kindred of kanpur.

A blast from the past
for my pops, no doubt.

Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh. And my father's hometown.

Walking through this town, it was the first time I ever felt like we were really out-of-towners. Being in a smaller, less-touristy city, the occasional foreigner around was usually a sight to see. As soon as we had walked onto school grounds, we were surrounded by hushed whispers and stolen glances our way from little groups of students. These pre-teens even came up to us and asked if we knew Emmanuel - my guess, probably the token Chinese kid. It turned out that it was his father (an "uncle" of ours) who had been driving us around town and later, we'd actually be meeting this "Emmanuel" for dinner.

An old classmate of my father's third eldest brother, had become the new headmistress at their high school. Watching her and my aunt re-count through tales of old teachers and past classmates, it really made me wonder what the future would hold for me in 40 years... Will I still remember the names of principals, teachers and peers from past biology or French literature classes? Will I be able to walk through the old hallways and remember where my locker used to be?

My dad walked into what was now the Media/Audiovisual room and told us how it used to be the student council courtroom. Being the President during his time, he had a makeshift judging panel with his peers to use as they passed judgement on other students, handing out punishments for those who deserved them...now I know where he gets his look of "no mercy" from.

Methodist High School.

If there was such a thing as the 
West Beverly Hills High of the South West.

The ol' bread-winner
(also on Kanpur's Wikitravel page!)

Seeing the Chung Fa was by-far the highlight (mandarin pronounciation: zhōnghuá - 中华). This was where my father and his 5 siblings grew up, shot the shit, engaged in shenanigans, caused all sorts of ruckus, all the while living above a thriving Chinese restaurant. The owners who had taken-over bought the place next door as well, expanding the restaurant, taking away the makeshift second-floor and giving it a new facelift. As my aunt explained the old layout, I tried picturing my dad as a kid, in his school uniform, poking around the kitchen, gobbling down some fried rice my grandma made, or sitting out on the patio, enjoying an ice-cold lassi.

The Liu family's backyard.

Later, we had a visit with old neighbours of my father's - another family of 7 brothers and 3 sisters. As we sat in their garden drinking chai, I wondered what everyday life must have been like with this band of young Kanpurians 40 years ago - class-size play dates? Their own cricket team? Amateur Bollywood films? One brother, in fact, did actually try his luck in Mumbai, having an "uncle" in the movie industry to help get him started, but unfortunately being a star wasn't in the stars for him and he moved back to Kanpur.

I'm sure that afternoon wasn't enough to catch up on 40 years of lost time, but seeing everyone chatting and laughing, one thing was for sure - great friends will always be great friends, no matter how often you keep in touch.