One of my favourite things about India is the way spontaneous adventure can come your way, so I thought I'd share my favourite one from this trip . . .
This took place in the Sunderbans.
I was in our residence when I heard loud music and drums so I went to see what was going on and there was a massive speaker on a bicycle rickshaw followed by a few guys with drums who were dancing away to some crazy bollywood groove. There was another rickshaw with a statue of saraswati on top after the saraswati festival the day before. There were also a bunch of people dancing and throwing pink powder about the place, wiping it on peoples foreheads and handing out honey sweets. So I got the pink powder and sweet deal and then I assumed they were on their way to throw saraswati in our pond coz that's the local tradition.
They told me to sit on the cart with saraswati. I obliged and was joined by a swarm of kids some of whom sat on my lap and off we headed. I was given powder to throw and there were little boys running everywhere throwing pink stuff indiscriminately and instead of going to our local pond we struck out for the countryside stopping at every house to deliver powder and sweets while some poor guy cycled along pulling cart with me, kids and saraswati. Was a very Princess Diana moment, as in, the white lady in the middle of all this. And the Countryside was stunningly beautiful in the afternoon sun with the mud huts, straw roofs, paddy fields and of course the women in their jewel coloured saris.
Eventually we wound up at our local village where everyone stared even more. Often the Indians stare in a manner that looks very hostile but now I've perfected my Indian head wobble , I employ it in the direction of the hard core starers and am usually rewarded by a beaming smile and return wobble. They are mortifyingly hysterical when I try out my six words of Bangla and giggle away or thank me and kiss my hands which is a tad embarrassing.
As I proceeded through the village, head wobbling away and waving regally, I was spotted by Sinead and Enid from deep inside a chai shop. Needless to say they didnt treat me with the adulation I had recently become accustomed to but pointed and laughed in a somewhat childish way if I may say at the contradiction between my elevated status that I had been awarded and the pink smears that now all but covered my face, hair and my now not so sparkling white shirt When we reached our final destination next to the village pond, I ran back to get Sinead and Enid who were now buried deep in the sari shop.... again.... When we arrived back at the scene 3 chairs were set out just for us and we were given coconuts - our favourite - they just lop the top off fresh ones and give you a straw. Then the drums got louder and the dancing got crazier and saraswati was left in a little shrine. No dunking in this case. Sinead and Enid then fled back to the warm embrace of the sari shop while I was ushered back on to the rickshaw and cycled back home accompanied by kids and drummers who got off as we passed their homes. I returned filthy but exhilerated.
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