Navadwipa - by Ishaan

Last night Uncle Prani came to visit, all the way from Christchurch. He's not actually my uncle, but he may as well be, he's known me and been part of my life with the Hare Krsnas since I was just a young'n. It was nice seeing him over my side of the world - someone familiar from home. Plus, he bought chocolate with him.

He needed to pick up a few things from Navadwipa and asked if I could go with him - seeing as I was considered a local now - and I agreed. We were there for a little over an hour... thank god it didn't rain!

Some photos are blurry - Ishaan hasn't quite understood how the camera works yet.

The boat taking us across Ganga

Arriving at Navadwipa

With Uncle Prani on the rickshaw

A grey view heading back to Mayapur

Tailor made

So things work a little differently here. I wear a sari every day, or a skirt at least. I can't show anything above my ankles, or my shoulders, or god forbid my *ahem* chest area... so I wear a sari with a choli. A choli is the little tops we wear with the saris, the ones with little sleeves, but that cut off underneath the bust area. The choli usually matches the sari, either in the same colour, a contrasting colour, or even sometimes the exact matching fabric. Matching a choli to your sari is an art I think.. haha and something I get really particular about sometimes.

Me with my many cholis. If I have no choli that matches, I wear a black or white one.

So thats where the tailor comes in. I can't just go down to the local Glassons or Just Jeans and buy me a choli, NO NO NO. Instead I call my tailor and he comes to my house, measuring tape in hand. When I say my tailor, I just mean the one I usually deal with, the one I find that makes my cholis just right. Sometimes if he continuously gets it wrong, I might change tailors... but for now this one is fine.

So first I show him the sari that I want it to match, and then tell him the colour I want the choli to be. If I can't provide the fabric, he'll head to Navadwipa in the next few days and get the colour I want. I give him a sample of a choli that already fits me perfectly and tell him to make the new one exactly the same. I have to repeat myself over "Avryting zactly sam, na? Sleve sam lent, back same saize, sam avryting. Sam sam Avryting ookey?" Thats my Banglish (Bengali-English) accent in case you're wondering. They only seem to understand you if you speak like that. You really do have to make sure they know though, otherwise if you miss something out, the choli will come back with a slightly longer sleeve, or the back will be lower than the sample you gave him... Not to mention sometimes it takes days for him to bring it back to you, and you have to call him and keep calling him aaaaah its a disaster!

But what am I talking about, sometimes they actually DO get it right. And then I hand over my Rs70 and sport my flash new choli the next day. Cheap as chips for a choli made to fit just me. Not only that, I didn't even need to leave my house to get it!

The tailor doesn't just make cholis by the way. He can also make tailored-to-you punjabi tops (red one worn by my mother here - her top was NOT tailored by the way, I think she just bought it from the shop! god forbid!), last week he made bolster and cushion covers for our apartment... and even he can also make dresses or pants, as long as you give him a sample. Last month I gave him a sample for a cute little dress for a two year old and got him to make two dresses from the sample, only one had to fit a four year old. I provided the fabric, cuz I was picky, but they turned out great! Speaking of which - Jen have you got them yet? Do they fit the girls?

Maybe I can bring my tailor back with me to NZ?

New apartment

Today is 2 weeks since we've been in our new apartment, and I thought I'd better update and post photos before the time comes to move out again!

We're only here for 2 and a half months. The apartment belongs to Sri Balaram and his wife Balaram Priya (I know, hold off on the similar name jokes, they've heard it all!) and they've gone to Russia for the summer. In the meantime, they said we can stay here... which is brilliant cuz its nice to sometimes just have your own space.

Its a small place, just two bedrooms, but they have their stuff in one of the bedrooms, which we keep closed off, so essentially its just a one bedroom place for us. Its all we need, and its a nice cosy wee place.

The moving van

The view into the lounge from the front door. The door on the left goes out to the balcony and the door straight ahead is the kitchen. The bedrooms/bathroom are to the right.

The view of the lounge from the kitchen door.

The curtains are closed to block out the heat of the summer sun.

Our bedroom. My bed on the left, Ishaan's on the right. See the lack of blankets? Thats cuz its just SO DARN HOT right now! Luckily this room has AC for when it gets unbearable, though we've only used it once since we've been here...

Our balcony. And the view.

The maid was mopping the floors so I couldn't get the hallways or the other bedroom and bathroom. I'll post more photos soon.

Foodaholic

At work Jala and I ogle over sites like foodgawker.com and tastespotting.com. Okay fine we don't do it at work, we do it at home... but then at work all we can talk about is the sites we saw and the recipes we wanted to make.

SO I've decided to try my hand at cooking. Yes yes, I actually DO know how to cook (for those of you that have tried my cooking, back me up here!?) but lets just say I stick to what I know and nothing else. I know I can make a pretty good lasagna if I really want, but what about stir-fry with peanut sauce, or passionfruit cheesecake? I'm sure if I found the right recipe (egg-less and meat-less!) I could make it no problem.

So instead of just talking about it, I'm gonna do it. Cook new things I mean. Moving to India has already pushed my boundaries and me outside my comfort zone, why not keep going and try the cooking thing.

Follow me as I spill my way through the kitchen.

And when I get back we can have a dinner party dah-lings... and I shall cook you all a meal so delicious you'll want to come live with me.

My first project - Mango cupcakes!! mmmmmmm

End of the school year

So its the end of the school year - the kids last class will be this Thursday, and then six weeks of holidays. Now I know what mothers mean when they make that face when they're talking about their kids on summer holidays. AAAAHHHH!! Ishaan will be looked after by my mama's maid while I'm working over the holidays... he starts back in August.

This morning I was given his report card, plus they had a small presentation at the mornings assembly. Ishaan was the last to be called up in his class and he bounded up to his teacher, skipping all the way. Everyone then laughed when Rachel told them his certificate was for always being enthusiastic to learn. Thats my boy... always jumping up and down and excited about something or other.

class photo

Earthquake!

Last week Ishaan came up with a terrible hoarse cough, so Thursday and Friday saw us home from school and work, resting up well.

Thursday at 1.04pm, I was sitting on the bed reading a story to him, and all of a sudden we both stopped, and I looked up at the fan. Sure enough it was swinging slightly, enough to confirm for me what I had already suspected. EARTHQUAKE! It was just a small one, in fact later I found out it was a magnitude 4.4, with the epicentre in Bangladesh. I'm used to everything rattling and things falling off shelves, and that heart-stopping fear was something that was all too familiar for us both.

In light of the earthquake that seemed to follow me to India, I thought I would share a small piece I wrote after the February 22nd earthquake in Christchurch.


"1st March 2011. Everyone has a story. Some involve death, some involve falling buildings on top of them, some involve saving someone’s life or even your life being saved. But everyone’s story has the same pain, emotion, horror, panic and disbelief, and it is with those things that we all have a bond now that will never be broken. I was in the Christchurch Earthquake of February 2011, and I survived. You too? Wasn’t it devastating? Where were you when it happened?

I was at work - in a large warehouse in Sydenham, home of Four Corners NZ. Sitting peacefully creating jewellery in a comfy big office chair, listening to the Ghost Brothers on my iPod, and looking forward to lunch at 1pm. We all froze when it first started - was it just another small aftershock - looked at each other and paused for all of about a split second... and made a run for the door. The mechanic on the corner of Stanley Street and Colombo Street has panels of glass at the top of their garage – not anymore. The noise of those glass panels made my heart stop. It was a bit of a blur really, parked cars were moving, people were crying and running everywhere, alarms and sirens going off, water pipes bursting in the road, frantically texting and calling anyone and everyone we could. Nothing was connecting... is Ishaan okay at kindy? Is the Hare Krsna temple okay... what about the Deities?

It took me 45 minutes just to get out of Sydenham. I left work about 1.30pm, and headed the usual way home. Naive of me – I didn’t realise the enormity of the situation. Detour after detour, bumper to bumper traffic, and moving at 3km/hour. At first I tried taking little side streets to avoid the backed up traffic, but every street I turned, the packed cars were there. No trying to find a shortcut... everyone wanted out. Tried calling Kindercare again to get hold of Ishaan. No answer.

Every so often I would glance down a main street towards town – Colombo street, Manchester Street, Tuam Street, Cashel Mall. Everywhere I looked, the streets looked like a war-zone. “I wonder if there will be any deaths in this one” I thought.

My answer came soon enough. At first I didn’t believe she was actually dead, just someone injured. Why was no one helping her? She wasn’t moving, just lay peacefully, almost as if sleeping. The rubble and concrete slabs around her seemed unnatural. Then, admist the alarms, sirens, sobbing and crying, I heard a pierced scream and saw someone throw themselves on the body. Was she alive? I watched closely for any sign of life, but the non-stop wailing of her friend/partner/colleague/stranger were not comforting for me. Reality of the situation was fast becoming apparent. An aftershock suddenly rocked the city, my car swayed and rocked, bricks fell from the building to my left, and the image of pedestrians shocked and panicked faces is imprinted in my mind.

The traffic in front of me had moved considerably, I guess I’d been too distracted to move. I took advantage of the gap in traffic to slip into the next road and turn down a side street. I don’t care if I meet another traffic jam, I just couldn’t be anywhere near the city buildings and see destructiveness and horror like I’d just seen. I tried to get through to Kindercare again, the number still wouldn’t connect.

My main focus now was getting to Ishaan, though this proved harder than I thought. Buildings were still tumbling in all directions, people crying everywhere, ambulances and fire engines flying past all the time. Detours throughout the city meant I ended up in Avonside Drive, an area scattered with road cracks, burst water pipes and liquefaction the caused problems for almost every car that drove down it. Thank god for my full time 4WD!

Three hours and three closed bridges later, I decided to just abandon my car by one bridge, and just walk the 15 blocks to Kindercare, though I had no clue what to do once I got there. Two blocks down the road brought me to an older lady simply sitting in her car, stunned, not doing much at all. I stopped to check she was okay, and if she needed any help.

"I'm not sure. All I know is I need to get to Wainoni Road, on the other side of the bridge"

Her face had this faraway look, like she was dreaming of a place that did not include horror like the day had delivered.

"I can't really face the long drive to find a safe route home. I mean who knows if any bridges at all are even open!"

The solution came to us both at the same time and without skipping a beat, we offered each others cars to one another. After exchanging names and phone numbers, we quietly drove off in our respective directions, not only happy to have some sort of transport to get home and get to our loved ones, but glad to have been there for each other.


My story could go on forever. How I got to Ishaan and he told me the wiggly wobbly made him fall off the slide. How we then went to the temple and sobbed for the loss of the building and, more heartbreakingly, our beloved Nitai Gaurachandra. How it took us another hour to get home – a home with no power or water. How we then spent the evening at our neighbours house, provided with a lovely cup of hot chai by another neighbour, made on a small gas camping cooker. How texts and calls were coming in from all over the world to check I was okay.

But my story is insignificant compared to some. Because I am okay, my close friends and family have all been accounted for, my home is undamaged. Some people aren’t so lucky, and its them I’m thinking of, its them my heart goes out to. My darling friend Brooke is still waiting and hoping for a miracle for her best friend Adam, still missing... and I hope and pray with her. And she isn’t the only one... I hope and pray for the 155 people confirmed dead, and the many many others still missing. I hope and pray for my amazing Hare Krsna temple to rise up stronger and even better than before. I pray and hope Sri Sri Nitai Gaurachandra with show us Their beautiful smiles again.
Today marks a week since our lives have changed. I stood in silence alongside Police Officers in Papanui as the whole city came to a standstill at 12:51pm, and heard quiet sobs and choked tears come from the most strongest of men.
Kia kaha Otautahi (Be strong Christchurch)."

Visit to the elephant park

We often spend time watching the elephants, usually on a Sunday cuz thats when we visit Uncle Jaya at school. Last week when we came to visit, the mahouts (elephant-keepers) came and opened the gates up for us so we could watch them having a bath and getting fed. This week was the same, only this time I brought my camera along too. I'm glad I did =)

Kolkata

We just got back from an interesting couple of days in Kolkata. Mama had been talking about going there for ages cuz she wanted to get curtain material for the house, and wanted to get my opinion on them... and Pita needed to go pick up some train tickets for South India. So after organising to stay in Sadbhuja's house in the city, early Thursday morning saw us on the boat headed to Navadwipa to catch the train.

Taking a train in India is an experience in itself. When the train arrives at the station, there is a mad rush of people jumping on and off (while the train is still moving I might add) and everyone is pushing and shoving to stow their bags away and get a good seat. Well get a seat at all in fact. We were lucky in that is was 7am and Navadwipa was one of the first stops on the way to Howrah (the train station in Kolkata) so we got great seats by the window, and no one had to sit on anyones lap! Ishaan made a wee friend who was sitting behind us, and we shared our fresh cut cucumber with him on the way. about 2 hours into the trip, about an hour away from Howrah, Ish suddenly announced he needed to do number twos... and guess what, no toilet on the trains. Pita heaved a big sigh and picked Ishaan up and headed for the door. I'm not sure what he was going to do - hold him over the side while the train is moving? Hmmm. Then after about ten minutes, there was shuffling and movement in the carriage - we was approaching Howrah, a whole hour earlier than we thought, and it was time to get off.


After we shoved and pushed our way off the train, and through the hoards of people in Howrah railway station, we took the ferry across the Ganga. We then hailed a taxi and headed to Govinda's Restaurant for lunch, the Hare Krsna restaurant in them middle of Kolkata. This restaurant is well known for its cakes and desserts, and I wasn't about to pass up a chocolate mousse or caramel pudding!

And then on to the big stuff. Pita took Ishaan back to Sadbhuja's house where we would be staying the night, and mama and I continued on to Newmarket. Newmarket is just what the name suggests, a market. Its a good place to get anything really, cloth, saris, clothes, mehendi on your hands, braid, jewellery, hair clips, even curtain fabric! We found the shop we were looking for, someone had suggested it to us - and took the next few hours to decide on the final material for the curtains. And then of course it took another few hours just to explain to the people in the shop how we wanted the curtains made and what sizes and what lining and where to deliver it to when they were done. Phew. Mission accomplished.

After the curtains were done and dusted, mama and I took a walk through the markets themselves, and bought a few things here and there. I got some fabric for some new outfits for my tailor to make, and some braid to sew with.. and a few pieces of jewellery (how can I resist jewellery!).


I stopped by a man doing henna on people's hands, and asked how much for him to do some mehendi on my hand. My jaw dropped when he said Rs500. What EVER mister, I know its no more than about Rs50 for one hand! I shook my head in disgust and quickly walked on. It amazes me how they think they can cheat you our of a price just because you are western. I know Rs500 is only about NZ$15, but thats just a rip-off. And he knows it too.

We finally made it back to Sadbhuja's house at 8pm, our shopping bags dumped on the floor and we collapsed on the beds. Kolkata makes you exhausted even when you don't do much!

The next saw saw us back at Govinda's for a delicious lunch again, with dessert of mango cheesecake and chocolate cake MMMM. Kowhai when you come I'm telling you, we're going to Govinda's even just for the desserts!!

We stopped off at South City Mall, just to pick up some things from Spencers (kind of like Briscoes and The Warehouse and Woolworths all mixed in one big department store) and check out a few other shops - Radha's and Fab India. Walking around the mall, it felt like I was back in a western country, just "malling". BUt as soon as you walk into one of the shops, the service of the shopkeepers, the smell, the layout of the shop... it all just screams India. I just enjoy the AC.

Finally we were headed back on the train by 3pm. The train this time was full, and we only got enough seat space for two bums. Mama and I sat for the first half of the ride, and then me and Pita swapped and I stood for the rest of the trip. Ishaan wandered up and down the carriage, making friends and annoying the salesmen that wandered up and down continuously.

Oh yeah the salesmen, They are the funniest to watch, especially the ones that bring food with them. You'll get all sorts squeezing past passengers on the train... from hankerchiefs to cucumbers, cold icy-pop sluchy things, to a full peanut and chilli snack. They carry it all mostly on their heads and walk along calling out their wares in odd monotonous tones. "Thanda mago slushy thanda mango slushy..." "moori moori...masala moori masala moori.." "Chai chai...garam chai chai garam chai..."
(FYI- tahnda is cold, masala is spice, moori is a type of snack kinda like rice bubbles, but savoury and can be served in different ways, and garam is hot). We found one salesman who sold toys for kids, and odd things like safety pins, keychains etc. We bought a little water-game to keep Ishaan occupied.

By the time we got home at 6pm, we were tired, grumpy, irritated and felt grimy and stinky. But it was a fun trip.