Calcutta at dead of night

On Wednesday last, we went on a nocturnal tour of Calcutta – it was like nothing I have ever experienced before. The objective of the visit was partly to see where many of the Future Hope children come from, so this necessitated a trip to the 2 main railway stations in Calcutta - a place where many displaced, lost or abandoned children live and sleep and try to make some sort of a living. The first station we visited was Sealdah. The mass of humanity bedded down outside the station was overwhelming – some were travellers, but the majority were people who ‘lived’ there. Tim found a little boy and gave him the leftover food we had brought – I hope he wasn’t too disappointed when he opened it up to find spaghetti and not the rice he was probably expecting.

We went into the station which was slightly less populated – there were a couple of men with a huge pressurised water container hosing down the station floor – more often than not taking  spiteful pleasure in directing a stream of cold water at the poor souls who were asleep there. We – well Tim really – looked to see if there were any children – there were some asleep with their families, but none on their own – except for one little boy in a yellow jumper asleep on the floor. He looked about 8 or 9 years old – possibly older as they tend to be on the small side when not fed properly. He had his knees drawn up under his chin and his toes tucked into the bottom of his jumper and one arm over his head as if to ward off blows.

In the quest for children, I was able to fulfil my ambition of going on an Indian train – albeit briefly. The carriages are pretty basic – the metal seats must get incredibly hot in the summer. There were 2 stationary trains at adjoining platforms so we took a shortcut through one train to reach the other – this involved leaping from one to the other – a distance of about 5 feet – across a 9 foot drop. Tim had asked if I was feeling brave before we jumped – but didn’t wait long enough to hear the answer...

From the station we went first to the Vegetable Market (it was teeming with activity and felt as if we had stepped back in time) and then on to the Burning Ghats beside the river. The Burning Ghats are where the poorer Hindus go to cleanse and burn their dead. Tim continually reminded me to walk slowly and to look confident in an attempt not to draw attention to myself. I could see his logic, but then I did wonder whether being European, wearing western style trousers, a bright green cardigan and carrying a great big handbag might make this ploy a little less effective...

The scene in the Ghats was incredible – very peaceful – no weeping or wailing – apparently that happens when the body is first taken there. There were burning areas on either side of us and 3 burning pyres made from sandalwood - to prevent or disguise the smell of burning flesh. I was extremely relieved as the thought of the smell had worried me. There was a small pyre being prepared, probably for a child, but thankfully we left before that was lit. On the other pyres, the blackened and charred feet of the dead were upright and clearly visible. At one pyre, a man was stoking the fire with a huge bamboo pole – as he poked, he caught one of the feet and the remains of a leg fell onto the floor.

We left the Ghats, crossed the road and ducked through the row of slum dwellings opposite. It was very dark behind the shacks and again I was reminded to walk slowly so as not to attract attention. As we walked – Tim on the railway track and me beside it, I felt extremely nervous at the thought that actually, anyone could have attacked us – especially as there were groups of men high on drugs with crazed and staring eyes. Strangely, the thought that a train might come whizzing by barely crossed my mind.

As we walked by one of the shacks, a sleepy little boy with tousled, lice infested hair was squatting beside the track – he looked about 3 or 4 years old and in many ways he looked like any sleepy child – but this was a little lad in the middle of the night squatting to relieve himself beside the railway line outside his house – it beggars belief!

At one point in our travels, we passed through the Red Light districts and slum areas where some of our day scholars come from. We saw rats as big as cats running between the people sleeping on the streets. When you see where some of our children have come from, you really do realise that they are the lucky ones – they have hope for a much brighter future and are surrounded by people who are willing to do their utmost to see that they have the best chance of realising their dreams and ambitions.

What we saw that night was shocking – but not as shocking as it would have been at the start of our visit – which in itself is slightly worrying. The Burning Ghats were fascinating rather than horrifying; the market had its own beauty – the enormous sacks of fresh aubergines, the piles of garlic, the strength and grace and bearing of the men with their great cumbersome loads.

The sight of the children was pitiful.

Post a comment

'Me No Like' and 'Neither Thin nor Brown'

‘Me no like’ (Bijoy – about 10 times a day when faced with some writing he had to do!) Alison

Having arrived home late on Friday I still feel as if I am in a dream - any moment I am going to wake up and still be in Kolkata. If only that was the case!

People had said before we went that Future Hope ‘sucks you in and gets under your skin’ and that’s it’s ‘addictive’. I can only agree..... we have had the most amazing time and if we could commute weekly we would.

The children are amazing – as Tim Grandage says, ‘they are not to be pitied but admired’. They have the most tenacious optimism I have ever witnessed. They do everything with gusto – sing in assembly, read aloud – and I mean aloud, play games, sing totally unaccompanied and without the slightest self consciousness, eat their lunch or ‘tiffin’ – always making sure that they have fed you first. I have never witnessed such generosity – these are children that have so little and yet they are so generous to each other – they never seem to squabble over anything – we never once heard ‘ that’s not fair’ or similar expressions. I will never forget the look of pride on an older boy’s face as he left the office with a pair of second hand rugby boots for a forthcoming rugby trip. It certainly makes the materialism of England in the run up to Christmas very hard to take.

We were treated with kindness and generosity by everyone we met – adults and children alike. People genuinely wanted to talk and find out about us. They all seemed to have time for a chat or a drink – people don’t seem to rush around so much but really take time with each other.

We have purposefully kept this blog light hearted – we did not want to share in some of the terrible things some of these children have endured – that is their story and not ours to broadcast but believe me many have suffered horrible things and have now been lucky enough to have people looking after them and loving them and giving them a real chance in life. If you have enjoyed our blog and felt you wanted to donate to Future Hope to help to continue the most amazing work it does then please follow this link – your help will be so appreciated.

http://www.justgiving.com/futurehope/Donate

We may repeat this ‘web site’ exercise when we go next year – oh didn’t I mention – we are definitely going back...........

Neither Thin nor Brown ( Toni - I thought I would be both at the end of a month in Calcutta...)

Three years ago, Alison and I had a ‘Gap Week’ in Thailand – it was brilliant, we had such fun and laughed till we were fit to burst. We decided that it would be fun to repeat the experience and I remember saying that I had always fancied visiting India... Alison replied that we could go to this place called Future Hope to work – full time... not what I had in mind at all... and now we’ve just returned – isn’t it strange how life works out!!

Our last day at Future Hope was one more rollercoaster ride of emotion – full of tears and joy at the surprises that were planned for us, the cards and presents that were given to us, the hugs and farewells that were made. I don’t know how many times we were asked not IF we were coming back, but WHEN. We are definitely part of the wonderful community that is Future Hope.

Being back in the UK is slightly surreal – absolutely wonderful to be reunited with our families, but our thoughts continually go back to Rowland Road (said with an Indian accent if you want to stand any chance of being understood by the local taxi drivers) and the wonderful children and staff we left behind. We have already had emails from some of them and I know that Alison has started scouring charity shops for shoes as there is always a shortage of certain sizes – I feel that Future Hope will never be out of our thoughts and after the four marvellous weeks we have had, I wouldn’t want it any other way!

Post a comment

Calcutta at dead of night

On Wednesday last, we went on a nocturnal tour of Calcutta – it was like nothing I have ever experienced before. The objective of the visit was partly to see where many of the Future Hope children come from, so this necessitated a trip to the 2 main railway stations in Calcutta - a place where many displaced, lost or abandoned children live and sleep and try to make some sort of a living. The first station we visited was Sealdah. The mass of humanity bedded down outside the station was overwhelming – some were travellers, but the majority were people who ‘lived’ there. Tim found a little boy and gave him the leftover food we had brought – I hope he wasn’t too disappointed when he opened it up to find spaghetti and not the rice he was probably expecting.

We went into the station which was slightly less populated – there were a couple of men with a huge pressurised water container hosing down the station floor – more often than not taking spiteful pleasure in directing a stream of cold water at the poor souls who were asleep there. We – well Tim really – looked to see if there were any children – there were some asleep with their families, but none on their own – except for one little boy in a yellow jumper asleep on the floor. He looked about 8 or 9 years old – possibly older as they tend to be on the small side when not fed properly. He had his knees drawn up under his chin and his toes tucked into the bottom of his jumper and one arm over his head as if to ward off blows.

In the quest for children, I was able to fulfil my ambition of going on an Indian train – albeit briefly. The carriages are pretty basic – the metal seats must get incredibly hot in the summer. There were 2 stationary trains at adjoining platforms so we took a shortcut through one train to reach the other – this involved leaping from one to the other – a distance of about 5 feet – across a 9 foot drop. Tim had asked if I was feeling brave before we jumped – but didn’t wait long enough to hear the answer...

From the station we went first to the Vegetable Market (it was teeming with activity and felt as if we had stepped back in time) and then on to the Burning Ghats beside the river. The Burning Ghats are where the poorer Hindus go to cleanse and burn their dead. Tim continually reminded me to walk slowly and to look confident in an attempt not to draw attention to myself. I could see his logic, but then I did wonder whether being European, wearing western style trousers, a bright green cardigan and carrying a great big handbag might make this ploy a little less effective...

The scene in the Ghats was incredible – very peaceful – no weeping or wailing – apparently that happens when the body is first taken there. There were burning areas on either side of us and 3 burning pyres made from sandalwood - to prevent or disguise the smell of burning flesh. I was extremely relieved as the thought of the smell had worried me. There was a small pyre being prepared, probably for a child, but thankfully we left before that was lit. On the other pyres, the blackened and charred feet of the dead were upright and clearly visible. At one pyre, a man was stoking the fire with a huge bamboo pole – as he poked, he caught one of the feet and the remains of a leg fell onto the floor.

We left the Ghats, crossed the road and ducked through the row of slum dwellings opposite. It was very dark behind the shacks and again I was reminded to walk slowly so as not to attract attention. As we walked – Tim on the railway track and me beside it, I felt extremely nervous at the thought that actually, anyone could have attacked us – especially as there were groups of men high on drugs with crazed and staring eyes. Strangely, the thought that a train might come whizzing by barely crossed my mind.

As we walked by one of the shacks, a sleepy little boy with tousled, lice infested hair was squatting beside the track – he looked about 3 or 4 years old and in many ways he looked like any sleepy child – but this was a little lad in the middle of the night squatting to relieve himself beside the railway line outside his house – it beggars belief!

At one point in our travels, we passed through the Red Light districts and slum areas where some of our day scholars come from. We saw rats as big as cats running between the people sleeping on the streets. When you see where some of our children have come from, you really do realise that they are the lucky ones – they have hope for a much brighter future and are surrounded by people who are willing to do their utmost to see that they have the best chance of realising their dreams and ambitions.

What we saw that night was shocking – but not as shocking as it would have been at the start of our visit – which in itself is slightly worrying. The Burning Ghats were fascinating rather than horrifying; the market had its own beauty – the enormous sacks of fresh aubergines, the piles of garlic, the strength and grace and bearing of the men with their great cumbersome loads.

The sight of the children was pitiful.

Post a comment

Sports Day photos!

Post a comment

Team Auntie Sports Day

What an amazing day we have had today!!

I was asked to take a group of six ‘precocious’ boys for I.T. lessons twice a week after school. They were mixed ages – 2 each from classes 5, 6 and 7. I decided that it might be a nice idea to organise a Mini Sports Day with them – their role being to publicise the event (Publisher), record scores (Excel), present what they had done in assembly (PowerPoint) and finally to report the event (Publisher). The boys suggested and agreed on 6 events and offered the chance to enter to children from Kindergarten to class 4.

We christened the group ‘Team Auntie’ as Alison and I were their teachers.

The boys have been absolutely incredible; 2 of the boys missed the first 2 sessions as they were poorly with malaria. They each came and found me to ask if it would still be ok to come along – the 4 other boys made sure that they caught up with what they had missed in earlier sessions and were extremely generous with their time. I’ve remarked before at how patient the children here are – Team Auntie are no exception – no complaints when computers didn’t work, or when work couldn’t be printed out, or when computers froze for no apparent reason.

Today was THE day. Riou, one of the volunteers had organised all the equipment needed for the races and along with Felix and Tony was responsible for running the teams and explaining rules etc – not many of them were familiar with the intricacies of the 3-legged race and Welly Throwing (or willy as they insisted on calling it) was a complete mystery!

All 4 teams entered into the spirit of the morning and hopped, threw, ran and skipped fit to burst. Team Auntie collated results, were able to give a continual update on team positions and after the event was over, begged to be allowed into the IT Suite so that they could record the results on their spreadsheets and produce their charts.

The reward for Team Auntie was to be taken for lunch by Alison and myself – the school driver took us all and dropped us in a street that we were completely unfamiliar with – good job they seemed to know which restaurant we were going to! We had a real slap up meal with unlimited fizzy drinks – and ice cream for pud (I was relieved that the ice cream came in individual tubs – wouldn’t like a repeat of Alison’s recent experience.) The boys were great company and shared with us some of their hopes and dreams for the future.

We caught 2 taxis back to school – it’s amazing how many kids you can cram into the back of a taxi in Calcutta – and seeing small children begging outside the restaurant made us reflect that the Future Hope children are in fact the lucky ones – most of them will actually have a future!

I don’t want to end this blog on such a sombre note, so will just ask you to look at the photos from today – just try to imagine the fun we had – and the noise level of all the kids as they cheered like crazy for their teams.

A really GREAT day!!

Post a comment

Aunty – open your shoes!

The day started hot and humid. Toni and I are getting used to the heat now and although everyone says that it will get cooler soon we are not so sure. We had lunch with the ‘Upstairs Boys’ – which includes Bijoy, who acted as our host. He took us up and proudly showed us their little beds - all beside each other in a large room. Walking into one room there were two tiny boys changing – Bijoy was mortified – cries of ‘Don’t look, Aunty’ ensued and lots of giggling! We sat on the floor with the boys and ate with them. There was one new little boy who had entered the school and the home two days previously – he clung to the houseparent’s hand and ate a huge amount! The boys love to encourage us to eat the green chillies – ‘They are only beans, Aunty!’ We know better!

Despite everyone saying that it never rains in November, we know that to be untrue and so we hoped for a shower later in the day to relieve the humidity. What we got was a deluge of Biblical proportions! We had been invited to hear Mark Tulley speak at the British Council and as we left the house the rain had been pouring down for about 20 minutes. Toni and I had made a bit of an effort with our appearance but within seconds were soaked to the skin! Tim’s Jeep is no match for this kind of rain and it seemed to be coming in from the floor, the windows and the roof! His single windscreen wiper on the driver’s side is certainly not man enough for the job but that doesn’t seem to faze him – the occasional arm out of the window for a quick wipe of the screen seems to do the job. The roads were several feet deep in water and as we were late (!) Tim took mostly to the pavements sending huge waves in every direction. It is surprising how something that would have had us screaming in England seems almost commonplace over here. We finally got to the British Council, clambered unsteadily out of the Jeep – put very attractive striped towels over our heads and ran in! There is obviously something about Kolkata and headwear that seems to haunt me!

We returned home later and although the streets had dried slightly there was a huge puddle straddling the pathway between our gate and our front door. The gate man kindly said ‘Aunty – you will have to open your shoes.’ Stifling our giggles and hoisting our skirts aloft we did just that!

Post a comment

Two smug ladies, be careful what you wish for

We had a nice leisurely start to our Saturday morning – bit of a lie in, breakfast, then packed and got a taxi to the Oberoi Grand. The weekend we had so been looking forward to was about to begin.

We arrived at the hotel, checked in, and were shown to our room by a lovely young lady who probably thought we were a bit odd – not tourists, yet we were babbling on about this being our holiday – yet we were only staying for 1 night. The room was lovely, everything was clean and fresh, the bed was sumptuous – so much so that we were afraid to put our feet on it – and the shower had such good pressure that it could take your head off!

Look at those beds... look at those feet...

We had no trouble in finding the swimming pool – this is where we were planning to spend most of our time - and we soon made ourselves comfortable. That’s pretty much when things started to go pear shaped.

I have been developing a bit of a rash since about Thursday – nothing of any great note, but linked possibly to a slight temperature now and again. I lay in the sun for about 30 minutes and realised that my whole body - and for some reason my knees and elbows in particular – had turned Bright Red. I could see the people beside me looking at me in a rather peculiar fashion and who can blame them – I wouldn’t have wanted to lie beside me. Alison is made of stronger stuff, doesn’t mind how unsightly I am, and lay on the next sun bed quite happily – the only problem was that she wasn’t always there. A couple of nights ago, we had had dinner in the place where Cliff Richards first started his singing career and her tummy hadn’t been the same since the chick pea dhal. Things were not going according to plan!

We soon decided to move into a sheltered area out of the sun, and as we did so, the overcast sky opened and we had a torrential downpour for the next 20 minutes – very soothing on the rash I might add, but not conducive to the rest and relaxation we had planned.

Look at that rain... look at those knees!!

We had decided on our mini break for a number of reasons – to do some shopping, sightseeing, bit of a swim, bit of a sunbathe, a nice meal with a nice glass of wine (neither of us has had wine since we arrived) and even maybe a massage. In the event, neither of us felt up to eating or doing anything at all so we spent the evening in our room watching repeats of Ab Fab and Blackadder.

We had a good night’s sleep with only one or two nocturnal bathroom visits, then packed and left for home. We were given a very warm welcome back by Kokon and Minnie and I can’t tell you how good it felt to get back into our little apartment. It was great to be back in the Ballygunge area where we live and leave behind the beggars and other things which grow up around a large international hotel. The hotel itself had been full of business people and such a huge contrast to what Alison and I have been experiencing so far.

As I sit on my bed writing this blog, I think of the kids who tease us and joke with us and often make us weep at their sheer generosity of spirit and I know where I would rather be!

Post a comment