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.