I am drawn back to these places for the food, but also for the consistency of experiences. When I want to be reminded of people and times in the past these places are essential. It is also helpful to see what changes have taken place at these points to gauge my overall sense of a place's differences.
Yesterday afternoon, I arrived slightly frazzeled, but okay, to Kolkata's Howrah railway station via Chennai from Bangalore. The trip was about 40 hours of consistent clanking and buzzing of the three tier sleeper car. Along the way I met a construction team from a village near Auroville that was headed here to work on a new DVD shop. The firm's owner and manager has done extensive construction in Auroville and had even worked on the Matri Mandir and US Pavillion that we visited. We both laughed at the Mandir's fugly design and wondered if it would ever be completed. He showed me drawings of the project here and invited me by the worksite.
Since arriving, I've been busy with errands that are essential to my trip back to Bangladesh. In between getting passport photos and waiting in line to get my Bangladeshi Visa (3 passport photos, copies of passport & indian visa, correctly filled out forms and RS 5000) I've hit the street corners, Internet cafes and restuarants that hold meaning to me. The repetition is deliberate as it helps me feel more grounded in this chaotic indian metropolis.
I am on my way back to Bangladesh to volunteer at the Center for Rehabilitation of the Paralysed. While I'll be there for the next three weeks, M has chosen to stay in India and meet with the Deaf communities in Bangalore, Srinigar (don't ask) and Dehli. I miss her like crazy, but it is also nice to travel alone.
While I dodge the same guys who try to sell me hash and marajuana 2 months ago, I've also taken in fine sweet lime sodas, paw bahji (Kolkata variation on the Mumbia staple Pav Bhaji) and the views of New Market from the 9th floor of the Lindsay Hotel. This is the same time that we stayed here prior to our departure back to the US in 2003, so it is an interesting repeat of climate - Godawful f'ing hot and humid. Thus, I've been zipping in and out of air-conditioned spaces like an artful boxer dodging punches.
Speaking of punching, I've been enjoying the recent political flags and graffiti that cover every spare square-inch of wallspace in the city. All the candidates have slogans and color schemes, but each ad has prominent directions to "Punch this symbol." In a region where so many people are illiterate (who knows about learning and cognitive disabilities), it is nice to see the ballots have icons.
As the posting could hardly be complete without a status report on my digestive system - I'm in the grips of another fun bout with dysentery. However, the Cipro flows like water here. It is less than $3 for two doses (RS 9 per tablet at two tablets / day by 3 days for each dose). With rates that good, I could survive more than a couple rounds with Anthrax - Bring it on you commie terrorist scum!
Tomorrow morning, I'll hop a bus at 5:00AM to the border at Benapole, then on to Dhaka by 6:00PM or so. I did finally score an alarm clock with glow in the dark numbers, Japanese design and Chinese manufacturing. I'm just uncertain as how to turn the alarm off without removing the batteries... Don't fret dear reader, as I will keep you updated as this important story unfolds.
PS: Just for fun
