The hidden underside of Calcutta

This morning I had arranged to get a taxi across the city to Laxmi's high rise luxury apartment in South City so we could visit a refuge and charity projects.
First challenge: finding a taxi driver who could read English for her address (success) and find one who would put the meter on (fail). But for only 150 rupees for a forty minute drive I wasn't going to haggle over the extra 50p-. (I knew it should have been about 100, i.e. a pound).

Laxmi's apartment is in an opulent gated four tower complex set in its own grounds alongside a massive shiny modern mall. The contrast to the refuge we visited within ten minutes drive could not have been more marked.

View of Calcutta from Laxmi's appartment

In a tiny house volunteers house, clothe, feed, educate and provide vocational training for as many girls as they can (at present they have squeezed in 30) rescued from the slums, the streets, abusive families and grinding poverty. They even provide kick boxing classes to aid confidence for these vulnerable girls.

Me with the children

Dorm for 30 girls living at the refuge

1 locker each for their posessions

At the refuge with Laxmi - she is at the back wearing glasses

Relying on charity support these women also run pre school classes,, after school clubs and women's groups, telling me that in Bengal, as around India , education may be compulsory but unless  a child goes to an elite (expensive) school the teaching is usually poor, the learning often nil... and no one cares.

I was genuinely moved by the hard work of these dedicated women who have trained themselves in education techniques to give kids a chance. The level of poverty in Calcutta is staggering. The more I look the more I see. Travelling with Laxmi in the car/driver she employs marked us out as wealthy and we were a target for beggars, banging repeatedly on the windows whenever we had to stop for traffic. Laxmi barely noticed, I found it very upsetting.

Yesterday on the Metro and the buses I was relatively unhassled and felt relatively safe. But in the territory/company of those obviously 'monied' I am a target.  The class system is still very much in place here. There are those who have or  those  who have not. Nothing in the middle as far as I can see, in any way.

Laxmi tells me I am too nice to the staff here;  that 'the boys' are used to being ordered around and that I must practise an air of superiority to command respect. I couldn't even if I wanted to. Whilst I know what she means I have also noticed that I am smiled at by the servants now because I acknowledge them whereas the norm is to pretend they are invisible.  It's a truly difficult environment for a middle class middle aged English woman like me when there is no 'middle'.

Lunch was a Punjab dish, Chana Bhatura. a massive leavened fried Indian bread to dip in a bowl of spicy chickpeas. The bread was delicious. The chickpea broth was rather too spicy for my taste and I was grateful for the ice cream which followed. Thanks to Laxmi for a fascinating if deeply upsetting insight into the hidden dark side of Calcutta. 

Lunch

As I swum in the luxury of the heated pool within the sanctuary of the Club I counted my many blessings.