Singapore

Delhi

We spent the night in Delhi before flying out to Singapore early the next day. For those of you who have been to Delhi, you will understand why I don’t elaborate on this idyllic den of vice. For those of you who haven’t, then you can count yourself lucky you haven’t been ripped off.  Delhiites are infamous throughout India for being completely morally corrupt. Dan and I stayed at the Marriot in Gurgaon and had several issues with the hotel and staff, (which I won’t bore you with) but due to our excellent complaining skills, managed to get ourselves 20,000 extra Marriott points.  It really does pay to complain!

Singapore

We landed in Singapore airport and immediately a felt sense of calm. Singapore airport is a beautiful and ORGANISED airport.  A cheap and yet efficient airport bus picked us up and dropped us off directly at the hotel. Driving through the city, the main thing that stuck me after being in India for two months was the cleanliness. I always thought I would find Singapore be a very sterile city as I like a bit of dirt in my cities, but it was incredibly refreshing to see no garbage on the streets, no line of men peeing on the side of the street, no piles of dog (or human) excrement on the street, no beggars or homeless people on the street and no-one chasing you down the street trying to sell you yet another useless trinket. Don’t get me wrong-I love India but it is also nice to leave. I did however miss the aroma of spice in the air.

After arriving at our hotel, we ventured off for a late dinner at a food court close by - the selection while a little bewildering (serpents head anybody?) was most exciting to gluttons like us. I was quite surprised that  it really was not as clean as I would have thought it would be.  I think what put me off this particular establishment was the fact that majority of the patrons seemed to like leaving large mounds of meat scraps and bones on the table after they were done eating - not exactly appetising!

The next day, Dan and I woke up early and decided to take the cable car into Sentosa Island. Sentosa is the equivalent of a very large theme park. There are several different activities (or ways to part with your singapore dollar) including the aquarium, 4D rides, luge and skylifts (luges are essentially bobsleds on wheels), butterfly park, light shows etc. As we had limited time, Dan and I decided to visit the Aquarium, the Luge and finally the Skylift (far to lazy to walk back up the hill).

The Aquarium was your standard salty water, fish smelling, lots of little kids with ice cream hands type of thing  incorporating the common or garden dolphin show. What was impressive in the acquarium was the large tunnel which you could walk through featuring some very large sharks (no white sharks to my distress but probably to the relief of the ‘experience’ divers in the tunnel).  

After a spot of lunch at the on-site food court (no Nemo burgers sadly) we got the free bus to the luge. This was pretty cool for lazy types like us - fast adrenaline inducing downhill fun via a windy track with zero effort required and then a ski lift contraption back up for a another try (again zero effort).

We took the cable car back to the main Island and decided to explore Chinatown. We went to the Hawker centre and looked at the many things we could potentially buy if we had luggage space and jobs.   Thoroughly depressed, we then went off in search of the historic Raffles Hotel which apparently is a must-see when visiting Singapore (embarrassingly Dan seems to need to take lots of pictures of such sights, eliminating anybody actually thinking that we might be staying there - that and our North Face fleeces). To quote Wikipedia as I am far too lazy to describe it for you - ‘Raffles Hotel (Chinese: 莱佛士酒店) is a colonial-style hotel in Singapore, dating from 1887, and named after Singapore's founder Sir Stamford Raffles. Its aluminium-finish and simple geometric designs gave a stark, modernist contrast to Victorian architecture and classical architecture’. So yes, it was very nice and then we had dinner in the adjoining shopping centre as our budget no longer allows for expensive dinners (sob).

We carried on our walking tour of Singapore and passed the amazing building which is the Marina Bay Sands. Singapore has some really beautiful architecture and the Marina Bay Sands is no exception. It was opened very recently in 2010 and consists of three essentially curved buildings with what looks like a very large concrete ship on it. We unfortunately didn’t have time to visit it but gives us something to do next time and some more aspirations as to where we would want to stay!

We were knackered after all this - so we tried a couple more shops, a mad market and then hopped on Singapore's very efficient and clean metro service home.

Next morning, we hopped on the flight to Bankok dreaming of all the chillis awaiting us-our own version of heaven.

Mumbai

An unexpected announcement from the cockpit on final approach always rattles the nerves. Perhaps I have watched too many episodes of ‘Seconds from Disaster’, but that ‘Ding Dong’ noise goes right through me. However, our descent in Mumbai was not delayed due to any problems with our aircraft, but due to a suspected fire on another (a cargo plane) cue sigh of relief and mental calculations as to how long a 737 can circle for and whether we might be able to make it to Pune instead.

Monali's cousin's children (you may recognise them from the wedding!)

Of course my concern was completely out of place and we all landed safely into Mumbai’s airport. The airport (for those who don’t know it) is located in central Mumbai and the approach gives unbelievable views of the city and especially the slum. Shack upon shack are stacked so tightly together, and in some cases so close to the airport that the genius slum builders have used the airport wall as the back wall of their home.

Monali’s cousin and his family kindly offered to put us up while we were in Mumbai. He also very kindly picked us up, stopping on the way back to pick ‘mishtidoi’ (sweet yoghurt), Monali’s favourite dessert. Well we call it dessert, Monali’s strong held opinion on the subject of sweets and sugar based products is that it is actually demeaning to call them just ‘desserts’ and that they should be treated as appetisers, main course and perhaps even the cheese course.

Crab for dinner

That evening we diluted some of the sugar by dining on seafood at a restaurant called Gajalee. The food was divine, best of all were the crab sticks (crab claws covered in crab meat and cooked in the tandoor). After dinner Monali’s cousin drove us downtown for a night time tour. We saw numerous houses of the rich and famous including the ‘Ambani’s’ house (Google it!), the new ‘sealink’ bridge (very impressive), marine drive and the Trident hotel (scene of the 26/11 shootings in 2008). Mumbai certainly looked a lot more modern than anywhere else I had seen in India.

The next day we succumbed to this modernity and hit the Phoenix Mills mall. It is very depressing to wander around all those fantastic new shops, many of which are offering better prices than at home knowing that (a) you are on a budget and (b) your rucksack will explode with the tiniest additional purchase. We cheered ourselves up by eating chicken kathi rolls at the food court instead.

The unpleasant path to Haji Ali

After the mall we visited Haji Ali Mosque which is set out in the sea (on the site where Haji Ali’s body is supposed to have floated to) connected to the mainland by a causeway. The mosque was tremendously busy and a little intimidating as a result. People seemed more inquisitive than threatening especially at the mosque itself, but the sight of disfigured children begging at 5 metre intervals on the causeway along with the smell of the human and other waste in the bay meant we quickly completed our tour.

Outside a very busy Haji Ali

We took a taxi back to the apartment which took 2 hours to drive the 14/15 km journey. The traffic here is crazy – nothing moves very fast, which means you are a target for hawker and beggar at every traffic light. Most of them quickly move off when you decline, however the Hijra’s (groups of transsexual who make a living by demanding money and cursing those who refuse to donate) are quite persistent – stupidly we gave one of them some money (too much money) which then just made her (him) worse. After that episode we developed excellent poker faces ignoring all approaches at traffic stops.

On our second day we got up early to go the Elephanta caves. Indians (and this may apply to the rest of Asia?) are totally crap at getting up and out early. As a result our taxi to the Gateway of India took 45 mins (the same journey that took 2 hours the previous day) and the boat to the island on which the caves are present was empty. The boat journey takes about an hour and is pretty boring, so boring that one group of young Indian men decided to occupy themselves by continually swapping seats such that each could sit next to me and have his photo taken with ‘the white man’.

The Gateway of India

The temple caves themselves are wonderful and made us a little sad that we had not planned to go see the larger complexes in Ajanta and Ellora. They are believed to have been built sometime between AD 450 and 750, the name Elephanta was given by the Portuguese as there used to be  a large Elephant shaped rock near the shore (moved by the British to a Mumbai museum after it collapsed a hundred years ago or so).

Spotty deity

Which one is the Pussy Cat?

Looking to get a taxi home we wandered down the main street of Colaba past a heavily fortified Leopold’s bar / restaurant. Leopold’s is a famous tourist hang out and features heavily in the book Shantaram (great read) where the ex-pat protagonist uses the bar to meet his pals. Sadly it is also famous as another location targeted by terrorists a couple of years back.

 As we crossed the road (avoiding the numerous heavily armed policemen) I was approached by a man who (in his words) ‘was from Bollywood’ and would I like to be in a movie. Seems that all hip Bollywood flicks now have to have at least one act full of foreigners, but there are never enough extras. Fearing that Aishwarya Rai or some other  Bollywood beauty might fall for me I declined the offer, but am still wondering if it could have been my calling!

You cannot escape Bollywood anywhere in India and least of all here and so we decided to go to the cinema that evening. Being a self-confessed idiot when it comes to the cultural appreciation and entertainment value of these drama-action-musical-religious epics we chose to indulge in a bit of Jolie-Depp action instead. Forking out a whole 300 INR a ticket seemed a little steep until we found out what the ‘premium’ section was all about. Think red velvet, fully electrically adjustable ‘lazy boy chairs’ with soft mood lighting and plenty of space – seems when the Indians design luxury they style for brothel, but the comfort was undeniable. In fact it was by far the best bit of ‘The Tourist’, yet another film where we are teased by the presence of an acting god (Depp) only to have our hopes dashed by a crap story. At least Angelina was as foxy as ever (although she pales in comparison with Monali of course).  

We spent our last full day in Mumbai wandering around Andheri West the area where we had been staying.  The area feels very relaxed in comparison the hustle bustle of tourist Mumbai. Perhaps as a result the prices around here also great – we indulged in 70 rupee chicken rolls at lunch time and I got a haircut and shave for 150 rupees (admittedly i could have bargained this down given my lack of hair).

We ended the day by walking down the park where it seems the entire grey-haired population of Mumbai takes exercise each evening. For the men (and a few women) this involves walking laps of the (small) park trying to dodge all the other octogenarians – the paths were full of them, all dressed for exercise - exactly the same clothes they always – shirt pants or sari only the footwear being changed to a pair of very white sports shoes.

We woke up early the next day and bid farewell to the family and jumped in a taxi to the airport for a flight to Delhi – we had one day left in India before we headed to SE Asia.  

Kerala

We left Ooty at 9.30am bound for Cochin (new name Kochi) in Kerala around 300km to the south. This is a journey that would take around three hours in the UK, however in India it takes precisely FOREVER.

The first part of the journey entails an hour or so of driving down switchback roads with no side barriers and a multitude of obstacles such as monkeys, rocks, pilgrims and huge big buses coming the other way. One devotee (who it seems isn’t spending enough time talking with his god) was innocently making his way down the hill when he was knocked over by the large truck in front of us. Neither party seemed happy.

We felt comfortable enough to breath once more once we reached Coimbatore. This town marks the end of the descent and the border between Tamil Nadu and Kerala. The pain for us was not over as now our driver (who doesn’t speak or read English, the local lingo or maps) gets exceptionally nervous about missing the Keralan border and accompanying toll booth. As a result he made us honorary navigators. I’m not sure how many times he asked “Kerala?” and we replied “no, Tamil Nadu”, but by we were exceptionally relieved to see the sign announcing that we finally were entering ‘Gods’ Own Country’.

However, the fun did not end there – a combination of “Einstein’s” (our quickly coined nickname for Hussain our driver) lack of literacy and India’s strange road signing (consistency is not considered vital here with the Cochin Road signposted variously as Cochin, Kochi, Fort Kochi, Ernauklam or not at all) meant that we had to confirm the direction of travel at every green sign post.

We reached Fort Kochi 9 hours later at 6.30pm. We were exhausted and happy to find that our accommodation was clean and our hosts very hospitable. We had the obligatory 60 minutes of discussion with the driver as to what the costs should be, but eventually we came to an agreement. We grabbed a bite to eat and then went to bed, excited about exploring our new home.

Jewtown

Next morning, Firoz (the owner of our guesthouse) gave us a quick briefing of the local sights and we wandered into town. We stated off in Jewtown which was once home to a large Jewish population, now much diminished after the establishment of Israel. As the Jews moved out, the traders (and their touts) moved in- the place is flooded with antique stores, souvenir shops and overpriced waterfront cafes. Its all very pleasant, but a little bit too sanitised for our taste.

We wandered on from Jewtown towards Fort Kochi past a multitude of old warehouses and workshops all of which will likely be worth lots of money given their proximity to the picturesque seafront. Fort Kochi is a bustling  little place with tourists from all over India and the world.  We sat by the Chinese Fishing Nets watching the birds float past sitting on little islands of pollution.

Chinese Fishing Nets

After a couple of days in Kochi we headed off to the backwaters for which Kerala is famous. We had booked a palace (The Green Palace Resort to be exact) and first impressions were great as we were met at the dock by our boatman.

Blissfully unaware of the hotel to come!

However we should have paid more attention to the strong smell of liquor coming off the boatman’s breath rather than the beautiful surroundings as this place turned out to be awful. First it poured down with rain (not the hotel’s fault) resulting in leaks all over the room (the hotels fault). Then we spotted the bugs all over the sheets and carcasses all over the room – heaven. Finally the bathroom stank like a sewer and had a door made of cardboard. We could not move that night so we forced them to erect a (very dirty) mosquito net and conducted a romantic torch lit insect vigil until morning.

The view from room number one

We moved rooms the next day only to be immediately confronted by more bugs in the bed, a disgusting bathroom (where the water from the cistern flushed out onto the floor) and a mouse. Yes another, bloody mouse! Luckily (or unluckily for the mouse) we trapped him under a cupboard using a large standing fan. We called the hotel owner who initially categorically denied that there was a mouse in the room until I showed him a little tail sticking out from under the cupboard. This deeply Christian man (he lectured another guest on the bible) then took a boat oar and bludgeoned poor Micky to death. The Keralan Mouse Murderer then left with a smile on his face and not a hint of an apology – we decided it was time to depart.

Urrgh

Note the fan holding back the ferocious mouse!

We spent the next two days back in Kochi with Firoz. His place was a world apart with good a/c and a fantastic bathroom. Kochi is also really nice with a relaxed, cosmopolitan feel and some great Southern Indian Food. We took time to enjoy the specialities of the south:

We had an authentic Ayuverdic massage – performed on a very hard wooden table by two masseurs who have been expertly trained in pouring copious amounts of oil and hurting every muscle in your body. This is followed by a sit in the steam bath – one of those box type things where only your head sticks out. Painful, intimidating (look up ‘lungi’) experience, but makes you feel great afterwards.

Trapped in a steam box

 We ate the New Anadan Bhaven which is a very ‘local’ restaurant complete with large flying cockroaches who decided to entertain themselves chasing Monali out the front door. I had no idea she could move so fast (or scream so loud). However the food was that great we returned the next day for lunch whereupon the owner’s completely spoiled us by continually bringing us different types of food to try and only charging about £1.50 for the privilege.

75 INR of food

Cow (and Farmyard) Porn for Craig

Name that Breed:

Mysore & Ooty

Mysore

The land of sandalwood, ashtanga yoga and very interesting ayurvedic massages.  The 3 hour journey from Bangalore was a scenic one with lush green paddy fields and the ever present cows meandering along the roads. We hired a driver for our 5 day trip from Bangalore to Mysore to Ooty (Tamil Nadu) to Kochi (Kerala).  I was quite pleased to find out he didn’t speak much English as often times Drivers like to impart any and all information that they have gleaned throughout their lives –whether it is relevant to the journey  or not!

Mysore's Bazaar

We stayed at the Shree Guru Residency Hotel in Mysore which was like a 5 star resort after the hotel in Bangalore. The best part of the hotel was the incredible vegetarian restaurant on the premises-the food was not only dirt cheap but mouth-wateringly good and I still have dreams about it. The bathroom was as abysmal as that in Bangalore, but just got an extra 50 rolls of toilet paper so that I could layer the seat before sitting down-NOT my favourite experience!!!  Why are we such a dirty nation? My entire family is anal retentive so trying to figure out if maybe we are just an anomaly. Sorry-I digress again (bad habit). Back to Mysore-there is a lovely old palace there and we did our obligatory tourist duty of wandering around it pointing and gasping at the wonders it contained. I think Dan and i are starting to get touristed out as we are finding palaces a little dull at this point. We spent the rest of the day trying to find a Wifi cafe only to realise that this phenomenon does not actually exist in Mysore.

Vegetarian food can be nice (but only in certain places)

The next day Dan and I went off to the Mysore zoo to meet some white tigers and also so that Dan could get to know his relatives (the chimpanzees) a little better.  The funniest part was when we got approached by 4 Indian men asking me if it was alright if I took their picture. Me, being my helpful self, agreed to take their picture but quickly realised their intent when they began positioning themselves around my white man.  I returned their camera with a firm ‘No!’ and rescued Dan from their clutches. Unfortunately, I was not there to save him later that day when we went for our ayurvedic massages. We picked a really bad place and my massage was possibly the worst massage I have ever experienced.  Dan’s massage was probably on par with mine except that the masseuse also offered to massage his sensitive regions to which he replied a polite ‘No thank you’. I suppose the masseuse thought maybe that would make up for the crappy massage.

Sloth bear at Mysore Zoo

Ooty:

So earlier when I was commenting on how great it was that our driver didn’t speak English, I began to realise this was not such a good thing as he apparently couldn’t read any road signs and had no idea where he was driving. The journey from Mysore to Ooty should ideally have taken 2-3 hours but ended up taking 4-5 hours due to the fact that the driver refused to listen when I was giving directions as apparently women don’t know how to read either; he would stop every two minutes and ask people walking on the street which way to go and each person would tell him a different direction; he then took to flagging down passing cars by 1) either cutting them off or 2) flagging them down from the wrong lane while an oncoming truck would be headed our way.  He finally found another fellow idiot driver and the two of them would stop every 5 minutes to discuss the directions despite the fact that there is only ONE road to Ooty!!!!! Lord save me from fools. 

Bling

We finally got to Ooty in one piece and checked into the The Grand Sapphire hotel in Ooty, a hotel which was designed possibly 50 years ago and has not been updated since. The only thing missing was the disco glitter ball in the middle of the room.

Caption Competition?

Ooty is known as Queen of the Hill Stations in India in the Nilgiri district which is also famous for tea plantations. Ooty is particularly famous for its ‘toy train’ which connects Ooty to Mettupalayam, at the foot of the Nilgiris. This mountain railway is in fact now a UNESCO world heritage site. Dan and I caught the train from halfway at Coonor railway station. The train looks like a cute blue toy train with wooden coaches and large windows. It is pushed up the hills from behind by a diesel engines, and it is possibly the slowest train in India as it averages 10.4km an hour. From Coonor, the train reaches the highest point on the track which is 2,218m. It truly is a lovely experience and we paid the princely sum of 3 Indian Rupees each for the privilege and an extra 15 indian rupees to reserve a seat!! You have to love Indian prices.

From there, we decided to go and find a bottle of wine as it was New Years Eve and we thought we could enjoy a drink on the New Years. What we didn’t realize that wine is just not a possibility here. They did sell something called ‘Red Wine’ in a bottle but looking at the regulars drinking this substance, we made the very wise decision to abstain. We drove around for a while looking for somewhere to go and have dinner for New Years, but I had a very bad cold too so Dan and I finally decided to go back to the hotel and have dinner there. It was absolutely freezing in the hotel so we put on as many clothes as we could find including my stocking cap and thick socks, cuddled under the blankets and waited for midnight. Also, I forgot to mention there was no cable tv so we were limited to India today news which was enlightening as always. Not our best new year and I think you will feel our pain when you see our picture below.

Bangalore

Indians have invented time travel! No flux capacitor needed here, just a Boeing 737-700 and a four hour odd flight from Guwahati transports you around twenty years to the future. This magical place has an airport with clean bathrooms, a spotless, modern taxi service with driver who insists on using the meter, and shopping malls with every worldwide brand you could think of (plus a few domestic ones that will be arriving in a city near you soon). In fact the only thing not modern about Bangalore is the name change Bengaluru which apparently means Town of Boiled Beans or something similar.

We touched down about 9.30pm from Guwahati (via Calcutta) and thanks to the aforementioned taxi we got into our budget hotel at about 10.30-11pm. Traffic here is supposed to be awful and seems we were lucky to make the 40km drive from the airport in decent time.

We stayed at a place on the ‘MG’ (Mahatma Gandi) road at a small place called Shree Lakshmi Comforts. So many roads in India are named after famous politicians and statesman, as may have unpronounceable names the roads inevitable get shorted to two or three letters.

In the dim evening light Sri Laksmi Comforts looked pretty grim. An outdated bathroom with ceramics in dulux’s ‘nicotine yellow’ and bedroom walls that detailed many a battle between flip flop and mosquito. While we are on the subject Indians believe bathroom tiles are self cleaning. Floors, showers and toilets all get cleaned (to a certain extent) daily, but tiles remain untouched, collecting an assortment of soap suds, water stains and bodily fluids such that they probably contain a comprehensive DNA database of each person that has stayed there. I am surprised that the Tate Modern has not snapped more of this stuff up.

The first of many beautiful bathrooms...

While the light of the new day did not add any shine to the bathroom it did make Sri Laksmi seem a whole lot more bearable. The common areas of the hotel were spick and span, there was fast, free wifi in the lobby and the location was excellent. Best of all, the staff were extremely friendly and their accurate and up to date knowledge of the cricket score was invaluable.

We only had one day in Bangalore so we spent it wandering around trying to get to know the city. The place seems great for shopping – we passed by dozens of antiquities, jewellery and homeware stores sadly our luggage capacity and budget meant that we avoided disappointing ourselves by walking on by.

Almost as good as the real Petra!

We found the Garuda mall which provides an exceptionally grand shopping experience (relative to what we have seen in India so far). Six floors containing big brands, a cinema, pubs and a huge food court.  If the retail therapy doesn’t cure your ills then you can try the spa on the fifth floor. There you can indulge in a ‘fish massage’ where hundreds of a little doctor fish nibble the dead skin off your feet or hands. Normally one whiff of my hot smelly feet would send any sane creature scarpering, but these little fellas came running (well swimming).  It is an unnerving experience, but after a while not an unpleasant one. The end result (and I get the feeling I might be on the verge of emasculating myself here) is wonderful – very clean looking feet and with all the old skin gone it is like walking on air.

Fish food

We walked back to the hotel after lunch just in time to watch India lose a brace of wickets in their match against South Africa. England were whipping Australian arse in the Ashes so it made chatting with the lobby staff double the fun.

Bangalore's new Metro

That evening we met up with Monali’s cousin who studies in Bangalore and his father who also happened to be in town. As we wandered down MG road we noticed Bangalore’s latest new toy ‘the metro’ which will hopefully make getting around this place a lot easier. They have actually set up a whole ‘dummy carriage’ so that people can interact with train before it starts operating. As we smugly wandered past thinking how smart we were that we can use an Oyster card without having to practice, it suddenly dawned that as much as this is a land of contradictions, India is making some really smart moves. Moves that we will all be thankful for 30 or 40 years in the future should we not wish to be dominated by a certain eastern dragon. 

Article from the Assam Tribune

GUWAHATI, Dec 19 – At some point in life, every individual feels an inclination to contribute something worthwhile to society. Not for nothing, therefore, Dan and Monali, the husband and wife couple from UK felt the same which brought them to Assam and saw them traversing the remote areas on the outskirts of the capital city and helping out the needy.

Dan and Monali had quit their jobs in UK to volunteer in Parijat Academy, a school for the underprivileged children located at Pamohi. Founded by Uttam Teron, this school has been providing free education to the children of the poverty struck families of Pamohi and other adjoining areas.

“Dan and I have thought about doing some social volunteering for some time now, but unfortunately other commitments kept intruding on our aspiration. We pacified our conscience with very occasional volunteering and donations to various welfare societies, but the desire to do something more substantial never abated. Finally we decided and took the plunge,” said Monali.

Assam became the destination because Monali, who is an Assamese, though not raised here thought that it would be nice to give something back to the community. “In Assam there is significant need for support in social and economic development. Education is a key area of concern,” observed Monali.

It needs to be mentioned here that overseas volunteers have been landing at ParijatAcademy quite frequently and apart from teaching the school students, these volunteers also transfer their experience and expertise to the families of these children so that they can improve their living status.

Uttam Teron said that the children have greatly benefited from the volunteering. Starting in 2003 as a one classroom, four student school, Parijat Academy now offers freeeducation to 502 children from nine impoverished tribal villages. So far the school has benefited from the volunteering of seven overseas men and women.

“We began our volunteering at Parijat Academy one month ago and it has been an incredibly inspirational experience for us,” expressed Monali.

The couple visited three tribal villages in the Garbhanga area, near the Assam Megahlaya border to view the outreach centres of Parijat Academy. To reach the centres they had to travel along an almost non-existent rocky and precarious road.

During the rainy season, Garbhanga is accessible only by foot. The only concrete building in the whole area is the governmentschool which teaches Classes I-IV.

“It was heartening to meet the sole teacher at one of the education outreach centres of Parijat Academy teaching classes V- VII,” said Monali.

What touched the couple most was the commitment of the teacher as well as the students. Although class room means a few bamboo walls with most of the classroom being exposed to the outer elements, a few benches and tables and almost no books or writing materials at all, the teacher as well as his students are determined to achieve some semblance of an education which is being appreciated by the couple.

Despite the impoverished circumstances, some parents of Garbhanga wanted bettereducation for their children and approached Parijat Academy to do something for their children. Uttam has taken 21 children from Garbhanga as students at Parijat Academy, where they are currently housed in very modest hostel facilities. These students are sponsored by various people around the world, costing roughly INR 2,000 a year for each student. These children are all from the Karbi community and spoke almost no Assamese at all before starting at Parijat Academy. But now they all are fluent in both Assamese and English and can read and write.

“Parijat Academy has become a passion for Dan and myself and we hope to be involved on a lifelong basis and help Uttam to achieve his vision,” concluded Monali. Today was their last day in Assam, but they are looking forward to coming back again.

Source: The Assam Tribune

date: 20-12-2010