A wander down memory lane

Friday Photo Post

This is me, sitting in front of the iconic Taj Mahal in India in 1994. It’s January and I was on a break from 6 months of working in Mumbai.

I was recalling this in a conversation with a friend recently and was pleased to be able to put my hand on the photo easily. I’d been in India for 3 months, on the Oasis Frontline gap year, having only turned 18 about 6 months before we left.

India was a complete culture shock, an assault on my senses, and utterly exhilirating. I was far away from family and friends for the first time, with a bunch of other British people I had only met a few weeks before flying out. There was a large group of around 12 of us who went Mumbai, where we divided into smaller teams and were placed with various churches and families around the city. Just before we left the UK, we were told that our placement had fallen through and so they would find alternative work for us. As a result, me and my Frontline partner, a chap called Colin from Belfast, were housed a train ride away from each other, and we worked for the house church which many of the Oasis India staff team attended.

I have so many vivid and varying memories from this time it would be a LONG post if I wrote them all down.

However, one of the strong memories from the Taj Mahal visit was a photo taking opportunity. The women in our group had been told that if anyone asked to take our photo we should agree as this would be a lot easier than trying to refuse. Me and fellow traveller Mark were wandering around the base of the Taj itself when I was approached by an Indian guy who asked me, in English, if I would mind having my photo taken. I agreed and he called his friends over to assist. Because I had been in the country for a while by that point, I could understand quite a bit of Hindi even though I couldn’t really speak it. As his friends came over laughing I heard one of them call, in Hindi ‘Just the one photo? What about number 4, 5, or 6?!’ There was actually about 8 of them, each of them wanted a photo individually with me and then we had a group photo. All the while, Mark was watching from a distance laughing his head off!

Another memory is of this young woman, who was probably not much older than I was at the time. She, her husband and two boys lived in the room next to the one that Colin shared with Firdaus, in one of biggest slum housing areas in the city. The closest I got to pronouncing her name was ‘Mucky’, which she thought was hilarious! It was through her and Firdaus that we got to know many of the women in the slum, including one family who offered to henna my hands and feet regularly. ‘Mucky’ was a beautiful woman with a ready smile who showed me how having next to nothing to your name was not always something to be pitied.

This photo shows the train station I travelled to everyday to meet up with Colin and Firdaus, from Mumbai Central Station. I became very adept at navigating the train system by myself, where women could only travel with other women in a coach designated for women only. It was a squeeze! If I travelled with Colin and Firdaus I would stay with them in the other carriages, which often involved being flanked in front and behind by them to try and prevent groping from other men. It was New Year which I remember most vividly, as I was travelling with the men, flanked by Colin and Firdaus and when I tried to dismount the train someone was holding onto my trouser leg to try and stop me!

I had bought this sari while I was away in Delhi, not really realising it was a wedding sari, so I didn’t wear it very often whilst I was there. It was more practical to wear a salwaar kameez anyway. I was often ‘claimed’ by many of the people I met, my skin is light but that didn’t stop many people I met exclaiming that I could have Persian or Indian ancestry. Wearing the clothing made me blend in all the more.

This was 30 years ago this year, which is almost unbelievable. How can it have been that long ago? So much has happened in the intervening years, and yet these memories are as vivid as they have ever been.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some events from this time which I’d rather forget, but all in all it was a formative experience! What about you, do you have memories from a time which had a real impact on you? Comment on this if so… And don’t forget to share or subscribe if you haven’t already!