Among Oxymorons

Wednesday, September 15

    Dang, things are happening faster than I can blog!  So things that used to be strange are very normal to me now… example: men peeing on the side of the road, women sitting side saddle on motorcycles, men literally washing themselves by faucets on the streets.  Today on the way to school it took me a minute to notice the craziness (by American standard) to see a man driving a motorcycle, a woman holding on behind him with one arm…and laughing baby (like 8 months maybe) in the other arm.  All without helmets…weaving in and out of cars.  This is so normal here…the baby pointed at me so I waved.
    On Sunday at 9:30 am, Colleen, Jenna, Kyle, and I all ventured out in Kolkata… about to embark on quite a journey.  We start at the Victoria Memorial.  Now I wish I could tell you that this important "tourist-must-see" monument was breathtaking, regal, such an exquisite Indian home for Queen Victoria.  Megan Sargent could tell you that as soon as you start talkin' British history, ya kinda lose me and I start thinking about fairies, cute ethnic children, or food.  So I took some pictures of the big ole white building and felt honored to be there…then we left.  The lion statues at the gate were cool looking.

    Ok so we walk for a while thru some hoppin bus station where you choke on exhaust and people yell from the decked out colorful buses, "insert name of destination here!" to get you to get on.  This is EXACTLY what the bus stations are like in Nicaragua…just to comment.  So we enter into the crazy busy part of Kolkata.  We walk on the main roads where there are vendors selling anything and everything.  You have to duck when walking to avoid getting smacked in the face with the dangling pants by each jeans vendor.  The honking floods the streets of people, automobiles, etc etc,…people stare…this is Kolkata.  Anyways, we mosey off the beaten path to the, um, well, shadier roads where you are reminded of the developing country aspect of India.  People are sleeping on the sidewalks and on steps, clad in rags and look sickly thin.  Looking down the alleyways you see children running barefoot through the puddles, mothers washing clothes on the street, with the drying articles decorating the above spaces between buildings.  Just like any third world country, everywhere you look seems like an oxymoron--there are these huge, extravagant government buildings (we saw the British Insurance building, the Bengal state governor's home which looks like the white house, and some banks and important buildings that I couldn't take pictures of because the Kolkata police guys shook their fingers at me and my camera)……. then at the foot of these buildings are the sleeping people, children sifting thru trash, and people bathing on the street by communal spigots.
    ***See my next post for our next encounter on our way to the flower market.  It deserves its own post.
    So while wandering about, a jovial and very willing to help us Indian man decided he would be our tour guide for the day.  Why the heck not, he was full of info and took us to places that we would have never seen had we just wandered on our own.  He took us to the flower market (which we learned later is the largest flower market in Asia!).  OMG, yes OMG, talk about sensory overload!  Walking through the entrance the dirt road is flooded with smells of flowers, plants, spices, then sewer, body, mud…the air is thick and humid, hot and churning with shouts of vendors, squeaking wheels, hustles and bustles of people, pattering feet, rustling leaves and petals.  Open your eyes and oh my gosh the colors, red, orange, and yellow inundate the roadsides.  Greens fill giant sacks and vending tents as people gather stems and leaves with petals of blue, purple, and pink.  Strings of flowers pour over tables and walls.  You walk further down the road until you reach an entrance to the REAL market.  WAFTTTTTTTTT! The smells, sounds, sights magnify and explode all around!  The path is flooded with water and sludge and you slip through the tiny pathways while giant baskets of flowers pass by you atop the head of the person walking beneath you.  It shadowed by tarps draped across the bamboo structures but beams of light burst through the cracks, blinding you, and leaving tiny colorful dots dancing in front of your eyes.  Blurs of orange, red, and yellow swirl around.  Bouquets here, headdresses there, necklaces, baskets, tables…its all flowers! Shouting, staring, sweating, stepping and slipping among the biggest sensory overload I've ever experienced.

    We come to an opening in the back of the market to see the Howrah Bridge.  Its massive and an intimidation structure if you ask me.  I took lots of pictures, some of the bridge, but mainly of the crowds collected below at the river.  They are washing, bathing, playing, talking, standing…basically anything you'd picture people doing at a river, was happening.  There were adorable kids running around.  Ah! so cute. Got some good pictures.  Speaking of which, apparently it is strictly forbidden to take pictures of the bridge; however, our random tour guy took us to the back of the market and said "take picture! this Howrah Bridge! very beautiful."  So that was that.
    So basically we walked for about four hours straight…in midday India heat.  I think I might have started hallucinating at one point. PHEW!  We proceeded to walk some more towards New Market, got some lunch (which my stomach did not appreciate) and I haggled the dickens out of some shirts and gifts for peeps :-)  Definitely a jam packed day!