Utrecht reunion in Udaipur

Tuesday 25^th March 2014

Last week passed with relatively little worth writing about. I saw a few obese dogs, noticed that there are a lot of tractors on the roads here, and that the number and range of books available about entrepreneurialism is huge (more on this another time).

   However, on Friday evening I headed off to the railway station to catch my overnight train 300km north to Udaipur, where I spent the weekend with Lena, a friend from Utrecht who is doing her thesis research in Delhi. Apart from almost freezing to death because of the rather intense air-conditioning, the train journey was most comfortable, and extremely punctual (what’s going on with all of this good public transport, India? Not that I mind, but it’s hardly what I expected to find here). And the best part: the ticket was only Rs.665 (8€). Our hotel was run by a Dutch-Indian couple, and it was the first time in ages either of us had heard the language we’d become so accustomed to, which of course led to us reminiscing about Utrecht. After getting over how excited I was to see a familiar face after several weeks, we set-off to do some sightseeing.

   Our first stop was the soft-yellow stone edifice of the City Palace, which rises above the northeast shore of Lake Pichola. It is made up off eleven different palaces, with a myriad of courtyards and chambers all connected by a labyrinthine series of narrow passageways. Apparently this was designed to confuse and disorientate enemies that tried to invade, and reduce their ability to attack. All I can say is, thank goodness there was a clearly signposted visitor route, otherwise, I may still be there trying to find the exit. After viewing the countless paintings of various royals’ exploits, shielding my eyes from the garish glare of the rooms decorated with multicoloured mirror tiles and battling our way through the throng of tour groups, we strolled down to jetty to take a boat trip on the lake.

The City Palace.

   The boat trip was…interesting. We were made to wear life jackets that were not only older than both of us, but also had no way of fastening, and so thin that they probably wouldn’t have kept much more than a feather afloat. 

Boat trip on Lake Pichola.

Lake Pichola and the Lake Palace.

We cruised around for a while, looking across the water at the mountains, City Palace and Lake Palace, and then suddenly we were dropped off on a small island. We stood for a while, a little perplexed as to what was going on, but soon conceded that we’d have to wait for an hour for the next boat back, sitting in the garden of a random hotel. The hour had almost passed (I spent most of it taking selfies) when we noticed that most of the people we’d arrived with had disappeared. It turns out that boats had been leaving from the other side of the island every few minutes. 

Boat trip-selfie.

Before going back to the hotel, we stopped off at the seventeenth century Jagdish Temple, which has some beautiful carvings of scenes from the life of Krishna, elephants, and dancing nymphs.  

   On Saturday night we went to the first of the good restaurants Lena had found through some research. Criteria: good food, good view, and a bar. I might have mentioned this before, but alcohol is prohibited in Gujarat, and after six weeks, I was really feeling the need for some gin. Thankfully, Upre (the restaurant) did not disappoint: we had the best table on the rooftop terrace, watched the sun set over the lake, and ate and drank to our hearts’ content.

Dinner at Upre. 

The view from our table at Upre.

   Based on the recommendation of my guidebook, I wanted to visit Bagore-ki-Haveli, a palace built in 1751, and apparently a ‘worthwhile museum’, which is where we went first on Sunday morning. I was wary from the moment we paid the suspiciously low entrance fee of only Rs.50, and rightly so it would seem. The first gallery was full of puppets, which were – for lack of a better description – quite creepy. Next, we found ourselves admiring the turban collection, including my personal highlight: (probably) the world’s largest turban. Finally, there was the large collection of polystyrene sculptures of various things, ranging from everyday objects and animals to famous world monuments (I was particularly impressed by the Eiffel Tower). While we struggled to see the significance of these pieces, the Indian family visiting (their children were incredibly obnoxious) at the same time seemed utterly spellbound by them.

    Exhausted by the thrills of the museum, we spent the afternoon lounging (and by this I mean eating) at Millets of Mewar, a charming café that specialises in healthy, vegan, and gluten-free food. Lena was very excited about the gluten-free pizza and pancakes - and rightly so – the food was great. I had mutter paneer, my favourite North Indian dish. I'm sure I consume far more paneer than is advisable. Later, we took a car up to Sajjangarh (Monsoon Palace), which sits over 300m on a hill above the city. The palace was never actually inhabited, and is rather barren inside, apart from the exhibition about local biodiversity (it sits inside a wildlife sanctuary), but the panoramic views over Udaipur, the lakes, and the surrounding countryside are stunning.

Just part of the stunning panorama at Sajjangarh

    Again, based on Lena’s research, we went to yet another delightful restaurant for dinner. Ambrai’s setting facing the lake and City Palace (oh, how romantic…) was superlative. The food and cocktails were also exquisite. I particularly enjoyed their delicious Gulab Jamun (a dumpling-like dessert flavoured with cardamom and rosewater syrup) and ‘Pink City’ (a cocktail with gin, pineapple juice and rose syrup).

    Before we departed on Monday, it was decided that another trip to Millets of Mewar was required. There was only one problem with the place: it was plagued by a certain type of person, who I can’t quite find the exact word to describe, but you’ll see what I mean in the following example. We first saw her on the bridge as we crossed the lake, sitting, talking in a condescending tone to an elderly man selling instruments. About half an hour later, she arrives at the café, carrying an instrument, bragging about how she only paid Rs.800 for it: she could have had it for less, but after all it was hand-made and would have cost her at least $1000-2000 back home in New York. She sat there, ‘playing’ the instrument for the next hour, talking to some other tourists, one of whom asked her what had brought her to India. Her response:

   “I’m here for the same reason anyone comes to India, to find myself.”

According to her, if you travel to India alone, you are most certainly doing so in order to find yourself. Don’t worry; I’ll let you know when I do. Although I’m not feeling particularly lost, so perhaps it’s already happened?

   Despite the huge saving she’d made buying the instrument, she still complained about the price of her cup of coffee (Rs.45/0,54€). Thankfully, these extortionate prices soon drove her harem-pant-clad self away.

   All in all, a wonderful weekend. The train journey back to Ahmedabad last night was, again, comfortable and punctual. I go back to work tomorrow. Only six interviews left to do!

Waiting to board the train. Goodbye, Udaipup.

Happy Holi!

Monday 17^th March 2014

I was woken this morning with a face full of of bright blue powder. And then yellow. Suddenly, we're in the street with our neighbours, throwing colours around. 
    As you may have guessed, today is Holi, the Hindu festival marking the arrival of spring. It's a festival of colours (so obviously, I love it), which brings everyone out to celebrate with coloured powders, water and paints. This is exactly what I spent my Saturday afternoon doing with my colleagues from Saath's youth programme, after some interviews at their event that day. It was certainly a lot more successful - but was probably filled with just as many laughs - as my Gujarati 'lesson' earlier in the day!  

Holi fun with the Youth Force team.

    I had a huge smile on my face all day Sunday, sometimes because I was enjoying myself immensely, and others when I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I spent the day at the Gandi Ashram with Youth Force, visiting the museum (Gandhi made a lot sandals, who knew?) and taking part in group activities, which included dancing (yes, it was rather embarrassing without the help of a gin & tonic), and a chance for me to show off the whole two words of Gujarati I'd learnt the day before (કેમ છો) Most applauded and smiled, either because it was fair, or (most likely) because it was terrible. I conducted a few interviews, and before I knew it, everyone was throwing colours at each other again - such fun.

Gandi Ashram with Youth Force.

    After lunch, I was whisked off to visit my research assistant's in-laws-to be, apparently doing him a big favour Of course, I didn't mind, there was delicious food and tea involved. When we'd finished with the small talk and excessive smiles on my part, we headed back to the Ashram, and I was quickly on my way again to somebody else's house, for more tea and snacks. The hospitality shown to me here has been so heartwarming. I certainly won't be losing any weight while I'm in India, but it's worth it for all of the warm welcomes. 

    Last night, the city was illuminated by Holika bonfires (Holi celebrates the death of Holika - the devil - to save Prahlad, giving the festival its name) and resounded with music in celebration. I am totally mesmerised by this country's consistent effervescence. 

Holika bonfire at the end of my street.

    Having now completed 24 interviews, I’ve started to think about some of the themes and patterns emerging, and not only those which relate to my research objectives. During the interviews, I ask participants to describe any changes they have noticed occurring around them in recent years. Most responses describe the growth of the city, communications and technology, and public transport, but several have mentioned the clearances of informal settlements along the riverfront here in Ahmedabad as part of the Sabarmati Riverfront Development Project. According to the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation, the purpose of the project is to "to revivify the city centre by reconnecting it to the river". Rehabilitation of displaced slum dwellers from the area met with severe opposition from activists involved with slum rehabilitation, although the process has now been completed, and was the largest displacement of its type in the city to date.

When the interviewees discuss the development, there is some resonance with notions of a politics of distinction, as discussed by Leela Fernandes in her (2004) article The politics of forgetting: class politics, state power, and the restructuring of urban space in India. Fernandes discusses spatial practices such as urban beautification projects as ways to produce a vision of liberalising India, of which the identities of its ‘new’ middle class are central, with the production of boundaries of their category, constructed through a politics of distinction from and by forgetting the poor and working classes. However, I have noticed that this seems to occur on other scales, and within the poor themselves. Slum dwellers in permanent settlements distinguish themselves from those living in extreme poverty through the advocacy of these clearance and resettlement programmes. Their attitude appears to be that the new housing they will be offered is a definite an improvement in their quality of life and good for the city, without consideration of negative social impacts on the communities concerned. This also reinforces that we must remember that the poor in the Global South are not, and do not act as one homogenous group or necessarily have the solidarity one might imagine.

Please note that these observations are based on only a few conversations, and it would of course require substantially more research in order to draw any veritable conclusions.

A street in Behrampura, the locality in which a majority
of my research has been conducted.

“Why are you doing this research? How will it help me, us?”

That’s what one of my participants asked me after his interview earlier this week. Honestly, it threw me. Whilst I’m used to discussing my research and ideas in academic circles, wherein it’s (usually) easily understood for its intrinsic worth, having to describe and defend its instrumental value to a participant was slightly daunting, I couldn’t just say:

“Well, it’s not action research, so it doesn’t necessarily help you.”

I did manage to describe how my work should hopefully make a positive impact (eventually), however small it may be. Despite the mild state of panic it put me in initially, I am most grateful to this young man for presenting me this challenge, and forcing me to really think and remind myself as to why I’m here.

Sitting in this café, I am not only enjoying the free WiFi, friendly service, and delicious iced coffee (no, they’re not paying me to write this), but also the opportunity it gives me to observe members of India’s ‘new’ middle class, and in particular its youth. They are simply fascinating: their mannerisms; their patterns of consumption; their politics. Should I for some reason find myself in a position in the future that involves further research, they will certainly be on the agenda.

Distinction and forgetting:
key to contemporary India's image?

On a slightly different note, a few nights ago I was woken by something falling on me at 4am. It was a cat that had jumped through the window. I was not impressed. The aforementioned window will remain closed from now on. 
Finally, I had a much-needed haircut this week. For some unknown reason, I am always apprehensive about getting my hair cut in unfamiliar places, and decided to play it safe with a salon in one of the city’s upmarket shopping malls. I had no idea how much I’d pay, but thought it would probably be about what I pay for the very standard, quick job I get at the budget place I usually go to in Utrecht (14€). Nonetheless, I took my credit card just in case. After forty minutes, and potentially the most meticulous trim I’ve ever had, I was set back…Rs.170 (2€). 

India continues to astound me. 

Back to work, and a weekend in the Pink City

Monday 10^th March 2014

Last week, I finally got back to doing interviews for my research. We moved to another area of the city – a slum community near the railway tracks – where I was fortunate enough to meet more Youth Force members, and talked to them about their lives and views on society. At the start of each interview, I introduce myself and tell the participant a little bit about my research, and explain that everything they say is anonymous, and no names or photographs will be in the report, to which most say they are fine with, or somewhat glad about. However, this time, one of the interviewees replied with:

“You can take my picture, put it on the news, make me famous in your country!”

And so on this occasion, I did. Although I’m not sure just yet about how I’m going to get him on the news and make him famous…please do write if you have any suggestions. 

"Make me famous"

While I was running across the city to research locations (obviously not literally – it’s hot here, and I’m hardly the running type) I noticed that there seems to have been a sudden increase in the number of elephants in the streets. I saw around six in three days, just casually being ridden along busy thoroughfares or across traffic-jammed crossroads. They were so adorably incongruous. Sadly, for some reason, their riders really don’t like them being photographed, at least that's what I assume the shouting and large-stick-waving meant.

Two of my interviews later in the week were in yet another part of the city, where the programme has only been active for a short time. Despite this, the participants I spoke to there were so curious and insightful, and these were probably the conversations I’ve learned the most from since I started. These took place in a delightfully calm, leafy park, which was all very nice, except for when, mid-way through the second interview, a bird defecated right on my notebook. Splat. Right in the middle of the page I was using. I had a delicious ‘cashew carnival’ flavoured ice cream on my way home to make up for the incident (my ice cream obsession continues).

Later in the week, I decided to head off to my local bookstore (again) to pick up something to read over the weekend, and there I couldn’t help but notice some of their slightly bizarre organisation of the books, such as several volumes of lesbian erotic fiction in the ‘Interior Design & Architecture’ section. I also stopped off at the café I go to in order to use the WiFi, where by now, the staff know me by name, greet me upon arrival, and can usually guess my order. I walk approximately 4km to go there, just to use the Internet. This may sound like part of a ‘First World Problems’ fundraising campaign, but I must admit that I am surprised at how difficult it is to find a reliable internet connection in ‘shining’ contemporary India, especially considering that when we have problems with ours back in the UK, we’re likely to speak to somebody in a telecommunications company’s call centre in Hyderabad or Bangalore!

Another observation from the past week: the election is everywhere already. Narendra Modi’s face is plastered on every other billboard in the city, there are BJP flags flying on the roundabouts, and the newspaper headlines are endless. It’s a truly remarkable time to be here and observe something like this, and not just for the spectacle of seeing the world’s largest democracy go to the polls. This election has the potential to be “the most significant contest since India won its independence from Britain in 1947” (see article mentioned below). India’s youth are a vital demographic when it comes to politics, with two-thirds of the population under the age of 35, and 150 million first-time voters in this election, making this an event of particular personal interest. For some more information about Modi, the election, and youth in politics, this article by Jason Burke is a good read: http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/mar/06/narendra-modi-india-bjp-leader-elections

Moving on to something a little more cheerful, I spent the weekend in Jaipur (Rajasthan), also known as ‘The Pink City’ (although I don’t think it really lives up to this name any more). Another sprawling, congested Indian city, but with some wonderful sights to behold. Also, I stayed in a hotel; it was nice to have hot water and a comfy bed again for a few days.

I flew up to Jaipur early on Friday evening with Indian low-cost airline IndiGo. Whilst I was expecting a Ryanair-style jumble of queues, boarding chaos, and fights for overhead locker space, I don’t think my experience could have been any more different: tiny, well-organised queues at check-in, security, and boarding; friendly, helpful and very polite staff; a comfortable, clean aircraft; precisely on-time departure and arrival, easy and calm boarding and disembarking, I could go on, but I think you get the idea. Bravo, IndiGo, I was thoroughly impressed, if slightly suspicious about how un-Indian it all seemed. 

After my first night at my hotel, which was full of hilariously eccentric European women, I set out on Saturday morning to explore the city. My first stop was the splendid City Palace (built in the 1720s) and its array of beautiful halls and elegant courtyards, among them the Pritam Niwas Chowk with four superbly painted doorways depicting the four seasons. 

City Palace.

I also saw the world’s largest sterling silver vessels, two urns used by Madho Singh II when he visited London in 1901 to carry water from the Ganges because he did not trust the water in the West. I had fun taking pictures of my reflection in them (see below, right).

From there, I moved on to the stunning Hawa Mahal or ‘Palace of the Winds’, which includes a series of screened niches once used by the ladies of court to look out on proceedings below. At one point, when I was snapping away with my camera a young man approached and started talking to me, and I was expecting it to be the usual “Where are you from? What’s your name? Can I have a picture with you?” but it turned into a very pleasant forty-minute conversation (with Mr. Smeer Ahmed, as he introduced himself) about everything from the weather (obviously) to the Five Pillars of Islam, via charity, politics, and of course, cricket.

Hawa Mahal.

Looking across Jaipur from the Hawa Mahal.

Following a delicious lunch of some street-vendor samosas and an ice cream, I proceeded to the remarkable Jantar Mantar. It’s basically a lot of huge eighteenth century, stone astronomical measuring devices, and was both slightly surreal and absolutely fascinating. I spent a good couple of hours there nerding-about, eavesdropping on tour guides, and being asked to appear in several photos, including some very amusing selfies and posing with someone’s baby.

Jantar Mantar.

Eventually, I moved on, heading for Surya Mandir, a temple that sits atop a hill just east of Jaipur. Being careful to avoid the monkeys and pigs (which were not aggressive, as the person who tried to charge me 300 Rupees for ‘protection’ had told me), I rambled up to the top and savoured the almost-peaceful, hazy views across the city.

Surya Mandir.

On Sunday, I headed out of the Pink City to Amber Fort, which is perched on the crest of a rocky hill around 11km north of Jaipur. It was simply incredible! From the outside, the edifice itself was impressive, as it loomed above the lake and the elephants plodding their way up and down the path, but the real magic was inside. Magnificent palace buildings, and endless doors, courtyards, turrets, and passageways to explore – I felt like a child again, clambering through a castle in a fairytale. As I was leaving, I saw a snake charmer, and was of course, terrified. Luckily, there was a large gaggle of gawping Italian tourists to provide a sufficient buffer between the serpent and myself. Just typing this is sending shivers down my spine.

Amber Fort.

Elephants at Amber Fort.

Sheesh Mahal and courtyard, Amber Fort.

The last stop on the agenda in Jaipur was Albert Hall, which houses the city’s central museum. They had a nice collection, I especially liked the 19^th century illustrations of Hindu stories, including ‘Ragini Asavari, the tribal girl who plays with snakes’ – she sounds bonkers. Sadly, the museum seemed to be suffering from a pigeon infestation, which meant rather a lot of deposits on the display cases. 

I was also very happy to finally find some postcards in Jaipur, and spent two hours writing thirty-two of them, all I need now are the stamps. 

Now, I’m back in Ahmedabad after another lovely IndiGo flight, and I’ll be carrying on with my research later this week. I can’t believe I’ve been here for a month already!

25 Years of Saath, the weekend, and my research

Sunday 2^nd March 2014

On Friday (28^th February), I attended the event celebrating 25 years of Saath. It was a truly delightful evening of speeches, stories, and the launch of a book about the organisation, followed by a delicious dinner. I had the chance to meet many great people involved with Saath, including staff, community members, and other acquaintances from the city and beyond. Being there made me realise just how honoured I am to be part of such a wonderful organisation. It also gave me the opportunity to meet all of the other lovely people from the FedEx team and learn about the work of the other groups with SEWA and the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation.

Over the weekend I got through another couple of books (have a look at the Reading page if you're interest in which ones) and roamed around my suburb a little more. I found a supermarket with an ‘international food’ section, which turned out to be a collection of rather randomly assorted Waitrose products. I have also reached the decision to no longer use pavements along main roads unless strictly necessary, as they seem to frequently serve as public urinals. This evening I went for a stroll around Vastrapur Lake and the surrounding park, which are nice enough, despite the dust and endless couples trying to hide their (quite obvious) displays of affection – this is apparently problem enough to warrant ‘No Romance’ signs in the area. Apart from that, the weekend was relatively uneventful. I am very relaxed.

Vastrapur Lake and park. 

This evening's sunset at Vastrapur Lake.

Tomorrow, interviews resume! I’m aiming to do around thirty in total, and have these finished by early April, so that I can get my interim report in on time (due in mid-April). My research is about the experiences of male youth in Ahmedabad. Why youth? As Chetan Bhagat (2012) writes in What Young India Wants, “India is the youth. This is something you will hear often, mainly because India’s median age is twenty-five, and 70% of the population is below thirty-five…the youth have little say in mainstream political or national issues. The youth are under-represented.” Youth are such a vital demographic in contemporary India, in many ways, and understanding their experiences may be key to development now and in the future. My focus on male youth comes from both my interest in gender relations, and the various (mis)perceptions of male youth in the Global South. It’s important to remember that gender is not just about women, that every binary of course has two sides, both of which it is important to understand in order to improve the lives of all concerned. Issues regarding women in India are of vital importance, and with this research I hope to increase knowledge and understanding of the under-studied male youth and their experiences and perceptions of life (including gender relations), to allow for better policy in the future.

If anyone would like to read my research proposal in full, please don’t hesitate to ask!

The first three weeks

Saturday 1^st March 2014

Due to my research assistant/translator being very busy with other things recently, I’ve found myself having the last 9 days with almost nothing to do. After exploring my local area several times over and finding nothing but shopping malls (quite interesting actually, but I’ll come back to those later) and suburbia, and reading a few books (I have bought more already), I’ve decided to start a blog about my time here. It’ll be mostly day-to-day stuff for now; I’ll save any ‘deep and meaningful’ general thoughts I may have until the end. After all, I’m here for four months, and in somewhere that the dynamism is evident from the moment you arrive, I don’t want to jump to conclusions too quickly.

I should probably also tell you a little bit about myself, and why I’m here…

The first three months of my time in India will be in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, where I am a research intern at Saath, a local NGO (saath.org). This internship is part of my Master’s degree in International Development, and the research I do here will constitute the main part of my thesis. I study at Utrecht University in the Netherlands, and before that I did my Bachelor’s degree at the University of Oxford (U.K.), where I studied Geography. One of my courses there was ‘Contemporary India’, and this really fuelled my interest for this fascinating place in which I now find myself.

I arrived almost three weeks ago, in the early hours of the morning, after a fairly average flight from London via Qatar. My transfer at Doha airport was probably three of the most uneventful hours of my life, at least there was free wifi, which allowed me to chat to some lovely people about how dull the airport was and how hilariously tacky the Qatar-inspired souvenirs were (seriously, how many things can you make shaped like a camel?). The airport was busy, sterile, and everyone seemed a bit miffed. It was like a department store at Christmas time. Regardless, I boarded my flight to Ahmedabad (one of only two non-South Asians) and arrived here safely. The queue at immigration was enormous, and I waited about an hour for my luggage, but eventually made it to my new house.

My accommodation is basic compared to what I’m used to, but I’ve definitely got the best room in the house. It’s probably about 9m² and has a terrace overlooking the street (I got the penthouse, essentially). It’s also the only room in the house that isn’t shared, although apparently I’m really paying for that privilege. This doesn't bother me though, since the rent here is almost four times cheaper than in Utrecht, but includes all of my food and laundry. Despite this, I won’t pretend that I’m not exactly going to miss showering out of a bucket (or sometimes there’s two – one hot and one cold) or not being able to speak the same language as anybody in my household. People seem surprised that I don’t speak Gujarati or at least Hindi, is it really that shocking?

Looking North from my terrace in the morning. 

The food has been great so far, breakfast is usually either a rice-based dish, or spicy roti, or occasionally deep-fried vegetables and paneer, always accompanied by a delicious cup of tea. Lunch is always packed for my in my tiffin (except on Sundays), which I take to the office with me, or wherever I’m going interviewing, and it’s generally roti or rice, vegetables of some sort (quite often cauliflower, which I’ve really come to love), and a spicy soup. Dinner varies greatly, but always appears in my room at around eight o’clock every evening, and it’s almost always delicious. I am reliably informed that Ahmedabad is the ice cream capital of India, something that I do not have a hard time believing. Aside from two of the extremely popular local brands – Amul and Havmor – there are endless other national and international brands for sale in countless freezers and parlours across the city, I really could get used to this.

An average dinner.

My first few days were spent being introduced to life at Saath and being shown around some of their programmes, including pre-schools (Balghar), their Micro-Finance programmes (very impressive), centres which train people in trades for the construction industry (Nirman), centres which give people general employment training and placement opportunities (Umeed), and their programme which supports local artisans and aims to save some of the local dying arts (Rweaves). First impressions were excellent, the organisation and their work are truly admirable and inspirational (I could go on, but there’s not much I can say that their website and blog doesn’t already). In order to get to the office, I take an auto rickshaw, which by now I’m able to direct through the city (shouting and using excessive hand gestures to get over the traffic noise and language barrier). These rides are a lot of fun, and apart from the mildly terrifying motorcycle rides I get occasionally from friends and colleagues, definitely my one of my favourite ways to experience Indian roads.

My morning commute.

Visit to one of Saath's Balghar programmes.

During this first stage, I also became acquainted with Robert and Adrian (both very friendly and interesting) from FedEx in the USA, who are here along with others from the company, in Ahmedabad for a month working with local organisations as part of their CSR initiative. Robert and Adrian are working with Saath, and their project looks at safety in the local construction industry.

After my first week, I met up with some family friends – Michael and John – who come to India every year, and one of their stops in Ahmedabad this year fortunately coincided with me being here. We don’t get to see each other too often, so it was lovely to have dinner and catch up with them, in fact, it was rather surreal, yet absolutely great. In my second week, I was introduced to my research assistant and translator, who is part of Saath’s programme Youth Force, whose members I am interviewing for my research (I’ll tell you all about that sometime soon). After a brief introduction to the programme and a visit to one of the centres, we got straight into the interviews, and somehow I managed to do eight in just three days! Which brings us back to 9 days ago, i.e. when my free time began.

With some of my first interviewees.

My first thing to do was plan my travels for the month I have after my internship here in Ahmedabad (mid-May until mid-June). I ploughed through my guidebook thinking that the south might be a little unbearable at that time of year (I’m not really a beach/temple person anyway), so decided to stick with the north. The plan is to go from here to Mumbai, and then as follows: Kolkata, Varanasi, Agra, Amritsar, Delhi, Jaisalmer, and Jodhpur. I’ve also booked two weekend trips in the coming weeks, the first to Jaipur, and the other to Udaipur. Apart from a few train tickets (which can’t be reserved more than sixty days in advance), I think it’s all booked and waiting for me.

So, I’m back to having nothing to do, but don’t quite realise this at the time (as far as I knew then, it was just going to be a couple of days off). Next idea: explore Ahmedabad’s tourist attractions. Again, I turn to the guidebooks, and see that most sights are in the old city. I jump in an auto rickshaw and head over to that side of town. It’s Sunday, so I don’t expect it to be too busy. I could not have been more wrong. It’s market day, and the streets of the old city are absolutely rammed with people buying and selling everything imaginable, including the odiferous meat market, complete with birds of prey swooping down from every corner of the sky to get their talons on some tasty entrails.

Walking through the old city.

 When I finally fight my way through the streets I come to my first stop, Sidi Sayyid’s mosque, a beautiful edifice, with some exquisitely carved windows. I then moved on to the fifteenth-century Jama Masjid. It was an oasis of calm in the bustling city, where I spent an hour or so wandering among the columns; admiring the stonework and watching the chipmunks dart around. From there, I went around the corner and after pushing my way through a large herd of very inquisitive goats, came to the tomb of Shah Ahmed I. That about completes my tourism in the city so far. I’m determined to go to the Calico Museum of Textiles before I leave (the tour starts at 8.30am and it’s on the other side of the city, so a very early start for me), and if I get really bored there’s always the Gandhi Ashram. I have quite enjoyed watching the development in my own street, which, since I arrived, has gained another house, and pavements.

Jali screens at Sidi Sayyid's mosque. 

Tourist-selfie at Jama Masjid.

Jama Masjid.

I have been into the office a couple of times this week, but the internet there isn’t working, and there not a lot else for me to be doing at the moment, so I have been attempting to ‘relax’. Boredom is my nightmare, and usually, this what ‘relaxing’ leads me to. I’m sure you’re thinking, how can one get bored in India?! I had the same thought, so after reading a few novels, I decided to walk around and see what there is to do near my house. I’ve covered about a 4km radius now, and found three malls (including two bookshops – thank goodness) and countless cows. Major observation about India number 1: COWS. They are everywhere, along with dogs. Indian malls are sadly everything I expected them to be: just like they are in Europe or the USA, except possibly worse. It is nice to see a mix of foreign and Indian brands, but at the same time apart from on Sunday it seems, most of the shops are empty except for a few extremely bored staff (who are probably considerably over-qualified for their jobs). When it’s busy everybody there (apart from the very few foreigners one might see), everyone is the same: either families or groups of young people, but all dressed extremely similarly, eating fast food, and seemingly attempting to display their status as part of contemporary India’s new middle class. I generally observe exactly what I’ve read about in various media and journal articles: scenes of excess, mass consumption, yet all in an ‘Indian way’ – a fusion of some of the worst aspects of both cultures. Despite holding little attraction for me in terms of shopping or food (although the Oreo milkshakes are delicious), the malls are fascinating places for a social scientist with an interest in contemporary Indian society, or globalisation in general – it really is in full force here.

Just one of many, many cows.

Major observation about India number 2: the noise. Nowhere before have I missed silence quite so much. There really never is a quiet moment here. The streets throng with traffic and the sound of engines and horns (it seems that one uses the horn to indicate your presence on the road to anything in the vicinity); there are always people on the phone, and music playing somewhere. Even in the middle of the night there are dogs fighting in the street, and the early mornings always bring the vegetable-sellers with their carts through the neighbourhood, shouting and ringing bells to alert residents to their presence. The 27^th February was Shivarathri, which meant music and a procession through the streets starting at around 7am (at least that’s when it woke me) until lunchtime, quite possibly the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. Although I must admit, something which seems to come with this constant noise is the acceptability of singing whenever and wherever, without anybody noticing or caring, something I can certainly get used to. Whilst the noise might get to me at times, it also demonstrates the undeniable vivacity of this place. Despite the never-ending sounds, there are moments of tranquillity, such as at dusk when I stand on my terrace and watch the countless bats of all sizes flying across the twilight sky, with such peace and grace, sometimes even low enough to seemingly make eye contact. The cows are also quite tranquil.

Shivarathri procession viewed from my terrace.

That is an extremely long first post; if a reader has made it this far, allow me to offer congratulations! I’ll try to make the following entries shorter, but I’m not promising anything.