Back to Blighty

Ok so I didn't manage to post a last blog from India and this one comes to you from my living room at Davey drive back in Brighton. The Crow has landed.
The last few days away were a mixture of just spending time with my mum and dad, thinking about coming home, waiting to meet Hannah again, trying to reflect on my time away. It suddenly all went pretty fast and sitting here now I have all sorts of other thoughts about the days and weeks ahead jostling for space in my brain.
Returning to Kolkata after having been in Cambodia for 3 weeks just made me have even more respect for my parents living there, doing what they are doing. It really isn't an easy place to live. The noise, busyness and pollution really do assault you and even though as a city it has a really good feel and is friendlier than some of the others we visited in India, I just know if I had to choose a place from my travels to live it probably wouldn't be there. On Saturday evening there was a CNN documentary report on the sex trade operating through Kolkata- with a particular focus on trafficking of under age girls. It was a very confrontational piece of investigative journalism exposing the hypocrisy of the sex workers trade union, who are adamant there are no under age girls in Kolkatas red light districts, through to the corruption of the police force who are ineffectual and underhand. It confirmed or alluded to much that mum and dad and their colleagues face on a daily basis. The most shocking thing that they have discovered recently is that under age girls who are 'rescued' by the police or other agencies are then put under the care of the government in government houses. In reality once in these houses the girls then become the sex slaves of the police and other officials, suffering greater abuses without the care of a madam, or the financial benefits which they could expect working in the red light districts. It is an ongoing challenge for my parents project and other NGOs to find ways to educate or make people aware of the injustices and abuses that women are suffering in this industry, particularly when the common mindset is that most of them have brought it on themselves in some way or are choosing to live like that.
I am certainly very grateful that I have had the opportunity to visit my parents over in India, to see first hand what it is they are doing. However many photos you see or descriptions you are given it is often hard to empathise or appreciate exactly what it is someone is trying to tell you until you have seen it for yourself. Now when they email or phone I will have a much greater sense of what they are talking about and the difficulties they often endure.
I have felt like from time to time during writing this blog I may have jumped up on my soap-box and had a bit of a rant- I hope it hasn't come across like that, more that it has just expressed some of the tensions of travelling. At the end of the trip reflecting on it all there is a funny tension. Just packing up a bag and heading off for 10 weeks to see a bit of the world is an enormous luxury in many ways. The number of conversations that I had, helplessly trying to explain to someone how or why it is that I have enough money to do this, even though I'd been saving for years, illustrates the crazy inequalities of our world. But I did love being able to do it- To see all those new things to experience so much beauty, to spend time with people that I love, to know that all of that will be stored up and will inspire me, and will no doubt change me in some small ways that I may not even notice. I guess it's a tension that I've been happy to live with. I'm glad that I've been able to pull a few of you along on the ride with me, and that it has brought some virtual sunshine to the grey days of winter.

So it is that I'm back here and my journey from Heathrow back to Brighton welcomed me home with the very best sort of winter weather; driving rain clouds with blue breaking through. The beautiful shapes of bare winter Oak and Beech trees against a shining sky, the back drop of the Sussex countryside, the Downs looming on the horizon, even a rainbow.........
Ok ok I know I've been away and you're all fed up of the miserable weather, but when you've not had it, and it's so familiar, and you've got used to seeing the beauty in things well I just know I had the biggest grin on my face all the way home.

Goodbye Bodge

My final journey in Cambodia was 5 hours of south-east Asian sunshine slow roasting a boat load of tourists travelling the Tonle Sap from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh. Tim explained to me later that The Tonle Sap is an extraordinary stretch of water. Part river, part lake (or inland freshwater sea) it is the only water way in the world that changes its direction of flow for half of each year. In the dry season it flows from the north to the south of the country but come monsoon, when its neighbour the Mekong river rises, it changes direction acting as an overflow for the Mekong and flows south to north. Riding on the roof of the boat speeding down the river and out into open water we passed small fishing boats and floating villiages. The Tonle Sap is in many ways the backbone of Cambodia from the fishing industry to the tributaries that irrigate half the countries rice paddies it is a source of life. In contrast the following few days had me discovering and engaging more with Cambodias darker side and the reality that for the Khmer people their lives carry with them the taint of death. The atrocities and genocide committed by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge has left legacy that affects every family in the country. Most adults you speak to will have lost a mother, father, sister, brother or other relation during that era. Visiting Tuol Sleng genocide museum formerly the S-21 prison is a deeply affecting experience. In many ways I don't have words to express or reflect, because none really do justice. To walk through rooms that have known such inexpressible torture, suffering and death is to walk through the shadows of the very darkest depths of depravity to which humans can sink. And yet at the same time as it seeming completely incomprehensible or unthinkable there is the small knowledge that the capcity for such violence resides within all of us. The questions of How? and Why? hollowed by the knowledge that as a species we do this again and again, we do not learn from history. Thinking I would never let this happen, begs the question do I ever try to stop it? Or how often am I complicit in perpetrating or upholding regimes that inflict similar violence by not objecting or opposing them, or simply by not paying attention because it is not on my doorstep.
Part of me wants to end there with the questions and the challenges. In truth maybe it will be these thoughts as well as the reflections on the poverty and corruption in India that will be the most significant things I carry back to the UK. But I will also return with many memories of happy times with friends and all the beauty I have seen. I guess we're stuck having to constantly live with such tensions or paradox.
I leave Cambodia with the images of sunlight diffused through banana leaves and palms, the fresh bright pink of Bourgenvilla flowers against blue blue skies, red earth and red dust, slow brown rivers, the gentle smiles of Khmers, the towering ruins of temples, another beautiful sunrise, the noise of Gekkos and Crickets filling the night,the warm breeze in my face as I cycle, the embraces of friends. I can choose to dwell on these, whilst not forgetting the other.

Temple Time

Today lovely people, I spent the day Temple-ing, as is only right and correct when in Cambodia.
I came up to Siem Reap yesterday, my journey reminiscent of many of those Indian bus rides with Hannah only the road was alot worse and I had to entertain myself. I caught sunset at the Temples last night and returned for sunrise this morning. I guess we so rarely bother to get up for sunrise that it is always quite exciting in and of itself. I know in winter we might be up before dawn but it's not like we're paying attention to it. Still having the outline of Ankor wat temple gradually pick it's way out against a lightening sky was amazing. This sunrise was alot warmer than my new year one but no less stunning in a different way. It was exciting to be there on my own whilst at the same time a shame that I had no one to share the excitment with, except for the 200 odd strangers!- again quite different to new year. Once the sun was up, I spent the next couple of hours exploring Ankor Wat before breakfast, enjoying the softness of the early light and the relative quiet of long light shadowed corridoors boardered with pillars. Then hallways, courtyards, steps and heights. There were people about but not too many as it was still early. After breakfast I moved on to Ankor Thom and the grand many faced temple of Bayon. I reckon a lot of you will have seen pictures somewhere of this temple where every tower has huge stone faces on each side looking out into the forest. There were alot more people at this one so that I had to queue to get up stairways and push through crowds, it did not detract too much and I still managed to find the odd quiet corner. It is quite nice being on your own and just following your nose, not having to wait for a gang of people to move on, or worry about losing anyone. There are several other temples and complexs around Bayon which I scrambled up over and around, but I then headed further into the Forest to Preah Kahn, and Ta Prohm. Both these temples have been swallowed to a certain extent by the Jungle. In fairness, now as major tourist attraction, this is slightly more managed than it once was but that doesn't detract from the forgotten feel of temples being overrun by trees. Preah Kahn also has some stunning buildings in it's complex- big vaults and coloumns as well as narrow doorways and low corridoors. It is also not on the main main tour route and consequently was much quieter again, affording me an hour or so of happy solitary adventuring. There is no escaping just how cool Ta Prohm is with its snaking tree roots gripping the crumbling walls, and mighty trunks soaring up to the sky, the whole temple feels like it is being slowly ingested back into the living forest. The whole day was aided in its smooth running by my very chirpy moto driver, I had a friendly face and a wave to look for after each Temple.
Tomorrow I'm getting on the boat to Phnom Penh, and I'm beginning to feel time slipping away very fast as the end of my travels looms only a week away. It will be good to have a few more days with the Lawrences, and have them show me round Phnom Penh which they are very familiar with. They are planning to take me to all their favourite haunts, and we will be celebrating Tim's birthday. Then it's back to Kolkata for a few days before home.

Bicycle rides and butterflies

Well I am having trouble here in Battambang getting stuff posted I just spent half an hour writing a blog only to lose it when I treid to publish it. Feeling slightly frustrated but all I can do is start again. So I arrived in Cambodia via Bangkok a week ago and it would seem my arrival coincided with the onset of the hot season. I know that many of you reading this may well have had snow in this last week and believe me I have more than once thought longingly of cooler climes as I wilt in temperatures climbing up into the mid 30's and higher. However a week in and I guess I must be aclimatising. The main reason for me coming to Cambodia was to visit my good friends Tim and Catherine Lawrence and their two boys Forrest(3) and Eden (1). It is great being here with them and being part of family life for a bit. The first thing we did when I arrived was hire a bicycle as this is their main form of transport. They have bike seats and a trailer for the boys so are ready to go, on or off road! They live in a wooden house in Wat Kor village on the outskirts of Battambang. Out along the slow brown river and over the railway line then off on a dirt track through the banana and coconut palms. In the Garden there are mango, papaya and other friut trees and they are growing aubergines in the vegetable patch. They don't have running water inside the house, just large ceramic pots of water that are fed off stand pipes in the garden, this means that washing of any description happens outside along with a lot of other liveing, eating and playing. It's fair to say that this first year of living over here has held many challenges for them, culturally, emotionally, relationally and with many of the simple day to day basics we take for granted like the much maligned NHS. It has certainly been very difficult at times but they have learnt alot and I guess become stronger together through it. They are both chatting away in Khmer, not fluently but nearing comprehensively from where I'm looking! It has been great playing with Forrest and getting to know Eden who is a climbing adventuring explorer if ever there was one. We have been out into the dusty ochre brown rice paddies, for cycle rides beneath the palms and in the sun, speant a day at the towns new outdoor pool, and met a selection of kittens, puppies, and baby chicks. Today it seems a load of butterflies crawled out into the sunshine, and as we ran around the grounds of the local buddist temple with the boys, blue, yellow and black butterflies fluttered past. I am enjoying joining in the slow pace and rhthym of Cambodian life with the Lawrences. They have always been an inspiration and encouragement to me and when the boys are in bed we pick up where we left off in sharing ideas, exploring our faith and just being together. I have missed them in Brighton so it is very good to be with them here. Check out the link to their blog to get more of a feel of life out here.

Onwards alone

I'm writing from my mum and dad's back in Kolkata, having parted company with the lovely Miss Bywaters in Delhi 2 nights ago. The journey from Agra; our last one together, was certainly the most entertaining yet. I don't think the old man who had the misfortune of offering to take us to the bus station on his cycle rickshaw knew quite how much we were carrying in our rucksacks. When it transpired the bus station was up a hill the poor old fellow seemed to be struggling quite a bit, and started hailing buses that were passing us in the opposite direction. This resulted in a random bus pulling over and us jumping on, with old man assuring us of a safe trip to Delhi. He wasn't exactly wrong, our driver was slightly lunatic, employing a driving style of: keep your hand on the horn and drive really fast then break suddenly if people don't move out the way, I had to fashion ear plugs out of toilet roll in order to cope. He then stopped the bus about 25km outside of the city centre and told us that was as far as he went. Following the local herd we wandered up the road a bit and found some more buses which took us into town, then grabbed an autorickshaw for the last stretch. Local travel at its best, and all that with no Hindi.

We didn't really explore Delhi extensively just took it pretty easy, found really good and really cheap places to eat, wandered the main bazaar of Paharganj, and checked out some books and music in Kahn market in a smarter part of town. That trip at least afforded us a glimpse of life on the other side again. Away from the constant crush of traffic, cows, and hawkers we mingled briefly with the Indian middle classes. It's not something we've seen much of in the last month.
I then took the overnight train back here on staurday night and leave for Bankok/Cambodia early tomorrow morning. I was happily fostered for the length of the train trip back here by a compartment of very friendly people; a young couple and their 5 year old daughter, another couple and an older lady. A good start to travelling alone after a slightly emotional (on my part) goodbye to Hannah, never was any good at the stiff upper lip thing- more like the slightly quivering chin thing! She is now into the 2nd day and night of her train trip down to Kerela but text news is its going well.
As for me the day or so here has been full of story sharing with ma and pa, and preparing for the next bit. I guess the journeys over the next couple of days will give me a little more reflection time about this last month, before I have a whole new set of stories to tell from a new country. I will miss Hannah, it has been a great month with her, after 10 months without her. When I think that we've been together 24 hours a day for pretty much the whole month its great to realise that we really do know each other very well, enough to be honest, talk together, be silent together, share excitments, inspire each other, recognise our differences, accomadate each others needs and not argue at all. That is pretty cool. I am blessed to know her and to have had the oppotunity of this time with her. I am sure that as we both reflect and when we see each other again in a few weeks we will have more to share and this time will only become more precious. It is rare to have such rich times with friends in the crazy schedules of our lives, so I am very Thankful to have had the oppotunity.
And the next few weeks, well they won't really see me alone as I'll be with the lawrences before I know it and that in itself holds all sorts of delights.

The Taj

I'll let the pictures do the talking, we only went to Agra for one thing. We went, we saw, we photographed. In shameless tourist fashion and with great enjoyment we were snap happy at the Taj Mahal. It is as amazing as they say, you shouldn't miss it out, we didn't.

Desolate Beauty

After a very enjoyable couple of days back in Udaipur, on a tip from mum and dad we headed to Bundi. We decided we really didn't fancy going back to Jaipur and could get a train from Bundi to Agra which was our next planned destination.
What a treat, thanks mum and dad for pointing us that way. A bit off the beaten track Bundi turned out to be very beautiful in a slightly crumbling desolate sort of way. It is less frequented but still well geared up for those who make it there with good hostels and hotels. It's a town nestling between hills with a small lake, and a dramatic palace and fort on the hill. We were only there for one day but headed up to the palace which was practically deserted in the morning. Wandering through the impressive elephant gate, then around once grand courtyards and up small stairways reeking of pidgeon poo it had the air of somewhere once vibrant now forgotten with many stories to tell. On the upper levels there were small painted rooms, which despite neglect retained many of their intricacies. We didn't have a guide relaying all the many stories that were depicted around the walls and ceilings, prefering to wander quietly at our own pace. From the palace we headed further up the hill in blazing sunshine to the desolate fort which occupies the length of the ridge. A series of tumble-down buildings, arches, gateways,and wells. Kids would be happy for hours and hours finding secret stairways, conquering ramparts and being able to see for miles. All of this with the added thrill of possibly aggresive monkies- the only real occupants of the fort. We were warned, by a friendly frenchman who had angered the monkies in some way, that it may be wise to arm ourselves with pointy sticks, this we did, and proceeded with some caution. But it seems that we caught them in siesta time and they left us alone prefering to pick fleas of each other rather than chase us.
You'd think that would be enough adventuring for one day, but having returned from the hill slightly de-hydrated, after lunch in a lovely garden by the lakeside, we wandered into town where it turned out there was a big muslim festival in full swing. Amazing glittering floats were parading down the streets to the rhythm of drums. Crowds lining the streets and a carnival atmosphere. As with all such events there was also the slightly more fanatical edge present with adolescent men waving a variety of swords, spears, large bludgens, and inserting knives under their skin. A couple we met later had also seen them slashing their bare chests with razors splaying blood across the crowds of onlookers, glad we missed that one. As it was there was a point where we were clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time, surrounded by a slightly frenzied crowd of men, some of whom turned their attentions towards the 2 white girls stupid enough to be stuck in their midst. Needless to say we exited the scene at the next available turning only slightly worse for wear and a little wiser perhaps.
Still quite an incredible day in Bundi, very glad we made the detour. I'm writing now from Agra, where we arrived on the overnight train early this morning. We head to the Taj Mahal this afternoon and then on to Delhi tomorrow.