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• You say Calcutta and I say Kolkata - India Part III

  Tuesday, Apr 14, 2009 9:50PM / Standard Entry / Members only
  28 comments

  We arrived at the Calcutta airport in the early evening and were met by our local guide.  After loading the vehicles with bags that had grown considerably heavier after shopping in Udaipur, we drove towards the center of town.  Central Calcutta (officially Kolkata) is about 45 minutes from the airport which was built well away from the city.  Along the way, I noticed the construction of new water towers every kilometer or so.  Although much of the land is empty, clearly the plan is for the city to expand towards the airport within the next few years.
  
  The next morning, we drove about 30 kilometers out of town to see the work of the Child in Need Institute (CINI).  Driving down small intercity roads, the traffic had never been more chaotic.  Still, the drivers maneuvered around trucks, cars, buses, bicycles, motorbikes, ox carts, push carts and tuk tuks as easily as I might pass traffic in the express lane on a major highway in the USA.  I never feared for my safety, but always wore a seat belt anyway. 
  
  
  Just another average day on the road out of Calcutta
  
  Again, our delegation was divided into small groups to have more personal time with the villagers we were about to visit to learn of their student education volunteers.  That's when trouble struck.  Our drivers were good, but they were not prepared for the narrow village roads that we encountered where ponds of water and rice fields edged the paths designed for oxcarts and motorbikes, not vans and trucks.  Our vehicle was met by a truck going the other direction and a 20 minute standoff finally ended with the truck backing up so we, and a line of oxcarts and motorbikes, could pass.  I noticed that the driver's knuckles were a bit white on the tightly gripped steering wheel.  He was not amused by the situation.  I was delighted.
  
  
  Young men in the village enjoying a game of...anyone know what this is, anyone?
  
  We gathered in a small community center already filled with young people from the village.  Once inside, those who could not sit on the floor, crowded at the windows and in the door, effectively cutting off the flow of air in the room.  For 30 minutes, the delegates asked questions of the youth volunteers, occasionally aided by a translator.  After explaining how the program works, answering our questions and offering us all a fresh coconut, I indicated that it was time for us to leave for our next meeting.  From the opposite side of the room, a murmur spread and the translator said they had a few questions for us - specifically, for me.  There was no beating around the bush, the young women in the group wanted to know if I was married.  When I answered yes, there was some audible disappointment.  And I blushed.  Or was I just flushed from the heat.
  
  
  Standing room only
  
  
  
  Me with a bevy of would be suitresses. 
  
  
  Village life is clearly different from that of the desert villages we visited in Rajesthan
  
  After loads of photos outside the center where it seemed half the village had gathered, we walked back to our vehicle and this time had an easy drive on the narrow lane.  We regrouped with the other delegates and drove to a CINI health clinic that works with prostitutes at a roadside red light district.  We were all a bit surprised to learn that many of the working women were married; some keeping the truth from their spouses while some husbands were aware of what their wives did for a living.
  
  
  Inside the CINI health clinic for sex workers
  
  
  This woman was very surprised that I wanted to photograph her
  
  Finally, we went to the CINI headquarters to meet with the director.  Along with the GCK project and the Shakti Stambh women's shelter in Jaipur, CINI was one of the programs that impressed me the most.  The scope of their activities and the manner in which the organization was managed by the director was inspiring.  Any time you get downhearted about the world and the state of things that regular news media covers, check out a few NGOs for inspiration.  Better yet, get involved.
  
  We finished our time with CINI by visiting their Nutritional Education Center where women are taught to provide inexpensive yet nutritious meals for their children with locally available ingredients.  We saw a number of malnourished children on the road to recovery - one who looked strikingly like D.Y. Sao.  Could he have an Indian cousin?
  
  
  Village women on the way to providing better nutrition for their babies thanks to CINI
  
  
  One of the young benefactors of CINI's nutrition education program
  
  The next day, those who had later flights, visited the flower market besides the Ganges River.  It is a stuffy, humid environment with a proprietary olfactory blend of floral aromas, sweating bodies and festering debris.  With narrow lanes and a constant flow of people carrying bundles of flowers and greens, it proved difficult to find a place to stand without being in the way.  Even more challenging for a group of out of place foreigners.  Still, no one seemed to mind all that much and some even posed for photos.
  
  
  With his purchase of roses in hand, so to speak, this shopper heads out of the market
  
  
  Wholesale florist
  
  Just a few steps away was the Ganges River where people bathed while others washed produce or even clothes.  Along the banks, some sought out shade beside buildings to avoid the afternoon sun and take a snooze.  These muddied sacred waters get heavily used.
  
  
  Laundry and bathers alike share the banks of the sacred Ganges River
  
  
  A family takes a break from the mid-day heat
  
  All in all, my 17 days in India had provided a fantastic glimpse into another huge country with a long and rich history full of religious and cultural diversity.  Since returning to China, I have learned that the delegates have successfully petitioned their organization in the USA, PPFA, to support two of the organizations we visited and, digging into their own pockets, the delegates personally provided financial support for a third.  For me, that means the trip was a success.
  
  
  Sign on the wall outside of Mother Teressa's resting place