And Now For Something Completely Different....

Or should I say 'someone', as it's Beech Senior finally reporting in by kind permission. Put aside, for the moment, the poetic, structured ramblings of Beech Junior on these pages and join (and hopefully stay) with me even though it will soon become obvious that, in the literary stakes (as probably in most other things as well), I have a great future behind me. If you're still with me, read on.....

Don't expect a, 'We went there, did this and saw that', type of reportage or you'll be disappointed (?) (for the moment, you can take it as read that I've seen and visited some tremendous places both in Kalkota and in the countryside). No, I'm saving that for the poor suffering friends back home who will have to sit through the digital photo show being planned (in my head). There will be no escape so get the ProPlus ready. No excuses will be accepted even for those who have already visited India - you know who you are !

Instead, what follows is just a selection of my personal thoughts and observations, hopefully tied together with a thread of logic (however fine). I'll then leave you to draw your own conclusions about this chaotic, crazy, but fascinating place! And what a place. I may have only been here seven days so far, but that's probably longer that some so-called foreign correspondents for the 'lower' order papers and TV channels spend each year. That's my excuse anyway for these outpourings.

It's now just over a week since I arrived: and it's just as Pete said: the inefficiency; the noise; the smells; the filth; the abject poverty; the begging; the hassle; the (seeming) chaos - all experienced during the time it took to get from Kolkata airport at 2 am to my hotel (where Pete was already installed). I really thought during that time that I would either be asphyxiated by diesel fumes on the journey in by taxi (and therefore achieve the dubious honour of probably being the only westerner to visit India and die before the food and sanitation had had a fair crack of the whip), or that I would be sleeping out in the street (fear not, however, I would not have been alone). The latter came about because the hotel was all locked up and it took a good quarter of an hour to make someone hear and let me in.

Neither will I ever forget my first impressions of Kalkota that first day after about four hours' sleep. Walking out through the hotel's noise-insulated doors, I thought I had stepped out onto a Buster Keaton movie set with projectiles of all types: people, animals, vommit, bikes, cycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, taxis, motorcycles - all appearing to be aimed at me alone. I felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. The whole scene was to the accompaniment of a continuous chorus of human voices and motor vehicle horns to give me that much needed adrenalin kick for that first day. [I no longer jump out of my skin to the sound of blaring horns now - I can now walk down the road in darkness with the best of them , confident in the knowledge that all manner of vehicles will avoid me provided I don't make any sudden deviations! That's the situation out here in the country, let's see if I make it back home in one piece after I get back to the city]

I think they could 'smell' the newness of me in India that first morning and I must have looked like fresh Rupee-laden meat (but not beef) just arrived for their delectation. Pete to the rescue: shielding me effortlessly from the circling buzzards , we made reasonable progress to the part of town he had called home for about three weeks. I won't go into details of the area (read Pete's outpourings for those), but suffice to say that it was an area of the city frequented by travellers where it would be very easy to spend the rest of your life there, meeting new people of all nationalities, living on next to nothing, talking over the world's problems, sharing experiences and letting time drift by. Meeting some of Pete's very entertaining and intelligent friends he had become close to it was easy to see that the days and weeks spent there could very easily turn into months (and possibly years). It's a bit of an easy existence. You really can get, and are offered, anything within a relatively small area.

So what are the things I can't get my head around over here ? No real surprises. Well for starters, in Kolkata it was the grinding filth and poverty and the scale of it - even though, I'm sad to say you do get immune very quickly. How can a country that the world, and itself , sees as a burgeoning major economic player - I read yesterday that an India company has now bought out the UK steelmaker Corus which is a first for India- still cannot feed or house the poorest even its major cities where although the numbers are highest, the logistics are easiest? In Kolkata, Pete encouraged me to eat 'on the street' from the start (more about the 'belly' later) and it's possible to get something substantial to eat for about 20p. Clearly there's a lot of people who can't even afford this. Hence the begging. OK there's a lot of organised, well-dressed beggars (with borrowed kids in tow for example) but still the economic 'miracle' thing just doesn't add up. With inflation running around 6% things are only going to get worse for the lower orders. It's also sad to listen to the (many) very bright young Indians who come over to (and sometimes surround) us in order to practise their English, often in front of beaming, proud parents. The number of them who seemingly want to go overseas (for their career) also seems at odds with the new vision. Software engineering and 'business' seem to be the things to do at the moment......where the money is. Where are the doctors ? There is a lot of new money being thrown around and flaunted (happens everywhere I know), but we were particularly surprised to be charged almost two pounds for a bottle of Indian Lager while listening to an Indian rock band not a stone's throw from what I've been describing. That's more than some daily wages. What is going to happen when the gap widens and envy takes over I don't know. But then again, all this new money could filter down so everyone gets the benefit - we'll see. Mobile phones are also seemingly everywhere amongst the young, although Pete has the theory that they can't all afford to run them and use them for imaginary, fun-filled conversations to show their friends what a good time they're having! In terms of how far down the phones have spread, I didn't see anyone below 'auto rickshaw driver' level with one.

I also saw enough maimed and infirm people living and dying in the gutter to believe some of what I've been told about the inaccessibility of their welfare state. We saw some horror stories in the late Mother T's first hospice in Kolkata - people who (only if they want to be) are literally picked up from the gutter and given treatment and some dignity in death. For the fortunate (?) who get better, it's not a long term stay solution so I don't know what happens after. There's no getting away from it over here, the value of life is cheap for the lower orders in this society.

And yet, the strange (and sad) thing to say that it all seems to work in a peverse way. There is an order about the place, probably enforced by the caste system, and an acceptance of their lot. There has to be some order or the place would implode.

Nothing is easy here: life itself, travel, getting things done. In terms of the number of people around, India reminds me of Japan - but that's where the comparison ends. In a lot of other ways the country reminds me of Russia, 30 years ago, which I visited as part of a cultural exchange with the British Council (pre Gorbachev). At times, it's a frustrating over-manned, inefficient, form-filling nightmare of a place where everything has its price - the only trouble is generally finding out what that real price is. We have just had to move hotels from a once magnificent colonial-style former railway hotel because the place is falling apart (literally but mainly in the sense of trying to get things done). Every request, apart from breakfast, was made at least four times and yet whenever we went down to reception the office was full of men filling in forms and chatting. Elsewhere several old staff were dotted around the establishment doing very little. The point is, there were very few guests and it was obvious that the place is going down the pan: even the cycle rickshaw drivers told us (too late) about its inefficient reputation amongst the locals.

The pace of life in Orissa (in Bhubaneshwar and now by the sea in Puri) is a lot slower, the air cleaner, and altogether very pleasant. Whilst foreigners are still seen as very fair game by 99% of the people for the extraction of Rupees (or any currency) at tourist sites, temples etc by whatever means possible, the chase is at a less frenzied pace. Some of the most blatant culprits in hassling for money anywhere are the holy men of the Hindu temples. On the second day in Kalkota, at the famous Kali Temple, the holy man (high Brahmin caste) took me aside away from Pete so that he could get us to donate money individually, forcing the odds up by showing 'pledges' for fictitious amounts. Before I had the chance to say "on your bike" , Pete was around the corner telling the poor man he was an insult to his caste and standing as a holy man. The falsification of pledges is a very common practice. It happens even where, as non- Hindus, we are not allowed to visit the temples but are directed to a viewing platform where they try to get anything up to about Rs1500 (about 18 pounds) out of you. Pete is very good at arguing it out (and we all know about that at home don't we girls!) and they usually end up with about 60p. They always give in. Ruins and monuments which charge admission fees are the most relaxing to visit, where, unhassled, it's a pleasure to meet real Indian people: friendly, inquisitve, openly smiling and always willing to help. Personally, it's also nice to be shown a bit of 'respect' due to my being Pete's father. I could get quite used to this!

Interestingly, I've picked up nothing other than open friendliness from people I've talked to (or who have approached me/us). No 'Big Brother' effect here, although there was a letter today in the local broadsheet for the region of Orissa - one of the country's poorest - population 26 Million. Although it's clearly a fall-out from 'Big Brother', we are seen as "culturally backward, crude and narrow-minded people". So there any of you gloaters !

In a few days, I'll be leaving Peter to taken an internal flight to Delhi where I'll be staying for two days (to visit the Taj etc) before flying home. I think I've picked up enough from Pete to see through the scams which are undoubtedly going to come my way when I'm on my own. From Pete, I know, from experience, the standard price of water to the Rupee so that when they try to overcharge me Rs 2 or Rs 5 (less than 2p) I'll be prepared to argue and walk away as I've seen Pete do many times. It's the principle that counts, not the amount!!! The same goes for taxis rickshaws etc. Let's see how I get on..

Nearly forgot. As an engineer, I must mention one of the things I really love about India: their reluctance to join the throw away society (yet). Everywhere you go there are people, businesses fixing things- specialists for reparing this and that. Shops in Kalkota are devoted to spares and widgets. It warms the heart to see things actually being repaired rather than thrown away. Judging by some of the ages of the bikes, cars and other things, they must be rather good at it too.

Before I sign off for good, yes, I have had the 'belly' . About five days into the trip (not bad for me) I was waylaid and I had a 'lost' day when I was good for absolutely nothing. This was exacerbated by a bad bout of dehydration which did me no favours at all. It really is hot here and it's not even summer yet! I'm fine now and ready to put weight back on!

Many thanks to Peter for his company, for the laughs we've had and also for the benefit of his hard-won travelling experience. And above all for looking after me so well. That's what good sons are for!

India: what a place. Would I come back again ? Like a shot!

Back to you Pete..