Tales from the Island of Serendip 4 4

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which sets us free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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While my second visit was better planned, it yet had its share of misery. The Indian High Commission web site wouldn't allow me to submit the visa application, and I tried 18 times - each time writing the seven page form again - before it finally decided to play ball.

 

I had to transfer in Dubai. However delays meant that by the time we disembarked, I had only a few minutes to run the length of the airport, again barely making the flight in time.

 

I arrived early, at 8.30 am on 4th April. Lucina had assured me that Latif would come to pick me up, but this was unconfirmed, I had no cell phone, and it was a long way from the village, and he would have had to borrow a car and set out very early in the morning. (I once had a similar arrangement go wrong when someone turned up to meet me a day early!)

 

Outside the terminal stood a thousand Bengalis, all eyes on me when I failed to move on.

 

No sign of Latif...

 

I decided to keep faith, and stood waiting in the foetid heat.The airline crew who had been so friendly on board, walked by with icy stares fixed to the horizon. A local, taking pity on the seemingly bewildered foreign tourist politely asked me if I wanted a taxi?

 

"I am waiting for my family", I told him, perhaps more firmly than I felt.

 

Suddenly a compact bundle of energy hurtled out from the crowd and tackled me around the waist. It was Mridula's youngest daughter, Irina, soon followed by her father Latif and other members of the family. When we all hugged, I swear the crowd roundabout gave a collective sigh.

 

 

 

 

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At Mir Para, I felt as if I'd not been away. The new house was still being built, though the main room had been completed, and the tent dismantled. I had brought gifts for everyone. Lucina's younger sister Lilufar had asked me the previous visit if I had any coins? I had not, but the question lingered in my mind, and some instinct told me it was more than a casual question.

 

 

She was especially delighted when I brought her a set of British coins. She confessed that she loved to go to Kolkata Museum and stare at the ancient coins there for hours at a time.

 

 

I had seen Lilufar - or "Choto" as she is known, infrequently on my previous visit. She always seemed to be working. This time, I established that she was working in a tiny privately owned local school. She would begin teaching at 6.00 am. Then she would come home, help her mom with the household chores, and do tuition of neighbors' children long into the evening. She was evidently worn out by this exhausting routine, constantly tired. Her wage for this labor? Rupees 600 per month. That's less than $10. I'm happy to say that I've since gotten her out of that job, and have sent her funds to go on an 18 month computer course and an EFL course.

 

One of my first chores was to revisit Tuku and discuss her unfinished house. Her daughter is growing and there is urgent need to ease the pressure as the extended family grows. So we decided that the best course of action would be to get one room fully ready, which meant laying down a concrete floor, plastering the walls, fixing doors, windows and electricals, and the toilet. Hopefully she and her husband and daughter will be in by Christmas.

 

Lucina was facing a big problem with delayed payment of her grant. She was out of funds and would not get paid until October. This threatened her capacity to complete the PhD, as well as someone very close to her. So in addition to paying for the rent and furnishing her apartment, I'm covering her living expenses until October, as well as her friend's.

 

But if you, dear reader, imagine I am telling you this to impress you with some false generosity, I assure you the reverse is true. Nothing in my life is more meaningful - not even the arts and health agency I've been building in the UK for the past 20 years.

 

 

 

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There followed a number of excursions... and an adventure in cooking at Lucina's flat which was somewhat disastrous.

 

 

 

 

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Wrong ingredients,wrong kitchen

 

 

 

 

 

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- a bad chef blames his tools, right?

 

 

 

 

 

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Poppy (Evina) and Lilufar wanted to go shopping in a busy clothing area in south Kolkata called Goriahut....

 

 

 

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Irina and Lija also wanted out for a while. So the deal I made with Latif, a devil's contract really, to make sure Irina and Evina were favored equally, meant that I went out shopping twice in the same day, the second time after Irina got home from school.

 

 

 

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