Purple

Last Thursday night, I had my first proper bus ride in this city. It was more of a bone-rattling alternative to walking than a means of public transport. The bus would barely get going from a traffic light when it would slow down to pick up more passengers. It reminded me of the ancient, noisy buses I used to get to school everyday, only most of the interior was made of wood. My housemate spotted another Puja parade and suggested we get off. I had no objections. The parade was made up of drummers, dancers, musicians and a large, brightly-lit effigy. We took a few photos and then it trundled down a side street and we continued on the main road. Then we heard more drums on the other side of the road. As we stood on the fence dividing the road to take photos, some of the dancers spotted us and dragged us straight into the mêlée. The were sweating as if they had been dancing for hours and their faces were caked with some kind of colourful powder. Without warning, I was doused in bright purple powder as I danced with the locals. The stuff went everywhere but I barely noticed. I was too caught up in dancing like a loon. The noise from the drums was ear-splitting. Suddenly, I found myself shouting “India is great!” with the dancers. If I tried that at home, I'd be locked up for disorderly conduct in a public place. It was only when I saw my two friends that I discovered how purple we had become. Our heads looked like a bunch of inflated grapes. After ten minutes of frenzied dancing, the powder had bonded nicely with the sweat and my skin. Well, I just had to laugh after I saw my photo. We got a combination of stares and smiles from the people we passed on the street. At last, I got what people back home warned me about. We looked like a trilogy of clowns let out of the circus for a night on the town. We gave our other housemates a good shock when we walked in the door. It took ten minutes of scrubbing in the shower to get most of the stuff off. I have been converted.


Eating food in Kolkata is hard work. Last week, I had dinner in what is probably the smallest restaurant I've ever been in. It has two tables and five chairs. It'll take four people at the most. The first time I went there, I thought it was just a take-away. And I wasn't very impressed with the watery boiled rice. So the next time, I got fried rice and it was much better. Every time I go into a restaurant to eat, they warn me that the dish I've just ordered is spicy. I think they're more used to Westerners that are terrified of spices. I can't get enough of them. And I've yet to have a dish that's spicier than anything I've eaten back home. But still, it's hard work because the restaurant is so small and the plate is like a miniature furnace. It may be the last day in October but it's still warm. I'm walking around in shorts and a t-shirt at nine o'clock at night. So, as usual, I start sweating. The people in the restaurant think there's something wrong with me. They think I can't handle the spices of the dish in front of me. What I have trouble with is the heat rising off the plate. I still enjoyed it immensely. I enjoyed the risk of sitting in a restaurant, watching the cook slice up a chicken that looked like it was killed earlier that day. It can't make me ill. The gas flames looked hot enough to melt teeth. I'm going back there because it's nice to be remembered with a smile and a greeting. Tourists talk about how “friendly” Irish people are. What a bunch of lies. They should come to India and discover what friendly people are really like. People like Raz, the guy who helped me out in the post office one day. I thought I'd never see him again until he greeted me one morning outside the liaison office. I was so surprised that I'd forgotten who he was. But I hadn't forgotten that he's going to college in Leicester, England next year. He hadn't forgotten where I said I was from. I didn't need to tell him to visit Ireland. Most of the people I've met have told me I come from a beautiful country. I feel humbled because India is just stunning. I can't wait to see more of the countryside...