The pace of rural Bengal

It is our second year of collaboration with the school at Kolaghat. We plan to meet the new batch of children of Class IX and their families, and also intend to catch up with the group whose education we “adopted” last year, and who will be facing their Board Examinations at the end of the session. 

 The speed of activities in this part of the world could rival a snail! We had thought that it would help the children if they were sponsored at the start of their academic session, now in January. But with one thing or another considered unavoidable, our scheduling keeps getting disrupted, pushed back to nearly the middle of the session. School and Board exams, paper corrections, election duties and government directives of school holidays, all take precedence. I begin to wonder whether there is a need at all for our kind of inputs in society. Perhaps we just fool ourselves that we make a difference in wanting to sponsor kids through high school!

  

 

When we finally set off for the school, the weather is hot, hot, hot. The fact that the weather seems to change so, must be due to global warming.  It is temperatures in the forties degrees Celsius, but we are not drenched in sweat as before. The weather patterns have changed noticeably. Humidity has come down; however, the thunder-squalls that we expect at this time to bring us relief from the heat, are no shows. The national highway on our route has a few diversions because of men at work on the asphalt. Still, without the continual traffic signal stops that are major impediments in the city, we make good progress. We thank our stars that it is the weekend and traffic is comparatively thin.

As we arrive in rural Bengal, it becomes easier to breathe. We leave behind the asphalt, but ‘roads’ become progressively narrower. The dirt roads of Kolaghat look bright red in the glorious sunshine. We slow down drastically, sometimes at speed no more than 2 Kmph and it takes us nearly an hour to travel about 15 Kms. We have to pass through the fish and vegetable marketplace that springs up every morning along the roadside.  Shoppers plant themselves on the road, and bend over to examine the merchandise. They are oblivious to traffic. We are greeted by this array of ‘hairpin bends’ that refuse to straighten up or move to let us through. Our persistent honking irritates, and some yell out that we go too fast, although we are literally standing on the brakes to avoid anything untoward.

A couple of times we have to back up to allow another vehicle to get by. Since the car obviously does not belong to the area, the locals want to make sure we do the reversing out of the way. A young man trying to get onto the wooden bridge first is distracted and topples over. He stares when he sees us and picks himself and his bicycle up quickly. Nevertheless, a crowd gathers around the car to shout insults.  They are a little nonplussed to see women in the car. The traditional respect for the sari kicks in and the usual aggressiveness towards outsiders peters out pretty quickly. It is good to see girls and women venturing out, riding bicycles. They jump in to tell off the men and our passage is immediately smoother! In two hours we are at our destination about 82 Kms away, in the Headmaster’s office, eager to get to work and do some good for the community with our perspective of educational support. 

Excitement with South Africa

South Africa has been much in the news lately. With elections in India the much-awaited second season of the Indian Premier League in cricket seemed in jeopardy. But then the management dramatically changed location and South Africa played host to an Indian domestic tournament. [Surprise, surprise, last year’s winners, Rajasthan Royals couldn’t make it to the knockout stage. Instead, wooden spoon holders Deccan Chargers won the tournament!]

In Pittsburgh where we are now, people are intellectually inclined. Here authors, actors, musicians, and politicians present themselves to the populace and many turn up to hear them speak, as in Carnegie-Mellon hall or in Heinz hall.

Sometimes the entry is free. At other times people get in on their seasonal tickets or stand patiently in the queue to do so after the paid seats are taken.

Pittsburgh is said to be a small town. [Its zoo certainly is. We saw about six elephants there – compared with the sixty thousand that are found in the African game reserves.] Still, there are six universities that, we’re told, receive healthy funding from wealthy and powerful community groups.

We went to Carlow University to view a documentary on the South African judicial system. During Apartheid the regulation of laws was conducted entirely by white males. There were no women on the judiciary until perhaps the ‘nineties. The film-maker, Ruth Cowan, has travelled to that country to record change in the present social scenario.

The dismantling of the erstwhile regime gave hope to women, both black and white. They have struggled to establish themselves, and today there are many donning the robes of judicial magistrates. The women have had to battle to be heard. When we wear the robes, they say, there no longer is any question of differences of gender and race.

Despite the power and prestige of their positions, the women don’t forget their roots. They return to their villages and blend into the community just as before. In fact many help the local councils dispense justice. All this, they say, has been made possible with the new constitution written in the last decade that bases on the 7 pillars of equality, democracy, respect, responsibility, diversity and reconciliation.

We, along with all those who attended the screening including American women lawyers and judges were immensely impressed with the intensity and conviction of the women in the film.

The continent of Africa is very large, and its populated area exceeds that of USA. South Africa is one of its 35 countries, and economically it is pretty advanced. It is also perhaps the only country in the world that has two Nobelists who resided on the same street!

African leaders including Nelson Mandela were incarcerated on Robbens Island, where those afflicted with leprosy were also banished. But there they formed the “University” whereby on the principle of each one, teach one, literacy was carried forward.

The African Safari is perhaps the best in the world. It rests on the big five – lion, elephant, leopard, rhino and buffalo. The city is westernized, but in the villages, as in many parts of the world, people live in thatched mud huts. A bachelor has no perimeters. As he marries and forms a family, he constructs a wall around his home.

But is the same attitude is really seeping into the fabric of society at large? Cities are not safe from robberies and car-jacking. 25-30% of the adults are afflicted with AIDS/HIV.

Perhaps the impact of change on people in South Africa is like the changing economy of India. You know it is there because the western world has noticed and raved about it. But among the general population of the country, the same sense is yet to arrive.

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Face from the past

In India, labour is cheap. Householders are able to hire domestic help and for many, these numbers are a status symbol. Women are beginning to have time on their hands. Some use it to enjoy the luxuries of affluence while others seek employment themselves to further the family economy.

Immigrant women and those in the mother country are thus faintly competitive with one another. One group is envied for the ‘luxury’ of cheap labour in the house. The other is envied for citizenship in the land of gadgets in plenty. To each, the grass on the other is far greener.

As a recent survey seems to show, despite emancipation, women today are not really as happy as they have expected to be.

Work is priority for the men in all cultures. Women have sought to be at par with men in the outside world. But they have been unable to shake the yoke of household responsibilities that still is solely theirs, even in plenty.

Women find it hard to balance home-life and work-life. Eventually the (immigrant) women feel forced to choose the home. It is a wrench for some mothers to give up their careers. The choice rankles, because they feel unsupported by traditions of the past, their men-folk and by their organizations to continue employment.

Still they sacrifice their own present for their children’s future. Hence there are comparatively few ‘latchkey’ kids in the immigrant community. If non-American born scholars are taking the honours at American institutions, it is because of, especially their mothers ensuring that the youth don’t become “delinquent”.
The success of the immigrant woman can be attributed to their support group, and the support is powerful. This is ‘sisterhood’ is uniquely with others in the minority community.

Among the immigrants, women step in to help one another in every possible way to ensure that the household runs smoothly and the children are adequately supervised. At parties, the invitees contribute with cooked dishes, sharing the kitchen burden between them.

I’m reminded of the elephant community where the newborn calf is surrounded by several mothers – its own as well as surrogates. In this circle of influence, the men usually remain on the fringes.

In Florida, we met with some members of the ‘sisterhood’. Esther is a pillar of strength for her friends in the circle. She herself is the mother of four, all of whom are now established in life. She has an ‘empty nest’ at home, but she fills it periodically with guests of her friends, and she looks after them as if they were her own.

But she is not constrained by the network of which she is such a prominent node. Esther is a ‘connector’. She is member of other circles too – like in a diverse group of women that gets together every week like a ‘kitty party’, not to gamble but to create little pieces of art, quilting and beading.

Quite by chance we discover a Kolkata connection - we went to the same school so many years ago. Time has made changes so we couldn’t recall each other’s faces but we remembered common friends, teachers and incidents that occurred then. And yes, she is still in touch with many of the characters I could remember! A face from the past sometimes brings great joy.

Cont'd...

Celebrity lights

Well, age has its pains, and ten-hour travel time by bus is not something we can do every day. So our adventures at the Orlando Disneyworld most stop for the moment.

Our sightseeing now includes visiting malls to admire the prices on designer-wear. We’re not surprised the outlet stores don’t have too many customers. Most people are attracted by the ‘sale’ signs, just as we (and women everywhere) are! Florida boasts of its greenery.

Paradise, some call it, especially because of its remarkably moderate weather. This winter however, it was freezing – global warming, we nod knowingly, makes the hot hotter and the cold colder.

In Coral Springs there are a few others sights to see. We go for a short evening cruise along the shoreline. The boat chugs slowly over the calm waters, and the breeze coming inland is cool.

The PA system belts out disco numbers and the boat’s passengers and the crew dance to the music. The lights, the sounds, the weather, provide a carnival touch.

Lights shimmer in the waters, and as the boat goes by, they too dance in unison. The region attracts many, some to reside in large private homes, and others to gawk at them.

Our guides tell us in English and Spanish that celebrities have made the coast their home - among them, Ricky Martin, Christina Aguilar, Elizabeth Taylor.

As true sightseers we stand and stare at the examples of opulence!

Cont'd...

Keeping culture alive

The gender division of labour is stark in the Indian immigrant society in America. Men are the breadwinners and often they are not even in town to be a part of the family. The kids are asked by curious schoolmates whether they have a father at all!

Women wear the pants in the house, so to speak. The home and the children is their universe and they rule efficienctly, adopting every available technological gadget to help them cope with their fast-paced adopted society.

Still, they are the custodians of culture.

We catch up with family members who fly in from all over to Florida’s Coral Springs. This has a purpose. We’re all invited to a cultural event – the arangetram – a recital of classical dance.

It is the ‘coming out’ of 18-year-old Sanjana, her graduation from the Bharatanatyam school that she has studied and practiced in for the last eleven or so years.

It has been labour – the long ride to Miami and back every other day, spending three hours on the road on each trip. And on returning home late night, burning the midnight oil to finish homework before school on the morrow.

In the immigrant community, tradition becomes the anchor. Parents realize that their children must grow in the interface between two dominant, dissimilar cultures. While they are aware that their children should socialize into the mainstream, the fear is of being engulfed by Americanization. Give up on the culture and you lose your self without a trace!

For the male children, it is important to socialize American. But in greater part, the girls are expected to retain touch with the traditional arts. In ratio, many more of them graduate in classical music and dance in the West than they do in the mother country India.

The immigrant exponents acknowledge, however, that as performers they generally are average compared with those graduating in India. Really, this is mainly because of the limited exposure they have.

In India, the both the quality of talent and of learning is superior. The culture abounds in every direction. Students there have a far closer association with the classical gharanas (schools), and the traditional masters. They are immersed in the arts consequently, and are able to imbibe its purity.



The girls have a grueling schedule where they are expected to shine in their studies as well as in the distinctive cultural activity. Initially it is tedium and they learn only because their mothers push them to.

But then, as their learning curve improves, they begin to actually value what they learn. They submit to the rigours of the 4-hour solo recital to prove their ability and perseverence in the arts, and to build their own self-esteem attempting to achieve a difficult goal.

My parents and relatives will always say I'm good, says Sanjana. I don't really believe that because they don't know much about the dance. At the recital, those who really know will be watching me, and if they say I'm good it definitely means a lot! As a result she's welcomed into the community - no longer is she an outsider.

Cont'd...

The Epcot adventure

Florida is awash with sunshine when we land there. It is a stark contrast to New York/New Jersey and discarding the heavy wear is certainly a relief!



You can’t come to Florida and not visit Disneyland, the 80-year-old reasons, what will people think? She has done the rounds before, but memory sometimes fails, so we need to consolidate remembrances.

It’s actually far from where we are located, but we plan on adventure. We decide to take a bus ride, at six-thirty in the morning. The bus has air-conditioning and the set temperature is cold for us. We brave it as best we can, since fellow passengers are dressed for warm climes and nobody’s complaining.

It’s a five and half hours stretch with one change of bus. For the elderly it is far too long. It’s not a happy thought that we have to repeat the experience on the way back. Food and drink is banned on the bus, so there’s little to do other than watch the onboard film. Disneyland is a city in itself. The tour operators drop off passengers at the various pavilions, so the distance seems to be never-ending.

Some passengers have brought valises; they’re going to stay over. We have opted for a day’s tour and it seems a mistake. But then we hear voices raised agitatedly – a couple of the valises have been misplaced! From the conversation we realize that, in the region, Spanish is spoken far more than is English.

Eventually we’re asked to disembark at a parking lot. Remember the number painted on the ground, says the driver, and be here by six. I understand, but where’s Disneyland?

We have a bit more to go – by monorail. We find the station and mount the ramp to the rail. This is by far the best part of the journey. We have a fine aerial view of the lush green surroundings. All too soon we’re at Epcot, which we understand, is dedicated to science. Security means that everything we carry is opened and checked.

There is quite a crowd, and so the lines move slowly, ponderously at each of the pavilions. The aisles created have the queues meandering from one side to another for quite a while. It takes at least twenty minutes simply to reach the entrance. Sometimes you find that you need to wait a long time before the gates open for the next batch of visitors. For the very young and the very old the walking and the waiting can be difficult, hence the strollers and motorised chairs.

The surroundings are meticulously maintained. In fact, the plant-life have been arranged according to colour. The splashes of reds, blues, yellows makes pretty pictures to please the eye.

We’ve reached about mid-day and realize that time, for us, is short. We must condense our visit into four hours. We start with Spaceship Earth. We sit in pairs in the cars that will take us away. We find a closed circuit screen before us, that tells us the story of our future. Yes, our faces appear on cartoon characters that enact the futuristic us…

But alas! The spell is soon broken. As luck will have it, a mechanical glitch develops and we’re stranded in the dark. We’re told to stay put. But clearly the efforts to re-start the journey fail. After about half an hour of waiting and wondering we’re suddenly brought out again to the harsh reality that perhaps our spaceship failed to take off!



The 80-year-old remembers how exciting it had been the last time she visited. Science sadly, isn’t able to save the day this time! Still there is much to see and learn. Land examines the ground beneath our feet and is dedicated to human interactions with the earth. As The Diva team we participating in the exercise to ‘reduce, recycle, reuse and recover the resource from the trash we create’. We get a certificate of achievement for thinking green. We miss out on Soarin’ (waiting is 114 minutes), so head into the seaworld of Nemo and Friends.

But there are many other pavilions – country themes, like China, Mexico, and Norway that bring the culture and architecture of the region. Ellen’s (Degeneres) energy pavilion is a travel through time to how we get fuel today. There is Innoventions that shows new ways of doing things for the future, like making music simply by waving hands.

The Imagination pavilion is high on entertainment. Honey, I shrunk the audience is a 3D film you watch with special glasses. Its special effects include the illusion of rats running into the audience! The What If labs from Kodak help people’s interacting with camera technologies, large and small. But all too soon it’s time to go. Definitely to remember the next time that Disneyland is over 4000 acres in area, and it needs time to cover all that space!

Cont'd...

The Brooklyn Trolley loop

Getting to the Brooklyn Trolley is tedious in terms of time. You have to cover about half of the downtown loop to the South Seaport stop. Today, we felt adventurous. The 80-year-old especially felt that just sitting in the bus was not enough anymore; we had to explore! We decided to combat the cold and hopped off the bus at Battery Park.

We clambered aboard the free ferry to Staten Island. This is located to the extreme southwest of the city and is one of the 5 boroughs, the others being Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, and the Bronx. The population of Staten Island is the least of them all. Inhabitants also call it the forgotten island, neglected by the government.




The ride is about twenty minutes to the St George Terminal on the island. The ferry is large and orange in colour. Streams of visitors move aboard and we go with the flow. We realize that the average American is comparatively large. From where we sit we see only people – our view is effectively blocked.

The 80-year-old is determined she’s not going to let the sights go by. She’s burdened by the heavy overcoat, but she still manages to get place by the railings to peer out between people for the first sight of the spectacular Statue of Liberty.

The ride on the waters of the New York Bay that separates the island from the mainland is gentle, peaceful. This is the weekend and plenty of folks opt to picnic. About the 17 century, the Dutch established trade on the island. Henry Hudson named it “Staaten” after the Dutch Parliament.

We get the north shore of the island and beyond the terminal the homes look different. They are large and Victorian. We can’t stay long, and take the next ferry back to the mainland. Strangely the bus we had hopped off has returned. The tour guide remembers us and greets us warmly. We hop off again to join the Brooklyn Trolley loop.

We’re getting hungry. While we wait we try a heart shaped pretzel. But these are rather large and frankly, not very tasty. My ethereal illusion formed from the old Neil Diamond song Crying in your Pretzels, seems to somehow lose its charm!




We board the bus, but on this route there is no open top. The tour guide says that Brooklyn is really a different country. Do you have your passports, she asks tongue-in-cheek. I nod vigourously. All the way from India, I affirm. (But of course, it’s all just kidding!)

Brooklyn is the most populous of the boroughs and the largest too. The Dutch were the first settlers here as well. The name ‘Brooklyn’ evolved eventually from the Dutch Breukelen. We cross over the Manhattan Bridge, which is flanked by the Brooklyn Bridge and the Williamsburg Bridge.

Brooklyn has its distinctive culture and architecture. It also has ethnic enclaves with demographic groups from various parts of Europe, Asia and Latin America.

We also realize that the tourists on the sightseeing buses are predominantly non-American. Asian and European visitors abound and in one tour count there are groups of people from Hungary, Switzerland, Austria, South Africa, India, China and Australia…We expect we have to continue on the downtown loop from South Street Seaport to get to Times Square. But we’re saved of further tedium as the bus then gets us there express.

On the tour buses the focus is now on tips. Tour guides now intersperse tip-raising plugs with historical facts. The tips they say are a part of the salary for the guide and the driver: In many cultures, offering money is considered an insult, but for us it’s a sign of appreciation…So please… Surely, never before have the people of USA been in such need of appreciation!

Cont'd...

The uptown loop in New York

The other attraction in New York is the saga of celebrities. On the uptown loop, these are pointed out to the tourists, with colourful anecdotes to make the point - the various Trump acquisitions and bankruptcy, the former apartment homes of Jackie Kennedy, Katherine Hepburn at Park Avenue, and others like John Lennon’s Dakota Apartment that inspired his writing of Strawberry Fields.

There are several parks on the island; among them the Central dominates. It stretches in a sprawling oblong of several hundred acres at the centre. The downtown loop shows you one side of it. On the uptown loop the bus travels all around it, east, north, west and south. The Park houses a couple of zoos. It also has conservatory gardens and the museums about the city’s history.

The areas around the Park also have very many museums, and to really explore their contents takes at least the whole day. These include the Smithsonian, Jewish Museum, Museum of Natural History, Metropolitan, the Frick collection, and others besides.

Between Central Park and the Hudson River is Harlem. We’ve heard about the neighbourhood before and its symbolizing ‘black’ power. Harlem, we understand, had Dutch and Spanish/Italian settlers (Al Pachino grew up here).

Around 1904, the ‘great migration’ caused the demographic dominance of African-Americans. In the 1920’s, the Harlem Renaissance led to the development of artistic black culture. As they moved in, many of the ‘white’ populations gradually left.

Harlem is the source of many protest movements as it becomes the ‘capital’ of black America in the ’30s and ’40s. We reminded of the rousing speeches of Martin Luther King, the music of Sammy Davis, the wit of Chevy Chase and many others besides.

But later we understand, the culture of the region began to slip and slide. Harlem became associated with poverty, slums and crime.

There is the Madame Alexander doll factory, which manufactures an abundance of toys. And the Apollo Theatre. We then head back towards Times Square along the southern border of Central Park. We notice again the Park Central Hotel and the Winter Garden Theatre. Walking back to the Pork Authority Terminus to catch our bus back to New Jersey, we see Madame Tussad’s Waxworks and Ripley’s Believe It or Not.

Cont'd...

The Grayline sightseeing service

The Grayline tour helps you to understand the New York City geography. The double-deckered bus is open-topped. The top provides sightseers a great view - weather permitting. When it turns cold, it needs a stout heart to withstand the icy winds.

The buses begin their run from Times Square, on 7th or 8th Avenues, between 40-47th Streets. The avenues and the streets cause confusion until you realize that the streets run parallel to each other, while the wider avenues cut through them.

You find the tour representatives at the street corners in red emblazoned jackets and you can buy the tickets from them by plastic card or cash. A 44USD ticket is valid all day – but a three-day ticket gets you a huge discount at 64USD.

The city can be covered in three loops – uptown, downtown, and Brooklyn Trolley. This last begins midway of the downtown loop, at the south seaport stop. The visitors can hop off the bus at any of the city landmarks and explore further. When they are done they return to the bus-stop to board the next bus coming along in 15-20 minutes.

We start with the downtown loop. While we wait we can see the snowflakes streaming down. It’s unusual weather, say the tour guides who have to position on the freezing top deck. We huddle in the lower deck but there is little we can see of the grand old buildings being pointed out and talked about. (The next day we brave the weather and, despite the cold, the sights are well worth the effort!)

We realize that ‘old’ is a relative term. USA is a very young country and her past is only about a couple of centuries old. Comparatively, Asian and European civilizations date thousands of years!

The Native American people were overwhelmed by new settlers who set about create trade lines to and from other continents. These people came predominantly from Europe. The Dutch quarter for instance, was made by seafarers of Netherlands who established a colony in the region.

The American city is built on business, and the towering skyscrapers bear witness to it. It became a corporate race to construct the highest building. The landmark Empire State Building beat out competition only by raising its 90 foot antenna!

Downtown is the land between two rivers, the Hudson and East that join around the statue of Liberty. The bus meanders through Broadway and the Theatre district. We see the shopping paradise of Macy’s and note the Madison Square Garden where so many musical greats have performed live. Between the buildings the antenna of the Empire State Building peeps.

Greenwich Village conjures the image of struggling artists. Then there is SoHo, which however, means southern housing and has little to do with London’s bohemian Soho district. We ass Little Italy, home to the Latin immigrants,and Chinatown, which speaks for itself.

Further down is Ground Zero, the site of the World Trade Centre. Many visitors drop off to pay their respects. Then we come to the Battery Park where there is a boat ride to the imposing Statue of Liberty, to Ellis and Staten islands.

The bus then turns to the South Street Seaport, where the Brooklyn loop can begin. We go on through East Village, along the East River to the headquarters of United Nations. The premises are surrounded by flags of all the member nations, 152 perhaps, and that’s an impressive number.

We turn north again to see Waldorf Hotel. Was it the Waldorf that burnt down, and resurrected as the Astoria, where the rich and famous visit? The names are much in the gossip news now with the case of the late Mrs Astoria being defrauded by her son for his wife. We head further to the Rockefeller Center and eventually past the sprawling Central Park, and the horse-drawn carriages made famous by so many Hollywood movies.

Cont’d…

Safely into Newark

The westward flight from Schiphol airport gains us hours – we will reach by mid-day. It also brings us in touch with the American accent of the stewardess of Asian descent. It is interesting to see that she relates better with American passengers than she does with Asians. Clearly, nurture has a far greater influence on upbringing than nature. Other than in appearance, she’s American indeed!

The seating arrangement is 2+4+2. A family of five arrives. The youngest pre-teen, tries for the window seat, but he’s outmanoeuvred by his teenaged elders. He’s left in the middle, stuck in the company of parents.

Across the aisle, a very large man has the sole responsibility of caring for 2 very small children – the boy yet to walk, the girl only a little older, but really as good as gold. She watches Finding Nemo quietly as daddy deals with junior’s tantrums. Sometimes the fantasy is overwhelming, but I’m not scared, she tells me and herself, it’s only a movie. I agree and reach out to hold her hand. She smiles, clasps the assurance, and continues watching the animated exploits of the waterworld. We wonder where the mother went.

The onboard entertainment offers recent movies, among them Slumdog Millionaire. I notice it plays for several people including the teenagers. I tune in too. Of course the real stars of the film are the little children who can make fantasy real. But would the film have made such an impact worldwide if it were an Indian production rather than a British one?

As the plane begins its descent, we perceive the expanses of land and the small homesteads. Then suddenly the sky scrapers of New York occupy vision. We might easily reach out and touch, it seems! The Empire State Building is instantly recognizable with its ninety foot antennae. But we immediately feel the loss of the twin towers of WTC. Momentarily, the pain of a nation bereaved touches us.



Below we see the shimmering waters of the Hudson River. We’re reminded of the miracle with Cactus 1549 and smile at the image of the airplane gracefully skimming the waters to the astonishment of onlookers!

Within moments we have landed at Newark airport in New Jersey. The wheelchair handler is a woman, an Asian immigrant. She waits patiently for the senior citizen put in her charge. She speaks in vernacular with some of her colleagues, and the language seems familiar. I ask if she’s a Tamil from India. No, she shakes her head, from Sri Lanka. The war there is terrible, she says, referring to the mounting civilian casualties. She takes no sides, but she has a constant worry. Her sister remains in Kandy, and they have not heard from her in a while.

We need to retrieve our baggage. She escorts us there and asks how our bags are recognizable. I mention the travel tags provided by insurance. She helps to haul them off the carousal. Soon we are ready to step out to a bright and sunny morning. We’re in America, and ooh, it’s cold outside!

Cont’d…

First look at Amsterdam

It’s just past dawn in Amsterdam. We are stopping over for a few hours before embarking on the next leg of the journey to America. We could have simply moved to the next gateway and positioned there. But we wanted a first look at Amsterdam, where people live below sea-level. I remember my Dutch friend explaining that they had to be tall to keep their heads above the sea waters!

We had been told not to smile, because the immigration officials in Europe are pretty suspicious of Asians. We have nothing to declare to customs. The immigration officer frowns at my passport photograph (taken without glasses) and comments that it doesn’t much look like me. We school our features expressionless. The prospect of being deported on the next flight to India because is not at all entertaining.

I suggest politely that perhaps the visa photo is more up-to-date, mentally thanking the (outsourced) visa screening process that insisted on my being bespectacled. Indeed it is, he grins date-stamping the passports with a flourish, welcome to Amsterdam!

We don’t expect any of our friends to greet us on this cold morning. They won’t come, the 80-year-old is convinced. She has to walk a fair bit, since people wanting to step outside the airport can’t take the wheelchair. As we try to call to find out whether they have at all made the effort to meet us, we realize that there is no cellphone network coverage. The reality sinks that we don’t have the local currency either. We ask the information desk for help to locate our friends. But they can only call landlines, not mobile phones.

Time is running out, we have to use a payphone. We find a money changer. A hundred dollars gets us sixty-three euros and a phone-card. She also explains how to make a local call – without the international codes.




At the end we find our friends are less than fifty yards away. It turns out the flight number given earlier has changed. They were looking for us, but were sure it was a wasted trip; we were not arriving nor could we be contacted.

We find that we only have about two hours to fraternize and renew contacts. Amsterdam we’re told is still in the grip of cold. It’s wiser not to go outside since we have some woolens, but not overcoats. So we just walk across to view the train station that connects with the city outside.

We settle for coffee and sandwiches in the airport cafeteria. The coffee is strong, but ‘instant’ I’m told, so the Dutch probably don’t grow their own. The sandwiches are our first taste of continental cuisine, and like the coffee it needs getting used to. The country is feeling the pinch of recession too, everybody fears layoffs. We feel for our friends but it’s almost time for the flight to America.

Our baggage has been checked through, so we head for the security check. This time it is thorough. We have to put through the x-ray machines shoes, coats, sweaters, watches, belts, and bangles. Women security personnel specially examine the lady in the sari. We’re questioned about our luggage: who packed it, when and where? Do we have anything in our possession that has been handed to us by unknown persons? Terror, we realize, is serious business.

Cont’d…

Flight from Del Int’l

In India’s capital, Delhi, the Indira Gandhi International is an airport that knows it features on the world map of aviation. Although work is still in progress at the sprawling infrastructure, the areas open to public is already impressive. Despite the late hours, there is bustling activity. Why are flights overseas generally scheduled for the wee hours of the morning? Perhaps the intent is to awaken to a new time zone!

There are many airlines, and each has its own gateway. That means a lot of walking but the service at Del Int’l is far more crisp and efficient than in any other city of the country. Follow the signs and you can get to your destination.

And for the elderly, there is priority, and more importantly human courtesy. Wheelchair and baggage handlers at the airport entrance are quick to help to cut you through the crowds. What charges might they demand ultimately? No, no, nothing, the young men shake their heads. And in truth, they move away after handing over to the airline people, and look surprised when you call them back to gratefully offer a tip.




The crowds are indeed immense. With so many travelling overseas, where’s the recession? Security on the international terminal however seems to be far less than the domestic circuit, where baggage must first pass through the x-ray machines before being checked in. The airlines we were flying didn’t seem too concerned that we could be carrying just about anything in the luggage. The high trust level seems inexplicable but perhaps the screening is conducted later and the suspicious tagged or otherwise deleted.

We try to appear solemn through customs and immigration checks. But the official staring over the tops of his spectacles suddenly cracks a smile. Look how she smiles thinking of meeting her son, he jokes with the 80-year-old pointing to her photograph on the visa. Seems to me it’s a good idea to be travelling with senior citizens. You can cut the queues and be unafraid of nodding off and missing the flight. The wheelchair ensures that you be first on the aircraft, comfortably ensconced before the crowds come in!



But sadly the same courtesy to the elderly isn’t extended by some of the fellow passengers. The man seated in the row ahead - economy class - probably needs value for money spent and isn’t about to be accommodating. His seat reclines even during mealtimes, and when asked to keep upright, snarls that the old should go find seating places elsewhere. It needs intervention by the steward and other passengers to remind him of his manners.

Food on the airline is more than ample. An 8-hour flight is long and you’re expected to be ravenously hungry every two hours it seems. For the average Indian accustomed to three spaced meals the entire day, that’s a difficult proposition. Regretfully, after a couple of times we felt compelled to pass up the exploration of new continental cuisine prepared, we notice, by Khana caterers in New Delhi!

Cont'd...

The visa turnabout

In Asia, Obama’s America is quite the tourist attraction. The world has watched the American people achieve the unthinkable – vote a man of colour into the highest office. Have the American people really overcome racism? This we felt, we had to see for ourselves.



But getting a visa is like climbing a mountain. Earlier, the first trip required an interview. Thereafter people applied for subsequent trips through a drop box. Generally by the same evening the visa was granted. But now the rules have changed. Every visit needs an interview.

The Consul people have also distanced themselves from the general public. Initial screenings have been outsourced. It’s an experience you don’t want to repeat in a hurry because of the tedium. It makes sense to keep your application answers short and to the point. And to remember to repeat them in the interviews, answers in each case need to match.

Anyway, you apply for the "interview" online, but the given time slot actually means that you join the queue at that time – the actual face-to-face may occur several hours later. The queue is placed about a hundred meters away from the building. There are few tourists, the majority are young IT professionals.

Security consciousness means you carry in only your relevant documents. Purses, folders, water and even facial tissues are suspect on consular premises. If you need a cough drop, exit, return to the security room outside and bite into the lozenge in the presence of the security personnel. Then reenter as before and hope your throat doesn’t act up again to force a repeat routine.

The outsourced interface sometimes causes confusion. You wearing reading glasses at the interview and not in your application photograph becomes an issue. Yes, you’re asked to furnish a new set of bespectacled pictures forthwith. Luckily small photoshops in the vicinity cater to this very need. By the way, don’t smile in the photograph, it’s frowned upon.

Your papers are scrutinized at length and you’re photographed and fingerprinted to good measure. Your verbal answers are also compared with your written application. The outsourced personnel don’t smile and don’t encourage you to be friendly either during the long preamble. Comparatively, the actual interview with the visa official is fleeting. Seems they make up their minds even before they get to see you. That’s when the genuine American nationals appear. Strangely, some of them can smile!

9/11 has perhaps made South Asia grossly suspect. Still, USA appears less afraid of imminent threats than many of her allies. Close neighbor Canada believes in family history - you’re asked the antecedents of three generations, parents, siblings and children. (Indeed a lot of paperwork if you’re from a large family!)

You must have a ticket to be considered for a visa to a European nation. But visa applications aren’t allowed in advance even if you have a ticket. The count begins from the date of issue, not the date of travel. Having a US visa does seem to facilitate matters however - others defer to the American judgement.

Cont'd...

Visit to Thailand: Faces of the Buddha

'Buddha' means the enlightened one. Buddhism evolved as new additions came about from the influence of other cultures - and the original Buddha was elevated to godhood. Every day of the week is assigned a significant image.

Scion of the Sakhya dynasty that ruled Kapilavastu in the central plains of Ancient India, Prince Siddhartha Gautama lived in the sixth century BCE. He is of course, better known around the world as The Buddha.

“Buddha” means the enlightened one. The Prince renounced royal luxuries and family to become an ascetic, Shakyamuni (sage of the Shakya), in search of liberation from the bondage of human suffering.

But finding that neither self-indulgence or self-mortification puts an end to suffering, he preached the Middle Way – the path of moderation.

Laughing Buddha

Who then is the fat man?

Laughing Buddha, with a big belly and a wide grin, a sack in one hand and a rosary in the other, is blessed with the ability to predict fortune and weather, and to bring health and prosperity. He is also called Maitraiya, and said to be the disciple the Sakyamuni met in heaven and appointed as the successor to appear 5000 years after his death.

Godhood

Gautama Buddha spoke of no god but Truth. But as Buddhism touched movements and schisms, countries and cultures, it evolved. Revision of scriptures and older techniques with new additions came about - the laughing Buddha, for instance, is a Chinese influence.

In the process, his teachings have been variously interpreted, and the Buddha himself has been elevated to Godhood. In fact, in Hindu cultures, he is named the ninth avatar on earth of Vishnu, the Preserver (of the holy trinity, ‘creator-preserver-destroyer’).


The spread of traditions

Buddhism is one of the oldest religions practiced. But not all its traditions outlasted other influences. After the Buddha, fissions of thought gave rise to different philosophical ‘vehicles’ (yana). Amongst the best-known surviving traditions are –

1. Theravada (Sri Lanka and Thailand) that dates back to the third century BCE, during the reign of Ashoka, the Mauryan Emperor of central India and a Buddhist convert, who first sent theras (missionaries) to preach the faith. The focus here is on personal liberation as preached by Gautama Buddha. With other schools coming up later, this is also called Hinayana, perhaps to mean the 'micro', the individual.
2. Mahayana (China, Japan and Korea) arose in the northwest regions in about 100 CE, with the support of the then reigning Kushan Emperor of India, Kanishka. There is a sense of collectivism in the focus here that every individual can aspire to enlightenment, and that the teacher brings up to par the entire group - hence perhaps 'maha' to mean the 'macro', the group.
3. Vajrayana (Tibet), which arose in eastern India in about the fifth century and spread to Indonesia and Tibet. It incorporates techniques similar to Hindu tantric or yogic practices, so is also known as Tantrayana.
   

There are variations in thought and practice within each of these vehicles as well.

The mythology surrounding the Buddha includes the Jataka fables, canonized from about the fifth century, that relate his exploits in other lives – some, like the ‘Great Turtle’, in non-human forms. The folklore is still ritualistically performed in dance, theatre and recitation.

Days of The Buddha

Each day of the week is assigned a significant image of the Buddha, perhaps to assist followers in meditation and a harmonious way of life.

Sunday:

The Buddha offering the eye

Monday:

The Buddha persuading relatives not to quarrel

Tuesday:

The reclining Buddha

Wednesday:

The Buddha holding an alms bowl

Thursday:

The meditating Buddha

Friday:

The reflecting Buddha

Saturday:

The seated Buddha protected by the 7-headed naga (snake)

Universal attraction

In India, as in other parts of Asia, Buddhism lost its ascendancy considerably with the revival of older religions, or the advent of others, like Islam. Yet still holding the power of universal attraction are its basic tenets of:

• Tolerance,
• Absence of an ‘almighty’ authority or fate, and
• Self inquiry to understand reality,
  

Buddhist traditions are followed in places as far away as Chile, South America. In Britain, it now appears to be the fastest growing religion. In the age of increasing diversity, how strange is that?!

Comments/opinions, anyone??