.::Calcutta::. The Eagle has Landed

The airport looked like it was in the middle of a rain forest or jungle that someone took a giant lawn mower over a long time ago. The foliage was mostly unkept and jutting out in random directions and lengths, but, it must have been cut at some time, or there would not have been an airport there. In the middle of all of this were the runways. As soon as you hit the ground, you knew you were in India.

I arrived early in the morning as the city was waking up. It seems as though everyone else was waking up too, because they gave me the wrong cards in the airplane, so I went to immigration with the wrong cards, but, it didn't seem to matter. The guy interviewed me as I filled out my new card half heartedly asking me questions like what my name was, where I was from, and how long I would be there. After giving the standard answers, I started to ask about taxi fares and what not to ensure that I would not get ripped off too badly comming in the door.

I've come to accept that by being white in the "third world" your almost always going to get ripped off in a place where a substantial percentage of the people just see you as a fat white walking wallet, or an ATM as a Thai bar girl once put it, and the only interest is how much they can get, and how many times they can get it. I used to despise people for being so petty, but, then again, this is an ambiguous conflict that goes back long before the days of European Colonial Empire, and perhaps even before the days that Julius Caesar bled on the stones of Rome.

Having secured a meager portion of information, and armed with my trusty stick and paranoid planet guidebook, I was ready to get some cash, get a taxi, and get the hell out of there. It took eons to finish changing money. There were only 3 Muay Thai competition fighters in front of me changing 30-50 dollars each, but they could have served three times as many people in Bangkok in the time that it took this guy to get through them. Suddenly, I realized that Thailand was not as slow as I had once thought it was, and that there did exist a place slower and more taxing on one's patience. I quickly decided that I was going to have to calm down, and take things even more slowly then I had already adjusted to in Thailand.

I got into the Taxi outside of the airport, ready to go and confront the land where noxious gases come out of cracks in the ground, and the wretched bones of the living dead shamble towards you grasping at the air oblivious to all except their mad hallucinations. The land where naked buttocks stretch as far as the eye can see with excrement pouring freely from the orifices and hitting the road. As I got closer into town, I suddenly realized that they must have been talking about Deli and Calcutta was not quite that bad, but, it was shocking.

Parts of Calcutta look like it had been in one of the World Wars, and they started to repair it, and just said, "Fuck it." and decided to get to it later. The chaos was immense and unstoppable. The feeling in India is different. There is a powerful and energetic feeling. You can feel the struggles, and the passions in the air, or maybe it was the morning heat and humidity, but, there was definitely a feeling there that I have not felt in another place. Maybe it was my own feeling compensating for what was confronting my senses.

On the way in town, I can within small fractions of an inch of hitting several buses. The driver almost ran over so many people, I lost count. After a person came within microns of sure death, they would glare at the taxi as though someone had given them the finger. Yes, people in India were very tolerant, and also completely oblivious to anyone or anything that does not matter to them at the time. I suppose that one must be that way in India.

If one were to take interest in everything and empathize with it all, one would be drowning in a sea of empathy. One has to realize that the pain and suffering is occurring, but, one also has to realize that it is not happening to them. Once one is able to do this, one must never lose sight of one's intent. One can easily get sidetracked in India. With so many things happening around, and so many things of interest and wonder, one can only sit back and take it all in. To follow one thing would exclude the possibility of seeing others. Of course, one can only guess at what marvelous adventures one could have if one but followed one of the choices in one's heart when taking it all in.

The buses all sound like they are on life support. I half expected to see machines hooked up to the engines to keep the pistons running as one would expect to see a 100 year old man on the various machines that would keep him alive. It even sounded as though the bus would choke and die at any minute, as if each revolution of the engine could be its last. Thankfully, the flow of traffic changed, and the buses moved on. The sound was very dismal.

Everything and everyone in India demands recognition, acceptance, and contemplation. From the dying busses, to the haggard people jutting in and out of traffic, and everything else that one encounters. It all demands attention, and it all demands it at the same time. Sensory overload is definitely a danger here. Then, as soon as the taxi ride started, it was over. I had two guys I've never seen before yelling at my taxi driver to take me to my hotel, and not to make me walk. I was grateful for their assistance, and after all that the driver still had the balls to make puppy dog eyes and ask me for a tip. Heh. Well, gotta give them 5 rupees for the effort eh?

The word hotel could not be used to describe the place. It resembled one of the cheaper guesthouses in Thailand that one would pay 50-100 baht for, one of the really cheap one's that one can hardly find these days. Well, after dropping the bags, and resting for a minute, it was time to go outside into the maelstrom of horns, and explosions happening outside of my new residence. They love to use their horns in Calcutta and from 8 in the morning until 8 at night, there has been no relief from the menacing horns that seem to blast from all directions. There are at least 4 distinctly different horns blowing at any instant. I hope it calms down at late night.

As I came into the small street outside my hotel, the blaring of horns was interrupted by one of the men who had helped me earlier, and he was now letting me know that I could purchase several useful items from him including plants and resin. I thanked him for the useful information and said that I might meet him later, and then headed for the morning meal. The food was excellent. 2 pomegranate shakes, a salt lassi, a mango shake, tandoori chicken massala, garlic nan, 2 glasses of Indian Massla Tea cost me three bucks. I ate like a king!

Then it was time to go to the market and get ripped off. I wandered through the market with haggard and decrepit peoples saying things that seem to tear into your soul. One old woman with a dirty baby simply said, "I'm hungry." Though it hits you, if you give something to one person, swarms of them come, and if you work it out mathematically, you'll be out of money in about 10 minutes, so its better to do what little bit you can, and ignore the rest, and hope that others do the same thing. It make you feel a bit guilty, because your doing very little, but, there is very little that you can be expected to do anyway.

The bone crushing poverty and murky squalor of India definitely disillusion you about human beings, and the levels of survival that they are prepared to accept. Another illusion that is ripped away from you is just how close YOU personally are to this level of existence, and how easily a sleight of hand or a twist of fate could put you in that position. Even with the experiences I have, India has already ripped away some illusions that I refused to acknowledge, and I am sure it will rip away a lot more before it is done. This is an intense and amazing country with so many adventures waiting.

The genius plan was to get a guest house with a balcony and sit and smoke and watch people for three days. Well, not guest house with a balcony, but, I was able to get what I needed from a shady looking dude selling jewelry in the market, and I've got a nice view from the roof of the hotel. I need a few days to adjust before I can really experience and assimilate India. I don't want to go though, like a lot of people do when they first get here. Yukko commented that if she had not lived in Thailand this long, she would not want to stay here for even one day.