Saris and Elephants

Amidst the swine flu panic most trains to Pune were cancelled this weekend, but luckily the five of us; Divya, Sardius, Ritvic, Veronica and I, along with Jehan and Samar from Quest Adventures, headed out of Mumbai and caught a train from Dadar to Lonavala. For Veronica and I this was an adventure in itself!
Once we arrived in Lonavala we drove out of town and into the surrounding hills where we started on a 4 hour trek up to the village of Rajmachi and Shrivardhan and Manaranjan forts. On the way we stopped at a beautiful lake, where, apart from a passing herd of buffalo, there wasn’t a single soul for miles around. We escaped the sticky humidity with a refreshing swim and tried, without much success, to teach Divya and Ritvic to float! After our swim we huddled together for a lunch of samosa, vada pav and hot soup in the pouring rain.
Soaked to the skin, we climbed on through sticky orange mud, over slippery rocks, past huge white waterfalls and spectacular views across Bhor Ghat. The area is littered with long forgotten ruins of old forts, temples and stone walls, hidden beneath the undergrowth. Surrounded by jungle, fresh air and birdsong, it is hard to believe you are merely a few hours outside of Mumbai. We spent the night camping on a plateau between the two forts that tower over the village of Rajmachi. Initially we pitched a tent, but the strong winds and heavy rain meant we spent the night in an old temple, which was a unique experience in itself. Dinner was a delicious home cooked meal brought up to us from the village, followed by an evening of ghost stories and jokes which got worse as the evening wore on, we’re still looking for that blue sheep!

After a good night’s sleep (for some of us anyway!) we woke up early, warmed up with a cup of green tea and began the ascent up to Shrivardhan fort. The winding path up the fort started off with gentle stone steps carved into the rock, giving way to a narrow path, precariously close to the near vertical edge. After inching my way along, carefully not looking down, we were inside the fort and could explore and enjoy the feeling of being enveloped in the hazy clouds. While sitting on the upper ramparts, the clouds began to clear and we could really appreciate just how far we had walked.  As the heat of the sun grew stronger we walked down the village of Rajmachi where we were welcomed into one of the villagers’ house for a ‘taashty breakfaasht’ of poha and garam chai. 

Refreshed, we started the long walk back towards home, singing all the way (to the bemusement of the few groups we passed on the way!) All too soon we were heading back to urban life, covered in orange mud and looking vaguely like Oompa Loompas, sad to be leaving the great outdoors behind for another weekend, but looking forward to that nice hot shower!

Today was the festival of Raksha Bandan, where sisters tie a rakhi, or thread bracelet, around the wrists of their brothers as a symbol of their love and affection, in return the brother promises to protect his sisters and always be there for them. This does not necessarily have to be between blood brothers and sisters, a girl can tie a Rakhi on any one that she considers a close brother. However, this bond is taken seriously and the boy and girl will from then on be considered to share the bond of brother and sister, so no getting together later!I was invited by my students at Vatsalya Foundation, a centre for street children, to attend their Rakhi celebrations. Not really knowing what to expect, I arrived in the morning and was greeted by my students Tushar and Nuresh and seated at the back of the room while the ceremony got under way. The boys at Vatsalya were joined by some of the children from the Bandra centre and were all enjoying themselves singing along to the latest Bollywood tracks on the radio while waiting for the other guests to arrive.During a welcome from Ms Swati (Executive Director of the Vatsalya Foundation), all in Hindi, I was busy looking around, watching the children, when suddenly I heard my name and a room full of expectant faces turned to look at me! Before I really knew what was happening, two other volunteer teachers and I were standing at the front of the room, marking the boys’ foreheads with the traditional ‘tikka’ and rice, and tying the Rakhi to their wrists. My first ‘brother’ was a tiny boy, no higher than my knee with a big cheeky grin and huge dark eyes!Once all the Rakhis had been tied, the day continued with singing and dancing in true Indian style. Two young girls gave a great rendition of ‘I’m a little Teapot’ and other nursery rhymes, shouted in an almost military style, followed by Tushar singing a beautiful Hindi song, and a more questionable Akon number, which I hope nobody else in the room understood!At the end of the day I headed back to work, exhausted, but with a big smile on my face. These street boys had shown me so much love, and accepted me as their sister, or ‘didi’, a feeling that I really cannot express in words.