Calcutta 2006

Postcards from:

Big Bear Lake California
Bangkok Thailand
Calcutta India
Angkor Wat Cambodia
Aranyaprathet border
Angkor Wat First Day
Angkor Wat Second Day
Angkor Wat Third Day
Bangkok Thailand
Big Bear Lake California

KOLKATA: Rickshaw driver pauses to let me admire his vehicle... or to see if I might be a prospective fare.

KOLKATA: Birds hanging around one of the many sidewalk fast food cafes blocking nearly every sidewalk in downtown Kolkata.

KOLKATA: Entrance to the $120 Senator Hotel where I stayed for four nights.

KOLKATA: Pedicabs wait for passengers. Most of the fares I saw were old Indian men or mothers with their children.

KOLKATA: Commerce on one of the less busy side streets.

KOLKATA: Venders of every sort of product set up shop on any empty section of the sidewalks, often obstructing passage by pedestrians.

KOLKATA: A variety of transportation options wait just outside the end of the line on the Metro near the airport.

KOLKATA: Masses of people exit the end of the line Metro station.

KOLKATA: Rickshaw activity down one busy ally.

KOLKATA: Street markets like this one are a common sight throughout downtown Kolkata.

KOLKATA: Unusual produce on display by a sidewalk vendor near the center of the city.

KOLKATA: Unusual produce on display by sidewalk vendors near the center of the city.

KOLKATA: I watched this determined customer haggle with the equally determined vendor near the center of the city. Neither seemed willing to yield.

KOLKATA: I watched this determined customer haggle with the equally determined vendor near the center of the city. Finally a deal was reached.

KOLKATA: Flower sellers like these do a thriving business in a city which values floral decorations for every religious monument and occasion.

KOLKATA: Another fast food operation during meal time. Moments later the cook caught me taking the photo and gave me a dirty look.

KOLKATA: Taxi drivers who have captured the parking area in front of the Lytton Hotel.

KOLKATA: Community service messages grace large advertising signs here and there... they also serve as street markers, though the street names are hardly visible.

KOLKATA: Community service messages grace large advertising signs here and there... they also serve as street markers, though the street names are hardly visible. I saw very few people smoking in public.

KOLKATA: Community service messages grace large advertising signs here and there... they also serve as street markers, though the street names are hardly visible.

KOLKATA: Another barber plies his trade on the sidewalks of Kolkata. In the foreground a vendor prepares food for sale.

KOLKATA: Monument honoring Indira Gandhi on one of the grassy boulevard medians.

15 November 2006

Hello from Calcutta,

Forget the spiritual legacy of India, the exotic incense and spices, the ethereal music and "Incredible India" images seen worldwide in the BBC commercials. Calcutta is none of that and definitely is not the best place to see the country's charming side! I should have known better, but hope springs eternal and my Thai advisers insisted Kolkata would be the best place to make overland arrangements for a visit to Bhutan.

Focused on Bhutan, I overlooked the fact that stopping in Calcutta to finalize ground transport arrangements would require a new Indian visa and the Druk Air check-in agents refused to let me board the flight on November first! So, retracing my steps back into the city I immediately walked over to the Indian Consulate and learned my six month multiple entry visa would take a full five working days to process. A week and a half later the first available Druk Air flight required leaving the hotel before dawn. Cabs parked in front of the hotel at 4AM eagerly vied for the privilege of making the $8 predawn 25 minute run to the airport.

With every seat occupied and the stewardesses overworked passing out meals, I am sure we were all glad the flight only took two hours. Arriving at 8AM in Kolkata has its benefits. With plenty of time to find a way into the city I decided to check out the recently completed high speed airport rail link. The train station about a block from the arrival terminal appeared completely deserted! The modern train link has been kept a state secret. With no signs to inform passengers and only two daily scheduled runs into the city, it is next to impossible for anyone to find or use the service! An investigative reporter for the Kolkata Times speculated corrupt officials were the culprits, but I suspect inept management is an equally likely explanation.

Declining to engage in deliberately confusing negotiations with the enormous swarm of waiting taxis and their obnoxious touts, off I walked in the direction of city. These walks are always educational. I love watching the incredulous looks which greet my explanations for declining to do what most sensible foreign travelers do upon arriving in a strange city. Away from the crafty creatures preying on unwary foreign travelers one discovers a cross section of humanity and activities more representative of reality. Clogged streets full of over crowded rattletrap buses vying with every imaginable form of other transport provided an opportunity to watch the determination with which drivers attempt to be first to squeeze into each tiny traffic gap, horns blasting long and loud to underscore the driver's irritated impatience.

Hoards of dirty denizens crowded the narrow unpaved shoulders as I started my dusty twenty kilometer hike down the highway toward the center of the city. After walking about ten kilometers away from the airport I decided to risk a cab ride to the nearest Metro station. The driver who stopped indicated he would use the meter to establish the fare, but wanting to avoid any opportunity for a misunderstanding I showed him a 100 Rs bill (about $2.20), without any idea what the fare should be. He wobbled his head "yes" and I climbed in. Traffic jams consumed most of the half hour ride, though the driver skillfully maneuvered his car through a maze of side streets and back alleys finally coming to a stop at the obscure entrance to a Metro station. Dark, damp and dirty I plunged into the underground and found the ticket booth. About nine cents got me a ticket to the Park Crossing station where I remembered seeing some of the good hotels on a previous trip. Nothing has changed with the subway system: the old cars are just older and dirtier; the misaligned rails still guarantee a bumpy rocking ride; the station announcements still contain unintelligible English segments designed to confuse rather than inform. But, it is by far the fastest way into the city and local residents good naturedly tolerate what to a foreign visitor is an intolerable aggravation.

Emerging from the motorized catacombs into the city proper, pedestrian sidewalks serving as temporary abodes for the country's poorest don't make progress any easier. Sections with missing tiles or open excavation trenches compete with reckless walkway motorcycle riders who challenge walkers for the right of way. At one point a spread out blanket served as a crib for a tiny emaciated baby crying on the concrete, its parents busy nearby preparing the family's meal of rice and weeds. Rickshaws pulled by skinny barefoot men in rags, pathetic rusty pedicabs powered by scrawny screaming drivers, dilapidated yellow taxicabs sounding their horns in irritation make perambulation slow, hazardous and problematic for any but those who have become oblivious to the jostling confusion.

Spitting, though now against the law is ubiquitous. A good many people still chew betlenut and make an art of distance spitting the red juice produced. Air is full of dust producing a disgusting black discharge every time I blow my nose. Tradesmen carry their heavy tools in canvas bags which they swing side to side as they walk down the crowded sidewalks, too often banging the massive clubs into other pedestrians... including me on one occasion. Smelly uncovered sewers and blackened walls serving as open air urinals remain an unpleasant reminder that Kolkata has a long way to go before it will be ready for finicky First World tourists. Generally, I am not finicky. This time my tolerance for sensory insults finally met its limits.

All of the city street maps I found contained gross inaccuracies: missing or wrong street names and multi-word names with strange unpronounceable spellings made locating any address in the city a challenge. Street signs where they exist at all are difficult to recognize. Most are provided by advertisers with the incidental addition of street names somewhere on the display. Fortunately, buildings are often identified with the addresses spelled out in full or visitors would be perpetually lost! To make matters even more confusing, long streets will have different names at different locations along the way. People never refused to give directions when I got lost: and, every direction turned out to be wrong... or misunderstood. Pronounced with whimsical intonations, "You go second left turning..." and other equally incomprehensible sentence constructions guaranteed adventure during every attempt to navigate the warren of twisting, turning short alleyways and interrupted boulevards.

Finding all the good value hotels fully booked after hours of searching, necessity forced me into a series of over priced four star establishments. At $175, the Peerless Inn might fetch $60 in Bangkok and the $120 Senator Hotel would be hard pressed to compete with a good Motel 6 in America. Both establishments employed as many security personnel as service staff, including a contingent of khaki clad government guards armed with automatic weapons loitering inconspicuously near the entrances. Disheartened and ready to escape the misnamed "City of Joy" I started looking into a quick way out.

Then, very near the so-called "New Market" I spotted what actually turned out to be a quite good hotel... and affordable. I had been avoiding this area frequented by tourists and the obnoxious smooth talking touts who accost every new foreign face, but finally curiosity got the better of me and I made inquiries. Good thing, too because here I discovered the excellent $62 Lytton Hotel... with no rooms available! The accommodating receptionist said she thought there might be a room available later and would know in a couple hours. So, I camped out in the lobby waiting for one to become available. Good fortune emerged from the surrounding slime and I actually enjoyed my last twenty-four hours in a city justly described as the "Cesspool of Asia." So much for "Incredible India." In my opinion, the only thing incredible in this Indian city is the filth and confusion! Arrangements for the exploration of Bhutan can await another time, another place.

Peace

Fred L Bellomy

PS: "A Liberal's Pledge to Disheartened Conservatives" by Michael Moore offered his pledge to devastated conservatives and I added my endorsement to it. During this time of dramatic shifts in the ways our government will set national and international policies it is worth reflecting on the genius of democracy, "The worst of all governments... except for all the others!" (Winston Churchill)

PPS: A friend recently reminded me of the power of a hug. I went searching and found Free Hugs website. One of my favorite little songs is Four Hugs A Day. Here are the lyrics to the song. F

KOLKATA: One of the many sidewalk barbers at work on the street.

KOLKATA: Rickshaw driver pauses to let me admire his vehicle... or to see if I might be a prospective fare.

KOLKATA: "Holy" cows still roam the streets, though I saw many fewer than during my last visit four years ago.

KOLKATA: Pedicabs wait for passengers. Fares seem to be mostly old local men and mothers with their children.

KOLKATA: Some of the walls along this busy ally serve as a public urinal.

KOLKATA: Rickshaw activity near an area frequented by foreign tourists.

KOLKATA: Trash pickers hard at work, a common sight near every pile of garbage.

KOLKATA: Kitchen crew at work preparing food that will be sold by a fast food sidewalk cafe.

KOLKATA: Deluxe public urinal. I qualify with deluxe because any old section of a stone wall can become by custom a urinal, something easily identified by stink and blackened stones.

KOLKATA: Rickshaw driver pauses to let me admire his vehicle... or to see if I might be a prospective fare.

KOLKATA: Sugar cane juice extraction machine. People drink the sweet liquid like Americans drink Coca Cola.

KOLKATA: "Holy" cows still roam the streets, though I saw many fewer than during my last visit four years ago.

KOLKATA: Art on the wall of the $120 Senator Hotel where I stayed for four nights.

END

KOLKATA: Home sweet home for thousands of Indian people... or this guy might just be resting after a hard day's begging.

KOLKATA: Deluxe public urinal. I qualify with deluxe because any old section of a stone wall can become by custom a urinal, something easily identified by stink and blackened stones.

KOLKATA: Sugar cane juice extraction machine. People drink the sweet liquid like Americans drink Coca Cola.

KOLKATA: "Holy" cows still roam the streets, though I saw many fewer than during my last visit four years ago.

KOLKATA: Looking down the street from the entrance to the surprisingly good $61 Lytton Hotel I finally got into my last night in Kolkata.

KOLKATA: Muslim protestors "marching" by the hotel.

KOLKATA: This Hindu temple sitting in the middle of a busy intersection stops traffic when groups of people pause to worship.

KOLKATA: These black stones are objects of veneration. I watched as several individuals performed devotional acts in front of them.

KOLKATA: Banks of scribes like these with ancient manual typewriters are found near many government buildings.

KOLKATA: Sidewalks are rarely smooth and finished. Sewer work like this means frequent disruptions.

KOLKATA: Sidewalks are often used for makeshift offices like this one promoting CitiBank.

KOLKATA: Fabric gets a new color down one busy ally.

KOLKATA: Fabric gets a new color down an ally dedicated to the craft.

KOLKATA: A family group sets up house keeping under the shade of a sidewalk tree.

KOLKATA: Another family does the same thing nearby.

KOLKATA: This tot cries for some attention from her brother. She had a large, poorly applied plaster cast on one of her legs.

KOLKATA: Trash pickers hard at work, a common sight near every pile of garbage. One man's trash is another's treasure!

KOLKATA: Trash pickers hard at work, a common sight near every pile of garbage.

KOLKATA: Dogs scrounge a meal before the trash pickers load a truck: one man's trash is another's treasure.

KOLKATA: Entrance to the Indian Handicrafts store where a friendly merchant again helped me find an address.

KOLKATA: My taxi driver on the way to the airport as I escaped this unpleasant city.

KOLKATA: Community service messages grace large advertising signs here and there... they also serve as street markers, though the street names on the other side are hardly visible. This is a message suggesting that buying brides is still a common practice.

KOLKATA: Entrance to the Bhutan consulate located some distance from the city center.

KOLKATA: Entrance to the Bhutan consulate.

KOLKATA: Looking down the street in front of the entrance to the Bhutan consulate.

KOLKATA: Sign marking the Kolkata location of Guru Maharaji's ashram not far from the entrance to the Bhutan consulate.