First Day 28/09/06

29/09/06

Lucy, understandably, was offered little in the way of proper rest considering her awkward sleeping position. She was the first to rise at 4am when her roommates left to attend to the daily task of cleaning, feeding and educating the children at Sealdah station. Once she’d unpacked and scouted out every nook of the surrounding area there was little else to do but annoy Jonny. A little patter-rap on the door came at 5:15 and then again at 6 until Jonny finally relented and joined her for some wild-eyed discussion on our respective nights’ sleep and the startling reminder, momentarily forgotten during our dreams, of our being in India.

The girls arrived back from the station some time after 8am and headed, in turn, straight for the washroom for a good scrub as is customary for volunteers after handling the street children, many of whom have sores, lesions and/or are covered a thick layer of that dusty sort of city-filth. They then, in passing, offered answers to the innumerable questions that gushed from our mouths and suggested a trip into Kolkata city centre which was, we learned, still a further 16km from where were based.

Having both spent some time in London, we’ve encountered a few stifling, summertime journeys on sardine-tin tube carriages. For those of you who have had the privilege of enjoying rush-hour journeys in London, you will suggest that it’s simply not possible for a carriage to become any more crammed and so the experience can only be marginally different- which is partly true.

However, take your average English commuter. He or she tends, when boarding an already jam-packed train, to usually opt for a polite and subtle shuffle onto the running board in the hope that when the doors shut behind them they’ll be forced to shunt the wary-eyed rabble forward a little. Usually a few indignant groans, exasperated sighs and half-muttered grumbles will be directed at the offender who will invariably be looking at his shoes in shame or holding his reddened face high in defiance. All this terse, tight-lipped Englishness is amusing to consider when boarding an Indian train.

If you can imagine a coach-load of excited children all boarding a train for their first time with their only consideration not being for how much they end up bumping into anyone or whether there are still a number of people to hop off but simply getting on that train, then you can have a fair idea as to the scene. Regardless of age, build, height, sex (though women do have their own separate carriages if they so choose) everybody bundles on board and scrums down until you feel your ribs are about to splinter. The unified mass of bodies is now without room to maneuver and sways uncontrollably much like a packed crowd at a concert. And throughout all the indignity of being so trapped as to be unable to move your hand away from that gentleman’s bottom or remove that person’s hand away from somewhere you’d rather it wasn’t, everyone assumes a placid and uncomplaining expression, even laughing when the crush reaches its unendurable (but never quite threatening) peak. Like children, really.

The trip to the city centre was unremarkable. We strolled aimlessly and ate at what is considered an up market restaurant (which still offered nothing on its list of main courses beyond 2 pounds) and returned to the HQ to rest and await our evening meeting with Deba (Debarabata Chakraborty, president).

The meeting was held in Deba’s office, a small box room with room enough only for a desk and computer, a bookcase and a small sofa, all economically arranged. He told us of what we could expect from the work and the time we will spend here and made clear that our living in his house meant that we were now his family with all the same rights, entitlements and obligations that you’d come to expect.

Days will basically be structured as follows:

4am: Get up, wash and dress in a uniform of green polo shirt and trousers.

4:25am: Gather bags: 2 or 3 of which contain clipboards and photocopied worksheets covering basic Maths, English as well as colouring sheets, 1 of which contains soap, toothpaste, basic medical supplies, bandages, etc. Leave for Sealdah Station.

A short walk to the local station, Mahdyamgram, and a wait for the direct train that leaves at around 5am.

6am: Arrive at Sealdah. A walk to platform 10A where all the various activities- washing, learning and food distribution- take place.

7:30am: Return to SMILE.

11:00-12:10: Lesson 1 at the SMILE school called ‘Happy Home 1’.

12:15-1:25: Lesson 2.

1:30- 2:00: Lunch.

2:05- 3:15: Lesson 3.

3:15- 3:45: Play.

3:45: Children go home.

The rest of the day is then free as are the weekends.

With the meeting then finished we ate our evening meal at 8pm (with our right hands as the Indians do- a lot easier than anticipated but certainly not less messy) and headed straight for bed in preparation for our first 4am start. Jonny was, to his legs’ immense relief, offered a new room with wider walls so that his feet may hang over the edge of the bunk.