Lifestyles of the poor and anonymous

While in India, volunteers are paid a stipend which is equivalent to a middle management NGO worker. We get the equivalent of about A$50 per week. While this amount can go a long way in India for an Indian, it is slightly more difficult for a foreigner. There is always the expectation that because we are foreigners, we are rich and so therefore are overcharged for many things - finding out the correct price is a constant battle. The other reason it is difficult is our own conditioning. It is very difficult to suddenly give up all the luxuries we are used to. Sometimes one just really needs that nice cup of coffee, or cold beer, or a weekend away, or a night out...

Volunteers are placed in accommodation, usually by their employers. There is a budget and guideline of minimum standards, which are very basic but do allow the luxuries of electricity and water (most of the time) and security.

Here are some pictures of my apartment when I first arrived. I have done some decorating in the past few weeks and will post some more photos soon.

I am living in a small collection of rooms at the top of a house in an old residential part of Bhubaneswar. The family who owns the house lives on the middle floor and another family lives on the bottom floor.

They have all adopted me as their daughter which at first is very flattering but I'm finding it also means I'm meant to play by the rules. The most imposing of these is my curfew which is 10.30pm when the front gate (for which I don't have a key) is locked. In reality it is always locked much earlier which necessitates a phone call and then discussions with everyone on where I've been and how I got home.

I need to also announce to the whole household when I'm going away or out at night - all details are required including where, with whom and when I'll be back. We then begin the negotiations of how late I can stay out. The upside of this is the occasional delivery of food when I've been ill so I guess it goes both ways.

Take a photo, it lasts longer

Remember when you were a kid and someone was staring at you. The response used to be why don't you take a photo, it lasts longer.

In India, staring is a national past time. I'm sure there is an entry in the Guinness Book Of World Records for staring and it is held by an Indian man. It is mainly the men that stare. It certainly takes some time to get used to it and after a while you don't notice it so much. Sometimes it is creepy and you have to say something. That is really not fun. Staring back doesn't work, apparently it is very suggestive.

But why stop at staring. Foreigners are such a highlight in India that one is often asked to have their photo taken with a random family. Or people just hold up their mobile phone and take a photo of you or shoot video as you are going about your business. This tends to be happen more around tourist areas, not so much in Bhubaneswar. Although the guy at the off-shop took a photo of me yesterday while I was getting some supplies - probably not a good look.

A group of five of us visited the Sun Temple in Konark last weekend. There it was relentless. We arrived quite late and wanted to see everything before the sun set. This didn't leave much time for family snaps with strangers so we had to keep declining the offers. This didn't stop dozens of people from photographing or filming us anyway. Our guide was getting quite cranky and telling people to delete the photos they took of us. In the end he got into a loud verbal stoush with a couple of guys who were adamant we should pose in a photo with them. It was unbelievable. The temple was amazing but the experience was somewhat sullied by this ridiculous attention. 

Why anyone would want to be famous is beyond me.

Settling In

It's amazing how time flies! Nearly three weeks ago I arrived back in Bhubaneswar. It is nice to finally be in one spot and have somewhere to call home after more than a year of living out of a suitcase.

The past few weeks I have been busy with doing all the things one needs to do when setting up a new home, as well as fulfill all the Indian government requirements for foreign residents.

Most things take time, require patience, and leave you a little bit nuts at the end of it. Getting internet connected was a bit of a saga. Now I can move onto things like opening a bank account and purchasing a set of wheels.

Bhubaneswar is a pretty big city but there aren't very many western conveniences. The city is currently enjoying a property boom thanks to all the mining money in Orissa. There are huge billboards around town selling new luxury apartments with the help of Indian cricket players.

Nightlife is almost non-existent. Of course there are restaurants and most shops reopen just before sunset and stay open until around 9 or 10pm but bars and clubs are very limited. There is one relatively new club we went to the past two Saturdays. When word gets out there are foreign women there, the crowd miraculously grows. Better than the six or so people who were there before we arrived. We also have the owner drive us all home in the wee hours of the morning.

India is extremely conservative and it is taking some getting used to. It is not appropriate for women to drink, let alone buy alcohol, or smoke cigarettes. Being out at night is not ideal - maybe occasionally for dinner or a party but one is expected to return home by 10pm - maybe 10.30pm. 

One annoyance is paying foreigners prices for things. The pale skin means money so many try to overcharge for things like food at the markets or auto rickshaw rides around town. It takes a while to figure out what you really need to be paying for things.

My neighbourhood is getting used to having a foreign lady in their midst and the kids are starting to walk with me as I go down to get an auto rickshaw. Conversation hasn't developed much past hello, how are you, I am fine - but that's a good start.

Oh - and the heat. It is very hot all the time and being on the top floor, my room becomes a sauna most afternoons. I am told it is unseasonally cool at the moment. I never thought I'd hear temperatures from 38-43 degrees being referred to as unseasonally cool but there you go!

It's just a game

Thus far I have neglected to mention the other religion here in India. Cricket.

Cricket is a religion here and its players are the gods. Sachin is THE man - there is no question about that. Most or all of the players have sponsorships and endorsements and you see their faces everywhere promoting everything from real estate developments to soaps and toothpastes.

Being here in India for the World Cup, and in Delhi for most of it, has been a real treat.

When a game is being played there are people everywhere crowding around TV screens and radios to hear the latest.

In the first week we found a bar at the nearby Kahn Market that on the outside looked like Cafe Z but when we arrived, noticed that it was actually Cafe Oz (the O has fallen off the sign outside). Cringingly I entered this Australian bar which has now turned into our destination for watching the cricket. With happy hours and plenty of TV screens, it has been a busy venue for young modern Indians, and us.

People were mostly kind and sympathetic when I sat there in my ICC World Cup Australia shirt watching India beat us. The rest of the time, we have backed India, last night even donning face paint to show support.

Every boundary hit by India provokes whistles, cheers, group hugs and high fives. Getting a wicket is almost deafening - whether you are in a venue to watch the game or just out in the street.

After every Indian win, Delhi has erupted in fireworks - some looking a bit official, and some sounding like bombs or guns being fired. After India beat Pakistan last week we all ran up to the rooftop of the ISI (where we are staying) to watch the fireworks around Delhi. Some were not too far off hitting us.

The excitement in the city has been fantastic, work stops for every game and I suspect many things will be shut today and tomorrow as India recovers from its celebrations.

Congratulations India!

The Rose

The final day of ICO training in Delhi was capped off in grand style. The usual Welcome Party for new volunteers was combined with a VIP visitors welcome - the Rose of Tralee.

Ireland's current Rose of Tralee, Clare Kambamettu, is of part-Indian heritage. As a VSO ambassador, Clare has spent the past week or so in India visiting family, some of VSO's NGO partners and now us - the volunteers. Clare and her film crew have been travelling around making a documentary destined for prime-time Irish TV. Only a couple of weeks ago she was in the White House meeting the Obamas!

I had a few disasters getting ready including burning a hole in my new silk Anakarli with the iron - oh the pressure of getting dressed up!

There had been a real buzz in the VSO office the past few days with everyone getting ready for the visit - it had been a huge event in the VSO calendar. Anil, the chef had set up a kitchen out in the garden and was preparing huge pots of food all day. The menu was fantastic - butter chicken, mutton korma along with the usual dahl and veg dishes.

It was a really nice evening and lovely to see all of the VSO women dressed in their beautiful sarees.