I am a little embarrassed to say that I am still in India. I am certainly mastering the art of patience: India is definitely the best place to learn.

I've now reached Calcutta, after leaving Manali and spending a week or so in Delhi. I was sad to leave the Himalayas - I'd begun to feel settled, and leaving the school was especially hard.

Things got a little chaotic in my last weekend there: there was a minor earthquake tremor. I was in bed trying to get to sleep when my whole room shook. It was terrifying. I grabbed a few important possessions (it's amazing what becomes important in a near death moment - my bra and my moneybelt sprung to mind!) and ran downstairs. I was reassured that these tremors are common in the area, but I didn't sleep very well that night.

The drive down to Delhi was beautiful and there was a full moon which lit up the mountains spectacularly. Our week in Delhi was lovely: I met some fantastic people and we sat up on the roof of my hotel, chatting all night. Two of them were musicians from Chile, so our conversations were accompanied by beautiful music. One was a travelling flautist and he carried five different flutes with him. The other played the guitar and the charango (a strange South American stringed instrument). I felt honoured to have my own private moonlit concert each night.

I'm now in the British creation of Calcutta. Did you know that Calcutta didn't really exist as a city until the British turned up and made it their capital? This explains the colonial feel of the place and the grand Victorian buildings everywhere. It has also been raining almost non-stop since I got here, so I really feel like I'm in Britain.

Calcutta is surprisingly green: a huge park stretches for miles through the centre with gardens, fountains and cricket pitches - and horses, goats, sheep and even tame rats running about! People come to feed them regularly. I haven't seen so many cows around, but there is a young shepherd boy living on the street where I am staying with about fifty goats and sheep. They all huddle together on the pavement at night. It's quite a sight.

I haven't been here long but I seemed to have become part of the street life. I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but walking up and down my street a few times seems to have been enough for everybody to recognise me and chat and invite me for chai. They're friendly people. I have met some really interesting characters and heard some very sad street stories.

I was particularly taken with one young homeless lad, called Abdul. I had spent quite a bit of time talking with him about his life and hard times. Pappan and I decided to set him up with a tea stall to get him started in life and help him out of the poverty trap. We went to the market and bought all the tea shop requirements; stove, charcoal, tea, milk, sugar, glasses, spoons. The cost was nothing for us but everything for him. He has now started business down the street and we were his first customers. He is doing well and I feel very proud.

In stark contrast, I have also been exploring the rich nightlife of Calcutta, frequenting the expensive bars and clubs in the most lavish hotels. Mixing with the rich and famous of India has also been an interesting experience. Rich Indians always speak in English to each other: Pappan says it's seen as a sign of a good education.

I met one man who was a photographer for Cosmopolitan in India. He wanted to do a shoot with me on a piece about Western women wearing traditional Indian clothes. I told him that I wasn't skinny or tall enough, but he has been useful to know, because he has membership to all the clubs and so we get in free. It is so good to dance properly again.

Today I visited the Mother Teresa Hospital for the Dying Destitute. As you can imagine, it wasn't pleasant. People lying half dead all over the place, skin and bone, limbless, disfigured - I won't go on. I felt guilty for standing there breathing, for living. Very humbling.

I have been feeling a bit upset recently. Although I have been in India for months now, certain things still wear me down. I find the constant staring and subtle groping of men disturbing. and just don't feel comfortable walking down the street. I have been followed on a couple of occasions, once for two hours! Nothing really happened, but I felt very angry about it. The men make you feel like you are for sale. I suppose the cinematic image of western women doesn't help.

I have spent quite a bit of time arranging my ticket to Bangkok - I had my flight ticket stolen, as well as my money, which is part of the reason I have been held up in India for so long. The extra time I have been in India has meant my journey through south east Asia has been cut short.

Well, this time it really is goodbye from me, India. Goodbye cows in the streets, open sewers, men pissing in front of me, power cuts! Strange to realise that I actually will miss this crazy place.

Donna x