Kolkata (Calcutta)

At the train station, we followed the crowds out from the platform and got in line for the prepaid cabs, fending off the multitudes of cab drivers offering their "cheap" rides. 

After a little confusion describing where we needed to go, we got our prepaid slip and got in the cab. It was a little over an hour ride and he dropped us about 2.5 km away from where we needed to be. Our attempts to explain our intended destination to another cab driver failed and we decided to walk. It was pretty dusty and our walk was shared by numerous livestock on the way. 

Carlos, Bruno and Adama (the friends we were going to see) live in this self-contained housing complex that reminds me of those distopian future books, or the Google/Facebook/apple headquarters. 

We found our way to his building and signed in at the front desk. Some English letters just don't have equivalents in Hindi and after a couple failed attempts to correct the guard, I just nodded to whatever he put down. I'm Aoec Pernard from some made up address in India. *see slip below

Carlos works 1pm until 9pm because he coordinates some of his projects with clients in Argentina. He was able to show us where we could eat (we were starving) and his roommate, Bamé (who I also met in Thailand) joined us. 

After breakfast (of naan and curry). We went to catch the bus outside the complex. Catching busses involves shouting the place you want to go and the packed busses shouting an affirmative or negative back at you. We got on what felt like the 10th bus. It was about an hour and a half ride to Exide, the downtown area where we were heading. We got off and walked over to the Victoria memorial, which was beautiful and obviously was finished 20 years after the death of the person it was made for. 

The museum was a beautiful old English monument made of cool marble. We were too tired to fully appreciate the exhibits but some of the old paintings were nice. We sat on a balcony for a while and watched the crowd milling around below. 

Outside we walked through the grounds before sitting by a pond overlooking the memorial until around 5 when it closed.  We had wanted to see James Bond, so we walked another couple kilometers to an area that had some theatres. They were little hole-in-the-wall places that only had Bollywood movies at times that didn't work for us. We walked back to the bus area and waited for a while before giving up and catching a cab. 

We've had so many cab experiences since we got here so it's hard to remember which was which but I think this was the one who argued with us about the fare and drop off location, wouldn't let us out of the cab. Didn't stop where we told him to, and after we paid him started yelling that we gave him the wrong bill (we didn't).

Back at the apartment, we talked with Carlos' roommates for a while before going to sleep around 10. 

-AB

Crazy India

We will never understand

Explore the city

FHS

We left when Govinda said we would at "9, 9:30", at 10:45. Govinda and his bodyguard, Bisu, brought us to Puri to get a train ticket. Having 5 large men in this tiny car didn't even seem unusual or unconfortable until Connor mentioned how our shoulders were too broad for this. I've said it before, but it's amazing how your comfort level changes. The three hour bumpy ride felt normal squished between Connor and Bisu. We were planning to catch the 10:30pm train but we can't book online because we are foreigners. They also set a quota of two foreigner tickets per train, which seems unreasonably low. Either way, we got to the station and fought in what passed for a line for an hour before reserving our seats in AC sleeper class. 

We went to Govinda's house and ate lunch with Bikas and Bisu before going to rest in bed. After a while, I couldn't stand waiting the whole day (most of the reason I wanted to get out of Juanga) and announced that I was going to walk to the beach. Connor and I wandered through the streets and then spent a little under two hours walking up and down the beach. It was beautiful with some super dirty areas. After seeing the row of poop, left by fisherman along the shore, we left our shoes on.

On the way back, my hands got itchy and I said something to Connor. He said his looked swollen and after a while, I had to loosen my watch band. We had fat hands syndrome. Our hands looked like they belonged on obese people. While trying to decide what to make of this new development, Bikas and Bisu passed us in the car and we hopped in. They were going to see a friend in the city who works for the governement and we sat chatting with them all (just listening to the Odia) before heading back to the house. At govinda's, we watched midget wrestling on the TV for a few minutes before going to get dinner at the "sea-fish" restaurant owned by Govinda's friend. On the way there, Govinda told us about how he busted the mafia that controlled this area when he was younger and how now most of the hotels and restaurants are owned by his friends. I believe it. 

Govinda is an interesting character. He sings to us very often while we are eating breakfast about life and love and happiness. He also hasn't taken a vacation from Juanga in the last 20 years. When Connor travels through India in a month or so, he wants to go with him. Don't tell anyone, but on our ride up, Govinda drank two large Indian beers. The drinking scene here is beyond strange. 

At the restaurant, where we ordered the obligatory sea-fish, Connor and I had the only conversation. I'm still not sure if it's rude or not. 

We went to the train about 45 minutes early and found our car. We had reserved seats and Govinda and Bisu came to see us off. I don't think they've taken many trains and were not particularly helpful. After we found our seats, a hidjra was walking up and down the car collecting money. I'm not sure I spelled that correctly but I learned about this cultural phenomenon in one of my college classes. They are India's third gender, usually a man dressed as a woman who are believed to bring good luck and fertility blessings. They are often invited to, or show up uninvited at weddings. If they are not given enough money, they cause a scene and place a curse on the couple. They're something of a menace in India these days. 

When she got to us, Govinda stood up directly in front of Connor with his arms crossed and gave the tiniest head shake. It was super intimidating and she walked right by us foreigners. 

The train actually left within 10 minutes of its scheduled departure which as far as I can tell is an Indian miracle. 

In the train, no one cares that there are people trying to sleep. Super loud voices, turning on lights, Connor was sitting up writing for a while and someone came and just sat on his bed. The train was 9.5 hours long (scheduled to be 7 hours) but we probably got a least a couple hours sleep each. 

-AB

Rocking back and forth

Carry us through India 

One grand adventure 

The bathroom: yes, that is just a hole directly onto the tracks. 

Something crucial I forgot to mention.

Yesterday the power was out all day because a cow knocked over the power line. 

I was sitting in the Juanga hang out and I watched a how scratching it's horns on what passes for a power pole here. It knocked it over and the power died. Connor claims that he saw a villager pick up and brace the stick for the power line later that day. 

That's all. 

Juanga

We got back to Juanga around 1 I think two days ago now. If I don't keep up to date on the blog I forget things but here's the gist or peices I wrote in my notebook. 

I was welcomed back with warmth and enthusiasm from most of the members of the hospital and village. Biku was standoffish for a while but it's mostly because he's sick. Convincing him that my traveling wasn't to abandon him also helped. 

We went to the juanga hang out at the "bridge" and caught up with the villagers. I put bridge in quotations because there's a real bridge nearby and this one is more of a 8 foot long guardrail near where a pond used to be. Everything here is much taller and browner than when I left and the rice harvest has started. The patterns made by the work in the fields are beautiful to look at. 

The past couple of days, Connor and I have been biking out to the real bridge and talking while watching the sunset or enjoying the breeze by the river. It's amazing the things that start to seem normal. Getting away from India for a few weeks put fresh eyes on the strangeness. A herd of goats walked by in the bridge unaccompanied by an owner or Shepard and Connor said he wouldn't have thought anything of it if I hadn't said something. Kids often ride back and forth to get a better look at us without seeming blatantly obvious. 

I went to the school around 12 and talked to the teachers for a while. One in particular likes to talk with me whenever I come by and said that I was missed. I disrupted a few classes by making faces through the windows and then picked up Pride and Prejudice from the library to read. 

After school, I sat with Biku for a while seeing patients and then went to he bridge again (sorry this post is not completely chronological). When we were there, two teenagers came up to us and tried way too hard to get us to come to their village on the other side of the river. We had been warned many times by govinda and Biku not to cross the river because it was a "criminal area". It's also where one of the three sand people mafias are. I would have probably gone had the two people not been so pushy. Traveling for the past few weeks has made me wary of strangers who approach you asking for things. 

Riding back in the dark is a good way to get more protein in our diets. 

When I got back, I gave one of the little gold figurines I bought in Thailand to Baba-G in his shop. 

--this reminds me. Gifts are a big thing in Indian culture as far as I can tell, so I bought small gifts for many of the people here to show my appreciation for what they've done for me. I gave a small gold elephant to Chogolah in the kitchen and he has been carrying it around in his pocket and showing it off since then. I'm really glad to have been able to make him so happy. I think it's more that I thought to bring him something than the actual gift, but he also seems to really like the elephant. 

-about half of the gifts I brought were elephants but I'm worried about giving the other half. Some are images of deities and I'm not sure enough that it won't be offensive to give them. Doikebah. 

Anyway. When I got back, I went to give one of the sitting elephant-God figures to baba-G. He loved it and said a prayer with it before putting it into the small shrine corner in his hut. Then we sat and talked for about an hour, which was quite a feat with the language barrier. We each know only a few words in the other's language. I also think I accidentally tried Paan, the thing everyone adds to beetle and turns their teeth red. It was pretty terrible and I'm not interested in repeating the experience. 

I found out that baba-G is 58, has two sons 30 and 28 years old. He's married and lives that way. His leg had to be amputated 10 years ago after he was ran over by a bus. His hut was also painted by a western woman a couple years ago. He also tried teaching me Odia which involved repeating phrases after him and having no idea what most of them meant. It was a nice experience of cultural exchange and camaraderie. 

Now I'm waiting for the always-to-late dinner and catching up with this post. Connor and I are going to Kolkata tomorrow to see a little more of India and visit friends that I met in Thailand. 

Here are some of the things that I missed when I was gone:

Doctor Mohanti left/was fired by govinda after refusing to treat a sick teenager because his friends were drunk. 

There's a new sign for the medical center

A student everyone calls "the don" has been causing mischief. He shaved his head and likes to run around untying livestock and other shenanagins. Whenever something goes wrong, they blame the don. 

A student in class 8 died after fainting from typhoid and hitting his head. There's much more to talk about here and it feels careless to mention it in this list.. but this is all I'm going to write about it here. 

The fields and landscape look completely different now that it's time for the harvest. 

There was a holiday where the oldest in each generation gets gifts and clothing from all their siblings/relatives. In typical Indian fashion, there are no such holidays for the younger siblings. 

There are puppies everywhere. It's amazing. I want to keep at least 3 of them in my room. The ones by the hospital are named Bruce, Tilly, Julie, and   Whales. 

Well, there it is. 

-AB

Juanga has changed

Going to steal the puppies

Kolkata we go. 

Tiger goat game. It's surprisingly complex and we played for hours 

Connor can now read Odia and is often shown off to other people. It's often assumed that Biku has taught him but he's been self-learning (and asking for material from other staff) 

There are people running in this picture and I'm going to find out who they are and how to join them. 

Flights

"We don't trust Nepali police", the air India staff said in response to my question about why we had to undergo a second security screening. 

My flight was now 3 hours late and I had been in the freezing concrete warehouse that passes for an international airport for way too many hours. 

* It's been 9 hours since I left my hostel and said goodbye to Rishi. Both of my flights were delayed. I'm at the airport in Dehli now and it says the flight to Bhubaneswar is 45 minutes late but doikebah. I'm trying to find a way to contact Biku to tell him not to come to the airport so early. I've gotten most of he way through the last book on my kindle, A Fine Balance, which takes place in India and was recommended to me by the nurse who gave me typhoid and meningitis vaccines. 

I'm sitting down to eat, more out of boredom than hunger. I asked for, and revived two meals on my first flight. There's internet here but you can only access it by having a text sent to my phone.. Which isn't an option for me. I'm strongly considering taking out the Tigers and goats game to play by myself. 

While sitting here. I started thinking about the importance of time. We can never get it back or add to it. I don't want to waste it and was struggling to fill this time in the airport. I walked down the length of the terminal a few times. Danced to long-forgotten music on my phone while riding the moving sidewalks and did yoga in a forgotten corner of the airport when I decided I couldn't read anymore. I also spent some time flipping through the lonely planet guide to the USA that I found in the bookstore here. I'm glad that I've been able to see a bunch of the country but the book made me want to take another trip. Maybe to the south. Oh! I also spent about an hour trying my hand at songwriting. I haven't gotten very far but maybe one day you'll hear my work on the radio. 

After 9 hours at the airport, I left to Bhubaneswar in Tha last row of the plane next to a large smelly man who kept falling asleep on my shoulder. 

-AB

Every flight is late

Fathead drooling in shoulder 

Airline travel joy

A Dehli advertisement for "India's first unisex washing machine":

Yes, those are mountains peeking through the clouds

Remember, it's India.

It was almost like India was trying to make sure I did not forget how crazy it was. 

I met Biku, Connor and Bikas at the airport. Connor wanted to know all about my trip but Biku didn't seem to want to talk much. Instead of heading back to Juanga like I expected, we went to an ashram. 

They dropped off Biku and I and Connor and Bikas drove off in the car without explanation. At the ashram, I met the head holy man, who's son is friends with Biku. We talked for a while before lapsing into the customary Indian silence. Connor came back after a while and we learned about religion while drinking stringy, chunky milk that was still warm from the cow. 

After a while, we left to stay at Biku's cousins house and had a small dinner at midnight. No one ate with us. We went to sleep sharing a firm bed. 

I'm still a little sick and would've really loved going back to Juanga to take a shower and rest. It was definitely a metaphorical slap back to the reality of India. I'm determined to enjoy the experience. 

-AB

That man is the same one in the photos. 

Monkey temple

Today was a great day. I'm about to go take a freezing cold shower in my hostel before meeting Naba for a goodbye dinner at his friends restaurant. 

I ate breakfast with (well, before) Binna's family in the women's center and then instead of figuring out the local buses back to Kathmandu, his brother gave me a ride on the back of his bike. He works in Kathmandu near where I was planning to go so it worked out great. Binna gave me a windbreaker to borrow because it was freezing and I had already returned my rented jacket. It's now my third day without a shower and I smell fierce. Although surprisingly less so than I would be expected. 

On the ride in, we passed huge crowds of bikes at least a couple-hundred strong waiting for gas. The blockage from India has really caused problems for the people here. I got dropped off in a random section of Thamel and then found my way back to the hotel next to the hostel where I've been eating free breakfasts. I was happy to see Naba there in a meeting with some clients. He said to sit down and get some food/coffee while he finished up. I enjoyed the second breakfast as much as the first. The waiters know me now and we're sad to hear I was leaving tomorrow. They made me promise to eat there again before I left. 

Naba sat down with me and said to take my time and meet him back at the office when I was done. I wrote a little for the blog and then followed him. At the office, we talked about Citta's work at the women's center and Naba asked if I wanted Rishi to take me on a tour. I said not to bother him and that I'd find my way around before meeting him for dinner that night. 

It was about a 4km walk to the monkey temple on top of a hill overlooking the city and after fending off the frantic cab drivers, I wandered my way over. On the climb up the stairs to the temple, one of the stall-women selling singing bowls made me promise to come back when I was done at the temple. 

At the top, the views were spectacular and I sat for a while looking at the intricate gold carvings and watching the monkeys play on a pile of wooden boards. I talked to an artist for a while and left with one of his paintings of the Annapurna mountains, which was a challenge to fit in my overstuffed, undersized backpack. 

I spent a while learning to play a Nepali game called tigers and goats with a vendor who was trying to sell it to me. It's a fun game that I would've bought had he not told me such a ridiculous price for it. ($19). It's on hand carved stone and takes him days to make and other such nonsense. On the way back down from the temple, I bought the same game from another vendor for $6. Further down the steps, the woman with the singing bowls called me back over and I sat down, introducing myself and explaining happily that I was all out of money. After a while, she stopped trying to sell me on the bowls and talked to me like a real person. She has two kids in college now and we played a game of goats and tigers while the other vendors came over to watch. I don't think she's played before. (I won the first game, and then lost handily to one of the other vendors). Her daughter is studying IT and her son is in business school. After chatting for a while, she invited me to join them for tea and we walked down to a shop on the corner. Three of them were eating soup and ignored my refusal of the food, got an extra bowl to pour me some of theirs. They also paid for the chai. I'm almost used to the hot sugar-milk that passes for tea in this part of the world. After the snack, I said goodbye to Layla and started wandering back towards my hostel. 

School had just let out for the day and there were uniformed kids everywhere. Some of them stopped and started talking to me when I smiled at them. They started teaching me Nepali words (house, motorbike, tomorrow, soup). The random and rapid lesson left me confused and all of us laughing. 

On the way back, I wandered into another temple square which was beautiful and played hopscotch with some more kids. This is where I took the Connor-style photo (black and white, crooked, with birds) that I'll post below. 

Back at the hostel, a freezing (and much needed) shower woke me up before I went to meet Naba at his friend's restaurant, The Ship, for dinner. Naba wasn't there, but Rishi was. It took me a while to understand his quiet nature, but he has a warm heart and a nice laugh. We ate dinner and had some wine and dessert while waiting for Naba, who never showed up. Back at the hostel, I stayed up texting with my family for a while before going to sleep. 

When I first came to Nepal, people seemed harder and less friendly than  other places I've been. The more time I spend here, the more I realize the opposite. Everyone I've met has been wonderfully warm and kind and today was just that, all day. 

-AB 

Above them

A Golden temple,

Monkeys play.

It's Trump: