Commit No Nuisance

You must have a healthy sense of the ridiculous in order to live in India. A hobby of mine whenever I'm walking around is to take photos of signs I think are hilarious. The "Commit No Nuisance" was spotted when I was walking from Park Street back towards Camac Street. The fuzzy one is the mudflap of a truck that pictures a boy peeing. Not sure why. Public urination is pretty common on the streets of Kolkata-- maybe that's it? There is also a matrimonial website ad. Because the first thing I want a guy to say to me is "Namashkar" (hello).

We Lost a Cricket Player. . . and other tales from Friday night

Some friends and I were invited to a reception last Friday in honor of the Irish and Dutch cricket players who had competed against each other during the World Cricket Tournament. I decided I needed a crash course in Cricket, which I failed miserably. We showed up in our nice cocktail dresses and entered the biggest crush and the most press I've seen in Kolkata.

We wandered to the bar, which was surrounded by very cute, very tall cricket players. I struck up a conversation with a couple of them, mainly them making fun of my drinking canned Guinness, and I introduced myself to one-- apparently the captain of the Irish cricket team. Found that out when he had to go up to make a speech. I also found out that bowlers had to be really tall (usually) while batters could really be any height. Go learning new things. . . awkwardly. :)

As the evening progressed, our group decided it would be a good idea to invite the cricketers out to one of the clubs we knew. Arriving en masse, we danced, and drank, and I realized that three inch heels were not meant to be worn for seven hours. There were three cricketers who arrived with us, and they were pretty good dancers. At the end of the evening, when we tried to collect everyone to go home, the personal security person of the cricketers started asking us, rather loudly, where the third cricketer was who had arrived with us. We weren't aware that we were supposed to be tracking them.

We looked everywhere, and we kind of expect to see some kind of news story, because, well, we apparently lost a cricketer that night. Whoops.

Shantiniketan

A few weeks ago I finally escaped from Kolkata to see some of the countryside. We went to Shantiniketan, which is best known for its university that was founded by famous Bengali poet and author of the Indian national anthem, Rabindranath Tagore.

After a 3.5 hour drive, we arrived and wandered through part of the university, where we found the building entirely made of stained glass above. It's supposed to be a gathering place for those of all religious and backgrounds. Even though it was deserted due to the university break (we went during the winter season), the colors and surrounding flowers were gorgeous.

There were still people walking around and shopping at the tourist stalls despite the school break. Many student groups and film makers were seeing the sites and snapping photos, taking in the museum and the peace that pervades the area around the university. There were no car horns, and you could hear the birds chirping in the trees.

Our last stop was in an NGO run village that sold goods made by local women's groups and meant to support them with living wages. We walked around the to back of the village where there were picnicking grounds. The final photo above was one of the scenes we saw.

After getting to see a little of the village, we had to head back to Kolkata, but I hope to make it out of the city again soon.

Confluence of Cultures

At 8am a group of us met our guide, Ifte from Calcutta Walks, who took us on their walk called the "Confluence of Cultures". Over the next 3.5 hours, we went from a Buddhist Temple, the Anglo-Indian part of Kolkata, a Muslim Mosque, a Jain Temple, a Hindu Temple, and a Jewish Synagogue. The photos above were a couple of the sites and people I saw while wandering through the streets.

Kolkata is a city of many different peoples. We wandered through tight passages through local markets, saw Chinatown, spoke with a couple of curious Burmese tourists, and got to see parts of local neighborhoods that I've never seen before.

When we stopped at Armenian church, which dates back to the 1600s, a lady stopped to speak with the group. She said that at one point there were more than 10,000 Aremenian families in Kolkata, but now there are about 58 and Aremenians from outside the city and country are recruited to come to the school. Even with dwindling numbers, the community keeps the language and culture alive through the church and school they run.

Ending our walk at a small neighborhood mosque, we stopped to sit and rest for a minute, and a local man stopped to tell us a little about his religion. After a short exchange with the group, he came up to my friend and me and asked me how old I was, if I was married, and why not. There are some things that are the same anywhere here as those are the three most common questions I get in India. :)

The Airport or Mass Chaos

Touts and monks-- they stretched for miles when we showed up to the airport and tried to check into the flight from Bangkok to Kolkata. We stood in line patiently until the Jet Airlines folks finally arrived to start checking people in. We got to the counter, and were promptly told to go around to the other counter because they were only checking in people to Mumbai.

We shlepped our stuff around to the other side, only to be met with the sight above. Attempting the line that only had passengers with suitcases, we were told that they would only check in first class passengers. We stared at the touts and all the stuff, looked at the lady, and begged.

After getting to the gate, we were met with many, many Buddhist monks with strange looking bags. They were trying to figure out this security business and what was required of them before they got on the plane. This involved much discussion and searching of bags, right in the middle of the lane leading down to the entrance to the walkway to the plane. After we all got through and eventually figured out what was happening, the touts, in unison, looked at the "just passengers" and motioned us to the front of the line. Every single one of them had to gate check their bags because they had brought too many to place on board. *Sigh*

It was a relief when we got seated and on the plane. Just imagine what happened on the other end with baggage claim.