My final week in Kolkata: Cricket, Rugby, Maharaja wedding venues, a place called Pandal, Old English Sports Days, an end of term school disco and Holi!!!

After our failed attempt to board a train to Varanasi, I embraced having an extra unexpected weekend in Kolkata and tried to make the most of my time with the students who have become my family.

Saturday saw me become the over enthusiastic sister supporter at a cricket match at CCFC (Calcutta Cricket Club). Future Hope made a valiant effort at defeating the ageing opposition, but lost by 1 run with two bowls remaining of their opponent's innings. (They scored 160 off 25 overs, CCFC managed 161 off 24.4 overs). Devastating, I even threw my supporters cap to the floor when they hit a four on the last bat of the game.

Having been adopted by the boy's house next door, Ballygunge boys, I found myself cooking a breakfast of Aloo Dam (spicy potatoes) for 26 hungry male stomachs at 7am on Sunday morning. They completely demolished the feast within minutes of service; I take that as acceptance to my cooking. Soon after breakfast, I found myself in Tim Uncle's car heading to a corporate Rugby tournament. Here, I reestablished my role as the most engrossed supporter, cheering the Future Hope team into the Final. Unfortunately they lost but had a great go at it.

Corporate rugby with the rugby team which included current students, alumni, and of course Tim Uncle.

Sunday evening whisked me far from the Kolkata I know, both physically and mentally. After about an hours drive out of the city, 4 of the volunteers (Jemima, Tonnie, Nicole and I) found ourselves at an ancient Maharaja's palace, currently undergoing a transformation into an ultra luxurious 5* boutique hotel. I honestly don't think I have been anywhere so mesmerising, neither in India nor back home. The evening included a grand tour, entertainment from a famous traditional band, complete over-indulgence in the open bar and buffet, and the offer of the palace for a wedding venue, free of charge! I am holding Ajay to the offer!! Incredible India indeed!

My last week proved quite eventful. (As such this will be the longest Kolkata blog; the Hindu festival of Holi warrants its own post really!)
 Firstly on Wednesday, a day off from school for everyone, I got up at 5:30am to go off into the Kolkatan suberbs with the boys from Class XI B with whom I'd been trekking. They took me to the site of an ancient Roman Catholic Church in Bandel, portugese in Architecture but with a real Bengali swing on religion. In the evening all the volunteers ventured to the banks of the Hoogli River to watch a beautiful sunset and take a little boat trip.

Sunset on the River Hoogli

Some of the FH volunteers: left to right Sam, Nicole, Jemima, me and Georgie.

One activity most volunteers par-take in during their stay at Future Hope is a Night tour. This involves going out with one of the two outreach workers, Mintu or Jas, and driving around the streets of Kolkata looking for potential new students who could benefit from the opportunity. We visited a real mix of places including the red light district, the burning chats where bodies were queued up for burning, both Sealdah and Howrah stations, and a Bee hive of activity at the midnight vegetable market. At the latter, men carried bundles of vegetables weighing up to half a tonne in chains of 4men. They literally looked like a human centapede. Along with the scenes of the streets, Jas intermingled the stories behind himself and  some of the pupils which brought the whole experience home. We rolled into bed at 4am.
Three hours later we got up for our final day of term. The not-to-be-missed singing assembly was a great way to end the school year. I had many farewells, the most emotional of which was with class XI B. They surprised me with a photo collage from our trek which set the tears flowing; many of you may have seen a whole album on Facebook documenting the emotional episode.
To help celebrate the end of the school year, the volunteers hosted a school disco for the boarders. Just like in England, the little ones threw themselves into dancing while the older boys and girls stood at opposite sides of the hall too self conscious to dance. Luckily we volunteers have lost all public credibility so had a good boogie. Honey Singh is the Indian version of Jay-Z and found himself on repeat most of the evening.
As part of my leaving I wanted  to organise an old English sports day. Events included sack races, onion and spoon race (the Indian take on a British favourite), three-legged, and a good old Sprint. The races went down well and even the house parents got involved!

Old English sports day: three legged race

Sunday and Monday were spent celebrating Holi, the festival of colour, marking the first day of spring. I began the day getting a face full of red paint (non smudge) at 7:30am courtesy of Ballygunge Boys. A local Indian man followed with green powder which temporarily blinded me. Off to Rajahat, 45mins out of the centre, to play Holi with the boarders. We spent 4hours throwing powder at one another, getting rugby tackled into streams of dirty water and generally being victimised. I think a lot of the students got their own backs from my practise exams papers I'd made them a few weeks before. It was great fun and I came away plastered in paint.

Nicole and I 4 hours into Holi

Let the cleaning commence!

Some of the volunteers holi-ed out!

Monday was a continuation of the colour. As always seems to happen in Kolkata, we got invited to a Red Bull party full of colour, foam and water guns. Within 5minutes of arriving, we were socked with water and colour. It was one of the craziest parties I have, and probably, will ever go to in my life.

 A great week of send offs from a city that has adopted  I too have taken into my heart.

Since moving back to Kolkata I've changed residences. We five girls ( complete different crowd to the pre-Christmas Alice and Charlotte) live in the ground floor flat. We have daily battles with cockroaches, mice, and ants, and we've had to scare away some all-too-intriuged men who seem to have mistook our windows for viewing holes at a zoo! This week saw me get electrocuted by a dodgy plug, and the week before Tonnie is adamant she saw a ghost! All in a normal week at Ballygunge. 

The delightful bathroom complete with mould

The entrance to our Home Sweet Home: our flat on the left,  the Bally Boys house on the right.

That said, we have an incredible rooftop which we have made quite homely. Although overlooked, we've created a chilled lounging area and even bought a paddling pool. 

Nicole and Annie enjoying the sun western style

One of the redeeming features of the flat: the view

From Kolkata I fly to Kathmandu to spend 2 weeks trekking around the Annapurna mountain range. It's miles away both physically and mentally from Kolkata but another adventure within an adventure.

Catwalks, pancakes and sprinting after the Vibhuti Express

In my experience Exam season has been associated with long dull sessions spent slaving over books in bedrooms and libraries dreaming of the moment I step out of my final test. Exams at Future Hope have brought almost the opposite. 
Jemima and I ventured off to some of the tourist sights, taking in the crammed flower market on the banks of the Hoogli river. In amongst the beautiful sights and smells created by the flowers, the river itself is a swelling flow of sewage and waste, quite a revolting scene. 

Some of the hundreds of stalls at the market

Flowers from the market

We also called in at the colonial General Post Office and the historic St John's church. At the latter, we made two marvellous discoveries: the first was a potential ancestor of mine ascending up the Griffin side of my gene pool; the second was "John" of St John's - the quirky, eccentric, hair-in-dreadlocks, broken-hipped organist of the church. He gave us the grand tour as we were "friends of the lovely Charlotte", which included a personal performance of Auld Lang Sine and Pink Floyd on the organ. 

The one and only John of St John's

Sunday saw the continuation of my career along the Indian red carpet. The previous week I found myself at the Bengal Fashion Week, sitting front row on the final showcase! We even got free chocolates thanks to our seats. While at the show I bumped into a man, Prasanta, who once represented India in an International darts tournament held in none other than Bridlington, Yorkshire. After a bit of white rose bonding, he invited me to join him at the Kolkata Fashion Show the following weekend. This invitation turned into a request for me to walk in the show. Although initially sceptical, encouragement from the other volunteers saw me throw on a pair of high heels and learn how to "work" a runway! My dress, a modern take on the traditional Indian wedding dress, proved to be a big hit. Following a successful strut up and down without any hints of a trip, I was photographed by a number of newspapers and approached by another paper asking for details on how to book me for a future shoot! "I'm not actually a model" was lost in translation so I just gave him my details. Who knows, maybe a career in Indian fashion may still be possible?! 

Backstage at the Fashion show. Me on the left and Prasnta in the middle.

Pancake Day and Ash Wednesday fell in the following week. Depleted in volunteer numbers due to the others little trip to the Andaman Islands, Jemima and I were left to fry up 200+ pancakes for the borders. This included collecting the various ingredients and 
negotiating a good price. The many years spent with Daddy Suddaby in the markets of Turkey and Tunisia kicked in and we haggled like mad. We still probably got ripped off but when an egg cost the equivalent of 4p, I think we're still winning. After a little tuition on how to build the perfect combination, the American style pancakes topped with sugar, banana and lemon (the latter being a real treat for the kids) went down a storm. We were both pretty sick of the sight of the doughy disks by the time we reached home.

Mass production of Pancakes

Ballygunge enjoying the tasty treats

Ash Wednesday has never been particularly monumental in my life except marking the start of the 46 day period during which I test my mental self control and remove all chocolate, sweets, biscuits, cakes, crisps etc. from my diet. This year we decided to return to John at St John's and attend the church service. Although initially late, our group of 5 Gora girls doubled the size of the congregation so were welcomed with open arms. Some fantastic singing followed, warbling more than a gaggle of Griffin siblings at Church. We left the church with a newly tattooed black ash cross on our forehead. Subtle. 

Ash Wednesday Service with (R to L) Georgie, Jemima, Me, Jess and Jess's friend.

My penultimate weekend at Future Hope was going to take me to Varanasi, the spiritual home of India. The realisation of how little time I have got has set in and I began to wish I hadn't left it so late to visit. Following a full on week with exams, tuition and (of course) pancakes, we were looking forward to a weekend away. We left about an hour to get to the station, apparently not long enough. A local friend had offered to drive us to the station. Unfortunately a few wrong turns, heavy traffic and bad GPS meant we arrived t Howrah at 8:01pm. Our train left at 8pm. Optimistically we sprinted between the stations; confusingly there are 2 at Howrah. Frantic directions later we reached the platform to see the headlights of the Vibhuti Express pulling out of the station. We attempted a heroic sprint after the train but were stopped by the police. Tails between our legs, the three sprinting polgi Goras (crazy whities) walked back to the entrance. Maybe this is why Indians arrive one hour before the train departs?

Still, I can make the most of another weekend in Kolkata. Another modelling job is available and there are a lot of kids looking for distractions. In this next week we plan to organise an Old English sports day, a school disco and celebrate the much talked about Holi festival - the famous festival seeing Hindus dress all in white and throw multicoloured powder over one another.