Happy Diwali (Festival of the Lights)

I'm a bit behind with some of my posts, what with travelling, constant power-cuts  limited access to wifi & of course the Christmas, but I wanted to post this one I wrote a while back about Diwali because it is such a massive festival here and was without doubt the backdrop to my first few weeks here in India.

It is no exaggeration to say that just about every other day there is some sort of religious ritual, festival or colourful celebration going on in India, however Diwali, so called Inida's Festival of the Lights, is just about one of the biggest. Diwali is celebrated on November 17th and the festivities are spread over a five day period (and then some). If I was to summarise Diwali in a colourful nutshell, I would say, think of Bonfire Night, Guy Fawks Night, Christmas and Halloween all rolled into one giant festive snowball, then sprinkled with fairly lights, tinsel, fireworks and lashings of good will and rolled down into a valley of colourful lanterns, rainbows, candles, glitter and sparkles; while the nights sky is being popped alive with fire and colour and your ears ring to the symphony of screams of delight and laughter. Yes my friend, that, in a nutshell, is Diwali.

Jaipur city shopfront lit up like a fairground

Officially Diwali is the celebration of the triumph of good over evil and small clay lamps filled with oil are lit across homes and businesses to signify this. Houses, hotels and storefronts are lit up like a fairground with twinkly sparkly fairy lights & lanterns, giving the night a truly romantic and magical feel. The clay lamps in homes are kept on during the night and houses are cleaned in order to make the goddess (of wealth) Lakshmi feel welcome. It reminds me very much of the lamps we light on Christmas eve in the Christian faith and I'm aware of how very similar the two celebrations actually are. On the night itself fireworks and firecrackers are burst in order to drive away evil spirits and family members wear new clothes and share delicious sweets and cakes with family and friends (sound familiar?).

Red Hindu swastikas glow brightly, adorning shops and homes. Ironically often alongside white star decorations in the shape of the Star of David. When I first arrived in Jaipur I found it so strange to see these swastika emblems that I have always associated with evil and hatred, glowing so prominently on buildings and shop fronts here. However I was quickly reassured that in Indian culture they they represent good luck or well-being and and that the swastika symbol itself symbolizes the unchanging, all directional and endless nature of God. I get my first education that the swastika has had a very long life before Hitler and the Nazis. It is in fact one of the oldest symbols of mankind, a symbol representing peace, laughter, joy and good luck. It has been worshiped as a symbol of good fortune throughout many faiths and is a big emblem of the Diwali celebrations.

Jaipur city center decorated for Diwali

As it is a holy festival and holiday we get a few days leave off school and better yet my old travel buddy Fiona who I climbed Kilimanjaro with last year has emailed me to let me know she will be in Jaipur for Diwali. I am so delighted for the company and decide to book myself into a hotel for a couple of nights for the festival. As much as I am loving my volunteer work, the volunteer house is run by a very conservative Indian couple with a strict no alcohol policy, 8.30pm curfew, and lights out at 11pm. When I ask if I can get out (the locked door) to go jogging before work in the mornings I am told that I can jog around the basement and trying to walk across the road to discard of some rubbish in a pair of shorts sends shock waves around the compound. In short I'm starting to feel like I'm incarcerated in a women's prison and so I'm delighted at the prospect of a few days of freedom and the possibility of a glass of wine.

 Mother India however has other plans for me and I spend the eve of Diwali camped out on the bathroom floor of my hotel for five hours with possibly the worst case of food poisoning I have ever experienced in my life. I honestly don't think I have ever been sicker and I spend the next day spread like a starfish on my bed, depleted of every ounce of energy and mentally cursing the bottle of unsealed water that I bought the night
before from a road side street seller. If there is no seal on the bottle then the chances are that the bottle has probably been reused and not washed, a common source of sickness for us tourists.

Catch-up with Fiona on Diwali after a night of puking (-:

Fiona texts me to say that she is on her way over to my hotel & because I'm sick we decide to spend Diwali in the open rooftop restaurant of my hotel. This proves to be a very good choice as not only does it give us ample time to have a proper girly catch-up but it also offers us a great view out over the city of Jaipur. The entire city twinkles and sparkles like a royal jewel box and as dusk drips down and the night closes in; the stillness is shattered by the first loud bangs and crackles of fireworks being set off on flat rooftops across Jaipur. It's not long before we are being ushered downstairs to join the family that run the hotel in celebration. The celebration is lead by the family matriarch, a grey haired granny with her hair in a neat bun. All the family dressed in elaborate saris and embroidered suits for the men, surround her as they sing songs of praise and light candles in the darkened reception area. The strong aroma of burning incense fills the air as the granny runs her hands over our heads, blessing us in Hindi. It all feels very Christmassy, familiar and loving and I feel quite emotional as I watch the family hug and take each-others hands, thinking of course of my own family far away in Ireland. Indian hospitality is warm and welcoming and we are made to feel really involved and a part of the celebration. The ritual ends with the sharing of what I can only describe as the most delicious little cakes. Suddenly my stomach is feeling a lot better and myself and Fiona break and share the most delicious little coconutty number. We then head outside where the men of the family start letting off fireworks stockpiled over the last few months. These are no shrinking violet fireworks but the most amazing spectacular ones I have ever seen. Grow men are reduced to little boys as they excitedly light all manner of spinning, popping, spiraling, banging, exploding yokes and jump about squealing like little kids with delight. It really is a most fun celebration and we all happily join in.

Fiona celebrating Diwali with a sparkler 

Later on after Fiona has left, I go back up onto the roof to watch the fireworks. This is not just one firework display, but a thousand separate displays taking place all across the city, as people make their way up onto flat rooftops for the unleashing of firecrackers & fireworks collected over months & months. The sky is now alight with red, green, gold and sliver as it rains down diamonds and sparkles. The bangs, pops and crackles continue all throughout the night and for several nights after; rocking me off to sleep.

It really is a special celebration and for me brought home the similarity between traditions and faiths; we are not all that different after-all. I'm really glad I got to experience it and know next bonfire night I will be giving a little nod across the ocean to India and the celebration of Diwali.

Wishing you all a very Happy & Colourful Diwali, Christmas and New Years!

Namaste from India!

Diwali Fireworks!

Jaipur city center decorated for Diwali

Local markets are awash with Fireworks for sale

Delicious Diwali cakes, I took this pic in Mumbai.

Me Enjoying Diwali celebrations on Nov 18th 2012

Delicious Indian sweets served on Diwali.........YUM!

Jaipur town center

Street Kids School - A Typical Day

We leave for the street school around 9.30am in the morning and make the short twenty minute journey across town to the outskirts of Jaipur by rickshaw van. There are seven of us volunteers all crammed into the tiny van and on our way we also pick up the Indian teacher Asha who supervises the lessons. This is late morning by Indian standards as many Indians get up around 5am to get ready for school or work, so I've been quite grateful for this later start. As we drive through the busy streets, I usually occupy myself by looking out the window. There is never a dull moment, we pass men peeing by the side of the road, shaking themselves off unashamedly and grinning up at me (shudder!), rows of brightly coloured shops & fruit stalls already open for business & busy with activity. School children in crisp uniforms who meander along the road, sari clad women out shopping with toddlers in tow or carrying big loads on their heads, men crouched down on their hunkers in circles drinking small cups of chai (Indian tea) or simply watching the world go by.

Traffic is building, even by Indian standards and as we drive along the busy road, to the symphony of honks and beeps, small children from adjacent cars peer in at us, smiling and waving at the funny white people. Young Indians drive up alongside our van smirking & grinning at us while revving up their engines to keep pace with our van. I look across at Asha who is sitting opposite me; she seems to find this all very amusing indeed and returns my smile with a bemused grin. She is always immaculately dressed & today is no exception. I admire her plum coloured sari and the gold bangles and rings that adorn her henna decorated hands. She tells me that today is Karva Chauth a special holy day, where wives must fast from sunrise to moonrise for the safety and longevity of their husbands and offer up prayers (Puja) for them. I inquire cheekily if there is a day when the husbands will fast for their wives? She just smiles demurely at me, which I take as a resounding, no. From my short time in India, I can already see that it is most definitely a man's world here.

Asha looking lovely in her Sari for Karva Chauth

I know we are nearing the school when we pass by the slum camps at the side of the road where the children live. Today there is very little happening as most people have already long left for work. All I can see is an old granny in a lumpy sari bending down to wash a naked toddler in a bucket, while a big truck rumbles past, covering them both in a thick cloud of black smoke. Now that I've been working with the kids for a good few weeks, I still find it hard to get my mind around the fact that they actually live here. They just seem like such happy, well adjusted, regular kids but obviously by Western standards, their lives are very difficult indeed. Many of them will have to work after school and because they are not enrolled in a regular school and are desperately behind where they should be, the education that they will receive will be basic at best. Our van pulls up outside the school, which is basically like a large cement garage, protected by a metal covering. The project I am working with was set up by an Indian husband & wife team, who originally ran the pop-up school in local parks. They have since secured enough funds to rent this basic building which will accommodate up to thirty children. The kids that come to this school are not enrolled in a regular school and therefore this project offers them the chance of getting a basic education and the opportunity to develop their full potential and hopefully give them a better chance in life. Sadly for every child that comes to our school, there are literally hundreds upon hundreds of others who don't have this opportunity. Many are friends and even siblings of our kids from the same village who are kept home to mind babies or sent out to help bring in an income for the family. These kids have a huge amount of responsibility on their young shoulders and will most likely never learn to read and write and as a result the cycle of poverty is likely to continue again into the next generation.

A Jaipur city slum

The children are usually waiting outside the school for us and when our van pulls up they all cheer and rush over to greet us. This routine never gets old and it's great to get such a warm welcome every single day. The kids will put out their little hands to shake ours (a Western gesture not usual for Indians at all) and say 'good morning diddy'. Over the last few weeks, I've become known as 'diddy', which roughly translated means 'older sister', and every day is peppered with the constant ringing of 'diddy, diddy'........requests for swings in the air,  'diddy, diddy'....toilet????........"Noooo wait until break"........"diddy, diddy......A, B, C, D"........."diddy, diddy urrrgh" when I put too difficult of a sum on the board. I even hear "diddy, diddy".....when I'm dropping off to sleep and I'm wondering about the kids and where they are sleeping tonight and if they're cold, because it's now November & we're in the North of India and even indoors I'm finding I need an extra blanket myself at night.

Kids making their way to school in the morning

Rather than being split out by age, the classes are split out by level of the child. We sit on dusty rugs on the ground and all the classes take place together in the same room, just in separate corners. I am working in a back area that resembles a garden shed, stocked with planks of wood, bags of cement, old buckets and coils of tubing. On my first day when we open up the class, there are two big rats in there at the back, hiding out in the shadows. I try not to show my horror as everyone else settles into class, immune to our two rodent friends. In the end, one rat dashes out in the middle of class, over my bare foot and out the door. The second makes his escape through the roof with a clatter. The last thing I see is his ropy pink tail disappearing up through a hole in the ceiling as I look on in disbelief (Serious Shudder!). The simple fact is that rats and mice are so common place here in India that no one gives them a second thought, despite the diseases they obviously carry (not to mention their horrible little tails) they are probably on the same pest level here as spiders are at home.

Our basic teaching schedule commences with English in the morning, followed by a half hour break when the kids can play and then Maths in the afternoon. I usually work with about two to five children. When I first heard this I privately thought to myself......"easy, this is going to be a breeze", as I had initially assumed I'd have a large class of children to look after. However I soon realised just how demanding and often draining the teaching can be as each of the children I'm working with is at a very different stage & requires constant stimulation and attention. Progress is very slow and sometimes the children don't appear for a few days because they are sick or are needed at home, they have to work or simply because they would rather go off and play with their friends than come to boring old school. Some of the kids have been coming to the school longer than others and so are more advanced. However in general it is really sad to see just how far behind all of the kids are in comparison to other children their own age who go to school regularly. The vast majority of the kids are still only learning very basic preschool stuff like the alphabet and basic addition and subtraction.

While all the kids know the alphabet & can rhyme it off on cue, most can't read or write properly & progress is frustratingly slow. Unfortunately there is very little in the way of supplies which makes the teaching job even harder, so we usually just pick up books and charts ourselves on the local markets. The kids have all been supplied with small school bags, which usually contain just their copy book and a small pencil case. They have also been supplied with uniforms which some of them wear, but many are new kids and so the majority of the children just wear their own clothes which are often dusty and ripped with holes. It is a full time job just trying to keep them focused on their work, as they are so easily distracted with many of the younger kids running between classes or plonking down on my knee and then dashing off with my chalk. An additional distraction is the open air classroom with men hammering outside, trucks rumbling past & kids from other villages stopping by to peer in at us.

Granny & Toddler who sit on the steps & watch class

There is a toddler who lives next door and sits on the steps of our school every day with his granny and solemnly watches proceedings. He can't be much more than one and a half years old. He is often left on his own and will toddle up behind me while I'm teaching, swipe my book and toddle off again with it. When I turn around a few seconds later, he is back sitting in his corner with my book in his mouth dribbling all over it. One day I walk over to him and he has an enormous chicken bone in his mouth, which he is sucking on with great delight. Again, he is on his own with no one in sight minding him. I'm worried he'll choke on the bone, so I try in vain to prise it from his clenched little fist. He just looks at me unflinching with steely determination & keeps a firm grip on his chicken bone. Someone looks over and laughs at me and says, "Don't worry about that kid, that kid is as tough as nails, he'll be alright". It's strange but somehow I know that he will be OK and it strikes me how these children are just left on their own from such an early age and somehow seem a little tougher than kids of a similar age back home. Many of the kids have a great deal of responsibility on their young shoulders, with some of the older children in particular looking after their whole families and helping to bring in an income. Imagine a nine year old working to help pay the mortgage back home, simply mind boggling isn't it?

I'll finish off writing about school in my next post & will post some videos of my favorite school moments. I'll also write a bit about the orphanage where some of the other volunteers I am living with are working.

Till next time happy reading & Namaste from India!