Navratri

Navratri, the Festival of Nine Nights, came to its conclusion last night. This Hindu festival honours the goddesses Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswati, in a spectacular display of dancing. Every night, people gather to whirl the night away in garba or dandiya rasa circle dances until the early hours (many of my students have been coming into school, having stayed out as late as 2am the preceding night), dressed in elaborate finery. Whilst celebrated all over India, Gujarat has claimed it as its own and it has become a prominent highlight of the Gujarati calendar.

Although I have to admit that I have not been dancing the night away for the last nine nights (Navratri is the longest dance festival in the world), I managed a solid two as I participated in the school's celebrations last weekend. Held in the palace courtyard, centred on the vrajsthali (a raised platform), the evening started and ended with ceremony. A shrine, honouring the goddess Lakshmi, had been erected and decorated with fine cloths, candles and flower petals, and the concentric rings of dancers encircled this. Following the utterings of prayers, songs were sung, musicians struck up their drums and the dancing started. The evening had begun.

Circles of dancers formed and my students dragged me in, showing me the simple steps which I was to repeat until the dance changed. Contrary to their insistent claims of "Ma'am, these dances are very easy," my initial steps were admittedly clumsy, with arms and legs flaying in the wrong directions, turning out rather than in, moving forwards rather than back etc. However, once I'd got the hang of it, it did not seem so difficult; I just had to follow the lead of the person in front. This continued for the next couple of hours, with circles forming, disbanding and coming together again, as the dances changed and the children moved round.

A major part of the festivities is, of course, the age-old dilemna of 'What to Wear?' We'd been informed that Navratri was the time to go 'all-out' Indian style and adorn ourselves in as much gold, embroidery, beads, sequins and shine as possible; apparently, there is no such thing as too much bling! I fully embraced this opportunity, bravely rejecting my natural inclinations to dress simply in 'safe colours', as I suited myself in the traditional Chaniya choli. This three-piece dress consists of a choli (a cropped blouse), teamed with chaniya (a long, flared skirt) and dupatta (a scarf-like covering), accessorised by bangles and, of course, the compulsory bindi. I've never worn anything like it and felt like a princess!

Navratri has been a real highlight of my time here, so far; a definite taste of the colourful Indian culture that I had imagined.

Dhrangadhra

This is Dhrangadhra, the rural town in Gujarat state that has become my new address.

Whilst walking into town back in Ripon may have involved a friendly encounter with someone I knew and a takeaway coffee, walking into town here involves a whole lot more. No one seems to use the pavements, instead pedestrians share the roads with a barrage of cars, motorbikes, bikes, autos (automated rickshaws) and cows (and sometimes pigs). This chaotic system seemingly has some sort of order and negotiation, as vehicles weave in and out, largely controlled by the honking of horns.

Besides the hustle and bustle of the roads, there is also the stares that we seem to attract. As young, 'white girls' it is understandable that we stand out, with passers-by shouting out 'Hello!' and 'Where are you from?'. It is a largely friendly atmosphere, as stallholders call after us; the other day, we stopped at a stall selling coconuts (which you drink out of using a straw) and were asked for our photos. Strange and surreal, it will take a bit of time to get used to and find our way round, but just embracing it seems the best way to go!

At the coconut stall