I went down to the
village to meet Maita Sing Rai, an old man
I had sketched a portrait of and now I wanted
to give him the drawing.
Someone I asked showed me the house where
I met him and his family.I was invited for a cold
drink and cookies.
We chatted a bit, some minutes later Biswas
walked in, we were quite surprised to see
each other. We had met at the festival.
He was with me pretty much the rest of the day.
Him and Brawesh(?) came with me to my friend
Barshats house.
In the evening we went outside, they took me
to the place where they have cultural meetings,
dancing classes etc. and, surprise, surprise,
the whole youth of the village and even some older
people were gathered.
They gave me a farewell, I think the nicest
farewell I ever got. I was greeted and given
some really nice gifts and then they danced.
Once more they danced the songs we had heard
so often during the festival and also to some
other music. I was so happy to see all those
familiar faces again and those wonderful dances
full of rhythm, movement, passion and joy.
Some dances I tried to dance with them.
When it was finally time to go I tried to look
at everyone once more and it was so moving
what I saw in their faces.
With most of them I had not even talked and still,
they had become friends. The most important
communication with those people had not happened
with words.
I had lived with them, had participated in their
festival, I had shared their joy and I grew to
love them and they obviously did too.
One of the girls had noted down in a book,
that friendship is like a rainbow between
two hearts. I really like that picture.
Just that there weren't just two, but many hearts.
During the last weeks I had spent a lot of time
with my own generation. I found them to be very nice.
I enjoyed very much to spend time with them.
They did not drink alc or smoke, but they danced,
acted, sang and organised this great festival.
They seemed to treat each other in a very kind way.
I respect them very much how they manage to get
the balance between the traditional Nepali and
the modern Western lifestyles.
At the moment both cultures clash together and
I don't think it's so easy to live with that.
Just imagine a Hollywood movie on the screen
of the TV in a small mud cottage.
Things are changing in India and I'm very happy
that there is a youth that is able to live both
to a certain point, tradition as well as modern
western style.
The last morning I said good bye to the men
who work in the office and the factory,
to Rajah Banerjee, to the guards and the ladies
who do the cooking in the guesthouse and to
my friends Barshat, Dev and Uli.
I had my last looks into the landscape
which had become so familiar and then off I went,
down to the plain, to the train station
and back to Kolkata.
It was sad and it took me two days to get used
to hot, dirty, noisy Kolkata with so many people
I didn't know.
But soon I had found new friends, spent time with
my friend Chandrima and now I'm back in Munich,
it's cold, we have snow and surprisingly
I enjoy it, found new friends, met old friends,
act in a theatre play, read and write a text about
my experiences in Makaibari in English,
listening to Nepali music.
