INDIA - a family affair

It took me less than 24 hours to fall in love with India. As I was being pushed and shoved off our first bus ride through the center city of Kolkata (formerly Calcutta), I turned to Laura and announced that I was seriously considering permanent residence. The bus ride was a test of balance and trying to control the flow of sweat down your face. We had to hop on the bus as it was steadily pulling away from the curb, because no bus ever actually fully stops. Like the buses in Peru, men hang out the doors of the bus and yell out destinations and routes and it is your job to hear your destination, and then take a semi-flying leap onto the moving vehicle. Our first bus ride was packed, and Laura almost fell over due to a lack of anything to hold on to as the bus lurched forward, but we made it to Northern Kolkata in one piece. It may have been this bus ride through the city that solidified my intense feelings for the country in such a short time. Call me crazy, but there is something magical about being here, and I am not the first visitor to India to pick up on the energy and vibrancy that this country and its people exude at every turn, no matter how bumpy and unstable that turn may be.
Only 5 days ago, in the wee hours of a beautiful Bangkok morning, Laura and I left our friend's house in Bangkok (thanks again Meg!) and went to the airport to catch our plane to India. Our last day in Thailand was well spent -- our last dinner was actually the SPICIEST curry I have ever eaten EVER, and though my lips were painfully tingling for the rest of the night, it was well worth it. I was also strangely exhausted on our last day, and I was thinking about a friend and fellow traveler who says that she always gets exhausted before big transitions in her trips. I think I was feeling the same way. I felt like a little girl who was soo excited to go to Disneyland the next day, that she stays up thinking about it all night, and the next morning is a tired mess and loses it while waiting in line for Space Mountain. That was me in the Bangkok airport. Over stimulated. But the flight was wonderful and a painless 2 hours and I was ready for whatever India has to bring as the descent was announced. Immediately, the plane's descent alerted me to a totally new atmosphere. Everywhere you go in India, there are tons of people. Makes NYC look a little deserted at times. In a break fron SE Asia, it is mostly the men running around on the streets because the women are expected to stay at home, and there are people filling every nook and cranny of every concieveable place. Hanging out windows, down alley ways, waiting on curbs, simply everywhere. This was plainly evident as we got closer to the runway and from the plane all you could see through the dusty orange haze was house upon house with numerous apartment buildings thrown in for good measure, all set about, to my eyes at least, in the most haphazard way possible.
Our first challenge was to get from the airport to the apartment of a friend living here in Kolkata - Elena. I called her cellphone and she tells me she just started a new job and could we wait at her in-laws house for a bit? Sure, no problem. New address in hand we deal with the taxi drivers who stampeded toward us the moment we showed our backpack adorned bodies out in the sunlight and thick blanket heat of the pick-up area. The drive to the address takes over an hour. I realized the best way to avoid gasping every time I thought we were going to be hit by a bus, or alternatively, hit a bus ourselves, was to close my eyes and try to practice some of the calming meditation that our monk friends in Thailand imparted to us. The combination of little kid pre-Disneyland like exhaustion and the thick heat was too strong for my Buddhist monk training and I fell asleep to be awoken by Laura when we arrived. At this point, I honestly had no idea what to expect. I certainly was not expecting was conversation and a luxurious lunch with Elena and her mother-in-law in their beautiful flat in center Kolkata, but that is what we got. Flo and I are actually the luckiest girls sometimes. After lunch, which was traditional Bengali food (minus the fish!), we were taken back to Elena'a apartment by a personal driver and spent the rest of the afternoon in a delicious food coma nap, a luxury we are not privy to on this trip. Elena mentions that she works for an NGO and has been involved with families who live in slums, and that she has arranged for an important medical operation to take place the following day on a little girl she met while in the streets one day. The girl had been terribly burned by a pot of boiling milk, and the scar tissue had caused her arms to fuse to the sides of her body. Elena knows some doctors in the city, and arranged for the girl to have surgery to free her arms virtually free of charge.
So the next day, Fox and I set off to explore the city while Elena went to the hospital. Laura and I walked around the city for hours, and spent many of those hours lost. After that first bus ride already described, we walked thorugh a market dedicated entirely to selling devotional flowers. People, again, were in every place possible. Men kept pushing by me with huge heavy packs balanced on their heads. Women were crouched by their orange and white and pink and yellow flowers, inviting customers in with smiles. As you may imagine, L and I do not necessarily blend into this scene so seamlessly, but we endure our first bout of stares and "HELLO!!!" shouts as we pass. After the market, we crossed the famous Howrah bridge on foot and went back to center city. There is a big park in central Kolkata, with a famous memorial built to honor Queen Victoria. The building gives a lot of insight to the colonial history of the city, and was very interesting to see. We spent most of the day in the streets surrounding the park, trying to find the memorial. In Kolkata, even very large, ornately decorated buildings built entirely out of white marble get lost among the crush of people.
That night, we were planning to cook Elena dinner but we were pleasantly surprised when an entire family arrived home with Elena. Turns out that the surgery went very well for the little girl, but she needed recovery time, and she risked the chance of infection if she returned to her own small home in a poor area of the city. That night, the little girl and her grandmother spent the night in Elena's living room. The grandmother alternated between sleeping on the floor, and sharing a small cot with her granddaughter. The poor little girl, understandably was not in the best of moods. She was tired and missed her family and her own home. The grandmother was also, understandably, uncomfortable on the floor, and there was talks of the little girl going home. But, this would put the girl at risk for infection, and Elena simply would not have it. So the next day she opened her house to the entire family. Mom and Dad plus 7 or 8 kids and whomever else wants to drop over. She moved her own big bed out to the living room where everyone slept together. We girls squeezed onto mattresses on the floor in a seperate room, and fell asleep listening to the universal sounds of the united family in the living room. This morning, Saturday morning, was spent cooking for the children, and watching movies on the laptop. As I type, there is a massive cleaning session happening -- babies, clothes, house, floors -- there are a bunch of naked little kiddies running around every room, and I cannot think of a more appropriate way to start our India adventure.
Elena has a friend from school also visiting her, named Amu, and she has been helping Elena take care of the little girl and her family. Amu and I were discussing the family this morning, and it occured to us how hard it is to take care of a family like this, knowing that there is only so much a person can do. Inevitably, the family is going to have to return to their own way of life, in their own home in the slums of Kolkata. It is easy to become a depressed cynic in a world like that, always feeling like the world is a dark place, and there is nothing a person can do to create lasting change. As we were talking I was reminded of the Senior Monk who came to the last day of the retreat that Laura and I went on in Chiang Mai, Thailand. A man in our meditation group asked the Senior Monk if he ever got depressed thinking that the world was worsening every day, and no matter how at peace with himself the monk was, no matter how many good deeds of charity the monk accomplished, there was no way to ultimately help all the people of the world. Basically the man was challenging the monk and his existence, and I held my breath waiting for the monk to react. The Senior Monk's honest response was surprising to me because it inherently admitted to defeat, admitted that some of what the man said was true. The Senior Monk responded by saying that, of course he had low moments sometimes, and of course there is only so much a person can do to help others, but what is important is staying optimistic and keeping hope alive for a better world. I think that is what Laura and I have been witnessing our first few days here in Kolkata. A few people doing their best to help those around them. In Elena's own words, "It is what I do," helping those around her. It is what we all should be doing, every day. It is what Laura and I are trying to do over the next few months we are in this very special place.
Tonight we leave Kolkata for Bodhgaya on an overnight train. After a few days exploring there, we head to Varanasi where if it works out, we plan to spend a long while volunteering and working with the community there. All is well and we miss everyone at home so so SO much.


Love, Jca

ps. for marcus, im still keeping count - me 221.5, world 14.5 - aka we win at life.