A Delhi Christmas

Well, I hope you folks all had a great Christmas and are feeling suitably stuffed, hung-over and skint. I thought I would just sneak an entry in to let you know what Christmas here in India was like.

Christmas Eve 15:00 - The Father Christmas conspiracy

Myself, Pascal and Shariq perform sterling work in operation 'Distract thirteen boys whilst we wrap presents and get Shariq, who is dressed as Santa, down three flights of stairs without being spotted'. Our weapon-of-choice was the television, which ensured that thirteen pairs of eyes were safely averted from goings-on around them.

19:00 - Santa Claus comes to town

The doorbell rings and thirteen boys rush to meet Santa who, despite our best efforts with sunglasses and padding, is instantly recognizable by his shoes! Why didn't we think of that?! Presents are distributed and the room turned into a sea of wrapping paper. The boys immediately run off to stash their goodies; personal possessions have been few, and frequently taken from them, previously in life.

21:00 - The 'Cake Crawl' commences

Dinner is finally ready! The boys have prepared a delicious paneer curry and puri. Silence descends on the room as sixteen hungry people devour their dinner. Pudding is an outrageously chocolatey cake that volunteer, Rivati, serves at the same time as the curry, and of course most of the kids wolf it down first. Pascal and I, who are obviously both of the 'eat all your mains before pudding' ilk, exchange glances; is this an Indian custom?! Whatever - it is blummin' tasty!

21:25- A moment's madness?

I accept Rivati's invitation to attend Midnight Mass with some of her friends - ironically the first of my life!

22:00 - Cake crawl continues….

Rivati and I call in on the way at one of her friends, who is holding a Christmas party. We are greeted by the most dazzling manifestation of Christmas I have seen so far - there is a tree, fairy lights, tinsel and even some 'twiglet'-like nibbles out on the table!

The friends are all glamorously dressed and mostly work in media. Conversations centre on politics and the current economic crisis; oh, and of course, office gossip; who's cheating on who, and what so-and-so did with so-and-so etc. It is a side of Delhi I haven't really seen before. As always, I am made very welcome and plied with offers of food and drink. We are not allowed to leave until we have sampled the home-made Christmas cake!

23:40 - and continues….

We go to meet Rivati's other friends, who are also going to Mass. Rivati warns me that they are a bit off-the-wall. And indeed they are. We take a rickshaw to their home, which is a large, grand house in an affluent suburb. I meet what appears to be the entire family; mother, who Rivati addresses respectfully as 'Auntie-gi', three brothers, one of their wives and Josephine, who I think was the brothers' 'Amah' or nanny, and still lives with the family. The older generation and sister-in-law are devout Catholics and proudly show me the special religious card that Josephine has hand-made.

Rivati's friend is one of the brothers; he is a somewhat rotund gent, wearing a full-length white tunic dress, and a woolen hat, and he is incredibly camp. I have no doubt this is going to be an interesting night.

23:45

Under Auntie's watchful eye, I consume three bites of chocolate cake, at which point she seems satisfied, and I think I will burst.

23:50 - Midnight Mass, Indian Style

We set off in the family's chauffeur-driven 4X4 car. I am starting to doubt we will get there on time and have awful visions of walking into the quiet church and interrupting the service. When will I learn that this is INDIA!?

We pull up outside the Sacred Heart Cathedral in central Delhi. The place is alive and heaving with throngs of people! I was expecting this to be a huge ex-pat affair, and am surprised that pretty much everyone is Indian. Of course, there are people selling Santa hats and candles, sweets and chai, as well as a lot of people and children begging. There is a giant queue snaking up to the gates of the cathedral grounds and I wonder if we will actually get in before dawn…then of course, the brothers see someone they know, and naturally we just push in!

Christmas Day 00:20 - Security Check Number 1

We reach the gates where my bag is searched and I am frisked before being admitted to the cathedral grounds. There are hundred of people milling about; judging by the turbans and white skull caps, many of them are not Christians. Rivati explains that, although in some aspects of Indian society and culture people are very divided along religious lines, in much of it people are happy to cadge bits and pieces of one and anothers' faith and share their celebrations and festivals; "any excuse to party" she says with a glint in her eye.

The cathedral itself is closed as it is not large enough to accommodate the thousands of people who have come, so we make our way to the enormous marquee that has been erected.

00:40 - Oh Come All Ye Bored Out of Your Minds!

We have been listening to the service for about fifteen minutes. I am afraid to say it is deathly boring. I have huge admiration for the Indian capacity to listen to people who seem awfully fond of their own voices pontificate for hours. It was the same when the Swami came to APK; my interest and attention expired after about 5 minutes, but some of these people lasted all afternoon! This service is also stingy on the singing; there hasn't been one measly carol yet! Rivati and I made up for it by singing, 'Oh Come all Ye Faithful' and, for some reason, Madonna's 'Like a Prayer' in the back of the car later (and I hadn't even had a drink)!.

00:55- It all kicks off

We are standing at the back of the crowd minding our own business, when the sister-in-law, comes running up speaking urgently in Hindi. I gather that her husband who, incidentally is somewhat inebriated, is in some kind of trouble. Rivati and one of the brother's go off to see what's happening and instruct me and the other brother to stay where we are.

See, I knew this would be an eventful night!

01.05 - Uh-oh

It transpires that drunk brother had felt the urge to empty his bladder, but in his drunken state had neglected to realize that there was a man praying in the spot he had chosen. Understandably, the gentleman in question was not best pleased and had expressed his disapproval by punching the drunk brother. A scuffle had ensued, and naturally a crowd had gathered, all wanting in on the action. The fighting had been stopped, but several people were very upset and demanding that drunk brother leave.

From a distance I watched as Rivati and brother number two put in their best diplomatic efforts. Eventually, they are successful and the three of them make their way back over to us.

01:15 - Catholic guilt

After being punched by a stranger, drunk brother now faces the far scarier wrath of his wife. She is understandably really upset, and from what I can gather, mortally ashamed of him. Shame is a big thing here in India - well, in terms of bringing shame on your family by not behaving according to the exacting social rules…and I have just realized, that this is a catholic Indian. Blimey!…Indian shame + catholic guilt = recipe for disaster!

01:25

The lovely bit of the evening. I think of the people dear to me and place a candle amidst the sea of other people's burning flames. I'm now really ready for my bed.

02.00

Bed!

10.00 - Om, Shanti, Om.

Go to my yoga course, where I am surprised to find that many of the Indian students are absent. We learn the shoulder stand and fish pose.

12.00 - Miracles in the kitchen

Return and make my Christmas lunch - a toasted cheese croissant and sweet papaya, which I eat whilst sitting on the balcony.

I then busy myself preparing pasta salad, and chocolate cornflake cakes for this evening's pot-luck meal. Miraculously I manage to burn the first batch of what are possibly the easiest cakes in the world to make, and have to run to the local shop for more chocolate; am touched when the shop-keeper wishes me "Merry Christmas".

14.00

Open lovely presents from my family…and cry just a little!

15.30 - Six!!!

Head to Chaya, where I bring to India, what I feel is its most significant import to date, the 'Chocolate Game'! You know the one where you sit in a circle round a big bar of chocolate, roll a dice and if you throw a 6, you don a hat, scarves and gloves and attempt to eat as much chocolate as you can with a knife and fork!The boys LOVE it…although we have to abandon the gloves, the kids aren't really used to eating with knives and forks together, and it's starting to look like we'll be here all day before anyone gets even a sniff of chocolate!

17.30 -Security Check Number 2

Arrive at the Bulgarian Embassy, where a friend of a friend of is hosting a bunch of us foreigners for a Christmas pot-luck!I have a bit of a palaver getting in. The girl who has loan of the flat has to show various letters of permission. The guard makes serious phone-calls, cross checks my name against the list, and ascertains that I will under no circumstances be staying the night. Eventually after showing my passport and signing the Official Secrets Act, well a serious bit of paper anyway, I am allowed in!

In the flat, there are five Americans and another Brit, only one of whom I know. I have my first glass of WHITE wine since leaving the UK, and we stuff ourselves with lasagne, chicken biryani, pasta salad, and cheese. Afterwards we play the name-game; Lord 'Shiva' and several Bollywood stars make anappearance - testimony to the recent experiences of people here!

Boxing Day 00:15 - Western Guilt

Arrive home. The security man who sits outside the entrance to the flats gets up to let me in - I really don't like thinking about him out here during the cold night, it just seems so unnecessary. I give him the small parcel of goodies that Kate packed up for me from the do and assuage my guilt a little.

00:30

Collapse into bed. It's been a very different Christmas, but a good'un.