Paying respect to "Mahatma" Gandhi and being stroked on the chin by a transvestite !

 Saturday morning and the living is easy! A lie in with a leisurely read at the papers and omelette and toast with "Chai" to wash it down is the order of the day! It's going to be another scorcher (well for me at any rate!) Fully fuelled for whatever I choose to do, my conscience gives me a dunt and reminds me that there is still so much else to see in Delhi and behaving like a sloth who's constipated is not the answer, so I jump in a rickshaw and head to Gandhi's burial spot. 

Not realising that the journey is likely to be anything like it turned out was a error of judgement on my part! It took all my patience (I know I don't have much but what I have got) not to get out the rickshaw and clock the policeman who held us up at a junction for 20 mins while he let all the rest of the main and side roads through. Still Mother India and all that! The ride was almost 2 hours and a chiropractor would go down well now after the journey! The plot itself is in a sunken garden with an eternal flame burning and the devotees passing by the tomb are dignified as you'd expect for someone for whom over a billion and a quarter people still regard as almost God like. No chance of any British politician being buried in such a fashion. Next up I went to the Lodhi Gardens, described as the lungs of Delhi and with the vehicles on the road no wonder they need so many parks. This one is about the size of all the parks in Aberdeen combined, still it was shady in parts and I'd now become the owner of a cricket hat to keep the sun at bay. 

 This is another wee step into some metamorphous on my part, eating veggie stuff, liking cricket and drinking chai. Disconcerting or what? Maybe I'm becoming the archetypal "Brown Englishman" that the colonials were trying to make the Indians. I've broken the journey home up by stopping off in Connaught Place for some Chinese food and a Kingfisher beer since I've missed lunch at the base. I think the real reason I needed the beer was that on the way to Connaught Place a "Trannie" leant into the rickshaw and stroked my chin departing back along the line before he could interpret the words "Feck Off" and get a shave! The driver was bemused by this and to a certain extent I was too since, in all my 62 years I've never been approached by anyone gay, much less a man in a sari. 

P.S. that is not a plea for any gay attention in case there is any doubt. This kaleidoscope of senses in Delhi continues to fascinate me, despite the obvious signs of poverty and begging which I have to force myself to turn a "Nelson's eye" to. 

 Namaste from Delhi

"Bubbling" as Barbara bows out ! More Delhi memories

 There were some wet eyes this morning in the class as Barbara bowed out of her assignment. The kids had got her a cake with a candle on it, and some pepsi and lemonade with crisps etc; and we cut the lesson short so that we could all gather in the classroom and they could say farewell. They'd also bought her some presents and it was a wee bit emotional. The assistant Director also went out and bought her a gift which was really nice as they haven't really seen eye to eye! Photographs with mobile phones were the order of the day and two with a proper camera for posterity. There is a mini-crisis for my ongoing placement at the Habitat Learning Centre, in that they want me to change my times of work there to the afternoon. For me this is no big deal but it does mean that the kids I've had each day, may not get there in the afternoon and that is a pity! 

It does mean that I may get a whole new or part new bunch and have to start from scratch. That is a bit frustrating but I'm only the unpaid hired help, and the progress Barbs and I have made with our group may well stagnate. I hope not for their sakes, as they'd warm your heart with their attitude and happy faces (even a cynical old prat like me!). As she flies out tonight at midnight for a 20 hour flight back to Detroit with a 6 hour stopover in New York it is going to be a long day/night for her! So farewell to her and I hope she enjoys her new life in Orlando where she's going to work for the Disney corporation!

She's worked with a clown for a fortnight so Mickey Mouse should be a doddle! 

For me it is a relatively quiet weekend in Delhi again, and the girls are organised for the movies etc. Next weekend will be enough as we have a train journey of 8 hours to do, and I'll have a better description of the train and it's facilities (?) after it, certainly if the buses are anything to go by, it will be an eye opener. I've had to get my daughter Fe to send a stroppy message to BT (how unlike me to pen something sarcastic and stroppy to a contractor?) as the plonkers have disconnected my mobile phone, as the usage seems high to them! Why did I bother telling them I was coming out here, if they're not going to pay any attention to it and cut me off? It's left me a bit isolated pro tempore but if it isn't back on in 24 hours then they'll have broken their side of the contract and I've no compunction in getting someone else, and indeed it appears I can get a fairly cheap mobile here after all and pay up front for air-time with inbound calls free with Air Tel of India.

Namaste

Scotrail eat your heart out ! Back a decade to Delhi

 Today is Barbara's 2nd last day as she goes back to Detroit tomorrow night. She's been a big help and in some respects I'll miss her help and advice. In the afternoon she and I went to a golf driving range and knocked a couple of buckets of balls and with the hire of a driver it came to almost 2$, such extravagance! 

As an aside when we were being driven back from the Habitat learning centre we had to overtake two camels and two elephants at lunchtime, in fact they were making better progress than the cars. 

Last night the girls and I were organising a couple of trips! One to Goa in March (towards the end of month) and to Amritsar to the Golden Temple in a weeks time. The girls (having the technical ability, booked and paid for the flights online). The train was another matter, and the trains this weekend are sold out with a waiting list of too many to contemplate. The only answer is for me to go down to the station myself and see what can be done about the following weekend. 

Being me I decide to avoid the "tourist" booth in the main station and go with the Sikh driver to the Indian ticket office, it was a hoot! The place was heaving to the gills with Indian guys and a single solitary pale face (but he did have a sense of humour and a tattoo with Mother India in Sanskrit on his upper arm), this latter aspect was enough to get by and eventually I got 3 returns (not in the class I'd have liked for me and the girls Laiah and Shanta), and the train we are booked on takes an hour more than the express we'd wanted for the outbound journey, on the plus side we are booked on the express on the return journey. I bet Scotrail would sell their souls for the queues and waiting lists for every seat on their trains! 

Shanta has booked us a hotel room at 450 rupees each a night (9$) and it has a rooftop restaurant with cushions outside on the roof and a view of the Golden Temple! The older women would have a heart attack if they thought they had to pay less than 120$. As an aside the "Trout with the Pout" is leaving and has given bad feedback from which the rest of us are quite taken aback, since we are all really entering into the way of life of Delhi. 

Namaste from 30 deg C and wall to wall sunshine.

Britain is unravelling and the Monarchy is heading for the dustbin of history!

The headline above will undoubtedly lose me some "friends" on social media, but in truth, the fact remains that the "United" Kingdom which is no more united than is having, joint membership to the Orange Order and the Ancient Order of Hibernian !

These two "Orders" are as diametrically opposite as it is physically possible to be ! 

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Then there was the "United Kingdom" which with the advent of Brexit is now more "Untied" than "United".

Pre Brexit

Post Brexit

Notwithstanding the inbuilt desire in Scotland for some form of self governance, this removal from the E.U. via England's majority for Brexit this was metaphorically speaking the "cat among the pigeons". 

The referendum for Brexit in Scotland was a substantial vote of 62-38% in favour of remaining, whereas the overall UK figure was 51.9-48.1% for leaving. The disparity could hardly be more stark and the end result has been an unprecedented rise in support for Independence. 

There were a couple of areas in Scotland for which the rise in support did not reflect the nationwide movement. Predominantly the North East of Scotland in which the fishing industries dominate. This was to prove a false dawn as they found out that Boris Johnson's word was not his bond!

Who'd have thought that Trawler Skippers could be such gullible twerps ?

Boris "selling" the Peterhead Fishing Industry a "Sprat" for a mackerel. The fact remains that the loss of EU markets has dealt the Fishing Industry, if not a mortal blow, then a wound that will fester for a long time to come.

I am genuinely captivated with a book by Gavin Esler (see below) which has summarised the status of Britain to a tee! Not that this summary white-washes Scotland by any means, but it does give clarity and objectivity to the debate around the unravelling of the UK. In the interests of economics I got my copy via Kindle for a mere British Pound (£); and is probably the best £1 I've spent ever.

The Monarchy

This is the part at which my ex-RAF colleagues and I diverge and probably by 180 degrees.

The line of succession of the House of Windsor (a.k.a. Saxe-Coburg-Gotha);

The name Saxe-Coburg-Gotha came into the British Royal Family in 1840 
with the marriage of Queen Victoria to Prince Albert, Duke of Saxe-Coburg & Gotha. 

Queen Victoria herself was the last monarch of the House of Hanover.
The House of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha as a British dynasty was short-lived. 
It encompassed the reign of King Edward VII, who reigned for nine years 
at the beginning of the modern age in the early years of the twentieth century, 
and the first seven years of his son, King George V, 
who replaced the German-sounding title with that of Windsor in 1917
during the First World War. 

From the outset let me make clear that E II R or Queen Elizabeth 
the second of England should be in fact Queen Elizabeth the first of Scotland, 

Actually, I hold her in high esteem since during her reign of approaching 70 years, 
she has at all times remained above and aloof from, Westminster Politics. 

Despite the attempts of certain political party leaders to inveigle her into their webs. 
Cameron in 2014 springs to mind.

However the same cannot be said for her eldest son Charles, whose infamous 
"Black Spider Letters" show that he most assuredly does not keep 
himself and his opinion out of the political arena. 

Now it transpires that William and his wife Kate too, seem to be 
being sucked into the morass of British politics. 

In the case of Scotland, they publicly view the country as some 
sort of tartan holiday arena where according to William they feel an 
affinity with the people! 

Personally I feel this is patronising baloney since the idea 
that they (William & Kate) had to scrape by using food banks and 
on a financial pittance like so many across the British Isles is risible.

The University of St Andrews is the only real connection both of them 
have with the Scots and of course their free issue titles 
"The Earl and Countess of Strathearn" and William is of course 
"Lord High Commissioner for the Church of Scotland".

High Commissioner of an institution which is haemorrhaging participants 
quicker than Boris Johnson does sexual partners is hardly inspiring in 
terms of becoming the Monarch of a Dis-United Kingdom. 

The future of the former UK will be decided by the future voting public, 
and if the youth have anything to do with it, then the idea of a 
non tax paying monarchy for whom wealth is an essential part of the 
pantomime is according to statistics is a non-runner.

A singing Sikh and 3 "Transvestites"

 Last night the girls and I had a superb Chinese meal in Connaught Place at a restaurant called Zen. The food was super and my street credibility was on an upward trajectory so far as the Indian guys were concerned as I was in the company of 4 beautiful young girls. The fact that I'm almost old enough to be their Grandad didn't seem to catch on with the guys. 

I'll let their minds keep that thought though! 

 Sunday morning and after a lazy coffee and a swatch at the Sunday papers plus the usual quota of nicotine I decide to get cleaned up and head out to the city centre again and see some more of the sights! 

I hail a rickshaw for another spine shattering, but ultimately practical ride into "Old Delhi" having picked the Red Fort to start with. Old Delhi is if anything, even more densely inhabited than New Delhi, and I have to admit the overwhelming odour of sewage and other waste allied to being jammed tightly between other vehicles all trying to the general area of "Kashmiri Gate", is affecting the Long Island Ice Teas I had last night in Zen. But enough of my digestive tracts, between the driver and I we decide that enough is enough and we about face and head back to the Red Fort. The Red Fort is an impressive edifice, but nowhere close to the one in Agra! I suspect due to the number of people who visit it en masse at the weekends. Whole families are using the gardens (?) as picnic areas and as a result the Fort has seen better days. 

Still though it is worth a visit, but wouldn't be top of my must see places in Mother India. The fact that it is very large in area means I'm hungry (no breakfast per se), by the time I get round, so in typical "Walker fashion" I go in with the locals to their cafe area and although somewhat pale by comparison, I'm fully accepted by them and not stared at by the locals. The other big plus is the fact that the locals have cheaper rates for everything, so my token lunch (it's that time already) is less than $2. My tattoo and the limited Hindi I now have is enough to ensure I'm not as bothered as some of the other nationals who're thronging the site! On that basis I decided to walk a bit before getting another rickshaw to Connaught Place, as I know I'll be able to use a loo there and I'm not going so native as to pee in the street(a fairly common sight). 

Whilst we're struggling through the traffic we come to a grinding halt in a jam, only to be assailed (as others were too!) by a group of transvestites demanding money for them not to curse you. I've seen this on Paul Merton's visit to India so the 6ft 2in sari wearing man with a couple of days stubble can take a hike, as can his mates who're equally ugly, even for men. Her (?) curse aside I should have offered him/her a loan of my electric razor as he/she is in dire need of it. I'll need to watch that none of my appendages drop off as a result of the curse. 

Connaught Place is where we were last night at the restaurant so I'm totally familiar with it and as such can wander at leisure, stopping for a cheese sandwich in something like Harrods or should it be Horrids from "Still Game". The process for buying something as cheap (?) as cheese sandwich is convoluted to say the least involving 3 separate paper transactions, (no wonder the Amazonian rainforest is in danger). I'm tackled by a shoeshine man offering to make my shoes shine like leather, that would be fine if I wasn't wearing suede shoes! From yesterday I'm stopped by the same guy asking if I want my ears unwaxed, I reminded him we'd met yesterday and he's asked me then. The intervening 24 hours had not seen an undue build up of wax in my "wing nuts" so his kind offer of a very cheap job was rejected. To cap off my day I'm taken back in quick order to Hauz Khas by a singing Sikh rickshaw driver, in the absence of anything other than noise pollution and honking horns it makes a nice change, so he got a tip for his efforts and he had me back at the apartments in enough time to avoid the inevitable accident I'd have had if we'd been caught in traffic! It's old firm day today so "C'mon the Hoops" and namaste from Delhi.

"O Tempore, O Mores" - 21st century and Cicero's Latin is still relevant !

 The Latin expression above is attributed to Cicero in the first century B.C. and generally means Oh what times and Oh what customs or in simplistic terms "Oh the times we live in ".

Marcus Tullius Cicero was born on January 3, 106 B.C.E. and was murdered on December 7, 43 B.C.E. His life coincided with the decline and fall of the Roman Republic, and he was an important actor in many of the significant political events of his time! He wasn't truly wealthy, nor was he particularly intelligent, but he was a devious schemer !  

Remind you of anyone in the 21st century political arena?

• Someone who is always trying to get his sticky mitts on money (especially someone else's).
• Cicero was a prolific writer but not necessarily with original philosophical ideas.
•  Who in todays government was an alleged journalist for the Telegraph under Max Hastings (who by the way thought he was as phoney as a nine bob note!).
• Who has been showing an immoral attitude towards women?
• Who has an indeterminate number of children?

Far be it from me to suggest that anyone might be slain as his political ambitions come to be uncovered as duplicitous, devious and designed for his personal benefit.

"O Tempore" indeed !

Political Anomalies in a Dystopian Britain

The political events of the past month in the UK as a whole, have created a morass and one which prompted a political and philosophical debate in Ashgrove, with Bunty's Honours degree in the topic being of paramount importance (and relevance).

We both struggle to understand why in today's society, there is the glaring anomaly of traditional socialist constituencies voting Tory and in particular this brand of Toryism!  

Hartlepool being a glaringly obvious example of this !

It would be too easy to just suggest that the electorate had become disenchanted with Starmer's version of Labour since the Tories have had such an elongated time in charge of Government policy and finances and it was not the Labour Party that were in control of national finances and budgets. 

The most ludicrous comment I have ever heard in my entire life on this topic was from a native of Hartlepool on LBC saying that the Tories had given them 9 foodbanks but Labour hadn't given them any ! 

Sweet mother of Jesus what has he between his wing nut lugs?

In Scotland, with our First Minister has been consistently showing the leadership that has propelled her and the SNP to a fourth term in office and this under the form of proportional representation that is deliberately constructed to avoid a landslide of whatever hue. This leadership too, had to fight the vagaries of a committee of enquiry based on unsubstantiated allegations of having misled Holyrood over the actions or otherwise of her predecessor.

1.        Why then do we have a young voter in the East End of Glasgow (hardly Bearsden) on the radio this morning purporting to vote Tory, bearing in mind we have two principal alternatives to the abhorrent party rejected totally up here since 1955 ?

2.       Why do we have a whole group of working class or indeed even unemployed, voters in Scotland who would gladly sacrifice their political principles on the basis that potentially their football team utilise the Union Jack/Butchers Apron in their support? 

3.        Why did we have the diabolical scenario of died in the wool socialists and right wing Scots Tories tactically voting for their hated adversaries merely to stop the rising tide towards Independence?

For the answer to these anomalies, Bunty and I have come to the conclusion that not just in the U.K. just now but across the globe generally there is a drift to the right and a haemorrhaging of care in society. 

In the U.K. but predominantly in England, this rise of the right is appearing to manifest itself in a form of xenophobia with the populace ire being directed towards "immigrants". This patently manifested itself in "Brexit". Scotland is by nature a "left of centre" country yet we too have inexplicable anomalies in voting patterns.

However that does not wholly explain the transfer of votes from left to right wing in political terms, and why people who are very, very far from being archetypal Tories in terms of income and wealth status are flocking to vote for the Boris Johnson version of Toryism..

Could it then be; A fundamental need for people to feel superior to someone else irrespective of how irrational it is in real terms?  

Think of the rise of the Third Reich in the 30's!  Not all Germans were fundamentally Nazi in outlook, but a combination of the global economic collapse and the Wall Street Crash allied to crippling reparations from WW1 had a domino effect on the population of an entire country.

This financial catastrophe had the German people looking for someone to blame, and the right wing of the new Weimar pointed to the Jews, Catholics, gypsies, homosexuals and anyone perceived to be less of a human than the "ruling" elite.

Back to the U.K. then !

Under this Tory Government (and earlier ones too!) we've had over a decade of "austerity" in which the cuts occasioned by their austerity programme have all been aimed not at the rich, but at those who depend on social security,  PIP benefits, working tax credits, incapacity benefit, unemployment benefit, job seekers allowance, housing benefit, universal credit etc;

Then ally all those perceived drains on the national economic purse to the equally illogical perception amongst the alleged "working class" (who are working themselves but for a pittance) that immigrants are flooding the straits of Dover in dinghy's to allegedly milk the system and you have a mirror of the situation in the Weimar Republic after the Wall Street Crash. Someone to blame after all !

Toss into the equation Covid and the pandemic and you have a truly poisonous brew. 

No mention whatsoever about the alleged corruption of Government contracts in which the coterie of Johnson's cabinet colleagues were dispensing multi billion pound contracts without tender !

Fortunately Scotland had sufficient support for the SNP to overcome the diabolical tactical voting and a proportional representation system (D'Hondt) which specifically is meant to ensure no party overwhelms the system.  Had the Holyrood election been held under the "First Past the Post" system as in Westminster, The SNP would have had 109 seats out of 129. Now that truly would have been a mandate for not just a referendum but a declaration of Independence !!

A final thought on this whole farrago is that Democracy will win out in the end and despite the Mainstream Media attempts to muddy the waters, Scotland will be a nation again and we are not despite what my colleagues and friends down south may or may not think a mere region of England

SAOR ALBA !

A Delhi Vista on my own !

 My sight-seeing tour of Delhi starts with the rickshaw ride to the India Gate a 1st World War memorial for less than a dollar. The journey takes about an half hour and although comfortable isn't a word I'd use to describe the ride in a rickshaw, it does the job since it can weave in and out of the traffic like someone (other than John Sargeant) on "Celebrity Come Dancing"! 

Next I head to Houma Yun's Tomb where out of a Delhi population of almost 14 million, my name is called out as I go through the turnstile (having paid full whack despite saying in Hindi that I'm Indian), the locals get in for 4% of the cost of foreigners. It's Barbara from Detroit, and she too is doing her own thing this weekend. However, she's staying in hotels and getting pampered too. The odds of meeting someone you know with that size of population must be pretty high. 

Next stop on this mini weekend break since Amritsar was cancelled, is the Rhashtrapati Bhavan or parliament buildings and the President's official residence! All of which are down the road from where I'd started (India Gate), but the road is about a couple of Kilometres long and my knees feel as though they're due to seize! 

With a combination of my knees and my stomach thinking my throat has been cut, I decide to call it a day with a portion of meat to be washed down with a large coke (such simple pleasures are all I need just now!) Another rickshaw back to the area we live in and the driver is trying his hardest to get me into an emporium on the way back. Thanks but no thanks I tell him as I'm totally dog tired and just need to get back to base! He's a nice guy so I give him the 20 rupee tip as opposed his lost commission! 

Namaste

Cox & Kings tour? I don't think so Shanta, Laiah and I are not so extravagant

 Three of the mature American/Canadian/English women are planning to visit Jaipur this weekend and you can't help overhear the organising since it is done at the dinner table. It sounds like another Cox & Kings tour in terms of expense with 6,000 rupee ($120) taxis and hotel rooms to match! 

I'm not a gambler, but I'm willing to bet the kids and I get the whole weekend cheaper in Amritsar than their hotel for one night and we've a 6hr train journey each way with 2 nights hotel to boot. We're going to see the Golden Temple and then go up to the border with Pakistan to see the changing of the guard, leaving on Friday afternoon and returning on Sunday evening. Everyone is out this afternoon at a festival and craft fair, but since I need some WD40 on my knee joints, I elected to go to the local market and get measured for a tailor made suit (like Nehru's) the whole thing is costing me less than the taxi the women will pay for, so I get a suit for round about 80 GBP. Last night we had a thunderstorm which was the mother of all thunderstorms and rain to match, even in Nigeria this would have been a talking point. Some of the females slept through it, but initially I thought the equipment working on the Delhi Metro system close by had collapsed the noise was so loud. 

Barbara surprised even me in the class today as she's bought the successful student a watch and a belt for his success and had written him a congratulatory card. What's the odds on some more having a job interview before she leaves? Sorry to hear your weather is so crap, but if it's any consolation my tan is coming along nicely! 

Just a fairly routine day on Thursday, the teaching went reasonably well and the girls and I had an invite for drinks and snacks at the house next door to their apartment While down at the market in the afternoon, I was tempted by an offer on shirts;

Buy one get two free and a free gift.

As you all know I have an inexplicable penchant for shirts so found resistance futile, the free gift turned out to be a leather belt. I couldn't have bought the belt in Markies for the price of the whole deal, so you've guessed it, I now have another 3 shirts.

Since the girls and I were going for drinks to Mr Yethandra Jafa and his wife Mamta's in the evening I also bought a bottle for them. I didn't try to hide it since it was a gift for them not for my consumption! You'd have thought I tried to kill a cow from the reaction of one of the deputies. This did annoy me as I'm not a child and know the rules with regards to alcohol in the flats. If I had intended drinking in a corner quietly, I sure as hell wouldn't have left it on the dining room table in front of all and sundry. Somewhat chastened by the verbal assault he got about treating people like adults (since the Boss knew I was doing it), everything is back on an even keel today (Friday)

The trip to Amritsar is cancelled since we can't get seats on the train, so since the matronly types are off elsewhere (to 4 star hotels) this means there are only a few of us left in the flats. This will mean we can go out on the town for a bit of sight seeing (and there is plenty to see in Delhi), and get a fancy meal somewhere in the posh end of town. Shit I may even have a vodka or three!

Yesterday while having my now bi-daily shave with a cut-throat razor, a guy who was totally out of his box on whatever, started giving the barber a hard time about something which I couldn't make out since the whole thing was conducted in Hindi, but I did hear the word Police and the barber pointing to me. I'm guessing he told the balooka I was a chief constable or something suitably impressive, as the potential blackguard backed off calling me officer. The truth is I wouldn't have clocked him anyway as he was totally out of his skull and had a wee kid in tow (who started crying because his father was a moron). They'd come from the tents (made from tarpaulin) across the road and if I had to live there I guess I too might have been legless!

Delhi is a kaleidoscope of noise, traffic, dusty streets and the occasional elephant, and has a population more than 3 times the whole of Scotland. Your senses are put through a high speed mixer every day and by the time we finish dinner in the evening there isn't really much you either can or want to do! Last night though was a very pleasant interlude with company outside the volunteers (except the girls and they are refreshingly good company) in another house!

I can't believe it is a quarter way through my period here already, but it is and Barbara leaves next week so I'll be back on my own with the students and will have to do more preparation for lessons than the winging style I'd thought would get me by!

Namaste Mera Dostes

The "Boy" done good ! More Delhi memories !

 Our young student who had the interview for a job yesterday has been successful, and everyone in the class is delighted for him! Although in one respect I'll be sorry that he's leaving, as he is (as they all are!) a charming young man with a reasonable command of English. Barbara set them all homework which made them do complete sentences using various synonyms. They had to use at least 12, and if they didn't hand it in after this last weekend I'd said they had to do 24 by the next day. 

Needless to say they had all accomplished their targets by this morning. (Rotten teacher!!) On the plus side they've all started to come in early which the Director is overwhelmed with. In case we forget how hard the Indians work, Guldeep is earning about $200 a month for working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week selling lap-top computers for Samsung. In the afternoon all the females went out to see temples/mosques. Hindu, Sikh and Muslim respectively, I ended up doing some shopping for good quality notebooks for these students, and at Barbara's insistence some cookies! She can't get the giving part out of her head (Bless her!), but in reality it isn't helpful for future volunteers as the staff at CCS had made so clear at the outset.

Random memories omitted from earlier posts;

• 5 people on a motorcycle
• motorised rickshaws with up to 7 people crammed inside
• no sign of road rage by anyone, in traffic that defies description
• camel driven carts in Agra
• more Royal Enfield motorcycles than you can shake a stick at
• generosity/kindness when you have little or nothing
• lorries whose load looks anything but secure
• monkeys galore in Agra & Fatehpur Sikri (one though an unfortunate victim of the roads)
• every meal being like going to an Indian restaurant with mates (well half of them!)
• the dhobi-wallah (laundryman) has to put hot cinders into his iron to work it, and he does this with his bare hands, since he has no electric iron for his ironing

This coming weekend the youngsters are going to Amritsar to see the Golden Temple (The Sikh equivalent of the Vatican), so I'm off with them! The others seem to be planning a visit to another hotel, in Delhi this time. Why put in for this volunteering if you can't let a weekend go without some form of luxury?

We've all been divided into teams and have a topic each relating to Indian culture, which we have to give a talk on next Monday. Our teams topic is #Dowries and arranged marriages#. On the topic of female emancipation (?) there's been a big stooshie in the papers for the last 3 weeks as a group of religious males took it upon themselves to beat up some women who'd gone to the pub in Mangalore! The women concerned weren't even single fished! What chance of this in Union Street?

The Taj Mahal and travelling to Agra by car - Delhi Pt 7

 The weekend starts very early indeed as I'm up at 5a.m. since the car to take us to Agra is scheduled for 6a.m. The roads are relatively quiet when we set off, however, at the first intersection underneath a flyover, I'm incredulous to see two elephants being walked by their mahouts through the junction. Lumbering but gently padding their way underneath this highway flyover. The first ones I've seen but I'm sure it won't be the last. 

The journey to Agra is broken up with a stop at the Indian equivalent of a motorway service station but with souvenir shops. Two of the women shop and Cindy (the attorney) and I just have coffee and a nicotine fix. It took us about six and a half hours to reach Agra which is a real bummer as it's only about 350kms from Delhi and ostensibly connected by a highway (?). We'd intended going to Fatehpur Sikri this afternoon and then going back to the hotel to book in, however, it appears that the monuments are closed there for a VIP visit, so we went to the Red Fort at Agra and the mini Taj Mahal (it was built before the real one and the basis of it). Both are impressive in their own way and are duly photographed to death for posterity. 

Back to our hotel and mistakenly I left the arrangements to the ladies. This was a mistake since we're booked into a 4 star hotel with attendant prices, I'm beginning to wish I'd gone with the youngsters to the foothills of the Himalayas. A feeling of frustration with their (the mature female American type) attitude is descending on me as I can't really handle the way they're dealing with the trip. This isn't a rose scented place and you can't expect to buy your way out of situations. You can of course throw money at everyone, but it just makes you look stupid. In this respect these ladies of a certain age are excelling themselves. One who shall remain anonymous has more collagen than a single factory can produce and notwithstanding the trout pout, the oriental expression where the facelift has been applied has me struggling not to stare rudely and I'm sure the Indians are equally agog. Mea culpa, I've taken this a bit far! 

The fact remains that on the tour with the guide (which they over-paid), I just went off and did my own thing as I can get myself around without having an army of hawkers following me as the ladies are having, since they're seen as an easy touch! It's easy to say no thank you my friend without too much ado, and if it's accompanied with a look of some anger (not genuine), the these people will leave you alone and go and look for some other gullible punter. The night in the hotel was nice if over-priced as it came in at $140 plus tax, and although the bed and the bath were nice, I have to say that the youngsters apparently had a better time in the foothills of the Himalayas and had a whole lot more for infinitely less, with no hassle and a 1st class train journey with meals et al. Never mind it can only get better! 

Sunday morning I can't believe I said it can only get better, but enough of that later. We did go to the Taj Mahal early in the morning (which was Cindy's idea and a good one to boot). The pictures you see of the TM are beautiful, but the reality is infinitely more than merely beautiful. I can, hand on heart, say I've never seen anything remotely close to the Taj Mahal for breath-taking beauty and in the early morning light it radiates to a ghostly marble/ivory. The gardens too are formal and spectacularly well maintained. The seat where Princess Diane was seated for the photograph she had taken is there for all to use, but I bet she didn't have to go on a six and a half hour drive to get there. I'm not going to bore you to death with statistics, on it's construction or the rationale behind it, suffice to say it blew me away and I'm a cynical old fart. 

Just one thought, Aurangzeb the 4th son of the man who built it, Shah Jahan, turned out to be a right tosser as he killed his 3 elder brothers and imprisoned his father with his father's prison facing the monument he'd built for his wife Mumtaz. With family like that who needs an enemy? In the early afternoon we got into the two sites at Fatehpur Sikri which is about another 30kms from Agra, and the whole set-up there is more impressive than beautiful, and it's scale has to be put into context of being something like square miles. As it's Sunday, there are families galore out at the sites part of which is the fact that you can go into the holy chamber and tie a piece of cotton to the ornately carved windows inside the chamber which according to legend (or gimmick for tourists) will get you a wish granted. You're allowed 3, one for yourself and two for others/family! I think there must be more than a gimmick involved as the throngs of worshippers who pack this chamber are a combination of Sikhs, Hindus and Muslims. I guess it is like going to Lourdes for Catholics except you have to remove your shoes and socks and wash your hands prior to entering and must wear a head covering which is like the traditional muslim cap. Sightseeing over, we have to set back on the journey to Delhi (not an inviting prospect), the ladies have dispensed more cash than the Brinks Matt robbers in their attempt to write off poverty in India, but it is only those who have been persistent (and there's plenty!). Virender the driver takes us on a fairly quiet route interspersed with town/villages and as it's Sunday their markets are open and business is brisk as a result of which our progress through these towns is pretty slow. You can and will see a lot of poverty all around you in such circumstances, but for god's sake don't wind down your electric window of the posh car you're in and point your camera at the people snapping like some demented paparazzi. Even the poorest person has feelings and you don't have to be rich to be sensitive! This was more than a little annoying to me as these poor people are not animals in a zoo, to be photographed as though they were. I made this point as several of the people on the roadside were justifiably annoyed at this intrusion on their life (poor or impoverished as they were). The trout pout maintained she didn't think of them as animals in the zoo, but her photographing them in this manner indicated otherwise. Perhaps I'm getting too easily annoyed with this form of American tourism, but it is getting on my knockers and I do feel for the local Indians. When we got back it was straight to bed as the journey back was even longer, 7 hours this time! Monday morning and this is the first time we got to meet the youngsters and they've had a ball! God how I wish I'd gone with them, but hey hoh, I've seen the Taj Mahal and any future trips will be by train and if not with the youngsters (whose parents should be very proud of them as they are absolute gems) then I'll go alone. Back at work on the Monday and one of the guys in our class is going for an job interview this afternoon, I spend some time with him such that he can do his interview in either Hindi or English. I'll see tomorrow if he's successful, I hope so! In the afternoon I decide to have another cut throat razor shave but this time in the street (when in Rome do as the Romans and all that), in any event two young journalists approach me in the barber's chair and ask if they can interview me as the sight is obviously unusual (i.e a foreigner having a shave in the street), they can but only when he's stopped shaving me! The article is entitled The Hindustani Scot. We shall see if and when it is published in a local paper. Although he must have been serious as there is photographs taken to go with it! Fame at last (I don't think so)

Another close shave - Delhi pt 6.

 Why am I regurgitating these posts from 11 years ago? A couple of reasons; firstly they are a reminder of a period in time where I was truly  at peace with myself having curtailed the "Rat Race" of the Oil Industry and decided that I wanted to do something for reasons other than selfish. Secondly, it brings back memories of a period in time where I spent time with a genuinely beautiful people (The people of India) and finally as a sort of condensing of the two blogs I've toyed with over the years !  

NAMASTE !! 

Getting to the HLC this morning was worse than ever as the traffic had ground to a halt and the journey which normally would take 15 mins took about 40, but there is Sufi (Indian) music on the car stereo so I'm cool with the transcendental effect by the time I get to the class. In any event all the guys in the class are equally late with the traffic and they have to come by bus which looks like a human sardine tin when you pass (?) it!

I decide that since Barbara is teaching teachers today I'll do a resume of the weeks work to make sure they all understand what we've been trying to achieve, and glory be they do, so we must be doing something right. Back for lunch and an early afternoon meeting to see if everything is okay with the volunteers by Bela the Country Director! It certainly is for me as the environment couldn't really be better, there were a couple of wee things needed sorting for the more mature ladies, but by and large it is going swimmingly.

Tomorrow there are 4 of us going to Agra, to see the Taj Mahal and Fatehpur Sikri so we're going to book into a hotel and pig out on the necessary luxuries in life (i.e. a beer and a shower where you don't have to use a bucket). We should be back by Sunday night and work on Monday morning again to review the homework the guys have been given. There is a second meeting to work on some of the projects that the ladies are doing with the kids, but since I'm working with 16-23 year olds, the idea of cutting out shapes is not on my agenda! 

I take myself off to the salon for another cut-throat razor shave, if only such a thing were available in the Stoney barbers!

The idea of Indian food for breakfast, lunch and dinner is catching on with me and touch wood, there is no sign of the dreaded Delhi Belly. My boiler/stomach is (touch wood) doing the business.

There is a slightly worrying development, I'm beginning to take an unnatural interest in cricket as whenever the guys who work for CCS are loose, the cricket is on the t.v. and disconcertingly I'm enjoying it as well as the vegetarian menus.

Roland pays a late night call to the flat and I'm designated to get rid of him (Delhi pt 4)

 Late last night Roland made an unsolicited call to the flat I'm in and decided to help himself to Shanta's Ferrero Rocher chocolates and he also scoffed her Cheez-its without so much as a please may I help myself. I guess he can't help himself, since Roland is as you've probably guessed is a rat! He's a handsome rat but a rat none the less and is in Shanta's suitcase helping himself to her chocolates and cheese savouries! He must think he's just checked into the Waldorf Astoria, and been given the freedom of the food hall. By the time I get dressed and shoes on my feet, the girls and I decide to get him into a jug, put a lid on it and let him go out the veranda door. This rat isn't going to leave this haven of food excellence without a struggle though and scarpers under Erin's bed. You have to admire his persistence, but I'm not going to kill him as they would never forgive me! When we lift the bed he makes a dart for the lounge but the floor is marble and he's skidding around like a cartoon character and turns into the kitchen. I still can't get near him but at least we know where he is. He's parked himself in the cupboard with the gas canister and we can't shut the door as there's a hose leading to the cooker(?). The only solution is to lock him in there and get the staff to get him tomorrow as it their role. He's obviously had his fill and is struggling under the weight of chocolate and cheesy bits he's scoffed. Shanta has to check out the rest of her suitcase but there is nothing else we can do, so everyone has their room door closed tightly and unless he can slither under a 2mm gap, we're okay for the night. Back to school this morning and Babs and I have another good day with our pupils, I'm really learning a lot from her and can put it to use when she goes in two weeks. Yesterday we set them homework by writing down three questions and which they had to write the answers to and speak in front of the class this a.m. with their answers. One of the questions was who is the most interesting person you've met and why? Dear readers I cannot tell a lie, four of them said I was and it would bring tears to a glass eye! 

It was genuinely unsolicited and moved me. Now all you guys who know me, will be saying the plonker's lying! Not so and I'm genuinely moved as the reasons were more to do with their being stimulated by our lessons! No compulsory lessons today so I decide to go for the tattoo that I've promised myself. Some of the girls wanted to come along, but in the end only Lindsay can, so we get a rickshaw to the market area where this tattooist is supposed to be based. Lindsay notices a sign and we think I've got it cracked. Wrong!! There's a telephone number which I have to call and he tells me he'll be round in half an hour! When he gets round he suggests we go to our address to do the tattoo. Not a chance so he does it in the back of his van (which has no engine and is merely an advertising tool). The upshot is that after haggling, I tell him that if I like it I'll pay X and if I don't I'll pay Y. It's agreed and he sets to work, I can't believe I'm having this tattoo done in the back of a wrecked van which can no more move than fly. Lindsay takes some photos and when I get some technical advice I'll stick them up somewhere (No not there! on the site.) In any event the dye is cast and the deed is done, so I'm now sporting a Sanskrit tattoo which says Mother India! This city is chaotic with cars, scooters, rickshaws, buses and lorries all honking their horn at every opportunity and in most cases just to make a noise! The fact is though I'm loving it! The experience that is!

 The paradoxes of Indian culture are extreme, but the people genuinely kind, and hospitable. The kids in the class all want to take me home to their families, but shit I'm only here for 8 weeks and the first one is almost gone already. This weekend there's 4 of us going to Agra, but we have to take a car at 6a.m. on Saturday morning to get on the road before the traffic gets too much, and we'll check into a hotel for a night and then drive back on the Sunday. At least this way we can get a drink in the hotel! I'm looking forward to it (not the 3 hour drive) but the visit to the Taj Mahal and the other sites in Agra.