Robindro Sadan, dance lessons, Thakur Bari, and train tickets!

I recently joined Couchsurfing.com, with the plan to meet more people here. On Monday I met up with my first CS friend, Tori. She showed me around Robindro Sadan, one of the artistic hubs of the city. First we walked through the information center, behind which there is a lake with a great view of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Walking around the side of the lake we came to a complex where several arts buildings are – two theatres, one for live performances and one for movies, a children’s theatre, and an art gallery. After looking around the art gallery, we walked down the street to the Cathedral. Finding it closed, we went and poked around the Birla Planetarium and then went to watch a fountain show in the park across the street. All of this was lovely (I think Rabindro Sadan is my second favorite place in Kolkata, after College Street), except for the fact that Tori doesn’t really speak Bangla! From the perspective of my language learning, it was a wasted evening.

On Thursday I had my first dance lesson. I am learning Classical Indian dance (or the Bengali variety, maybe) from a girl who has been learning since she was three years old. As in all first lessons, I was terrible; I hope that I improve quickly.

In our last class on Friday, we learned how to play a board game (it was a lot like Parcheesi). We were split into two teams, and Steve and I won. Afterward we visited Thakur Bari, or the Tagore home. It is now a museum dedicated to Rabindranath especially, although his father and other important family members are also highlighted. The house is huge, but must have been very nice when people were actually living in it. Two rooms made a big impression on me: first, the room where Rabindranath died, which is a beautiful room, with an inlaid marble floor and flowers in front of a picture of him; and second, the Tagore birthing room. This is a small room where women were taken when they went into labor, and then where they were kept for 21 days afterward (according to my teacher). What struck me about this room is that it was tiny – the size of a small walk-in closet.   I asked why the woman was kept in such a tiny room for so long, and my teacher said that the mortality rate was so high that they wanted to keep them away from the rest of the family.

On Saturday I spent 12 hours running around Kolkata. My first stop was the Foreign Tourists’ Board, where I was going to buy train tickets so I can go out of town for the few days after Puja. My plan was to try for Puri; if that wasn’t available, Benaras; if that wasn’t available, Bodh Gaya. Luckily, I got the ticket to Puri, and there were no problems getting it, except for the fact that I had to wait for three hours before I got to the counter. Afterward, I met up with another friend from Couchsurfing, Prithvi, who showed me around the area. I had walked to the Tourists’ board from the Central metro stop, so I on had gotten a pretty good idea of the layout of BBD Bagh (the West Bengal government district). Prithvi first took me to get some organic ice cream which, to my surprise, was sold out of a terracotta pot full of ice on the street behind the Writers’ Building (where the government offices are located). Saffron ice cream is surprisingly delicious. Afterward, we took a bus to the Marble Palace, an old mansion filled with really expensive European works of art (and inlaid marble floors throughout). For lunch, he took me to a street vendor that sells Pau bheja, a street food I had never seen before. It is vegetables (including tomatoes, bell peppers, and green onions) mixed with spices and cooked into a sauce, served with some hot buttered bread. In India, street food is generally served in organic, disposable containers, like leaves or terracotta cups. The Pau bheja was served in plates made out of leaves stitched together and pressed into shape. The tea that we had next (at a stand across the street) was served in terracotta cups. Saying goodbye to Prithvi, I went to the Indian museum. The museum houses a large collection of archaeological discoveries, especially from the Buddhist period, and some paintings by Abanindranath and Rabindranath Tagore and Nandalal Bose. One of the things that annoy me, however, is that in India you have to check your bag pretty much everywhere you go. This is true for museums and stores. I hate having to leave my bag outside, and having to carry my important things (like my wallet) in my hand the entire time. After leaving the Indian Museum, I went to Rabindro Sadan and shopped around in a book fair. I don’t understand why, when people ask me if I can read Bengali, they do that in English. If I have been standing in your shop for fifteen minutes looking at the Bengali titles, I think it’s pretty obvious; also, if I can read Bengali why would I not be able to speak it? Finally, at six PM I went to a folk music performance that was held in the Rabindro Sadan theater. It was very good, although it mostly focused on drum performances. There’s only so long I can enjoy drumming before it starts to get boring. There was, however, a very good dotara player as well as some interesting percussion instruments (a large terracotta jug), something that may have been a didgeridoo, and one song performed by a guy making noises with his mouth (as in, hitting his cheeks to make percussion noises).

Kumartuli

Friday was a long but very good day. It started with receiving an email from AIIS saying that they have officially received their grant, so my fellowship does, in fact, include funding! Yay!

In class, we had our second monolingual guest: a puppeteer and ventriloquist. He was really fun to talk to, and definitely an entertainer. He had brought four of his puppets, and gave us a demonstration. Besides performing for entertainment, he also creates skits that deliver public service announcements like “don’t get married until you’re 18,” which he then presents in villages.

After lunch, we went on a trip to Kumartuli, a “potter’s colony” in North Kolkata. This is where they make the clay images of Durga that are used in Durga Puja. Because we visited nearly a month before the Puja, we were able to see all of the stages of creating the sculptures. It starts with a model made out of straw, which is covered with layers of clay and cloth (kind of like paper-mache). When the image is fully constructed, it is painted and then dressed.

After leaving the potters’ area and walking for a few minutes, we came to the banks of the Ganges. Boats docked nearby are used to transport clay for use by the potters. As we were looking at the river, we saw a school of river dolphins that surfaced occasionally. After drinking tea out of small pottery glasses in a cha stand by the river, we walked back to the car a different direction. We stopped once more, to taste the famous street food of this one intersection (I’ve forgotten the name of it!). It was my first time at a very small food establishment in India, where they serve the 7.5-rupee meal on a piece of palm leaf. 

And now... pictures!

A Kite Story

What is the perfect toy to have if you live on a roof? Answer: a kite! If you’ve been following this blog, you know that I’ve wanted a kite since the first day I got to Kolkata. This week I learned the word (ghuri), bought one, and flew one.

Monday was Viswakarma Puja, a holiday that is mainly celebrated by the working classes. It also is the day of a kite festival, and about a month before Durga Puja, so it starts the festive season. I asked my teachers where I could find a kite workshop (where they are made), because I like to buy things in the place that’s known for them so I can see how they’re constructed and talk to the people there. He said that there was a place in North Kolkata named Furiya Pukur where there may be a workshop. I took the metro to North Kolkata, then asked directions to find Furiya Pukur. It ended up being a small side street off of a sidewalk-bazaar lined road.

(Side story: One of the people I asked about directions was really funny. He was one of the vendors in the bazaar, I think selling juice and that sort of thing. He looked at me stunned as I asked for directions in Bengali. In English, he said, “You speak Bangla? Congratulations!” grabbed my hand, and shook it a few times. Then he gave me directions in English.)

Furiya Pukur is an alley lined with old buildings and two or three kite shops. Because it was the day of the kite festival, there were large crowds around each of the shops. I didn’t find any open workshops, but I did buy three kites, string, and a large wooden spool. Then carried all of it home on the subway, and miraculously none of the kites were smashed and destroyed.

My first day flying a kite here ended in failure, because I strung it the wrong way (I know, I know. Kite 101. But it’s different than the other ones I’ve ever strung). On Wednesday my teachers gave me another kite, a larger one with a tail, that was already strung.  I took it home and flew it. It caught the wind really quickly and I managed to fly it really high. After about 40 minutes, I decided to start bringing it back in. As I was doing this, some kids across the street, who had come out to fly kites a little bit before, got their kite near my string. The kite came up, the string of my kite, and away flew my nice big kite.

Moral of the story: Make sure you know how to fight kites before you fly a kite in a place where they’re fighting them.

First Two Weeks in Kolkata

What have I done in the first two weeks in Kolkata? Browsed the largest used book market in Asia, visited the India coffee house, gossiped with shopkeepers, explored the old European cemetery, studied Bengali, and made friends with a Brahman while giving a puja at Kalighat temple.

I can tell that this language program is going to be excellent. It’s very small, with only four students, so we each get individual attention. Besides me, there is one other student (Bennett, who has been in my class in Dhaka for the last two summers) who is studying for a year; the other two are one semester students.

I’m starting to know my way around now. On Thursday and Sunday the first week I was here, I did some comparison shopping to get a feel for prices. It’s a bit disorienting to know what the price for something should be in taka, but not in rupees – especially when rupees are called taka in Bengali (it’s the word for money). Luckily, in my neighborhood there is a variety of stores from sidewalk bazaar stands to high-end boutiques. I have yet to buy any clothes here, but I have a better idea of what the prices should be. Also, I discovered that most stores are closed on Sundays.

On Wednesday, I wanted to go shopping and see more places in my neighborhood. One of the other students, who has lived here for 10 years, showed me around. We first stopped by Gariahat market, an indoor bazaar that is very near to the institute. It has a very large selection of produce, fish, and meat. From there, I walked south, passing a branch of the Ramakrishna Mission on the way, and went to Dokkinapur, a shopping complex specializing in handicrafts from all over India. Most of the Indian states’ governments have shops there to sell their products. Although I wasn’t ready to buy anything, I still had some good conversations with shopkeepers. In one store, there was a group of workers who were about my age with whom I was able to have a good conversation. To get back to my house, I walked through this large park surrounding a lake that is just south of where I live. It is a really gorgeous location.

Speaking of gorgeous locations, on Friday we took a short class trip to visit Park Street Cemetery, the old imperialist British cemetery. It is filled with gigantic, moss-covered stone monuments and ancient trees. It reminded me of pictures that I have seen of Ankor Wat.  

Saturday morning I walked to the Kalighat temple. There, I was pulled into the tourist racket to some extent – given a basket with offerings and sent inside with a Brahmin guide to give a puja. They were surprised when I didn’t have any money on me (I honestly had just come to look around outside, and only had 50 rupees with me), but didn’t press me too much on the matter. I enjoyed talking to my guide, who was happy that I could speak Bengali and offered to take me on a tour of the other major temples in the city if I wanted. The inside of the temple was crowded; I had the misfortune of randomly wandering into that area on a special feast day. My guide took me around the back way, where I could give my offerings and see the image but not have to stand in line for hours. After the main puja, he took me to another shrine on the side, where women could give offerings to pray for a good marriage, children, etc. After coming out of the temple, I retrieved my shoes and walked around the block. Immediately next to the temple is Mother Teresa’s Hospital for the Dying, a big white building that has a crucifix affixed to the roof. In some of the stalls selling devotional materials in front of the temple, there was a mix of Hindu and Catholic religious icons.

Walking back toward my house, I found a Greek Orthodox church (I think it is the nearest church to where I live), and then walked south through Lake Market. Lake Market is both sides of a road where flower and produce sellers spread out their wares. It goes on for a little more than a block, and has a large selection.

First Impressions of India

As most of my readers will know, Bangladesh was, until last night at 9 PM, the first and only foreign country I had visited. So India is a new experience for me, not only because it is a different country, but also because it was the first time I have travelled alone outside the US. (The last two trips were made with the rest of the CLS group.)

First, the airport in Delhi is really, amazingly, super fancy. As in, there is a mall inside the airport that puts Easton to shame. Who wants to shop for crystal necklaces or state-of-the art children’s toys while they’re waiting for their next flight? Apparently some people do, and for those people there is the Delhi airport.

Second, always you make sure you have all the paperwork you could ever possibly need (and then some) when doing anything at the Delhi airport. I had to show a guy at the door my print-out from Expedia just to get into the building this morning, and then the woman at the airline counter almost didn’t accept the same paper as proof of my ticket.

Kolkata, after a short drive from the airport on a Sunday, seems to have a lot less traffic than Dhaka. A LOT less. I’m living in an area of the city named Ballygunge, which is an older area. I am writing this sitting on the roof of my host family’s house. Why the roof, you may ask? Because that’s where I live! My apartment is a little guest house on the roof of the building. I love it. The view is amazing. I am currently sitting here watching the sun set as people fly kites from their rooftops all around me. I want a kite. From what I can see of the surrounding area, this part of Kolkata is kind of like Old Dhaka – the nice part, with the old buildings and nice houses – but with normal-sized streets, instead of the rickshaw paths they call roads in Old Dhaka. The intersection in front of the house is at odd angles. Between the wedge-shaped buildings, the wide streets (with curbs!), and the large trees, the view on that direction is reminiscent of pictures of some Eastern European city (or, maybe, my mind is partially in the Czech Republic with Marissa). My host family is lovely, as well. They were surprised to find out I was so young – they’ve housed a lot of other foreigners, not just for AIIS – and my host mom called me a baby. Of course, she said that before I told her how old I was! Then she said that I really was a baby.

(The next morning)

I still don’t have internet, I’ve already unpacked, and I’m waiting to go to the orientation session at the institute, so I want to add a few more things to this entry. One of the things I like about Kolkata is that there are taxis – specifically, yellow-painted, 1940s-style cars like the ones you see in old movies. I mentioned that the streets in front of my house look vaguely Eastern European, and that effect is only compounded by the taxis. This morning I saw two taxis sitting in that street, and to look at it you would think you were in an old movie from the 1940s, set somewhere in Europe.

One of the problems that I did not expect to encounter is that my host family has access to too good of a water supply for me to drink. They get their drinking water from their own deep well, which is clean and doesn’t need to be boiled. I may be able to drink this water, but I’m not sure, so I chose not to drink any yesterday. Maybe after a while I will try some, but I’ve had too much experience with waterborne illnesses recently to attempt it immediately. In my house there is a UV-treating water purifier and a pot to boil water in, and I used both last night. So if I get sick, it must be from one of those sources. I remembered this morning (too late!) that I have iodine tablets that I could have used.  Oh well. I had to find out at some point whether the water from the filter was safe to drink.

I’m having some trouble making myself understood, partially because I haven’t used Bangla for a month, partially because I speak Bangladeshi Bangla. I’ve already been corrected for calling breakfast “nasta.” The hardest is the word for water, which is jol, not to be confused with jhal, jhor, jal, etc. I think I’m not pronouncing it correctly. Also, my host family referred to Sprite with the same word, so maybe it just means drinks here? I’m also still getting used to my host family’s accents, which will probably take a few weeks, even though Kolkata Bangla is closer to Standard.