Madarmani Dream Vacation: part 2

Our pool buddy

Cockroach killer, qu'st-ce que c'est?



We were happy to arrive at our dream destination at Dream Hut Resort. We checked in at reception, tired and sweaty. Reception was littered with fold out cots covered with mosquito nets and inhabited by drivers (which is where our driver would live for the weekend - on our bill of course). We were directed to our dream hut by 5 members of this overstaffed establishment and on the way we were stopped to check out the pool. sadly, it was empty but we were promised that they would fill the next day.

The room was... well, let's just say that the $50 (CAD) charge per night was probably based solely on the fact that the room was so close to the beach (slash highway - more on that later). The service was incredible however as everytime one of us shrieked about a cockroach scurrying through the bathroom or across a pillow, at least 5 hotel staff came to our door within under a minute. There cockroaches were so big they took 4 men to wrestle them to the ground and one man to stand around and stare awkwardly at us while the other four played hero.

The restaurant, also staffed by these foreigner rescuing heroes, was extremely accommodating and sure that anything that we requested that they did not have was available for us hours later. Though they happily charged us extra for their effort (ice was 15 cents a cube).

As we were the only foreigners west of Kolkata, the people on the beach were equally as attentive. The beach, which also served as a highway between the two beach towns, was a dangerous place to set up a towel and relax on for the day. Getting to the ocean required looking both ways before crossing the street/beach while also looking down at avoid steeping on crabs. When we did decide to sit on our towels just far enough from the waiter that we didn't get wet, Indian tourists on route to the other town stopped their car beside us to snap our picture.

I will have to confess our disappointment however regarding the pool. Now, please understand, Kolkata is extremely hot and unbearably humid. In our daydreams of our Mandarmani Dream Hut Resort vacation, we envisioned ourselves frolicking in the pool. The "resort" did fill the pool as promised, though to our dismay they pumped water from the ocean, along with sand, algae, frogs and crabs.

Our four hour journey back took a harrowing four hours, swerving in and out of traffic our driver made sure to keep one hand on the horn at all moments. Needless to say, we needed a vacation after our vacation.

Hurry Burry Spoils the Curry; Mandarmani part 1

We spent several evenings of the first and second weeks of placement deciding where to go to for our first weekend off. We decided on a dream vacation by the sea at Mandermani beach. We made a reservation at Dream Hut resort, right on the beach. Dream Hut advertised a pool, a restaurant and air conditioning. We reserved a car and driver through IICP and packed our bags the night before so we could rush off after work for our four hour drive to our destination by the sea.

Half an hour into our dream drive, we got a flat tire. No problem, our spirits still up, Chelsea, Shereen and I stood by while Meaghan helped get the tire off. Now with spare tire, we were on our way singing “On the road again”, making jokes about how awful it would be if we got a second flat now that we no longer had a spare tire.

Ten minutes later we got another flat tire.

Spirits still high we sat in the car wondering what our driver (who spoke no English whatsoever) would do. He got out, removed the tire, sat on the trunk for a while hitting it with his fist, spoke with some onlookers and left for a bit, came back, fiddled with the tire some more and left again. At this point it seemed the word got out that four foreign girls were sitting in a car by the side of the road and slowly the crowd around our car got larger and larger as people stood around staring in the windows, some of whom were eating snacks like one might do at a movie theatre. We took pictures of them and showed them, took video footage to commemorate the moment, ate some awful fruit and masala flavoured freezies that someone bought for us, sang ‘Oh Canada’ for them (for which we received applause) and broiled in the heat of the car. So this is what it feels like to be in a zoo. Luckily no one brought peanuts to throw. Two hours later and our driver returns. Through the help of our friend Atul in Kolkata, several phone calls and text messages later, we find out that the driver has no money to replace the tire and we drive, literally, two blocks to the tire store and purchase two new tires with the promise that the cost would be deducted from the cost of our trip (in his defense this was not his car. He was merely the driver).

On our way, we half-heartedly sing “on the road again”. It is now dark outside and our four hour trip will now take three hours longer than anticipated.

We make it quite far this time before our next mishap. Tires in one piece we pull over in this tiny tiny town on the edge of nowhere. I look up to figure out why everyone is yelling “oh no!” to see steam billowing out of the engine. It seems that radiators need fluid in hot countries. Who knew?

I’m not sure how long this stopover takes but once we resolve this new issue and we are on our way, no one is singing “On the road again”. Meaghan and Shereen are about done by this time, the three of us smashed into the back seat of the car in the heat, our thighs and shoulders glued together with sweat.

We do eventually arrive at our dream vacation spot, nine hours later.

Baby Window

One of the physios invited us to see his new 2 day old baby in the hospital. Honoured to be invited to share such a precious moment with him and his wife (who we never met before by the way), we went. His wife was so warm and welcoming, even after having had a caesarian. This beautiful and pristine hospital had some pretty strict policies. Visiting hours were 1 hour in the morning and 1 hour in the evening. Fathers are not invited into the delivery rooms. Mothers feed the baby twice a day for 15 minutes each time and the babies are kept in the nursery the rest of the day behind a curtained glass window where no one but the nurses are allowed to touch them. At 6pm exactly, the curtains are opened for the hoards of family members to glimpse their new family additions and snap photos. We went down for the baby viewing and shared in this chaotic mosh pit of happy and smiling aunties, uncles, grandmas and grandpas pushing their way through to the baby window. No hard feelings here, just general Indian pushiness with laughter and warm happy smiles, people pointing out their babies to other baby viewers and vice versa. We joined in and laughed an awed with the rest of the group, happy to be included in such a joyous affair. *Sigh*, I love India.

The Indian Institute of Cerebral Palsy (IICP)

A little information about where we have been working and living in Kolkata for the last 5 weeks.

I had envisioned the IICP to be a fairly grassroots organization with maybe one or two physiotherapists and no Occupational Therapists. Turns out it is a large organization with maybe 8 physios, 2 OT’s, several social workers, many special needs educators and lots of volunteers. The more time I spent there learning about India, the organization and the health care system, the more I realized how truly great this place was. For one, there are about 150 with CP that attend classes there, a family services clinic, a baby clinic, a hydrotherapy pool, respite care and vocational training for adults with CP. We had hands on learning that we would have never been able to get at home. 5 days a week we pretty much lived and breathed the IICP as our dorms were kitty corner to the catering unit, beside the lunch room, down the hall from the computer room and upstairs from the classrooms. This was incredibly convenient of course because getting to work involved walking down a hallway and down some stairs.

Secondly, the people that worked there were inspiring, caring and generous people who openly invited us into their lives. We learned that to work as a physio or OT for a government hospital would pay twice as much as an NGO like IICP, would offer more benefits, more access to private work to make money on the side, and would require working less hours in a week. Needless to say, these therapists are dedicated to their work and extremely compassionate. I loved working with them every day and learned so much from them.

Mother Theresa House

Mother Teresa's Tomb


On our first weekend in Kolkata we visited the Mother Theresa house. The main house is where Mother Theresa lived and is now where her tomb is. We saw her room (though weren't allowed to take photos here), her tomb and a timeline of her life with many quotes from the people that she helped. It was very moving.

We decided to volunteer at one of the Mother Theresa Missions of Charity in Kolkata and went to the orientation where we chose to go to Mother Theresa's "first love", the Kalighat House of the Dying. I was nervous to go but extremely glad that I had this experience. We only signed up for every Tuesday for three weeks because we work during the day and of course we felt that it would have been more beneficial for the people there if we had gone for longer so we could have gotten to know them and the routine better, but hopefully we were somewhat helpful. Our first day we arrived and washed some laundry with other volunteers and then went to help out in the women's section. As soon as the sister found out we were OT students we were sent to do exercise therapy with the women. These women were so sweet. Though it was also very sad. A couple of the women were missing an eye, which made me think of stories I've heard where people are maimed so that they make more money begging. And some women had tattooed wrists, which were possibly put on to mark them by someone who once owned them, maybe for prostitution. I am just making assumptions of course, but as this is a charity, many people are found in living in the street and brought there to die. So sad, but they are well taken care of there which is a silver lining to the whole story. Many of the women just want you to hold their hand or give them a hug. The Kalighat Mission of Charity is a also a very cool and serene place for them to relax, where outside there is a chaotic bussel of traffic, touts and people sleeping on mats by the street.