Streets of Calcutta

Hi Everyone,

Well, right now Sameer and I are in a cyber cafe in Kolkata, and all the directions for this blog are in Chinese. I can't figure out how to post pictures, and we'll how well I do guessing the "post" button based on characters, pictures, and font colors. I have great pictures and hope to be posting more photos, as fate and my fortune will have it.

A week, for a traveler, is quite a long time. We have traveled from Delhi, the capital of India, to Nainital, a small lake town buried in the foothills of the Himalayas and covered in fog. Jamie and I spent our time in Nainital just the two of us, and we learned alot about traveling as two white women. In some ways, we became part of the tourist attractions wiht our large backpacks and Jamie's blonde hair; in other ways, I think we're just something to be curious about and stare at. It is uncomfortable at times, but also part of the job description of traveling to a place that sees few white skinned people. We encountered a lot of rain in Nainital, where monsoon rains were just beginning. We took in more tea and conversation than sights, but watching the rain was enjoyable, and Mom, a monsoon rain sounds like a plane taking off over your head, if you happen to be inside. It is a rain that stops traffic and demands to be viewed. Since we had done most of the activities we were interested in doing (hikes and mango icecream), Jamie and I decided to leave Nainital and take up Sameer's invitation to join him in Almora, which is a rural village to the north. The taxi ride there was beautiful and exciting, and the town of Almora was stunning--like a horseshoe of color and clean, flapping clothing rimming the ridges of these bright green, jagged himalayan foothills. We visited Jageshwar, a Hindi temple, in the rain, and we spent time at the Center, which is where Sameer and his coworkers base their work for the Mountain Project. G.P. and Anu, who run the Center, were very generous to us, and we met several young women from Kashmir studying food processing who happened to be at the Center for a study trip and conference. I gave away my conditioner, and had an interesting talk about boyfriends. G.P. taught me about changing mindsets, and that a person really gains nothing with a new culture until first the mindset is understood. So I have endeavored to change my mindset to better understand this vast place I am guest to.

On the overnight train back to Delhi, we met two Nols leaders with their group of students-- this was enjoyable for me because I finally got to hear an American accent, which to me sounds Australian. I've been curious about what my accent sounds like since I began talking to people in Bangkok.

...and if you're still with me and this post, here I am now in Calcutta, which is the old British way to spell Kolkata. I like it here; I've enjoyed Delhi and Calcutta the most. Calcutta is impressive to me for its enviornmentalism. Here, Indians grow corn on top of landfills. There are also no to go cups, pastries off the street are packaged in newspaper, and all glass bottles are saved, recapped and rebottled. At a Bengalise restaurant (Bengal is the state Calcutta is in), we had an excellent conversation with Gitangalee (our hostess here) about white people who come to India to institute change. In me, this conversation raised the question of cultural exchange--where is the reverse peace corps, where people from this side of the world come to our side, and teach conservation. I've been showring with only one bucket of water; it is surprisingly easy and takes less energy than a shower. I've appreciated India for it's lessons in the difference between necessary and excess baggage.

I spent part of this morning face down on my knees, dry heaving in the streets of Calcutta. (travel tip: don't take malaria pills before breakfast). This experience put me in an contemplative mood. Posibly because last night, returning from Oceans 13 at the theatre, we walked the streets to return "home". Seeing people sleeping in the humid night air created a different relationship than in the day, when people who beg approach and you just keep walking. These people really look sweet, and young, and homeless, when asleep; and at night, I was able to take it in and not feel defensive or like I couldn't stop walking. And really take a look for once. In Calcutta, Mother Teresa did a lot of her work with street children. And this morning, I was on my knees dry heaving, sharing these same streets. I don't think this entry is quite composed, or fully explored, but this is India for me. In some ways I feel it is a physical hazing--flea bites, mosquitoes, malarai pills, prickly skin conditions, the feel of a woman brushing her baby's hand on your leg as you sit in the autorickshaw and wait for the light to turn. In many other ways, India is an emotional hazing-- confusing, consolidating, and like a great introduction to something important I want to be part of.

Lots of love to you all, Today is my one year graduation from UO, so special hello to class 06 readers and the interesting feelings this date may raise. Take care, and keep up the search! -Jenny