I feel stupid, sad, and excited pretty much everyday here.

See, the thing about being a foreigner, is that even when you've gotten the hang of things, you're still going to make stupid mistakes. All the time. Today I took the bus to my service learning site, The Loreto Day School (http://www.loretosealdah.com/). It was my first time taking the bus. I was like a nervous little school boy who doesn't speak the language and isn't actually going to school. I was determined to find my right stop, pay the correct amount at the correct time, and not do any of the many other stupid things one can do on a bus. The bus generally doesn't really stop moving when you get on it, but today it did. Phase 1, complete. Feeling good. The bus guy wanders over to me after a few minutes and I pay for my ticket. Nice. Then a group of guys get on, look me over pretty well, and ask me to get up, because there was something under the cushion, or some line of BS. I don't know, I don't speak the language. As I stood up amongst them, I almost got pickpocketed. I don't know this for sure, but at one point I felt my phone moving slowly and gently towards the opening of my pocket. I flinched really hard, lost my balance, fell a little bit, found my phone at the edge of my pocket and pushed it back in, fell a few more times, found the hand rail, and soon sat back down. All of the guys got off at the next stop, after about a one minute ride. I thought about talking some smack to them as they left, but I decided it wasn't worth it. I could have thrown down, but its tough when you are incredibly intimidated by the 7 guys you want to throw down against. I could have called up my......roommate Erik. That's what I'll do next time.

As we're getting close to the stop, I saw a sign that lead me to believe I was in the right place. Some girls got off after calling out what I thought was the right stop. I tapped the girl in front of me to ask if we were in the right place, and she nodded. So I yelled and ran to the door, and more or less hopped out while it was moving. As I almost fell over on the road for a period of 5-10 seconds, the bus guy was yelling at me, trying to tell me that the place I wanted was farther up the road. So I had to walk an extra mile or so. Cultural immersion. Its ok guys, I've been here for over a month. Totally have it all down.

In contrast to my thorough embarrassment on the bus, my service learning place is wonderful. Its a school/orphanage for girls. Many come for the education and pay tuition, many come off the streets for free, but go home at the end of the day, and many more live there, having no parents or family to take care of them. Its about 700 total, with 100-200 living there permanently. Today I mostly toured, watched a video, and had about half an hour to sit with some girls, but it was the most happy I've been since I came to India. I can't wait to go back. The only thing I'm worried about is sustaining the web of lies I've created for myself. If they find out that I don't actually work at the zoo, caring for an elephant that is also my girlfriend, I'll look so stupid in front of all of them. And I've had enough of that lately.

I'll never shave myself again

For all of you who have at one time or another told me, "Wow Adam, your new Indian beard is truly disgusting. I no longer find you attractive," today is your lucky day. I was saving up so that I could get shaved on the street, and I'm very glad I did.

This is the place. I had to wait for this guy to finish getting his hair cut. I'm definitely coming back for that

The experience was incredible. He shaved me better than I think I'll ever shave myself. He started out by unexpectantly spraying me in the face with water, then rubbed my beard for a few seconds. The shaving cream is put on with a brush, and then he just....shaves away. And you don't even feel it. There was aftershave, and some sort of smooth rock he rubbed on my face too. I don't know.

We never really spoke to each other. I sat down and pointed to my face and said "face." and he nodded. When he was done, I opened my wallet and looked at him. He showed me ten fingers, meaning ten Rupees (about 20 cents). I tipped him and he laughed. Then we parted ways. And that was all. It was tough to walk away. I feel like he knows me so well; not many men can say they've shaved another man's face before. But to him, its just business, and that was the hardest thing for me to accept. Nothing more, nothing personal. Just business.

Soon I'll get a haircut. I think those are about 30 cents. In the future, I probably won't tell you this much about my hygienic life. Just thought it was interesting. 

Shantiniketan: A World Wonder Undiscovered

The title is a bit of an exaggeration, but the past couple days we took a trip to Shantiniketan, which was quite nice. The city is in rural Bengal, which if you’re unfamiliar with rural Bengal, looks just like the Jungle Book. Less jungle though. Not the jungle part so much, but the man village part. Rural Bengal looks like the man village in The Jungle Book.

Lots of straw huts, lots of rice, a handful of monkeys. The funny thing about the countryside is that even though it was the first time we got fresh air and saw open space in the last month, it was still crazy (in a congestion sense). Driving through a village is almost the same as driving through a big city, except you add a few cows and goats to the village road. I’ve given up on the idea of a leisurely drive in India. It won’t happen. (sigh)…and now I can finally begin to learn this place. That was my final hurdle.

These monkeys were wacky. Jumping around like kangaroos. Through rice fields. I don’t know.

Shantiniketan was the city designed by Rabindrath Tagore, who is a BIG deal here. He’s like the Superman/Jesus/Emilio Estevez of West Bengal. He was a poet and Nobel Laureate from Kolkata. We visited a school he made, the homes he lived in (he had five in one complex, because he got sick of the same home after awhile. He would just build a new one across the yard and move in there. Much like Luke Sleeper trying to find new shoes.), and some more schools that we made in his honor/tradition. Coming out of the trip, here are my thoughts:

·      I still don’t understand Tagore, but mostly because he was super bizarre and I couldn’t understand most of the speakers accents.

·      Rural Bengal was totally worth the trip. We saw rural India in between Delhi and Jaipur, but it was much more desolate. This was quite picturesque.

·      What were those monkeys doing in that field?? I still don’t get it. There weren’t even trees nearby.

·      Cows are a nuisance to society. The mere fact that Indians put up with them just goes to show that they are truly afraid of bovine retribution.

·      There is so much India to see, its ridiculous.

Highlight: A baul (pronounced “bowel”) band came to play where we were staying. It’s a tradition Bengali form of band music, and it was fascinating. Culture.

If this video doesn't work, then I apologize. 

Now back to homework (P.U.!!) and the city (equally smelly).

That is all. Thank you.

Disclaimer: I would like to formally apologize for my previous blog posts, which have made light of and focused exclusively on the issue of poverty. The poverty in India is something I feel that everyone needs to see, but is certainly not all there is here to see. I fear I have not been treating the people of India with the respect they deserve. The poor deserve to have privacy, to have dignity, and should not be a face-less indicator of how different it is on the other side of the world. India too deserves a greater respect; it has more to offer this world other than a lesson on how good you have it at home. I will continue to talk about the living conditions, and strive to understand them, but I wish to do so with the utmost respect for both the poor and the rich here in India. If you feel passionately about this, and I tell a funny story about some amenity that was sub-par or a person doing something wacky, please don’t be offended. 

This post is exclusively for my mom

Mother,
     Erik and I cooked for our host family tonight. I did...some of the cooking. I have visual evidence.

Nobody told me that we were supposed to acknowledge the camera....

We made spaghetti and chicken parmesan. Erik is a pretty good cook, and I helped (imagine that as a 7 year old would say it). We also bought all the ingredients at the market and everything. Gosh, I'm growing up. 

I sliced these vegetables. I sliced the crap out of these vegetables. I sliced the crap out of most of these vegetables.

In the middle, there may or may not have been some sort of group dancing to the Beach Boys. Ranjit turned it way up, as all fathers do. Turned the bass way way up, as all confused fathers do. We cooked and danced in the true American style: poorly. 

In the end, our parents were so happy with us and our efforts, Ranjit gave everyone celebratory whiskey. (Imagine him speaking very slowly and thoughtfully, as all old men do.) "You may have to use water.........I do not have enough..soda.....as I did not know....that I would have the sufficient enthusiasm....to offer everyone drinks ha ha ha."

A happy family, happy at last. Together.

The meal went really well. I just wanted to tell you that. I may not have done much "cooking" per se, but I certainly watched food being cooked, which will be an invaluable skill when I'm a father and need to provide mismatched and poorly prepared food for my children, when they're left no other option. 

Love, Adam

A Particular Saturday

I set my alarm today for 5:30 am. This nice thing about waking up in the morning as opposed to the night is that you don’t have to convert the time from military time to the time we’re used to. You can just focus on what’s making that awful noise from the desk in your room. We had to be at the West Bengal Tourism office by 7:30, for a cultural heritage tour of Kolkata, and any sort of time commitment means making time for getting ready, having tea, eating an enormous breakfast, and taking an hour to get anywhere. I’m less concerned with telling you about the cultural heritage tour, and more concerned with giving general information/visuals about Kolkata that I have failed to give so far. Some interesting things from today:

Here is the Marble Palace, by far the coolest place we went to on this day. It’s a museum preserved from the time of the Raj, when a few wealthy Indians were puppets of the British overlords, but were still made extremely wealthy. The inside is wall to wall masterpieces of sculptures, paintings, furniture; all incredibly valuable and done in the traditional Greco-Roman style (that’s the best I can do. I don’t know anything about art). They had a set of 20’ by 10’ mirrors, beautifully decorated gold trim. To get them inside, they had to remove the roof, fly them in with a helicopter, and then put the roof back on. The place was just….ridiculous.  I have very limited pictures since pictures were not allowed, but I snuck some from outside.

As you can see, the garden is filled with statues, and on the other side of the building is a private zoo that they still maintain. Some monkeys and birds and stuff. You get it. They say that in India you cannot be alone. This is very true. The most interesting part of the day for me was wandering through the gardens outside this palace. I found some paths that I don’t think we were supposed to go on, got pretty deep in the back of the garden, and found this:

Maybe ten families living here, not even separated from the ornate lawn around them. This is a picture after turning 180 degrees:

And this is right in the middle of the settlement, as you would expect:

It’s a lesson constantly reiterated to me. Where you find beautiful monuments, tributes to the decadence of India’s past, you will find within your immediate view poverty. Always.

Other highlights:

We walked through a few alleys where some local artists live. The area is very poor, but they make these beautiful sculptures all day, which will become idols worshiped at the next holy festival, Durga Puja. There were dozens of these in every shop, so very different than others, and the shops go on for infinite. There is an incredible demand for these sculptures for these festivals, and it is hundreds of artists’ entire livelihood. The sculptures are made of straw and clay, and when the festival is over, they will all be thrown into the river to decompose, and a new batch will be made for the next festival. Here are some examples:

[Check facebook for the non-relevant pictures from the day. As will always happen when walking through India, you’ll get some good ones.]

Concluding the day with a metro ride.

The metro is wall to wall, all the time. Don’t expect personal space or boundaries. I’ve been intimate with a number of Indian men, just by sheer proximity. Getting on and off is what I imagine rugby to be like. I've seen a few girls from our group be swept off their feet and literally carried on or off, by the masses.

Of course, taking pictures on the metro is not easy or advisable. I was sneaky, but there were a least six people between me and my armpit, so inevitably, some people noticed. They got really upset at me, because I was taking pictures of the crowds.

“You don’t take pictures of the good parts of India? Just the crowds?”

“Oh no no. I take pictures of everything………plus, I like the crowds. They’re fun.”

“The crowds are fine? Hmm. So you come to visit India to see the crowds?”

“….no sir.”

That’s something I’ve found here. People get quite upset when the issue of poverty gets brought up. They get defensive and come up with arbitrary reasons why what you are saying can’t actually be called “poverty”. It always seems like there is an embarrassment among the people. This is something I’ve found quite interesting, but it’s a little unfortunate. I know there is something more to these people. Something deep and beautiful, something that unites them and gives them happiness and hope, regardless of the conditions they live in. I haven’t found it yet, but I will. In the meantime, everybody else who doesn’t think a stupid American tourist could ever get that deep or learn that much, will be a bit testy.

That is all. Thank you for your time. Tell me about your adventures some time. 

Super Nerd City

I've just discovered how nerdy this city really is. I mean no disrespect of course. Calcutta has a cultural reputation for being very intellectual. Today, among other things of course, we took an adventure down to "College Street." Sounds like a party right? I pictured lewd women, frisbees on the quad, and a party ever block, with enough cake, Hi-C, and gift bags for everyone. However, college street is this: 

Except way way dirtier and crowded. I didn't bring my camera, so I took this from "West Bengal Tourism." This must be THE nicest spot on the street, after a thorough sweeping.

Point of the matter is that the street is a series of adjacent book shops. More like book shacks actually. Small places with thousands of books in disorganized stacks. The street goes on like that for as far as you can see. The boothes are numbered, and in the small section we searched, I found numbers going above 200. That means millions upon millions of books on this street alone. I've never considered being a teacher so seriously: I saw maybe 25 different arrangements of the guide to the teacher's entry exam. With all of that competition, I could have gotten the book for nothing. (that's not true. Bargaining is difficult when the salesmen are so much better at it than you). 

In a clearing, we found a public pool. Its used by the YMCA swimming club (spelled out on the sign, it was the first time I've ever seen or known what YMCA stands for), and a bunch of different clubs. It has a 20-30 foot high dive, painted starting blocks, and its much bigger than an olympic size pool. However, its outdoor, in the middle of the city, and right now the water is really low because its the dry season. When the monsoons come, the pool will fill up and people will be able to use it. Its full of garbage, stray dogs, stray people, probably some cows. Point of the matter: water in the city is obviously gross, and they are waiting on the rain to make their fantastic swimming pool operational. I thought it was kind of funny. 

There's a million stories like that everyday, but I forget them all. Everything here is just....wacky. I'll take more pictures.

Supplement to my previous post

This goes in the section from my last post about the track day at school. This picture gives light to that incredible moment, when Courtney and I shocked the world and showed these Indians how to really run with someone else while holding a magazine between you. (As you could probably guess...I don't win things very often.)

In hindsight, a week isn't a very long time at all....

Don’t get excited. Its only been a week. If these things come weekly, they are going to get tremendously boring. I save my daily recaps for people who don’t have a choice whether to listen or not. I’ll try to keep this brief and exciting.

After a relaxing weekend, we went to school for an orientation, while the other kids had school. No complaints. We watched an informational video about the school that I swear was sponsored by the History Channel. Way too professional. That day was a lot of paperwork.

The next day we skipped school to fill out more paperwork, this time, at the local police station. The benefit of the long and awful day is that I’m now legally living here and can freely leave in 3.5 months. The downside is that the restaurant on the way home got me sick. Although I knew it was coming, it didn’t make it any more fun. My roommate and I tag-teamed the bathroom all night, recording about 20 trips between the two of us.

Disclaimer: I didn't take this with the intention of putting on my blog. I just...had it available. Also, I photoshopped some seductive shadow over the chest, to maintain my own dignity, a PG rating, and protect those out there who don't want to see my nipples. 

I feel better now, but the bathroom doesn’t. Probably because it hasn’t been cleaned yet. Probably should clean that.

Disclaimer: May or may not be the actual toilet.

Wednesdays I don’t have class, and did very little, given its close proximity late Tuesday night, when I got sick.

Thursday I didn’t have class, because thankful, Indians observe every holiday that they’d like to. Take all of the obscure holidays you can think of (Columbus day, May day, and of course everyone’s favorite, Flag day) and then add a bunch and don’t let anyone work on any of them. That’s what its like. This particular holiday is the birthday of Swami Vivekananda (shows up in Word’s spell check), a famous Hindu monk, who helped create an awareness of the true essence of Hinduism (pictured below). Next week we have a day off for….something, and then the entire following week is off for……I don’t know. Something.

Don't make any jokes about his hat. We all have to hold back. 

On Saturday the school had a track meet. Nobody ever gets to play sports here, so the year’s track meet is a big deal. It began with every student marching with their department, an announcer and marching bands and people dressed up and…..a group of 15 white kids carrying a tiny size reading “visiting students.” This obvious shot to my masculinity was quickly negated when Courtney Kimball and I won a race, holding a magazine in between the two of us.

Disclaimer: this may or may not be the race I didn’t win, regardless of how loudly I yelled or fiercely I slapped Drew’s butt like a jockey slaps his horse.

There was a market in there as well, with like 8000 shops. I only saw a few.

If I had my camera with me, there would be interesting pictures, and things to say. As it is, I apologize if my life is not as exciting as you’d prefer. Yes I ride elephants like surf boards, play poker with Bengal Tigers, and have monkey butlers to do all of my laundry, but I can’t give you any more than that.

I did hear a kid in class say, “my elephant ate my homework.” That was pretty funny.

Look forward to posts about my school and what it takes to get to my school. But not if you didn’t enjoy this one, because they’ll all be pretty much the same.

Thank you. 

My "home" in Kolkata

 So I've arrived in Calcutta, and have moved into a host family's home, for the next four months. My host family, the Chakraborty's, are extremely welcoming and helpful. As awkward as it was to take pictures of them and their home so early in our relationship, I bit the bullet, took one for the team, got it done, took care of business, or whatever other masculine accomplishment phrase you prefer that I'd use. The home is one floor, with a kitchen, living room, three bedrooms, and some hallways. Its extremely nice; very well decorated and delicate. Sometimes I catch myself juking around like Adrian Peterson (as I often do), and then I have to stop myself, because there is a glass figurine of a Hindu God or Eiffel Tower around every corner.

As you can see, quite nice. The couch is where I spend much of my time, drinking tea constantly and trying to make awkward small talk. 

A couple of Ganeshs playing chess. How humorous.

"ummm...yes, ok, thank you."

This is my host mother Shyamali. She's very nice. A few seconds ago she came into my room and said, "dinner at 7:30, yes? You hungry? Yes?" and then lovingly ruffled my hair. She enjoys playing cards, and teaching children how to read.

"You are...taking picture of me? Heuh heuh heuh." (however you spell deep manly chuckling)

This is my host father Ranjit. He's the man. He has this deep manly voice and is always chuckling in the funniest way. I can't find someone to compare it to...so this isn't helpful. 

He was at work, so I took a picture of this. Its in the kitchen.

This is my host brother Antarin. He's 30-something and lives with us (not uncommon for Indian families). He's the best. Super cool, very funny, and always helpful. Reminds me of an older Indian version of my real brother Kevin. Very nice to have him around. 

".........."

This is my roommate Erik. He's currently napping, after a long day of riding in a car through terrible terrible streets. 

This is where I sleep. -Shadow for artistic significance*

I don't have pictures of Calcutta, just at some point I will. Its a labyrinth of alleys and markets and cars and things. There are zero street signs, and zero pattern to any of the roads. The city has sidewalks (first time seeing those in India) and is for the most part safe. I am extremely excited to get out there and start exploring. There's too much to see, even in four months. Although school is starting too, and as we all know, school is for dweebs.

If you feel so inclined to send me a greeting card (birthday, president's day, or otherwise), package (more clothes would be nice), or just a blank envelope, please send correspondence to:

Adam Kunkel

AD 57 - Sector 1 - Salt Lake City

Kolkata

700064

India

Thank you. Please tell me about your life sometime as well, so I don't feel so damn selfish. 

Jaipur and Agra

My first impression of these two cities was that their names are really cool. That was before we left. Since then, I have learned more about them, but I still like their names. Makes you feel like you’re much more immersed in Indian culture when you can say “oh yeah, we just spent a few nights in Jaipur and Agra.” Super badass. Not like we rode a huge orange bus (with “tourist” painted on the windshield) and stayed in fancy hotels…or anything…

The trip to Jaipur was something around 120 miles, and took over 6 hours (stopping time not included). I think I just looked out the window the whole time. The Indian countryside is fascinating, but in a terrible way. The city parts of a city that you would expect in a city are gone, so now it’s just dirty and poor. Shacks everywhere, lots of garbage, then a line of tiny autoparts shops, all selling the same thing. They reminded me of ghost towns, except people live there (human people, not ghosts. And it’s in India, not the old West). Fields of crops were often were kept within a barb-wired wall. It was very desolate, very depressing, and made me feel pretty awful riding in an air conditioned bus with a full belly, clean clothes (well…they weren’t clean, but you get my point. I didn’t bring very many clothes.), and an iPod to listen to.

Jaipur is much cleaner than Delhi. There were pockets of slums and dumps and things, but in general the streets were…reasonable, by Indian standards. Probably dirtier than New York City, but nicer than Delhi. Anyway, we’ve spent a few days here, mainly shopping. It’s a very commerce heavy city, so the salesmen are very good, and they’ll be in your face constantly. They’ll see you coming and get all excited and grab whatever they’re selling and shove it in front of you and start yelling at you in other languages, or very broken English.  Markets are fun, but the shopping in the mall was…extensive (yes mother, I got impatient and groaned a lot, even here in India.)

Coolest part was the elephant ride up to the Amber Fort.

Elephant rides are a lot of fun, very bumpy and very loud. The driver sits on the elephant’s head and just vigorously humps it and yells while it walks slowly up the road.

 (I can't insert a video today, but I think I will be able to later in the week. Check it later) 

On our final night in Jaipur we went to this cultural fair thing. It was like the renaissance fair, but for India. Lots of Indian dancing, Indian eating, and other Indian amusement. 60 cents got me a scalp/shoulder/arm/finger massage (super painful, don’t suggest it. He like…just punched me in the head a lot.) and a camel ride. 20 cents for a bottle of water. You get it, things are cheap here.

Then we spent one night in Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Its…so cool. A true masterpiece, and its just a tomb for the king’s wife. A very nice tombstone.

Now to Calcutta, where I will be for the next four months. Probably going to run out of things to blog about…..