying they saw my photo in the paper. Apparently a foreigner giving blood is indeed worthy of the papers, or it could have been a slow news day!

Next week I was ill, to the point I had nearly convinced myself I had malaria. Luckily after a couple of tests it was discovered I do not have malaria or typhoid which is a relief. There are many things I would like to bring back from India but malaria is definitely not one of them.

Now on being rather poorly the last thing most people do is think ‘hmmm, I feel a bit better’ and go on a 6 hour car journey to Pakur and Sahibganj, but hey when in India. So off Tanmoy and I popped to Pakur. Tanmoy reliably informed me that these are two of the poorest Districts in India and I can well believe it. One of the first things someone said to me was that ‘life it tough here’ and it true. The infrastructure alone leaves much to be desired, some of the roads are DREADFUL and there are telegraph poles, minus the electric wires and one of the Primary Health Care centres we went to see does not even have regular running water (kind of essential for things like deliveries). It was however naturally beautiful as it is a jungle hilly area so at least it was nice to look out of the window whilst we were being shaken up in a 4 x 4. Sadly my camera battery died within the first two hours of leaving the office so I only managed to get a few shots, which are not great as you can see, in my defence they were taken from a moving vehicle.

The ill health Gods decided to smite me once again with a cold, which is slowly but surely going now. One tip – when someone says ‘EVERYONE is poorly during monsoon’ do not take it lightly!

Six Month Itch

I have been here for just over six months, you can tell as the blogging has slowly dwindled to almost nothing. However I went to Kolkata for the weekend so at least I have something more interesting to blog about!

Evelyn, Priyanka and I travelled to Kolkata on Wednesday night to arrive early on Thursday morning. Evelyn and I were discussing what we were planning to do and mine pretty much revolved around doing as much Western stuff as possible as I wanted to treat myself and to scratch the six month itch. Thursday started off for a trip to a couple of malls and we met up with Priti, it was lovely to meet up with her although I did feel a bit sorry for her being dragged around the shops and the dreadful lunch of KFC – well when in Kolkata!? I did manage to find proper cheese though for the bargain price of £15 for two blocks - note to self, check the price before you purchase!

We then went to meet with Priyanka’s family. I wish it was under happier circumstances as a close relative recently died but it was lovely to meet the family who were warm and welcoming. I hope to meet them again as they really are a wonderful group of people.

The rain which was a drizzle most of Thursday turned pretty torrential by Friday and Arko rang me to warn me that it wasn’t a terribly nice day and not to go out. However Evelyn and I had promised to meet up with one of our old colleagues so we braved it. I can’t help but think that Arko may have been correct but it was quite good fun paddling along Park Street (on the way to KFC - AGAIN!) The only time we did decide to turn back was on the way down to another mall as a school boy advised us not to go any further as there was an electric current, I may be stupid enough to brave a bit of rain but I am not messing with electricity.

 

Anadita paddling down Park Street

Evelyn and I jumped into a cab to go to the mall which was round the corner from the hotel. Now we had been paddling in water that was around ankle deep but we spilt up when we were in the mall and decided to go our separate ways. Unfortunately by the time I left the mall it was pretty dark so I then navigated my way up the street opposite which turned out to be knee deep. Two gentlemen were behind me who swiftly over took me only to stop directly in front and start weeing in the street. The old saying goes don’t s*** in your own back yard and I can’t help but think the same should be said for peeing in the street you are paddling down! So I crossed the road only to find a cockroach floating past. It was at this moment that I did stop and review the situation - unfortunately I was equidistant from the start and the end of the road so I decided to plough on with thoughts of falling over running through my head. I eventually made it back and tried not to think of the soup I had just been walking through. Obviously if I am going to grace Kolkata with my presence during monsoon season then it would mean that they are going to have the worst rains for a decade!

Luckily we woke up on Saturday to find most of it had drained away which was good. Arko rang me and asked if I fancied going to watch a band and have a couple of drinks – yeah I do! So we met up at 6 had a drink and headed to the venue. Please note Arko used to go to school there and couldn’t remember where it was but we got a little wet again and found the place eventually! The support act were interesting as were the actual band who apparently were runners up in India’s Got Talent. We managed to sit through one song before I started holding my head in my hands and we decided to leave. Now I don’t have a problem with some rap but when it’s not terribly good and the singer is using a faux American accent it does make it a little cringe worthy. There are plenty of Americans doing rap in American accents so I don’t think it’s going to set them apart on the International music scene. India has some amazing music so I think it’s a shame young bands are mimicking music that has already been done. That’s just my opinion on it though.

We then decided to go for a drink and we went to Someplace Else, which was amazing! One way to confuse stupid people such as myself is to serve water in a beer bottle – I tried it and decided it probably wasn’t quite right and passed it around and it swiftly got taken back to the bar. It is one way to ensure your clientele don’t get too drunk! I had a great time having a bit of a chair dance and then listened to some totally brilliant blues music – if you are in Kolkata on a Saturday you must go there.



Arko and I (just incase you forgot what I look like!)

On Sunday I decided to nip out and try and find some fresh coffee that I could take back to Deoghar. Sadly I got utterly drenched again but I did find a much quicker route to the hotel from the mall I was in. That said the realisation that I walked around the block on Friday, down the very flooded road, was not a welcome one. Thank you to Priyanka, Priti, Anadita and Arko. All in all another brilliant weekend in Kolkata filled with experiences and laughs and more than my fair share of getting drenched!

 

Angry little demons

What are angry little demons? Well, it is a condition to be exact. I was told by another volunteer in Delhi that this condition can take over in the peak of summer for many reasons, the main one being the heat - and boy is it hot! You cannot sleep, think or move, going outside where you think a nice breeze will help cool you doesn’t work as it feels a little bit like you are being blasted by a hairdryer and heaven forbid the wind is good enough to pick up a little of the dust as it feels like you are being sandblasted in a hot house. That is when the angry little demons start bubbling and unfortunately they do surface and when they do – woe betide the person/people that are around you.

This condition took effect last week and I was upset about everything. The fact that the spider had dared to come into my bathroom and make me afraid of going in there, the whole of Hindi language would not magically appear in my head, I had not had feedback for something, my shoes had broken, I miss everyone… the list goes on. My mum was the poor unfortunate person who got the brunt of her tear stained babbling daughter on the end of the phone line.

I then started on the ‘I am fine’, which as most people know in a woman means the opposite, until I actually am fine and then it means exactly what I say. The problem is distinguishing the difference. I am actually fine though – I just need to let off a little steam sometimes. I know I am going to get upset occasionally and it is probably more difficult for the people on the other end of the phone line rather than me as they feel helpless but the most important thing is that I pick myself up and do what I need to do to make me feel better and this usually involves biscuits!

I have been assured that the weather over the next couple of week s is only going to get hotter unless there is rain and the temperature then drops a little – I have now taken to doing rain dances on the roof every evening, hopefully that will keep the demons at bay.

Black eyed babes

One of the observations I have made is that women tend to put eyeliner… on their babies. I asked the reason for this and I was told that it is used to ward off the evil eye; they will also put large black dots on their baby’s forehead and sometimes temples.

I find this strange to say the least to see babies being carried around that have more eyeliner on than most wags could shake a stick at. The only problem is that this is supposed to ward of any eyes (just in case you are evil too) but it has completely the opposite effect on me. I stare as I see miniature member of Kiss being paraded past me and this invites some rather hostile stares from the mothers themselves.

So I guess this post really should be an apology to all mothers who put eyeliner on their babies, I don’t mean to stare I just cannot help it.

Fear and loathing in India

I now have a clear understanding of the difference between disliking something and fearing it. Cockroaches, for example, I dislike, they are big and for some reason I have taken a great dislike to the fact that they are shiny. They are usually discovered and some expletives are shared and then I use the wondrous stuff that is ‘Hit’ and they are flushed down the toilet. Mosquitos again are something I dislike, but I think you already know that.

Spiders however I fear. One of my poor ex-boyfriends can testify how much I hate and fear spiders after one ran out of my wellington boot at Glastonbury and I cried for an hour – well I was hung-over, cold and tired but I still do not think it is much of excuse. They bring me out in a sweat and I can feel my heart beat increase rapidly. I don’t even know why I fear them so much; I live in the UK where all spiders are pretty much harmless.

Then this turned up, well to be more accurate it ran from behind my toilet up the wall:

I can honestly say this is the biggest spider I have seen in the flesh that has not been in a cage. As I was sprinting out of the bathroom I very nearly broke my neck in the process as I slipped on the floor whilst shouting “Oh Fucking Hell!”

I dragged Evelyn to view it 30 seconds after she had woken up. She is far, far braver than I am as she nearly went to touch it but we both agreed it was huge. I am sorry to have to dispose of them but that said if the thing is bigger than my hand then we can’t live together. For one thing my nerves won’t take it and having spent the morning in work shuddering at the mere thought of it and having nearly induced a panic attack I couldn’t really stand next to it when showering.

At least I have managed to confirm that I really do have a fear of spiders and that ‘Hit’ actually works on most things!

Holiday

Last week I had a wonderful week off as my friend, Pete, came to see me.

We met up in the bustling Kolkata which still remains one of my favourite places in India for reasons unknown, I just feel very comfortable there. We had a great first night and started off as we actually didn’t mean to, but just happened to continue with, a lot of food. To digress a moment my brain being the absolute wit that it is still demands on thinking about food A LOT! I didn’t think I was that food orientated until I got here and now my life pretty much revolves around it. I was ill the week before coming away and the food issue rose its ugly head once again and I couldn’t stop thinking about sausages, so in order to try and stop thinking about food I then tried to think about friends and family and my thought trail lead to the food I have previously served or would serve again in the future to my friends and family. I am not joking my subconscious has a sick sense of humour.

We then took the 8 hour train journey down to beautiful Puri where we found an amazing hotel called Z, where we stayed for the week. The beach at Puri is a beautiful long beach of rolling waves and golden sand. There is only one slight problem with it though and that is the rubbish, either on the beach or being pumped into the sea which is a shame considering how beautiful the place is and how stunning it could be.

We also went to the sun temple in Konark which is beautiful, sadly it is disintegrating because of its proximity to the sea but it was a sight to behold and some of the carvings were rather interesting. I am rather glad I was not alive back then as one of the carvings depicted this:

Apparently, or so we were told, this was one of the ways to get rid of a sexually transmitted disease, I am not convinced personally.

Pete and I were asked to have our photographs taken with a couple of people and I was approached to have mine taken with a little girl. I am sure she probably did not say this but I could just image her asking her mum if she could have her photo taken with the giant white lady with the ridiculous hair!

On Thursday we went down to Chilika lagoon which is 50km away and a 3hour bus journey if you go by public transport. We did get to see the amazing sight of Iddywaddy dolphins swimming around. Sadly my photography does not stretch to dolphins and this was my best effort:

I am considering flogging this as a faux Lock Ness Monster photo when I get back, might have to photo shop out the sun!

On getting back off the boat I realised I may have a little bit of heat stroke despite being under shade and drinking plenty of water and I stepped of the boat to the most amazing instantaneous headache. (As Pete put it ‘you look like you’re being stabbed in the head’) So we wimped out on the public transport and paid 100 rupees each to sit on the nice tourist coach on the way home!

Another one of 'those' experiences I’ve had in India was going to a bar in Puri. Drinking is frowned upon but tolerated by tourists so in search for a beer we went to the Bravery Bar – never a more appropriate name was conceived. This little bar is like walking into a very, very grubby cave; it had no windows and was probably the dirtiest place I’ve ever sat down in.  I think when you walk into a place and immediately on entering you turn to the person you’re with and say ‘I’m not sure about this’ it is probably a good sign that you should turn around and walk briskly in the other direction. However we didn’t so we ended up drinking a rather large and strong beer very quickly. I think it’s fair to say my tolerance for alcohol has reduced somewhat so I was a little tipsy that evening.

Going back to food (well you knew I would) we did manage to find the bakery in town. I was in all honesty in pizza/bread/cake heaven. I also managed to completely break my vegetarian ways almost the instant that I saw they sold bacon and sausages. I am hoping it will quell my food thoughts for another few months and I won’t be thinking about those again for a while although I am sure next time I am ill my brain will move onto the next unavailable food stuff in India.

I am back in Deoghar after Pete managed to roll me on the train following my week of gluttony. It was a week filled with good food, a few beers, sunrises and great laughs.

Lets talk about sex

I want to take you back to when you were 13 and sat in a class room listening to ‘Sir’ talk about sexual reproduction. The overwhelming feeling of wanting the ground to swallow up and die rather than listen to another syllable as this is terribly embarrassing for all involved really.  Oh how lucky I realise I was…now.

I discover cultural differences all of the time but I did joke to a colleague recently that I find it amusing that people will not talk about sex but will talk be the regularity and indeed consistency of your ‘motions’, that will be the toilet variety.

We have been base lining for the programme that is being run combining maternal and new-born health and sexual and reproductive rights. It has been a stressful exercise as the timelines were so short and I have only had an initial look at the data but it makes for some interesting reading.

We have been conducting Knowledge, Attitude and Practice (KAP) surveys with women from the age 15 to 49 (the reproductive age) as well as focus groups discussions with men and women. The types of responses we get vary with the age ranges vastly – namely anyone over 25 will on most occasions talk about it whilst the 15 to 24 age bracket just will not answer some if not most of the questions. A large majority just do not know the answers.

I have come to learn that if you go into a school in India and start talking about sex you will be unceremoniously thrown out and told to never darken their door again. So it has to be phrased as ‘life skills’ instead. An accurate term perhaps but it does pose a massive quandary to me as to how you get around the issue of an ever burgeoning population (the second largest in the world according to the latest census), delaying pregnancies and ensuring the people don’t have 2+ babies by the age of 19… it’s a tricky one and sometimes I am thankful that I just collect the data.

The main issue is around taboo and how to get around it. In order to educate people you need to be able to talk about it in the first place. I’m not sure how you can get around this especially when asked women will respond that they really don’t know that much about contraceptives and the people who decide if she will take contraceptives are the in-laws, close knit indeed.

The good news is that there is an impact being made through hard work and commitment; marriages are being delayed, the messages about contraceptives are getting out there and safer pregnancy and birthing practices, it just takes a bit of time and a lot of tact.

Enemy Number 1

Mosquitos - I have developed a hate for the small, flying, blood sucking critters that is bordering on pathological.

Mosquitos can be divided into two groups. The morning mosquitos that are small and don’t make that much noise and the evening ones which are large and make an intensely annoying shrill buzzing noise. Not that they don’t cross the boundaries of morning and evening but more often than not I can be seen chasing around the smaller ones before going to work and the larger ones after work.

I have a wonderful contraption which looks like a tennis racket which has an electric current running through it which kills them. On a nightly basis I come home from work and start tennis practice. The veranda looks a bit like a mosquito grave yard as I’m seen furiously swatting at them until I am satisfied I’ve killed enough for the evening and be quite often heard shouting to the rest of the them ‘yeah let that be a lesson to you’.

I can also blame mosquitos for the need to take anti malaria tablets which are not actually that pleasant. Apart from the dizziness and feeling like I am on a ship I also have visual disturbances which again aren’t great especially when you think something is flying towards your head. I have on a number of occasions startled people by crying out and ducking. I completely and utterly blame the malaria carrying horrors for having to take them and as I am seemingly quite tasty I have to.

The question I have to pose is why they bite people several times? Why not just the once? I woke up having obviously trapped a little darling in the net with me with no less than 6 bites around my left calf, which is I think is actually jolly unfair. If you must bite me just bite me once and have it over with.

One of my friends dared to broach the subject of how amazingly resilient they are especially with the number of blood borne diseases around – they have after all been around for millions of years, which was met with a little bit of resistance. Unfortunately the only argument I could come up with was along the lines of - but why have they survived they are horrid and no one likes them! Not my best argument I think you will agree!

Tennis anyone?

Kolkata baby, yeah!

Last week I returned from Kolkata following a four day workshop on baselining for one of the programmes NEEDS are running in alliance with other partners in India. It was tough going but there were some amazing people there which more than made up for it.

I arrived in Kolkata following a 5 hour train ride which was very very nearly on time, well 15 minutes late in Indian terms is practically early. Now don’t get me wrong I enjoy riding on trains but as the weather is getting warmer sitting in a rather large metal cage on plastic seats actually feel like you are being cooked alive. I also find it incredibly difficult to fall asleep in trains, planes and automobiles which is not much fun as you cannot spend hours in the land of nod. In actual fact the only time I came close to falling asleep a vendor walked past demonstrating the most annoying small plastic drum which is alarmingly loud. I managed to resist pulling the offending article out of his hands and throwing it out of the window…well he was a child after all.

So I arrive in Kolkata to a hotel which is amazing. Air conditioning, hot showers, a proper mattress, all you can eat buffets morning, noon and night… I was in heaven. They also had a GYM! So having researched beforehand I took my trainers and work out gear and headed to the super gym (their name not mine) I fling open the door to discover a tread mill, a flat exercise ball and some scales which told me I had gained an enormous amount of weight (I haven’t verified if they were lying or not, I couldn’t take it if they are correct) and air conditioning that did not work. Now sorry to sound a little scathing but that’s not so super in my book, but when in India… I tried out the treadmill without air conditioning in very humid heat. This adds up to looking and feeling like your head is about to explode in around 20 minutes or so, as my hair is also getting larger (not longer, just larger) it meant I looked like a tomato with an afro. I am quite impressed I didn’t get stuck in the door way when I was getting back to the room it is that big.

I also went out for a couple of nights which was lovely. I went to a mall and there I bought tooth floss, a foot file and fresh coffee. It can be said it is a strange shopping list but they are things that are in short supply in Deoghar. Some of us also went out for a meal on Saturday night. You don’t realise how much you miss things sometimes but getting together and going out for a meal with friends is really very nice and the opportunity to do so was appreciated.

The last morning at the hotel was, well an experience yet again. I went down for breakfast at 7:00 a.m. and the power went off when I was in the lift. One thing that is very good in Kolkata is electricity but on Sunday it had a little bit of a wobbly. So I rang the telephone and no one picked up, I rang it again and no one picked up and then I heard the other lift working and decided that I was definitely stuck. I was stuck between the third and fourth floor so I rang the alarm and was found by the nice maintenance men who opened the outer door for me to jump out. The smallest of the two men was very sweet and made a catching a motion but I asked him to move back as being twice the size of him and probably double the weight (if the dreaded super scales are correct)  I didn’t want to end my time in Kolkata by squashing a poor man to death.

So I finally made it down to breakfast to discover a rather loud tourist complaining… now the one thing you don’t want to hear when you’re drinking you white coffee is: ‘and I found a dead cockroach in the hot milk’. Yes the coffee is made with the hot milk. I like strong coffee but I’m not a massive fan of the crunchy stuff. Cockroaches are part of everyday life here – you see them all the time, all the same I don’t want to drink them.

The trip was ended with another 9 hour car journey. At the risk of sounded ungrateful someone saying car journey to me makes me twitch. I’m still too tall for almost all of the vehicles and it takes so long. Also my family especially know I’m a nervous passenger so being on tender hooks for the whole 9 hours takes it out of you. My fellow passengers get pretty annoyed by the strange sounds I’m emitting and my hands flying up to my eyes every couple of minutes.

I am now back in Deoghar and I have received a large welcoming committee of mosquitos. Oh how I did not miss them.

The Wedding – Part 2

I once commented to Evelyn about just wanting to look attractive, for a change. Being here I have let things slip a little shall I say which makes for a pretty scary sight. (There was a reason I wore makeup!) So the perfect time to dress up is a wedding.

Evelyn and I came home after work as we were to meet our colleagues at around 7 p.m. to go to the wedding. It was actually very pleasant getting dressed and trying, I said try I didn’t succeed, to make myself look attractive. Evelyn looked beautiful as always. So we spent over an hour getting ready which is a long time considering I normally roll out of bed, put some clothes on, try and tame the ‘fro and wait around for a couple of hours as I always seem to get up too early for work.

We head over to the office where all of the ladies are looking lovely, jump into the cars and head over to the wedding.

When we get there we are introduced to the lovely bride and ask what time the ceremony starts – which was 11 p.m. so we were there in plenty of time. We take some photos, nearly start a riot as everyone wants to get into the photos and we’re then herded to some tables and chairs for dinner. Dinner was delicious and it was a little bit like being in a quick fire round of eating – people come and go pilling up your leaf plate with all sorts of delicious treats, tarka dhal, matar paneer and pickle. So I eat this up and all is good with the world. Apart from when I look up. Now you wouldn’t think that eating with your fingers takes that much skill, but actually it’s more difficult than it looks. So when you haven’t quite perfected it (bits of rice stuck to face etc.) the last thing you wanted to see is a rather large group of people with cameras… all pointing your way and the thing that brought me the most joy, a video camera! I’m rather glad I won’t get to see any of the photos as the effort I went to will be quickly dashed away I feel.

We then stand up to go and wash our hands and then… we leave! We all pile back into the cars and off we go. Evelyn and I are a little perplexed but on asking our colleagues the wedding ceremony takes hours and there probably wouldn’t be room for us. It was very generous of Manoranjan to invite us to the wedding; bearing in mind they feed 800 to 1000 people at the weddings I can understand the need for a systematic approach! So we were fed delicious food, paid our respects and then left again in around about an hour. I actually think it’s the perfect way to attend a wedding.



The beautiful bride



Our generous host - Manoranjan

The tables after dinner had been served

The gorgeous Evelyn and Priya

Waving goodbye

Some of the lovely ladies at the wedding