Symphonical S un calendario virtual a modo de pizarra en el que se pueden añadir y gestionar tareas a través de notas adhesivas multimedia Permite la

The Barracks are made up of four, three-storied, solid brick buildings of one-, two-, and three- bed-roomed flats. The one-bed-roomed places would be better described as ‘bed-sits’ or studio flats. Each has a kitchen area and storage area but shares bathroom facilities. The two and three bed-roomed flats are quite spacious, each having a kitchen, bathroom, veranda as well as a separate living area. Because of the tenancy dispute there has been no maintenance by the trust that owns the buildings but individual tenants carry out minor maintenance to their flats, such as repairing the plaster and repainting the walls.

There are also some informal living arrangements at the Barracks such as a Bengali woman and her mother and small baby who live under the stairs between the ground and first floor. They have made a snug, but tiny, home for themselves that is sheltered from the weather, probably safer than the streets and is close to the place of work for the young mother who cleans several homes in the Barracks. Another example of an informal arrangement is that of an Anglo-Indian family who live on one of the roofs of the barracks in the single-roomed servants’ quarters, which are allocated (and in this case, sublet) to each of the three-bed-roomed flats. This room was barely large enough for the family’s needs, with room for one small double bed and hardly enough space to move from the entrance at one end to another at the opposite end. Nevertheless, in spite of the lack of space, they found room for the Anglo-Indian hallmark: the showcase. To increase the living space the tenants, or occupiers, of this room had

arranged a type of waterproof awning under which they stored their cooking supplies and equipment. They had some seating here too and used it for dining and entertaining visitors. At the opposite end of the pucca21 room and several feet outside was a separate room that appeared to be used for ablutions. Just to the side of this area they stored water,22

This discussion illustrates the varied nature of Anglo-Indian occupancy in this particular area.

which they had to bring up three flights of stairs.

TILJALA

If Calcutta evokes horror in the western imagination, Tiljala has a similar effect on the imagination of middle-class Calcuttans, as this extract taken from an interview with a wealthy Anglo-Indian businessman demonstrates:

I realised that the community was falling into backwardness. It had a genteel wealth, this community, at one point in time and slowly because of emigration and the loss of jobs and what have you, they started moving into the slums.

Into Tiljala?

Yes, Tiljala. And Tiljala shocked me. I was shocked. I was living in the city and I had no knowledge of the circumstances of people who lived in Tiljala.

The dwellings of Tiljala are mostly one-roomed homes, tenement-style. Some are built around small central courtyards where activities can overflow from the homes into this more public area – the washing and drying of clothing, space for children to play. I use the term ‘public’ as if they have an alternative. This may misrepresent their situation. Their public and normally accepted private lives merge to the point where they have very little that is private in their lives. Their comings and goings, visitors, raised voices, cooking odours, etcetera are easily observable by others. Most homes in this area do not have windows so an effect of the climate is that it is almost essential to keep the door of their home open in order to catch any breeze.

21 _{‘Pucca’ is a Hindi word in common usage referring to a permanent construction, as opposed to} ‘kutcha’, which refers to a makeshift or temporary construction.

22 _{In addition to the two ‘official’ water deliveries per day, made by council water trucks, water is} sold by the pani wallah (Hindi for water-man) who carries it on his back in leather bags.

Although I visited this area a number of times, I came and left from different places at different times so never achieved a sense of the layout or even the size of the area. It seemed labyrinthine with mainly single storied dwellings and the occasional multi- storied, quickly constructed building divided up into a large number of small, low- ceilinged apartments. On each visit a resident, who acted as guide leading me through narrow people-filled alleyways from one person’s home to the next, accompanied me. I had the sense that a guide was thought to be required as much for navigation as for security reasons. At times people commented in a vernacular language as we went past. I couldn’t understand what was being said and on enquiring from my guide was told that it was better that I didn’t know. I was left with the impression that some sort of obscenity was involved. On one occasion I asked to be taken to a particular person’s home and was told that they lived “in the interior” and it was too risky to take me there. An Anglo-Indian woman who was involved with a social service organisation told me that Anglo-Indian girls are sometimes assaulted, and have even disappeared from this area. She said that where so many had to share toilet facilities it was especially dangerous for the young girls.

I came to know some of the people living in this area so made my own arrangements to visit – always with a local resident to act as a guide. The person who had made the arrangements for my first visit, on hearing of my plans for a subsequent midday visit asked: “Are you mad? The people you’ll want to visit will be taking their midday meal, and they’ll be embarrassed because they won’t have enough to share with you. Then they’ll want to have a rest. And it’s a real hot spot, the housing there traps the heat. It will be too hot for you. You’ll get head swings.” I talked with my guide for the afternoon about this opinion to which he responded: “Yes, it can be hot – but today it’s not so bad. You have been in worse. The people in Tiljala mostly are too poor to have a meal at midday. They don’t have to have a rest in the afternoon – they aren’t at work and they would rather have some company.” I put the trip off for an hour or so by interviewing him and then we set off.

Plate 7 Tiljala fronting the railway tracks with an Anglo-Indian