we had to park the car outide the resort and we took a three wheeler to go inside the resort.
The white glassy sands were shaded by the patches of sunlight that filtered through the rows of coconut trees.
Major part of the afternoon was spend at the sea shore, combatting the wild waves against our skin.
It was a wonderful day spend eating, chatting and enjoying the cool sea winds.
it started on a wrong footing...and all due to my carelessness...imagine, I didn't take my purse when I went to a rest room in the airplane, and left my handbag on my seat. I got stripped off my green notes and was quite sad.....but like they say, everything has a purpose, maybe the person who had the courage to rob me needed the money more than I do, so I move on, probably borrow the money and start enjoying my self....coming so far from my home town and mourning over the lost money is not a good idea, I might spoil the fun of others who are with me...
So here I am enjoying the nature of Lagos...there are so many trees in this city...Neem, Mango, Coconut, Papaya, Banana.. Everywhere, there is greenery and the air is so fresh.....but there is too much traffic on he road and what amuses me is the number of things that are available at the traffic signals Almost everything is sold on the streets; watches, telephone cards, fruits, vegetables, drinks, cigarettes, magazine, clothes and many more articles. This reminds me of Mumbai traffic signals where we too have vendors selling their wares at the signals. The weather is very warm (hot winds) and it is difficult to breathe without an AC. Most of our time is spend indoors (a wise thing to do) but today we went to market place to get the feel of the city. They roast corn on the roads and fry red bananas. The market was full of handcrafted items and lot of paintings. One particular painting that impressed me was a collage of butterfly wings.. It was very beautifully made, then there were jewelry, clothes, wood craft, paintings and also fresh fruit and vegetables in the market.
My cousin who lives here in Lagos has good set of friends and these five days I have met most of them at the restaurants or they have been visiting us. Some of them I met at her kitty party. The Chinese food here is very much different from what we have in India.. It is just fantastic.. very yummy but living is quite expensive. They have Naira currency (125 Naira equals one dollar.) My cousin bought some fruits and vegetables and then she took us(five of us) out for sandwiches and soup and I saw her spent 20 thousand Naira.
The local Nigerians are very friendly and they don't stare. (unlike India, where everybody stares) At the market place, they address you as Mama or Ma, and politely invite you to buy their wares...and they are easy to talk to. They speak English but it is difficult to follow because they a different accent, most of the word are rounded and merged with overlapping of sounds. My cousin has two maids, one for cooking and other for cleaning the house. They live in servant quarters, which is behind the building; They take three hours in the afternoon to rest. The day starts quite early; 630 am and the activity in the house starts. The markets are open from 7am to 5pm. Nigerian is the sixth largest oil producing country, but I am surprised that it is having fuel shortage. I saw long queue at the petrol station due to fuel shortage. It has crude oil but no refinenary (sad but true)
Do Nigerians have a good love life? (According to the Nigerian youth, he says) "In Nigeria today many, many girls are driven by both poverty and greed. The disadvantaged position of women due to a male dominated society puts men in a position where a lot of them just look at women as objects that can be bought and paid for. There few jobs after leaving school and many parents cannot meet with their kid’s demands. It is a sad situation and unfortunately I don't see any hope as far as the economy remains the way it is. Its all about money for hair, money for handset, recharge cards. Romance and love tend to flee this sort of arrangements so it is getting rarer than before." However, A Nigerian man will marry only if his lover gets pregnant.
The ten days trip to Dubai was an eventful episode. It was to celebrate my cousin's 50th birthday. I love to spend time with my family and since all my family is scattered all over the world, I get to meet them whenever they come to India, or when here is some family wedding then we get time to meet. But during weddings, we are too busy attending occasions and we hardly get time to chill, not really…all our time is spend in visiting saloon or dressing or attending some or the other parties. During the wedding, there is loud music that silences our conversations, and the notes are normally exchanged in groups of three or four. We wanted to spend quality time together, to meet some place, out of India, where we could just be together. The opportunity finally arrived. My cousin decided to celebrate her birthday in Dubai.
My nephew lives in Dubai, so it was perfect place for a venue away from home. He has three BHK apartments. The family that was to arrive were Rajni from Chicago, Suresh from Texas, Chandru and Meena from Hongkong, Laju from Lome, Reza from Bahrain, Gitu, Asgar and Neha from Lagos, Rani, Raju, Devkadidi from Pune and me from Mumbai. Then there were the family residents of Dubai that included Nikki, Dina, Karina, Sanjoo, Danisha, and Vinesh, thus we formed a group of twenty and the fun had begun.
Except for Sanjoo’s family of four, all the rest of us wanted to live under one roof. Gitoo and Rajni, (who were first to arrive,) headed for shopping and purchased the air mattresses that promised a comfortable dreamy nights. As the family arrived, one by one, the rooms filled with laughter and joy. Mornings were spent chatting and joking that were laced with other odd jobs like preparing breakfast, making beds and washing dishes. Nobody told anybody to help, but there was a special pleasure in working together. Although we were so many of us in one house, we didn’t feel crowded. Nikki’s hall is huge and airy with a large open balcony. He has two easy chairs, two rocking chairs and el-shaped couch, then there is a huge square shaped dining table with twelve chairs. Under the glassy top of the dinning table there is a beautifully carved slab of wood that had mosaic of gold colored, square metal chips The centre of the table is laden with a huge globular vase that contained fresh flowers. A fish aquarium, side table and a bar complete the room. Most of our hours were spend in this room.
After idle mornings, we would get ready to go for lunch and to visit malls. Dubai has beautiful malls with clean, large alleys. The shops gleam with merchandise. It is possible to visit only one mall a day, there is too much to walk and too much to see. We did go for desert safari, which was fun, roller-coasting through those sand dunes at break neck speed and late evening enjoying the Arabic dinner under the spells of the magic shows and belly dancing. We also enjoyed a boat ride on another evening and watched the sun set from the upper deck of the boat. But most of our days were spent visiting malls and trying the food at fancy restaurants.
We enjoyed the long drives through the city. We had rented a 17 seated vehicle, which was perfect for our group; we shared our stories and comments as we drove through the city. My cousins related how the city has grown in last five years. There were constructions everywhere, a new shiny glass buildings were mushrooming on all sides. We saw Burj Dubai, the super-tall structure, the final height of which is being held as a closely held secret that will feature residences, commercial space and retail space and hospitality elements including the world's first Armani Hotel and Armani Residences. With over 160 storey now, the most number of livable floors in any building in the world, Burj Dubai is already pushing the frontiers in architecture, construction and engineering excellence.
The ten days passed quickly and the quality time we spend together is the time etched in our memory for many years to come….
Early morning I heard the laughter of kids who were playing with color in the building compound. There were sounds of children running, shouting, and giggling. After saying a short morning prayers, I went to my bedroom balcony to watch the children play. Happily they sprinkled colors on faces of their friends, red, blue, green and the festival had arrived with vibrant hues and the celebration of life was here again. Hoil, the festival of colors, mischief, pranks, a day when you get away with any practical jokes and yet dance to a loud music.
Holi is a festival of universal brotherhood and happiness. The bonfires that are lit on the eve of Holi are in reminder of the value of true faith in God. Many years ago, we would lit the fire in the lane and all the neighbors would come with coconut, sweets and water, and we would walk three times around the bonfire, break the coconut, sprinkle water and red color powder and then we would play games like antakshri or dumbsheras till late nights. This year I went with my sister to the corner of the street and watched while my sister went closer to the fire to pray. Didn’t want to risk walking around the bonfires, was afraid that I might slip on the wet ground and harm myself.
Many years ago, we looked forward to these festivals and took part in all the festivities. We were young then, our vocal chord had higher decibels. We knew all the bollywood numbers and a great stamina to keep awake all night with friends and sing and laugh. Now, Holi is a day to celebrate with family, enjoying lunch, chat and play a game of cards with family and friends.
I like to watch children play Hoil, like to watch youngster dance to the loud music and do rain dance, I enjoy this festival, but now I watch it from a distance.
Not that I have become old, it is just that now my priorities have changed.
When I lived in Spain, what I hated most was doing the odd jobs at home like sweeping, swabbing, dusting or washing clothes. Therefore,when I returned back to India, I started to enjoy the comfort of a helper which is easily available in India' I appointed Shalini to help me clean my house.
Shalini worked in my house with a salary of just Rs500. Having her help in the house was a blessing I enjoyed and I was kind of living in luxury. She worked in four different houses in my building, doing the same job, over and over again, and seven days a week. I would ask her to take a day off and she would refuse telling me that she would be bored at home. Every evening, she would come to my house and make me a
cup of tea, and while she and I sipped the tea together, she would relate to me the stories of her life and her family.
Shalini had no husband and her family had cheated her out of the family property and she had been forced to work as a housemaid, because she was not educated nor qualified to do any other work. She had one daughter, Rupa, whom she would take with her everywhere because she did not trust the neighbor for her daughter's safety.
While she worked, Rupa would sit and watch her mother do cleaning and swabbing at other people's houses.
One day, Shalini's employer suggested that she educate her daughter, because she felt that her daughter was very pretty and education would do her good. On the insistence of her employer, she enrolled Rupa in the municipal school. Rupa would be seen following Shalini with a book in her hand. Rupa would get help in her studies from the children in the building, all the used books, and clothes were passed on to her from Shalini's employers.
Rupa started to enjoy the attention she was getting from all people in the neighborhood and she took more interest in her studies and was getting good result. Years passed, Rupa grew up, educated and graduated. Shalini would tell me the stories of how people had helped her financially to get her daughter educated and how proud she was of her pretty, educated daughter.
One day, she told me that Rupa had got a good job, she didn't know where her daughter was working but she said that she had started working in some office which was open all night and she had comapany transport at her service. I guessed it must be some call centre. While her daughter lived in style, she was still travelling by bus and doing menial work.
For next six months, she would tell me about her daughter earning good salary, and improving her standard of living. First came, radio with stereo, then telephone, 24 inch TV, sewing machine, furniture and then washing machine....and she told me that her daughter wanted her to stop working as house maid, as she was making enough money to support her. But Shalini was a proud woman and she didn't want to live on her daughter's expense, so she continued to work in four houses, doing the same drab work that she had been doing for 25 years. Her own clothes were washed in the washing machine at home, while she washed people's clothes at work.
I would wonder if her daughter was proud of her mother for getting her educated or was she ashamed of her mother, doing the menial work and earning only ten percent of her daughter's salary.
She was a very good maid; she worked hard and was very honest. Many other employers did not want her to leave them. They were afraid they would not be able to replace her and therefore they discouraged her for their own selfish comforts. They were happy that she was a self respecting woman who did not want to live on her aughter's expenses. I ask her to leave the job and rest at home and tried to explain to her that she deserved to live comfortably because she had made an effort to educate her daughter but she would not listen, telling me that she would be bored at home. Her daughter got married and forced her to stay with her and it was her son-in-law who finally cajoled her into leaving the job and start enjoying the comfort in her old age.
I lost a good maid but I was happy that her efforts had paid off. She visits me sometimes, and I feel happy to see her proud smile and glow on her face when she lovingly talks about her daughter's success.
Cross posted on another blog on 'Unchaai – Crying for Love’ at http://unwantedgirlchild.blogspot.com/2008/03/true-story-of-hope-and-determination.html
I have poor memory therefore I tend to forget the good and the bad times easily. What is past is forgotten, each day I try my best that my ...
