Introduction to Insane-dia

Stephen ponders the Taj in Agra

"I hope your fucking plane crashes!" were the last words spoken to me by an Indian not affiliated with an airport. The tuk-tuk driver and I had had a shouting match that drew spectators and nearly came to physical violence. He was right in thinking that 20 cents was nothing to a foreigner like me, but what he didn't realize was that I had reached the limit of the cheating and poisoning I could endure from one country. If I hadn't been so ill and stuck in the back of the plane with the nauseating smells of toilets and food, I might have felt an Argo-like elation about escaping India. For nearly a week, even the sight of the word, "curry" would trigger my anger for the place. I literally could not remember any moments of joy. BUT after a sufficient convalescence of fresh air, Guinness, and overall Western comfort, I feel I can reflect on the month long journey and give India a fair shake. India fascinated and exhausted me in equal measure, and so I'll try to capture and disentangle the highs and lows.

Like the ubiquitous thali meal, we wanted to have a sampling of India that included food, nature, big cities, and a bit of history. India is a huge country. Imagine trying to see DC, Vermont, Vegas, the Grand Canyon, Omaha, and LA in one trip. But we succeeded in plotting out a course that took us from east to west, to eight cities, into the mountains, through a desert, and out a capital.

Thailand prepared me for tuk-tuks, traffic, and heat. China prepared me for streets littered with people and rubbish. But nothing prepared me for Kolkata. Usually, there's a suburban buffer between the airport and the bowels of a city, but in Kolkata, the city swallows you the moment you step out the door.

I will never forget the images from that first sweaty taxi ride: the bright and brilliant saris; giant heaps of trash and the pigs, children, and cows on top of them; Bollywood and Vodaphone billboards;  young men and boys bathing in oil drums;  shacks upon shacks, taxis and tuk-tuks upon taxis and tuk-tuks;  street side barber shops; people carrying everything including kitchen sinks on their head; saris drying in the sun; crumbling British architecture;  kids playing cricket among goats, palm trees, and dust. All of this to the smells of curry and rot and the soundtrack of horns blaring. Honking is so much a part of driving, I am certain the pilots are honking as they speed down the runways.

Highlights

Park Street Cemetery

This 18th-century resting place for many an imperialist is the only quiet oasis in the city. The giant tombs are lovely and those that are pyramid shaped are a bit eerie and seem a bit out of place.

 

 

 
Mother Teresa's House


I know there are many Catholics in the world who would regard a trip to this house as a sacred pilgrimage. I was greatly impressed with all I learned about her work with the shunned ill as well as children of slums. But I can't say I was moved to tears or felt any great reverence. I'm not sure if this is due to something lacking in my character or it's that I have seen so many temples, shrines, monasteries, churches, mosques, etc. on my  travels. What I felt was a confirmation that a common outcome of all religions is to bring people together to provide comfort and help as well as a general moral compass for how to treat others.


Mother Theresa's Tomb

Entrance to the house is on the right

 Riverside Temples

Darshineswar Kali and Belur Math Temples are along Hooghly River. Not only are these places to worship one of the trillion Hindi gods, but also a place to have a spiritual bath, picnic, or quality time with any of the many monkeys living on the grounds.

The Lowlights

I either can't or don't want to show the lowlights of the three days in Kolkata. First, it was insanely hot, hotter than any day in Thailand, but as it turned out, not the hottest days we experienced on this trip. Our usual mode of transport is walking, but this was difficult due to the heat and traffic. We would come back to the hotel sweaty and sooty and completely worn out. And that was by 2p.m. The subway and buses are so overcrowded that the men have no choice but to cop a feel which they certainly took the liberty of doing. All this chaos is connected to the overwhelming poverty. I had seen slums in Istanbul and Bangkok but never like this. Taking pictures of someone's everyday living situation seemed intrusive and exploitative. Nor did I take pictures of the many mansions I saw. I kept imagining how my mom would feel if she were in her front yard pulling weeds and suddenly some Koreans stopped to take a picture of her. I'm sure she'd be startled and confused. Every time on the trip I saw a cute kid doing something simple like eating a bowl of soup or sad looking women in doorways, I'd want to take a picture to capture the beauty of that moment. But the feeling of it being an invasion would cause me to hesitate and the moment would be gone. This, I guess, is why we have that funky and fickle thing called Memory.

Random Images

kids  playing cricket outside an abandoned builing

Mother Theresa's house is still a mission and people can come to volunteer here

The Marble Palace. You're supposed to get a permit to enter two days in advance. This  photo is good enough

 

The Victoria Monument. Lovely gardens. A lot of teens come here to make out, apparently

St. John's Church

First beer of the trip. There are surprisingly few places other than hotels to get a beer.

Ok, I made an exception for this shot

and this one..