Back to life…back to reality….

So said Jazzie B, of Soul 2 Soul… when he provided the ultimate soundtrack to the summer of 1989 (I was an earnest chemistry student with a greasy mullet and no idea about what the hell I was going to do with my life…..then I got offered a job by P&G and the rest is history…sort of).
The last three weeks have been an interesting re-entry into “normal life” after what I considered to be a normalish life with my friend the gecko in Bejoy Towers, Kolkata.
I realized pretty quickly that I would not change the world in 3 months. It’s a sad fact of life that unless you are a volunteer called Bill Gates the measurable improvement to your charitable cause will be small in 11 weeks ( but I bet he doesn’t do hydrotherapy like I do) .
Within a day of getting back to the office I also realized that in 3 short months the world had not changed without me. I had religiously not read my e mails when I was away. (Im not very devout…so I did slyly track them to see how many my boss sent me,(too many) and very occasionally comment to certain mates on what fun they seemed to be having….I would pop up on messenger- pretend to be hiding, and cackle at the fun they were having compared to me). Id asked Maureen to delete EVERYTHING that wasn’t critical to my ongoing employment before I got back- Im still not sure why I had 357 e mails to come back to- and two weeks later I still haven’t read then yet. She can delete them when she comes back from her vacation.
The main projects were the same. What was depressingly familiar was that the problems we were discussing were the same in some cases. In talking to my guys, it appears that one or two crises had been endured, but the world of haircolor was more or less under control, and justifies the claim that actually, no-one really noticed I was gone. It begs the question, am I needed back? And how should I operate, but that is my challenge for the next three months.
In truth, being away from P&G showed me what a great place it really is. Its full of good people, who do great work, and if you ask for things, you get commitment in return. No-one works here just for the money- and the quality of thinking, work, and application is rewarding. We have a saying- The consumer is boss, which drives everything we do, and whilst the endgame is selling more product, hence making more money, at the end of the day, we try and do it by making better products that delight the world. (here endeth the mantra…but 3 months on the outside have reminded me that the rest of the world is not all like that). Sure there are days when it feels like beaurocracy is rife and the system takes precedence more often than id like, but having seen the real world, I can now truly appreciate what a decent deal this place is.
We do have one terrible habit, and that is creating new, high priority projects which are not staffed, not planned for and hence throw our carefully constructed fantasy on resource allocation into total chaos. (some would say its chaos already, but I don’t know a term to describe the next level up). Ironically, I am the ultimate cowboy and my idea of planning resources is to scratch my head, and proclaim loudly that we’ll “flow to the work” before I lob it at someone unsuspecting who has more than enough to do. However, I have been “coached” that we work in a new age and I have to engage properly. So henceforth I shall polish my crystal ball and foretell the future needs of the business for the next 5 years using the blood of a fake bat ( we don’t do animal testing) and a dab of earwax. For now I have to deal with the new stuff….resourcing it and hoping against hope that what is today “an investigation by a small team to see if we can deliver without new technology, “ does not slip into a major invention project that sucks in people and becomes a rampant behemoth. (Yes, Ive worked on a few of those).

The one thing I have noticed that is gone is time. In Kolkata I had time to think about what I had to do, time to do it, and time off at the end to do other stuff (like write down my rambling thoughts). Back home, particularly at work I get in, am in demand for 10 hours and then collapse exhausted at 6pm wondering what I actually achieved all day. The problem with working in a global organization in the FAST moving consumer goods sector is that everything is always on the move. Life in an NGO is smaller, slower paced and being a smaller organization it is easier to “talk” about things. I suspect (my old boss, although she insisted on calling herself a mentor) Reena would disagree as she is right in the middle and is on call to everyone whenever her office door is open- serves her right for not sending everyone to me for 3 months.
I did have a fleeting fantasy about 9 and a half weeks into my time at the IICP ( and it had nothing to do with Kim Basinger…..). I could see myself actually running an organization like the IICP. I was starting to understand how it all worked, knowing the people and forming opinions about who was good and where the organization was going, and I was getting involved in some of the management stuff going on
Obviously, there is a reason why it’s a bit different at P&G. There is BIG money involved, and if I do a decent job, they give me a little bit of it at the end of the month. (not enough, obviously, but it could never be enough). At the IICP, there is the welfare of real people concerned, and this makes it just as serious. I guess if id stumbled into the world of NGO’s as a career, I would be just as serious about them, but for significantly less money.
I confess I actually quite like the stimulation of things going wrong, and having to fix them. Yes I realize this makes me some sort of masochistic idiot, but it’s the way I am. My first crisis since I got back involved something stupid and trivial happening out East. Its meat and potatoes for me- I do this stuff all the time, but once it gets to the attention of “management”, it becomes a crisis and the world will end if we don’t do something and don’t panic Mr Mainwairing ( Very English joke- sorry to my international audience as unless you’ve seen Dad’s army , you’ll never understand). The trick is (and im giving away my secrets), to let everyone know its under control and do your panicking in private. If people think its ok, then it will be (even if you have no clue what to do).
After the last three months it would be too easy to say” things are worse in India, people are starving, there are disabled kids out there and life is much worse for them. I have a greater balance to my life following my Kolkata experience in the real world”. The reality is that when you have a couple of million quids worth of dodgy hair dye sitting in a warehouse and no-one is sure if you should ship it or not, you don’t think of those worse off than you, you focus on trying to make a decision , the right decision for the consumer, the customer the people in the middle of it all and your management (who are usually the ones shouting loudest). Fortunately, I have some old friends on this business and a few phone calls helped to calm the nerves, pour oil on the waters and the world was saved (at least until next week).

What we did on our holidays

Ok…I said I wouldn’t, but it’s too hot outside and its another 3 hours before we have to go out again in search of the tigers…so as Rita sleeps, I write.

I must confess that I managed to be late in picking my wife up at Delhi airport. She cleared immigration super fast, and was standing outside the terminal when Mr Singh, our driver, and I arrived. At least it saved us the parking fee at the airport, and as Rita had called me and knew I was on the way, she didn’t seem too upset that I’d let her down. After an hours kip at my hotel and breakfast, we clambered aboard our super luxury Innova (recommended because it has a double a/c system and I’m very glad we spent the extra money), and trundled down to Jaipur. I say trundled because the state of the art multilane motorway that starts in Delhi lasts about 50km and then becomes your average India highway- two lanes but often one blocked by a parked broken down truck, a car careering up the wrong side of the road towards us, or a cow. Mr. Singh made steady but safe progress.
We stopped at the Neemrana Fort for lunch. This is a “non hotel hotel”, part of a luxury chain that specializes in stupendous restored buildings, and charging for the privilege of visiting. We spent more on lunch than I usually spend on 3 days food in Kolkata, but what the hell, we’re on vacation, and it was a splendid meal.
After this it was still three hours to Jaipur- the travel agents 4 hours is the drivers “5 or more sir.” I was glad to finally reach our hotel, via a short but expensive trip to a jewelers that just happened to be on the way- “only 5 minutes sir”- and clearly Mr Singh has a furtive “arrangement “ with them. (He was at pains to ask us not to mention this the following day as he could get into trouble with his company, who clearly have an “arrangement” with a different jewelers we just happened to pass by. That trip was also a bit hard on the wallet, but what’s a man to do- seeing his wife for the first time in 11 weeks and it being her birthday the next day?).
Jaipur is known as the Pink City- because when Prince Albert visited in 1876, the maharajah ordered the whole place to be painted that color (not Ian Poulter shocking pink, but a subtle orangey pink that blends with the dust very well). When the royal palace façade was repainted in the wrong shade a couple of years ago, everyone got a bit narked, but it still works, Its about 20 minutes from downtown to the Amer fort, which was where the big cheese Ruler lived before he designed his planned city ( think Milton Keynes but 200 years ago- and it does have roundabouts).
We’d booked a guide- partly because everywhere else I’ve been I had been pestered by people trying to be one and having a bona fide Indian with us gave us some peace. He also told us lots of interesting stories, (some of them may even have been true) and some local color on the state of play in the elections. I was a bit disappointed he didn’t know the IPL results though. We have the only two people in India who hate cricket working for us!!!

We were complete tourists….elephant ride…shopping (ouch!)…I almost got heatstroke in the afternoon. I could feel myself getting irritated by our guide insisting on long detailed explanations of how every instrument in the observatory worked- and what exactly is the point of a sundial that is accurate to 20sec anyway?? When we’d established that it was all done so you could work out your horoscope I lost interest. I didn’t know you have a major star sign ( month of birth) AND a minor sign (hour of birth), and as the temperature felt like it was pushing 45C I decided I didn’t care too much for the mumbo jumbo and retired to the cool of the car. We ate at a local “theme park” full of surreal Indian dancers, magicians, pipe smokers and camel rides…It must have felt to Rita, just 36 hours off the plane, as though she’d drunk a bhang lassi (yoghurt drink infused with special ahem..herb) and was hallucinating the whole thing.
Ranthambore was a long 4 hours away and the road was mainly crap, but they have Tigers, and apparently they are so used to being chased by jeeps full of camera clicking tourists, they are ”tame.” This makes it one of the most likely places to see one (unless you are David Attenborough who sees them everywhere). We were glad to arrive but I must confess, the only Tiger I thought we’d see was the picture on one of the lorries we followed for mile after mile.

It has 35 Tigers in its 192 square kilometers (and two have buggered off to the North, and one died last month, and one just had two cubs so is in hiding). Being summer, it was quiet (just as well, I’d hate to be here in season with thousands of jeeps and buses) but ironically, it means the chances of seeing one increase as they have to go to the lakes for their water.
We sat for a long time admiring the peacocks and the spotted dear. It was very quiet and the guide said he could hear warning calls in the distance. (I didn’t want to confess that it was my stomach loudly complaining about lack of breakfast). I’d almost lost hope and was starting to get interested in the partridges shuffling around in the tree when suddenly, the dear all stopped, looked up in one direction and scarpered as Mrs. T strode out of the undergrowth and, ignoring the jeeps that had suddenly appeared from nowhere moseyed down to the lake for a bath. When a baby started screaming in one car she looked as if thinking….mmmmm breakfast…and then sauntered off down the track. We all followed her for about 30 minutes and then she disappeared down a track that only “VIPs” can use. I could cynically say that it was all staged- and after she disappeared, she went to pick up her daily “appearance fee”. However, the guide said he normally sees a tiger about 30% of the time and he was mightily pleased with such an excellent sighting. We were happy at least!!!
The evening safari was less successful. We waited for ages because “the tiger is in the undergrowth over there sir…honest!” Then we went miles, just in case there was one near the water hole. The people in our jeep described themselves as “jonahs” as they’d been to three parks and had yet to sniff a tiger. However, we were told that another group, on another route had seen one, and right at the end, our guys broke all the rules, went on a forbidden path, and we got a glimpse of a tiger sleeping in a stream bed. If I have a criticism it’s that it is all about the bloody tigers, and the guides seem to have little interest in anything else. There are some marvelous birds, and I’m sure lots of other interesting things in Ranthambore, but no-one seems to care about them very much.

I have commented on Agra before and a repeat visit enabled me to appreciate bits of Agra Fort I’d missed the first time. We also did the full “tourist rip off guide experience in Fattepur Sikri which was great fun. We were told all sorts of lies about the bazaar, the mosque, and blew money each making a wish in aid of erm “muslim charity”
It’s supposed to be a very secret wish- not even to be shared between husband and wife- although why wanting Chelsea to actually win something soon should be a secret I don’t know…so maybe I wished for something else hehe
We saw the birthplace of Krishna at Mathura on the way back up to Delhi- and I nearly burned my bare feet trying to get up the steps to the temple. Krishna temples are very like theme parks and whilst photos are not allowed, spending money on idols, tapes of weird music and all sorts of foods clearly is a requirement- so not very different to Disneyland.
The Rajdhani express ( first class) from Delhi to Kolkata completed my full house of Indian train experiences- at least the ones I want to have- I’ll let the poor students try out the non a/c unreserved stuff- been there, done that in Europe and have no plans to try it again. Actually, the food was indifferent, and the bed no more comfortable than in second class, but the private carriage and service were splendid. I could get used to first class. Back “home” the sultry humidity of Kolkata was a bit of a shock to Rita’s system. I’m used to sweating profusely and lightened my luggage by disposing of a load of T-shirts that smell bad having worn them for too long in this environment. We rose at 5am to be first out on the golf course, to find two fourballs in front of us- but at least they let us play through. Rita can now boast that she too has birdied holes in the Sub continent, although she seemed more keen on sleeping the rest of the day as it was so warm.

Sikkim and Darjeeling
The journey from Bagdograh to Gangtok was a delight. It takes 4 hours up a long windy road tracking a river. For me, seeing hills and verdant vegetation in a car that did not require a/c was a refreshing change. I also love traveling into mountains, and each ridge we crested revealed a new one much higher up. It goes on and on until the top of the world, as these are the foothills of the Himalayas. The sun shone, although the clouds moving in suggested that it might be short lived. Sure enough, we woke the next day to dense mist, which rapidly became rain. We hung around for ages for our passes to chongo lake, and then I lasted less than an hour on the narrow potted and rock strewn road before I concluded that 4 hours suffering on my bony backside to arrive at a 1km lake that we wouldn’t be able to see- so poor was the visibility- wasn’t worth the effort. Unfortunately, I made my final “grumpy tourist decision” just as we hit a long queue due to a recent rock slide which had clearly blocked the road, and reduced it to single file- which both upward and downward traffic seemed determined to ignore. That was another 45 minutes of my life wasted until we could turn round and head back down. My parents never saw a mountain, and I suspected that with cyclone Aalia having just hit Kolkata, (we got out just in time), and a huge swathe of cloud on the BBC world weather map from Hong Kong to Delhi, we would suffer the same.

Sure enough we slept through and woke to torrential rain the next day. There was zero point in visiting the viewpoints. I’m sure Kanchenjoonga (ok- a little artistic licence with the spelling, but the Indians all do the same) is up there, but ill just have to believe in the photos as we didn’t see it. We made our way back down the river valley and could see exactly why the forest is so green- its all that moisture! The river however had been transformed from a brook, gently burbling over the rocks into a brown torrent that swept everything with it. The rain lashed down, roads all over the region were closed and by the time we tried going up there, the roads to Darjeeling were the same. We passed numerous fallen trees, some cleared out of the road, one fortuitously had come down next to a petrol station and so everyone used the forecourt as the new road. I decided that risking hours in a mountain traffic jam to maybe reach Darjeeling, and sit in a hotel room worrying about whether we’d get out again was not worth the effort. (there would have been no way we could have seen anything had we arrived). With our sodden tails between our legs we retired to Siliguri and paid some stupid amount of money for a room in advance of the crowds who I’m sure followed us when they discovered they couldn’t get up that night.
So, we didn’t see a mountain, or much in the way of red pandas or tea plantations, but it was an adventure doing rallycross with our driver. I get the feeling India is done with me and is gently telling me that its time to come home….maybe Ill listen and make a run for it.
We had one final day in Delhi, with a car and driver I wasn’t aware Id booked taking us to see everything……and there is a lot to see in Delhi.
Postscript…..Darjeeling was still cut off two days later- so had we actually got there, we would not have escaped in time to come home.

So… was it worthwhile?

The IICP leadership

Last blog for a while at least, I am not planning on writing when I’m on vacation (the last 11 weeks have not been vacation. I’ve not been paid, and have occasionally done something akin to work. Its work scottie …but not as we know it!!!) I may continue to ramble after I get home (I’ve enjoyed the exercise of writing), but if you want to read, then you have to write me an e mail saying so- I am not planning on filling up your inboxes with my waffle unless you tell me you want me to. chrisinkolkata@gmail.com
I have a week of presentations, and frantic winding things up or handing things over so that if not finished, they can continue without me. Just like a 12 week summer student at P&G, only in the last few weeks have I felt I know what I’m doing, and with three more months I could really get things moving. However, I need to go back to work and earn some cash as my reserves are perilously low.

I can list my achievements as follows
Fundraising strategy- check
Progress on some specific fundraising projects – check
Some HR stuff completed – check
Some workshops for the staff with powerpoint slides – check
A bunch of kids had hydrotherapy with me- and didn’t drown, despite my best efforts.
Actually my last session was the most fun as we had only three kids all of whom could pretty much swim, so we had races and splashing contests. Its great to be a kid some days, even when you are 43.

I feel frustrated that I didn’t do more…..and whilst I can think of many excuses and reasons why not, I will still come away with a sense of “could have done better”.
Personally I have learned a lot as well. Probably the biggest thing is that im reasonably comfortable around people with disability. (Ranu said that if this is an outcome of any placement, then its been successful). They are all just people, even if communicating with them can be tough at times.
I have become a dangerous user (a little knowledge is a dangerous thing) of Microsoft publisher, open office writer, Facebook, blogspot, skype and backing up photos, music and data on external drives…. If you don’t have your life backed up- spend an hour and do it, as it saved me when my computer died.
I’ve met some amazing people motivated by more than just the monthly paycheque, and who have gone out of their way to look after me, knowing I was away from home.

Does volunteering really make a difference?
I had separate long discussions on this subject with Ranu, and Simon Palferman (Mondo challenge operations manager who took the plunge and sent me here, rather than make me teach chemistry in Tanzania (I still shudder slightly at how I personally could have ruined the education of 90 schoolchildren).
Ranu and Simon….party animals

I think we all have similar feelings about this. I could have stayed working, written a fairly large cheque to IICP and covered a chunk of their budget deficit this year (they can’t accept my credit card…yet, so they’d have to pay to get a sterling cheque cleared into Rupee, and go through the pain of trying to get the money, at least until someone sorts out their website).
Three months is not a long time to make a fundamental change to an organization. It was onlythe last couple of weeks I felt I knew what value I could bring to the IICP- and lets face it, I didn’t get them much in the way of new donations. I had to learn fundraising (thank you, thank you those who helped teach me), and the IICP had to learn that I could do other organizational stuff of use.
In some cases, volunteers show up, are not around long enough to actually do anything, and are just a drain on the limited resources of an NGO trying to do good work. (Ranu has told me many stories of some of her “gappers;” Gap year students who show up, party, get sick, travel and occasionally show up at work. For the receiving organization, this is just a pain in the ass. ( actually I did most of those too… maybe I am one of them )
In some cases, westerners showing up in a slum trying to do good works, is interpreted by the slum community as meaning, this NGO is rich- so give us the money instead. Hence the IICP has always worked on these projects with other NGO’s whose focus is poverty. I was fortunate to spend a couple of days in the slums and rural communities, but a careful Indian, local approach is what’s required there.
My conclusions are as follows.
- If you have a specific skill, that fits naturally with the organization- GREAT-use it! A physiotherapist or special educator can do amazing things at the IICP and is seen as help.
- Often its our secondary interests and hobbies that are useful. Had I been a web designer, I could have done the website myself. My slightly geeky inclination for the internet was where I focused my attention and my experience of managing an organization has helped on the HR stuff. ( I am not applying for a role in HR though)
- Spend the time before you start working out where the skills and needs overlap. Had I spent more time doing this in January, then I could have done 4-6 more weeks of useful stuff at IICP- because it took me this long to actually get moving
- If there is no overlap then get involved in an exisiting programme that is up and running- even if you are “just another volunteer who they can slot in”- because at least you are tangibly, supporting the ongoing work.
- The receiving organization also needs to overload you with work. Better to ask for 50 things and get 30 of them, versus ask for 20 initially and only get 15. For me hydrotherapy was an important routine thing for me, and I knew that it made a small tangible difference.

Do I regret it? Not at all- its been an amazing experience , and for me, better than just traveling। Would I do it again? Possibly- but I’d look for ways of making the time most efficient. I could have done so much more in a 6 month placement, and I’m sure in a year the IICP would have money pouring in…I hope they will anyway- I like this organization.

And the rain came down…( go on musos..tell me which song that is from?)
I (and everyone else here) have whined about the heat, and last Saturday was 42.1C (hottest ever in May apparently. I was playing golf with a bunch of mad dogs and Indians. I won Rs 30 as well with a birdie on the 9th J).
However, the week before my round was curtailed. In the space of 10 minutes the sky went from bright blue, through grey to angry malevolent black, the temperature dropped at least 5C and a howling wind sent us scurrying to the halfway house. Om Kaul declared it would blow over. We stood on the tenth tee for 2 minutes, felt the first drops of rain and decided it might be better to wait, and then watched as the heavens opened. It was disappointing because after we stopped, changed and had tea and toast, it brightened up and would have been a pleasant evening to play golf.
Yesterday was slightly different though- the heavens not only opened, they stayed open for a good 4 hours, and I ventured out only to watch the fantastic light show put on by Odin special effects Inc. (dunno if there is an Indian god of thunder- Im sure there is as they have a god for everything else). I thought this would close down the street market, but they put up an extra waterproof sheet over their stall, and carried on selling. Even my icecream man was still on the corner trying to flog “Mango Funs” at Rs20.
Rain? What rain…..should it stop me selling you a saree at a very good price sir??


Since then Ive tried to yell my final presentation at the IICP over the delicate sound of thunder, and was woken at 4.45am this morning by the earth moving I seriously thought it was an explosion for a minute. When I finally ventured out for my run, it was deliciously cool for the first 20 minutes, but thereafter I could feel the sun working, and see the puddles evaporating, wispy tendrils of steam rising and making it very sticky.
This isn’t even the rainy season yet, so when the monssons come its even worse. However, this has been a weird year for weather. I hope its not too hot when Rita comes out to stay.

The IPL, and Election Fever,

I now have something akin to a daily routine. Its scary that I only have 8 working days left, but routine it now is.
I start with a run in the morning around the lakes. It is quieter and cooler at 6am and makes me feel sanctimonius to have done some form of exercise. (My gym membership probably didn’t really pay out as I have not used it as much as I intended). I then take a rickshaw and bus to work (if one of my Aunties isn’t giving me a ride in their car). This is faster than the school bus, and only costs Rs16. (20pence for those of you who do not carry the exchange rate in their heads). I buy the paper on the way and get 10 minutes of local context plus the world sports results and some stuff on Bollywood stars I have never heard of. As this is for the princely sum of Rs 2.5 its seems to me to be a good deal. I then drink my morning coffee (Anujit, the volunteer who also educates me about cricket makes a mean cup of black sludge- just the way I like it). I work a little- (actually it’s a lot at the moment as I have many things coming together and Id like to finish one or two of them before I leave). Twice a week I have my bath…er do hydrotherapy…. And then work some more. Without my computer- still with Sony India who are “waiting for a part,” I’m reliant on a dodgy laptop and a desktop with internet access (when the power is working). It means nothing is easy any more, but I am progressing slowly.
I take the bus and riskshaw (sic) home। There are very rarely accidents in this city because everything goes at about 15km, but the rickshaws race the taxis who race the buses and everyone tries hard to run over any poor cyclist or pedestrian who steps out in front of them. A couple of times I’ve though I was going to die, but everyone has a cheerful disrespect for traffic lights, and no-one seems to mind being cut up too much. God forbid they ever discover road-rage as the place would be carnage. Just outside my apartment is a Kwality (yes…the spelling is such) ice cream trolley and every day I have a RS5 “orange fun.” When it is really hot this can be the best moment of the day, and the ice cream man and I are now on smiling terms.

If I don’t have shopping to do, I can relax and watch the Indian Premier League on tv. Mark Tully, respected journalist and commentator, described India as “a country without full stops”. I must confess, I have no idea what he was on about and found his vignettes a little tiresome when I tried reading his book. (It was part of my Indian prereading before I arrived). However, India is a country of contrasts and beguiling solutions that defy logic. (OK I’m a bloke and logic isn’t my strongest suite). Hence, it is perfectly natural here that when the country’s national passion (cricket) collides with the general election, and there is a dispute about the availability of security (plus an alleged undercurrent of political pressure being applied to try and use the IPL matches for party advertising), the solution is to move the IPL to South Africa. (the weather was better than in the UK apparently).

The whole tournament is designed around Indian TV advertising revenue, and the razzmatazz of Bollywood stars who own the 8 franchises. Just like 20/20 in the UK, they have dancing girls (One Indian commented to me that the best thing about it being in South Africa was that the girls wore less this year), rock music and occasional fireworks. They also have the cream of world cricket, and Freddie Flintoff and Kevin Pieterson. I would have loved to have visited Eden Gardens in Kolkata to have seen the Kolkata Knight Riders play, but I cannot really justify Durban or Cape Town. However, I do watch quite a bit on tv. For those of you not into cricket- its twenty overs a side, lasts about 3 hours and is great to watch them slugging out as many sixes as possible. Unfortunately the KKR are absolute bottom of the heap (played 9, lost 8, and many of those miserably). I get the feeling that they don’t care too much. There is loads of money and the majority of them will be back next year. They have smart uniforms, and are adored by millions. Who cares if they don’t actually win very much?
On the other hand, winning the general election is much more important, although exactly how you win is still a mystery to me. One of the wonders of the modern world… one billion people voting (more or less) democratically, over 5 weeks. (in the UK with a paltry 60 million we should be able to do it in a day). I am not going to comment too much on Indian politics- because I don’t want to get locked up. (I saw a couple who were volunteering in the Gambia got imprisoned because they blogged about the local government). I have heard many opinions about politicians, none of which I will print. ( I have no idea what the libel laws cover in India).
I actually live in a state ruled by the communist party. Other than the odd painted slogan on the wall, and now every tree and wall being festooned with a sickle and star flag, you couldn’t tell- although admittedly I don’t pay taxes.


The leader (Rabin Deb) does not have his picture posted anywhere. He does not play the game of personality politics, unlike his key opponent here, Mamata Banerjhee who is standing for the local grassroots Congress party (not the national one…its different you see..) and they have cool Indian flags with flowers or hands on them, and lots of pictures of her ladyship. ( I confess officer…I may have one or two flags as souvenirs!)

The key players in Indian politics appear to be as follows_ and I have taken this stuff from the national general election website so its all kosher and party approved.

The BJP- humanist ( Im not totally sure what a humanist is, but it sounds good)
Making India a Developed Nation and a Great Power by 2020
Broadening and deepening of economic reforms, based on a self-reliant approach
To fulfill the basic needs in education, healthcare, housing, cultural development.
Commitment to women's all-round empowerment · Intensifying dialogue with Pakistan to find a lasting solution to all bilateral issues
The Indian National Congresss – whose head is sonia Gandhi (and having that surname seems to help in this country. Her namesake (Varun Gandhi) just served a two day jail sentence for making racially inciteful speeches which were videoed and played to the world on Utube….he claimed to no avail they had been tampered with–The INC stand for the following
Generation of more jobs
Eradication of poverty
Step up public investment in agriculture
One-third reservation for women
Commission for the problems of North Eastern States
The other parties are less clear to me.
Bahujan Samut Party BSP – I think are worried about caste ( “the majority are ruled by a minority”…..hmm sounds like anywhere) and are mainly regional- They do however have a cool elephant on their flag
Samajwadi Party stands for Equality and Prosperity of all. It is deadly against communal forces and is in favour of 'Indo Pak Bangladesh Mahasangh'. Party believes in democratic socialism and opposes uncontrolled entry Of Multinational companies to India, It believes that Agriculture, Small and Medium scale Industry is the backbone of Indian Economy and hence every assistance should be given to these sectors.
Finally the Communist Party of India (CPI) supports the Indian National Congress-led United Progressive Alliance government, but without taking part in it. The party is part of the coalition of leftist and communist parties, also known as the Left-Front in national media. The part has been against India's recent nuclear treaty with the United States and even withdrew support to the Manmohan Singh government over the issue.


So there you have it in a nutshell. Next time you go to the polls and struggle to define if New labour are actually more right wing than Maggie’s conservatives ever were, spare a thought for the poor Indian population who have been voting for 5 weeks and it’ll be another month before they know who won.


The only other thing about election day (which in Kolkata is Wednesday 13th) is that we all get a holiday and Horror of horrors, it is a dry day so Ill need to stock up on beers beforehand.

Hot Hot Hot…..

I’m sitting here sweating buckets under a fan, which is moving hot, fetid air around my living room. The temperature outside is ONLY 40C today and has been about this hot for a week. It was 41.2C on Sunday night. This was the day the local power company had a failure which plunged the whole of Kolkata into darkness for 6 hours. It also coincided with the first Kolkata Knightriders match in the Indian Cricket League (the one they are playing in South Africa, because the security couldn’t be provided for such a high profile tournament during the general election ( more of which later).). As the Knightriders got tonked, it may not have been a bad thing that 14 million cricket mad Kolkatians (?) couldn’t see it. However, the hottest April day in Kolkata for a decade was not the best time to have a total power cut.

Kolkata in a powercut- courtesy of the local Daily Telegraph

Gariahat in the same powercut....funny how their generators worked but my apartment ( no generator) was dark

We’ve had a lot of loadshedding power cuts lately. Basically there isn’t enough capacity to deal with the demand of the entire city switching their AC on to max to combat the heat. So, most areas get a cut of 30-120 mins at some point in the day. Even the Indians are fed up with this and many places have a back up generator so they can run limited services. Unfortunately the IICP doesn’t, so I left early today in the hope that Gariahat (my area) was cooler. I treated myself to a Rs5 icecream, sat in a cold room for an hour and then managed 10 minutes on the internet before the power cut out here as well. I found a café with back up electricity, slowly drank an icecream coffee and watched the Knightriders win their second IPL rain affected match through the Duckworth-Lewis rule. (I could explain it. Young Indian boys from the IICP have managed to do so to me on the school bus, but I won’t…go look it up if you really need to know).
I’m told it can’t get any hotter, but will get more humid and therefore unpleasant. This year there has been no Nor’wester storms that make everything more bearable for a couple of days (global warming for you). I go through 2 t-shirts and have at least two showers a day. I crave the mild Spring weather of the UK, and a dull chilly wet day would be positively wonderful right now. I suppose I’ll come back to a summer of them in June.

Electronic mishaps
It started with my watch conking out and it wasn’t the battery. As it was actually quite a nice watch, I wanted to keep it but getting it fixed in the UK was going to be 50 quid before I’d even started, plus I needed a watch for 7 weeks . Rather than buy a knock off from the market (they are more expensive here than Thailand), Shaori said he had a mate, who could take a look and lo and behold, for Rs600, (less than a tenner), and two bottles of beer ( I’m sure Shaori will share as well) I have got it back as good as new.
I love to hate computers। When we only had pieces of paper and a telephone things worked ok. Actually Indian bureaucracy shows that things work, in their own inimitable fashion and very slooowly. The computer has been a great lifeline for me here. I’ve blogged, skyped, cammed and surfed my way through this so far. My best friends in India are Kamal, the IT guy at the IICP, and Mr Prayar, who runs the internet café near me (I have my own booth as I am his best customer). The issue is that when the power goes, I’m helpless. When my computer started to get sick, I became even more pathetic. I have my music on itunes, my photos on Picasa and I watch dodgy DVD’s from Gariahat market on it. Fortunately, I did have it all backed up.

My best friend Kamal- although he hates me....

I don’t know what disc error means, but it sounds serious, and suddenly it took 10 minutes to boot up, and I couldn’t use skype any more, so I went to see a nice man at the Sony service centre, who ummed and aaahed, and said we’d need to send to Singapore for a spare part. The guy at the computer shop said he could fix it if I had recovery discs, or he could sell me a new computer. Eventually I gave it to Kamal who didn’t fix it completely (I still had a disc error), but made it like new, for now at least.
My new best friend at the computer store said he could totally fix the issue, and upgrade the memory. As the charge for the labour in India for 8 hours of fiddling with my hard disc was Rs400….. yep that’s a fiver, I said go for it (Now go to PC world and get them to charge you that!!). The he called me to say there was a “small problem”. It wasn’t the hard disc, it was the SATA cable to the hard disc…and he’d called Sony , who ummed and ahhed and said they’d need to send to Singapore for a spare part….( yes, you have heard that before). What was new was that it would take 10 days ( and I have no idea how much Sony labor will cost…methinks more than Rs400. I have no computer of my own, hence I have no cam, no skype, no itunes and no way to play Valkyrie, X-men Wolverine, Slumdog Millionaire or any of the other films I have on DVD. I can blag my way through work with memory sticks and the IICP computers but I am not the happiest bunny in the world right now. I am also concernbed that if 10 days becomes two weeks, Im getting periously close to the end of my time in Kolkata and I don’t fancy going home with no computer….
I usually put lots of pretty pictures in each posting, but so it was a major disaster when I managed to lose my camera. My introduction to Tollygunge club (remember Mr Ghosht? He gave me a particularly oily smile as he obsequiously welcomed me as a temporary member) was marred somewhat by this loss. The golf was fun, and I can brag about being a member of an Indian club, but losing my camera with ALL my pictures was more than I wanted to pay. Fortunately I have a back up of the pics, and I also have insurance, but this requires me to register the loss within 24 hours.
Thus, I went to the local police station to file an FIR (farcical incident report maybe?). Police stations in Kolkata are pretty much like those anywhere else in the world, only grubbier. There is a man with a gun outside, but inside there are corridors filled with policemen looking important, and probably keeping India safe, but doing it in a way that seems like they are doing nothing. They are pretty intimidating about it as well.
Fortunately I had my Auntie Subhra with me to yell in Bengali and make things happen.
In the first place we went, we had a long discussion about where the incident took place, and where it was detected. Two different police stations had jurisdiction here and so we had to go to my local to file the report. You never see that in “The Bill.” This was a mistake, as there had been a bank job in Gariahat that afternoon and so the rozzers had more important things on their mind. So, we managed to establish that we were in the right place, and suddenly everyone disappeared. Then I got pen and paper and could write my statement ( honest guv, I didn’t do it on purpose), but the man on the desk wouldn’t process my form without orders from his superiors (who of course, were out catching bad guys. They manage to do this sitting in their office smoking). I then had an interview with two of them, the duty officer disappeared with my passport (Subhra said this was the most worrying moment for her, and said never to let my passport out of my hand or sight again), and then everyone went away for an hour and a half. Finally, just as I was at the point of giving it all up, I got given my report, a copy and the man at the desk wrote something up in his book ( it didn’t actually look very official but I’m sure it was) and stamped everything in sight. I ran out joyfully. In the next thrilling installment you can read how I get on with my insurance company!

P.S….. We found the camera….dropped on the floor of the car en route to Tollygunge. The following are the pictures I took of my new golf club! We play some weird game that involves match play, automatic pressing and a maximum of Rs200. I have no idea how it works but after two rounds of golf I am Rs10 up….so it cannot be such a bad game after all.

A plane, some trains and no automobile

I hope my last post impressed on you just how hard Ive been working. This one is going to shatter any illusions you may have about Chris being a dull boy through lack of play. Having worked my way around Kolkata in the first few weeks, I thought it was time to travel a little further afield and get a taste of India.
Shantinetikan-
Only two hours from Kolkata, but a chance to get my feet wet in the madhouse that is Howrah station (think Waterloo with extra beggars and vendors trying to sell anything you might need for a train journey, and plenty you don't....who wants to buy water-pistols for a train journey???). The ticket cost very little, in fact the entire weekend cost about 15 quid all in, but after asking three different officials, all of whom insisted it was platform 8, the train showed up on platform 9....very Indian.
Once on the train, you can buy just about anything, and listen to all sorts of strange music (I hate buskers), or drink chai or eat weird stuff made up of puffed rice, chillies and oil mixed up in a plastic bucket with a grubby spoon and served in a newspaper cone. ( I had eaten lunch so I passed on this delight).
Howrah station


This is a town with a University founded by Tagore, India's first Nobel Laureate ( for literature- go on tell me you know all about him, and do it with a straight face and uncrossed fingers). The University is a bit faded and dilapidated now, but the place was peaceful and very tranquil after 5 weeks in Kolkata. Tagore's house is now a sort of museum; very informative but lacking his Nobel prize which got pinched...and its all bit tatty. This is a pity because if the 16 “guards” sitting around insisting I didn't take pictures and “guarding” the place had been gardeners, it could have been fabulous. A friend, Jayobrato Chatterjee, actually grew up in the house ( his father was one of Tagore's inner circle) and says he finds it most difficult to have to pay to look at places he used to play in.

I stayed in a guest house near to the Deer park (didn't see any deer), and took a cycle rickshaw up from the station. It was a most relaxing way to travel, for me at least, but the guy cycling had thighs of iron and not an ounce of fat on him. He earned every one of the Rs40 (about 50p) I paid him for 30 minutes of cycling. I had fabulous roast chicken for dinner, slept late on Sunday morning, and got back in time for tea on Sunday afternoon.
The guest house and view।


Bodh Gaya
This is one of the holiest Buddhist places. It is eight hours by train from Kolkata, and so time to sample the joy that is an air-conditioned sleeper train, leaving Howrah at 11.30pm on Friday night. As I'm usually tucked up in bed by 10.30, and was suffering from a wretched cold (almost man flu) I was starting to have second thoughts about this trip even at the beginning, especially as I didn't have a confirmed seat for the way back. I was assured that my waitlisted position (6) was safely going to get me home in time for work the next week.
I traveled with Suzanne, also a sleeper carriage virgin, and we started nervously by sitting onto the wrong seats. Once we'd found our places, we sat waiting for everyone else to make the first move- and show us the protocol for making the beds up. The 3 tier a/c carriage needs the seat to be lifted up to make the bed, and I just wanted to try and get my head down, hoping that someone would wake us up at the right place as the train was going on to Delhi (an extra 1000 km further on).
I didn't need to worry, I was wide awake at 5am and spent an hour watching the Indian countryside at dawn. It is flat, with lots of rice fields and very rural. I got an excellent view of lots of people squatting and doing their morning toilet. There was a sign in English announcing our arrival at Gaya, and a nice man with a sign met us at the train. (Auntie Ranu had arranged accommodation at the Sri Lankan mission and station pick up).

Buddha sat under a Banyan tree and got enlightenment. Every significant Buddhist nation now has a shrine in the town to honour this, and cater for the monks and tourists who come to see. Apparently in Winter the place is packed but it is now summer and stupidly hot. Buddhist temples are all the same layout, but each one had characteristics of its nation which made them all very different and interesting.
Shrines R'Us

I walked half the temples the first morning, and then retired to my room to sleep the afternoon heat away। I had a lovely air conditioning unit, that worked for an hour, then we lost the power and it next came on about 30 minutes before we left on Sunday।
I paced myself, a few more shrines before dinner and then next morning a trip to Gaya to see the Vishnupad shrine (built over Vishnu's footprint, and where Buddha apparently meditated for 6 years)। The success of this excursion was getting confirmation that we did have confirmed seats that night- I didn't mind too much that I wasn't allowed inside the shrine after that. (sacred to Hindus and even with my shoes off they wouldn't let me in).After another sleep Suzanne and I walked around the Mahabohdi shrine which was amazing as darkness fell. I was interested to see that the thermometer at 6pm was 36C, and it felt quite cool so I dread to think what it read at 1pm

.
The train back was an hour late arriving- not too bad as it had started 24 hours previously in Mumbai- and a two tier carriage with most people sleeping already was a welcome sight when it did arrive. 5Am at Howrah was just as mad as any other hour- this station never sleeps
Agra
This trip involved a 17 hour train journey and a 4am arrival with the promised car pick up nowhere to be seen। I called every mobile number I had for Mruseless travel agent and his car pick service but ended up taking a taxi from the station to reach the hotel। I don't think I got ripped off too badly but this was not the greatest introduction to Agra। It meant we could walk down to the Taj Mahal just after dawn and find that its closed on a Friday। I took pictures from the backside next to the river। Went back for breakfast and then spent the afternoon at Sikandra (the Mausoleum of Akbar, the biggest daddy Mughal ruler). It was impressive, (bloody huge) and relaxing as there were very few people around. Ivisited a temple (Samadh Soami) still in the throes of construction after 80 years। (it is said that it will never be finished, which I can believe)। It's another monument where photos are not allowed, they didn't sell postcards and I'm still confused by all the religions and gods and sects in India so have no clue who or what it is honouring॥ The building is going to be stunning at the end, a pity that its right next to a busy street and will never have the grandeur of the Taj.

Stolen from the internet.....so whats the point of no photos????
Tagore (he of the stolen Nobel prize above) described it as “a teardrop on the face of eternity।” Frankly, I thought it was the most magnificent edifice I have ever seen. You can look up the history yourselves but this is basically a monument to romantic love by Shah jahan to his favorite wife, after she'd given birth to her fourteenth child. (she did not die in a car accident, despite what they said in Slumdog Millionaire). Even with a thousand people milling around, and “official” guides and photographers buzzing around like angry flies fighting over a jampot, the place is serene and beautiful.

Agra's red fort is where Saha Jahan ruled and gazed at his wife's mausoleum and is also amazing. Every corner turned revealed another great view or cloister. Fattepore Sikri (Old capital city about an hour out of town along a very busy and potholed road) was almost disappointing after this, but was redeemed by my successful bartering of a chess set for Rs100 (and the kid admitted he buys them for Rs90, so I felt suitably good about the bargain).
I rounded off the day going back to the Taj to see it under moonlight (only allowed around the time of a full moon). Unfortunately we misjudged the hour of moonrise and so only saw a ghostly presence in the distance, but it was still the most incredible, special experience to see it that way. The security was also an experience. We had to check in a mile away, leave my mobile phone in a locker and then we were bussed in under an armed guard. There were two body searches, and only 50 people allowed at a time. This is totally understandable as it is arguably the most famous building in the world, and terrorism is a real possibility, but it still felt a bit weird after I'd wandered around only a few hours before with almost no security.

I came back via Delhi.....not a lot to say about it other than its a capital city, busy and grimy and the airport is a nightmare to get to. The Lodhi gardens were great.(huge tombs and very tranquil) ..and so was the icecream van at the gate. I was kind of glad to come “home” to Kolkata......and I'm not getting on a train for a few weeks....

A bit of work from time to time

I suppose Id better provide an update on what Im doing at the IICP, lest you all start to see that all Im really doing on my three months off is using Kolkata as a base to immerse myself in the local high society and see the country in preparation for the vacation of a lifetime when Rita comes out to visit.
(The photos of these trips are so much better than the ones in this post though!).
The fundraising strategy bit
As a total novice at this, and I HATE asking anyone for money directly, I am indebted to those of you who have engaged in my “open source problem solving” and provided contacts, templates, ideas, documents and experience (You know who you are).
I now have the following
-a problem statement।
- A couple of very specific project ideas for approval ( website redesign/ enhanced sponsorship)
-a snazzy powerpoint presentation that summarises the above and a SWOT analysis of the IICP।
Im hoping that the governing body agree with my recommendations, so that I can spend the balance of my time actually trying to push the projects forward, and look at other areas which can be neatly summarised in a business plan which can be actioned, or filed depending on what they really think of it. The advantage of being an unpaid consultant is that no-one will feel the same requirement for action compared to if a huge fee had been paid.
I have been assured that ALL volunteers feel frustration that they are not making a difference, and in only three months I can barely understand the organisation and how it works; let alone effect change.(The exception here is Suzanne- the Australian- Indian teacher from Hong Kong who showed up and in two weeks had helped create a curriculum for teaching English, demonstrated it with the kids and ran a workshop for the teachers on the best ways of using it. I sat in on the last bit and sorted out computer glitches for her, but was seriously impressed by how she engaged on all levels and I believe she has left a significant improvement for the school. She used to say she was “just” a teacher until I convinced her otherwise).

Suzanne in action with children and teachers

Everyone is friendly and I'm starting to get used to the way of getting things done। The staff all have day jobs, so giving me time is a burden- especially when there isn't an obvious link between what I'm doing and how it might help. I have been such a pain in the ass to Kamal in the computer department that he has actually given me a way to get full time web access just so I leave him alone!

In my efforts to be at least a little bit useful I am also engaged in a project to create a performance appraisal system for the staff, (It may look suspiciously like something those of you in P&G are familiar with- no reason to reinvent the wheel), and a code of conduct or training manual. I have also proposed a number of changes to the IICP annual report- based on searching through those of other NGO's. ( They are basically all about trying to raise money). As time goes on, Rena Sen- my IICP contact -is realising that I can be unleashed on all sorts of stuff and so I'm sure Ill be picking your brains on other “work systems” very soon.
The one area where I make a direct difference is in hydrotherapy. The rule is one staff member for every child, so me giving two hours a week allows two more kids the chance to wallow in the pool- and I get a hot shower at the end as well. Once I got over the weirdness, it's actually pretty good fun. With the smaller kids I actually hold their heads above water and help with their exercises- the buoyancy provided by the water makes it easier for them to relax muscles. For the older kids I just sit in the corner and watch whilst they swim. I had a moment of confusion when one of the staff told me I couldn't wear my swimshorts ( bought specially on Rash Behari market, but too baggy), and I wasn't going to risk my speedos ( possibly a bit too tight for Indian cultural norms). I suspect they are turning a blind eye and bending the rules for me.
Leahy trying hard not to drownchildren

I'm learning all about advocacy and the digital social networking phenomenon that is facebook. If you are actually reading this then you're familiar with the concept of the blog....and I've had a variety of feedback about it ( The post of the man with his head up the elephant's bottom was most popular for some reason..- maybe you hoped it was me- and I've been asked to put in more pictures of Ambassador cars!). At the end of the day it's a letter, and saves me the hassle of putting “dear so and so” 70 times when I send it to you all. I used to run a website called “lettersfromjapan.com” way back when the internet was a baby- and this is MUCH easier to use.
Facebook is another beast entirely-and I've been very reticent about engaging until now. I don't have many friends, and don't want 50,000 that I've never met. However, as a tool to help link people associated with Cerebral palsy, (sufferers, carers, workers and researchers) whereby they can share experiences, contacts (and ultimately try and get sources of money) this could be pretty useful. Hence, I've started the IICP group, and am going to work with the lady who runs the “rights for people with disability” group- Ankur to see if we cannot make connections globally.
Ultimately, this may all wither on the vine...Im not totally convinced if it creates anything but work after the initial rush of enthusiasm, but the key learning for me has been as follows.
There is a huge and widening gap between organisations where everyone has web access and uses it to conduct their work and life (and its real easy to do so- so I will never again complain about our IT help desk in the Philippines) and those one step behind. The IICP has e mail and occasional web access, but the flow of information is largely verbal, and its success is down to the personal networks built up over many years by the people. If there are new sources of funds, then those who can reach out fastest and have the widest network are likely to find them first. Hence I believe the IICP needs to be on a par with the biggest Western charities to maintain their funding.
Den
Den is another part of my time here. He has a very interesting story in that he was born with a condition ( not CP) whereby he was paraylsed and non verbal, but with a totally normal mind. In fact the only way he could communicate was using software that he could control with his tongue (EZkeys- the same one sir Steven Hawking uses). He then lost the use of those muscles and had to teach himself to do it with his eyes. The very thought of being like this makes me shudder, but for him it was life and he has gone through secondary education and hopes to graduate soon. Four years ago, a cousin was born with a similar condition, but being in the US, it was diagnosed as being doparesponse dystonia- a genetic disorder where the body cannot produce dopamine. This condition had not even been discovered when Den was born, but now with the right drugs he is transformed and can speak and do many things normally.
Den works with computers, and has friends with similar skills and interests. His dream is to run his own company doing this sort of stuff, but he's strugglinge as he hasn't yet got work that allows him to go to the government to get a small business grant. Their disabilities make it tough to get work in small companies that are not set up for disabled access, but ultimately he can do things online, and so we are working together to try and put together a business plan that might push him forward with his dream.
The benefit for the IICP here is that it would be a great success story, and it would also provide a place other IICP computer graduates can get work, hence creating a virtuous circle. Of course if he gets rich, he'll also be a new donor for the IICP as well. (I can find an angle anywhere!).

Three concerts and a movie- (slightly surreal ) Indian Cultural experiences

I have been very lucky in landing here in Kolkata. The ladies who run the IICP are all highly connected to Kolkatan society and this seems to be a town where who you know is important. I have not just been invited to Ranu's holi party, but met her family and friends and they have all been gracious in passing on invitations to galleries and concerts that I'd never have access to otherwise. In my second week, I was given an invite to a concert celebrating 60 years of cultural ties between India and Austria, and had the pleasure of seeing the Vienna chamber orchestra in concert.

This was surreal in itself, sitting in a concert hall in Kolkata listening to Viennese waltzes being played ( and jolly good it was too- even when they invited a local choir to perform with them and they went very ethnic). This resulted in the first half of the concert being extended by 40 minutes, and I was ready to slink out quietly if the full programme was to go on beyond 11.30pm. However, after a twenty minute interval, they played one short piece for the second half, decided that enough was enough and stopped, before deciding that a 30 minute encore was in order. There were BIG signs up about no recording, photos or mobile phones in the auditorium. These were of course totally ignored by everyone and the music was punctuated by constant flash photography and mobiles going off. I was also surrounded by children who had all fallen asleep within about 15 minutes of the concert starting.
Second up was a total fluke. I was just about to go and find the botanical garden one Sunday morning when I got a call from another lady who has been working with the IICP. Diboo is a medical student, staying with family in Kolkata and is also an Indian singer, and so had been invited to a day long festival of Indian music at the Birla temple concert hall. (very swanky..invite only...you just have to know the right people). So I, Suzanne (the other IICP volunteer) and Diboo sat listening to the absolute top Indian singers, timbala and sitar players all morning. Now I ain't an expert on ragas...Diboo explained some of the nuances to me, but at the end of the day (and I apologise to those who love them and I admit to being a total philistine)I didn't get it. The first movement sounded like the guitar player was tuning up and lasted a long time (a very long time- I popped out midway through to find the facilities and call Rita, and they were still tuning up when I got back). The second bit got kinda funky once the timbala payer had joined in, and by the time they got to the finale I was really into it- except the third bit was really quite short. I couldn't work out what the apprentice sitar players were there for because they just sat and meditated ( or slept) though the entire thing. They looked good at least!! The final one was a typically surreal Indian experience. I had seen a concert by a local Dance School advertised on the street and as it was Indianand Western dance it sounded liked fun. As I bought a ticket they looked somewhat surprised and unprepared for strangers to come in off the street but for Rs55 ( erm about 80p) what did I have to lose? The first challenge was finding the place- and it took two policeman to show me. It was below a distinctly dodgy looking ಇಂಡಿಯನ್ hotel, but once Id descended into the bowels there was a a fabulous statue of the guy who ( I think) had set up the dance school and a wonderfully atmospheric old style theatre ( a bit damp and musty, but it didn't smell as bad as the multiplex cinema I visited last week- more of which later).
The concert was actually the term end display of what the students had actually learned. The entertainment was the 20 minutes of setting up before each 3 minute performance. Anyone who has watched Roadies set up before a rock concert will know that shifting equipment, wiring up microphones and constant “testing testing 1...2...3..” can be riotous fun. Why you cannot walk on, plug in your guitar and play is beyond me. Did they really need an effects pedal to play “au clair de la lune”? I confess I didn't even last until the Indian dance section. I managed three sets of guitar solos, and gave up when they got to the concerto for 16 harmonicas- all tuned to just a slightly different tone. It was excruciatingly good fun, and the serried ranks of parents seemed to be enjoying themselves, although very few were paying any attention to the concert. Im sure you had to be there to understand it!!

My final cultural experience was “Little Zizou” (an english/gujuarati film), playing at the South City Mall. ( Big air conditioned western style place with Marks and Sparks, a Nike shop and mulitplex cinema- I go here from time to time to feel like I'm not in India, until I walk into a shop and get attacked by bored, extremely helpful shop assistants who have made it their mission to sell me something. Browsing alone is definitely not permitted in these places). There are only a few films in English, and they are 3 -6 months later than we have them so this was the first thing I hadn't seen and actually fancied. First the ticket booth test; which one to approach? I stood in line and then realised the sign said telephone bookings only. Then I went to the other line and watched as one couple seemed to be buying a season ticket- which entitled them to free popcorn or something. Whatever it was took 10 minutes and I am not a patient man. By the time I was at the front of the queue, it was almost past the time of the film, but I was of course in the wrong place and had to go back to the original telephone booking line to pay my 2 pounds for a ticket. The cinema looked like any big screen- except I had a numbered ticket, the usher showed me to my place in one corner where all 15 of us were sitting. A fetid smell of damp pervaded the air. Despite the heat, Indian people are fastidiously clean and unlike anywhere else in the world, I haven't smelt body odour as I travel around (except my own of course). This wasn't BO, it was just wet, as though mould was growing on the seats.
The film started on Indian standard time – about 25 minutes after the advertised hour., there was one minute of static adverts ( no Pearl and Dean stuff here, no trailers for upcoming features...). Loved the film – go see it if you can as the characters are hilarious and the story engaging enough. Wasn't so sure about the need for an interval...when they just stopped the film, put the lights up and a guy tried to force me to buy popcorn from a newspaper bag. He was still at it when they restarted the film, and 5 minutes later they remembered that films are generally more visible when the house lights are switched off!.
I'm sure I'll get to love this country. Its a wonderful mix of anarchy, bureaucracy and muddling through so things kind of come together, but not quite how I expect them. Everyone, except the West Bengal Tourist Office and Mr Ghost at the Tollygunge club, is friendly, even if sometimes their idea of help is infuriatingly close to, but ultimately short of what real help looks like. ( Ranu is excepted from this- I would have exploded in frustration by now if it were not for her smile, her lilting, laughing voice as she sorts out my little problems and sets me up for travels and travails).

Food and Haldiran

The food here has been great ( except the chinese restaurant I visited with Suzanne one evening where they brought out warm coke which tasted awful, and vegetable noodles laced with chicken। Oh and nowhere in my area serves beer...which isn't a major problem because the lassi and salted lime juice are great but some days I just feel like a long cool one to go with my curry). Everyone started giving me western food. I got a cheese and tomato sandwich my first day at the IICP- now they just serve me the regular meal everyone gets- which is always delicious. They do good catering here! My maid gave me boiled chicken for the first two weeks until I asked for something Indian. Now I get it with spices and dall (much better). I do seem to get the same each week- so Monday is always egg curry at the IICP and also at home. Its possibly just as well I have the place to myself!!

Jobba (okay it may be Jabba- but she doesn't look anything like Jabba the Hut from Star Wars) caters in the week, and weekends I go out. I have been invited out a few times, and I have found two or three really nice restaurants, plus Azad Hind, the local takeaway which does wicked chicken tikka rolls- freshly made as I wait. This is the closest I have got to street food and I'm not planning on going any further. My stomach is just about getting used to the local bacteria!
I did discover Haldiran – which is a vegetarian sweets and fast food joint, with a supermarket above which is a world of wonderful discovery. I have tried so many different fruit juices now. The Ley berry stuff did go in the bin even though it is supposed to be great for cholesterol. It went all silty and sludgy after a day and I decided that mango and guava nectars were much nicer.
I have had Dhosas ( paper thin rolled pancake with massala), and a number of other great dishes. None of them taste like “English Curry house fare.” and chicken tikka masala really does come from Bradford because you cannot get it here! Whilst spicy, nothing has been unpleasantly hot. I had prawns in mustard sauce- typically Bengali apparently- which is to die for. Ive also had Raj food ( chicken cutlets with a spicy breadcrumb coating and chips) which is also interesting. Not quite English, not quite Indian, but yummy! I also have the ubiquitous mailshot from Dominos pizza and so one night I promise I am going to try their “two for one on Large sizes” and gorge myself on some weird Indian Pizza flavours. I bet they won't find me in 15 minutes either so they may end up paying me for the privilege of my custom.