Kolkata (Calcutta), India: Intense
Jan 12th, 2008 by Jen
Okay, deep breath. I can do this.
1950’s yellow taxis; a labyrinth of unmarked streets; dirty guesthouse, hairball in the sink, brown carpet and walls that were originally blue, an unidentifiable smell like diesel, me almost losing it upon arrival, the “floor boy” futilely waxing the tiled floor in the hallway; insane traffic, drivers speeding up to hit me, locals making mad dashes across the streets, even in green lights; filthy streets–trash, trash, and more trash; tree leaves caked in so much dirt I don’t know how they can breathe; my black boogers; men in business suits walking to and from appointments; middle-class women on a saree shopping spree, bags and purses in hand, their own bright silk sarees fluttering elegantly in the breeze; school children chasing each other; old men and boys lathering up in their shorts at the public water pump on the sidewalk; people bathing and washing clothes in the polluted brown river; a Bollywood film in Hindi complete with “dramatic” acting, spontaneous song, flirtatious dance, loud guffaws all around us, the random words in English like “problem solved” or the disparaging curse from one man to the next–“You George W. Bush!”–and the man next to me laughing out loud and then looking immediately at me to see my reaction, me laughing in return; a Domino’s Pizza surrounded by starving street kids; hawkers and their wares everywhere; crippled men begging desperately; street kids as filthy as the open latrines; despondent women cooking over a fire under a ragged tarp against a wall–their home; trying to eat an orange while a woman holds out her hand, giving her my remaining orange and then putting mine away; a begging child grabbing my leg, unwilling to let go, and leaving a streak of black fingerprints; a deaf man stumbling after me with his listless leg dragging on the pavement, imploring “money, money, money”; a poisonous smell, only to find I am standing in raw sewage; kids living on train station platforms, huddled in a circle playing cards, inhaling glue-soaked rags stuffed in their mouths, brains fried beyond repair; street programs trying to help these kids but way in over their heads—it’s more than they can bare; people passing it all by; me passing it all by, not knowing my place here, trying to understand; a man unloading luggage bags from a truck to his hawker stall losing hold and the stack of bags falling over, three people in front of us walking by, Mark leaning down and picking up the bags to move to the side (really in order to clear the walk so we can pass), the man looking up and beaming at Mark and pumping his hand over and over in a series of “thank you’s”; a crazy old women yelling at us and waving what looks like a hypodermic needle as we try to walk down the sidewalk, a passing woman intervening and herding the old woman out of our way, us smiling and saying “thank you” to our intercessor and she smiling back; visiting Mother Teresa’s Motherhouse where she lived and died here in Kolkata, learning about how she didn’t care what others thought or did–she just felt this intense stirring up inside her heart to do something for the poorest of the poor here and she did it, even during what she called the time of her “darkness” when she felt so far from God’s presence, even when the Church questioned her, and even when some Indian gentry denied the reality she tried to show them. Feeling better.
Calcutta Cabs / Victoria Memorial at night
Caught half a finger deep…
/ Morning bath
Need a marigold? / …or a duck?









Happy New Year!! Glad to hear you are still trekking away. Just started second semester……I’d rather be somewhere else even if it was in Congestion City. Calcutta must have been a little bit of shock to the personal space. Still in awe of the wonderful photos you are taking. Can’t wait for the slide show presentation, lol. Continue having fun exploring what the world has to offer,
Bryan
Wow. Again, Jen, amazed at your descriptveness and the sensitivity of your perceptions. I know you understand that just any old American tourist, or perhaps most tourists no matter where they are from, would consider the experiences you just described as inconvenient, at best, and unbearable, at worst. Or perhaps they wouldn’t have noticed … too scared to help the vendor pick up his wares from the sidewalk… too horrified by the dirtiness to give their orange to a beggar. Though I guess its impossible not to notice, its certainly possible to ignore or shut out the truth.
Its hard to reconcile in your head, huh? How God can be in control when you witness this amount of desperation, dispair and suffering. Hard to know what to do at all. I have a hard time understanding. I’m sure when Luke and I get to Mumbai, we’ll have to face this question and many, many others.
Thanks for the preview, and for the stunning photos! (Don’t tell Luque that I said that…;-)
Blessings on you and Mark, as you go.
you are right and i am sure no human wants to live like that.i wish it changes some day and india is a better place for human beings to live i wish people like u can help poor,but on the other hand the poverty is an ever growing problem. i can do little so can u. little+little = some. in india many are in need of that little.i am not a beggar with internet facility, just asking for that some little for the needy.
Wow-when my brother was India last summer he painted me a glimmer of what you witnessed, but the way you described it really said it all. Thank you for making me take some time today to really reflect on all the magnificent things God has provided me with and how blessed we are.
Thanks to all of you for such support in what we are learning about ourselves and the world. And yes, Brian, my grandfather does have a slide projector and screen. Maybe I will just bring it in to work during lunch.
We only have about 2,000 pics so far, so maybe you will only have to sit through it for a week?
You have, without a doubt, captured the Indian Experience with absolute perfection. If ever I want to describe what India is “really like” to anybody, I’ll direct them here, as I will never, ever be able to do it as well. Kudos and best wishes to you both.
Val & BG
Whew! I need many deep breaths after that. And lots of contemplation. Amazing, phenomenal, thank you for sharing Jen.
Aww….thanks.:)
Jen & Mark
After reading all of that, still not sure whether you liked Inda or not. All your descriptions had me with goosebumps remembering all you saw and felt.
Regards
Peter & Deb