Monday, February 18, 2013

Kolkata, after 3 days

Day 2 in Kolkata was rainy. It drissled just enough to turn the dust and dirt that covers the streetscape into sludge and mud, not enough rain to wash the filth away. I found the Rafi Ahmed Kidwai street tram and rode it around for 6 rupees (11 cents). An old, clunky steel street car with corrugated wood floors and open windows. I walked through the Esplanade and the market area. I read. I ate at a Roti stand. Then I bumped into new friends Estelle and Erwan from Nantes, France.lp They've been traveling in Asia/India for over 4 months. I've crossed paths with them in the street 5 or 6 times by happenstance, and since they struggle with English, it's nice for them and for me to speak French at the end of the day, plus we have interesting discussions. I love traveling alone, but it's so good to eat dinner with good people, not alone.

India is wonderful but difficult. Every day I see amazing new things, I'm so glad I came, and I also hate it at times and I get so frustrated or turned off it makes me cry or wish I were going home tomorrow. They're not well set up for tourists, so getting a hotel room is the 1 person problem and the hotels are crappy, the nice ones are few, far between, full and expensive. I will change hotels again tomorrow. From 400 rupees/night at the first place run by muslim guys (noisy, squat toilet, cold water), to the 600 rupee place today run by regular Indian/Hindi guys (western toilet leaks, cold water). Tomorrow is a 750 rupee place with ¡Hot Water! run by Sihks. The owner there combs his long beard carefully into his turban. I would have moved to the Sihks' place sooner, but they were fully booked. I visited a few other hotels. If they have a vacancy, they're gross.

Internet is hard to get, the internet cafes are tiny, crappy, and many want a copy of my passport (just to connect to wifi!). In one restaurant, even when you buy lunch there, they charge for the wifi, with a bad attitude, and ask for the passport. Make it free, easy, and charge me a little extra for the Sprite, ggeesh!

I tried to take the 55A bus to the Botanical Garden today, and after 2 hours of walking around the bus-getting block, a mess of buses and trams going every which way. I asked more than 20 people for specific directions, including a traffic cop. I managed to get on the right bus, pay the 5 rupee fare, and ride it 1 block to the end of the line. I got kicked off, and tried to find it going the other way and never succeeded. Plan B, I tried to take a taxi to the Garden, but the driver didn't speak English and was illiterate, so even pointing at the map didn't help. I felt totally defeated and frustrated.
I feel so familiar with Indian people from the SF bay area and also Texas that I forget many people here don't speak English.

It's really a shame because I like India and would want them to get more income from tourism. Hot showers and internet would be a good start. It's hard for me to understand why getting those things set up would be difficult... They must be. Vietnam, Thailand, the Philippines, Cambodia, and China have their act together better, to varying degrees, than India.

I made friends with a charismatic, short, gay waiter at a local restaurant where I can get toast with jam, porridge (oatmeal) and yummy tchai for 120 rupees ($2.20) in the morning: Sam. He was amazed when I told him we have lots of open land in the US, small towns, farms, Wyoming, Nebraska, etc. We could do better with cheap youth hostels and public transport too, but wifi we do well, and couch surfing... He explained the festival that's going on now, for a female sacred figure Sarashwati Puja (sp?). The school kids build a statue of her out of twigs and mud, parade it around at night with her on a truck, with drums, music, dancing and costumes, then dump the statue in the Ganges river, and also bathe themselves in the river. Every school does this, so there must be thousands of statues that end up in the river!

While I was out today, as questions came up, I made a list of them so I can ask Sam at breakfast tomorrow morning, like how do the men attach the man-skirt rag they wear? A TAMU Indian classmate Thomas called it a "dotti", I think. Why do some men dye their hair/beard orange? I also sent some questions about food and clothing to my TAMU friend Shilpa. Her response was helpful and she said my questions and observations made her laugh :)

After baggin the trip to the Botanical Garden, I walked to the Flower Market and around the north end of the city. I saw a communist party parade (CPI), followed by a labor union parade. I saw lots of manual labor being done in workshops that front the street: wood carving and furniture, pipes and plumbing, engines, window frames, wires, clocks, fans, bicycle repair, welding, grinding, sewing, flower arranging, eye glasses, cooking, tchai served in tiny terra cotta cups people throw in the gutter when they're done. I saw every kind of shape and sized package and object you can imagine being carried on a man's head: oil barrels, suitcases, rings the size of tractor tires wrapped in shiny foil, baskets, a double mattress on the heads of two men, huge styrofoam boxes, stacks of big metal bowls, plastic bottles, beanbag fill. I walked through the banking district, where I was the only white person in thousands, and also the only woman. No business women! There are public urinals for men, but I had no toilet options all afternoon as streetfood stalls don't have bathrooms. No Macy's, no Starbucks, no bank lobby, no gas station john, nada.
I saw 1 white guy in the street all day: Charles, a retiree from Calgary. I flagged him down because his small backpack was open. After "hello" and "isn't the flower market awesome but muddy!", he started to complain about how it's difficult to get around and get things done in India. He thought Vietnam and Thailand were much easier, more convienient. Fellah, I hear ya. He asked me if I manage OK as a woman traveling alone. I said other than the staring, it seems that about 5 men each day I pass on the street make an effort to lean over and slightly bump into me, on purpose.

I minimize taking my cell phone out of my bag to take photos in crowds, so many good "guy carrying huge thing on his head" pics are on the cheap regular camera. I'll try to upload some soon!

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