Saturday’s intense rain forced us to delay our Kolkata trip one day, so this afternoon, Mimi and Manami came to pick me up just after lunch, in two bicycle rickshaws. I joined Manami, and off we went…very, very slowly. I remembered that the trip into Kolkata by car takes about an hour, and started to get a bit nervous. After a few minutes I turned to Manami and asked casually, “so he is going to pedal us all the way in to the city?” She looked at me for three seconds and burst out laughing. “Yes, Alexis, we’re starting our journey now, and by tomorrow night we will be there!” Turns out we were only taking the rickshaw to the main road, where we could catch an auto, which we typically ride, into the city.
Once we hit the outskirts of Kolkata, traffic really picked up and horns were blaring. My new surroundings reminded me a bit of Monrovia: slightly dingy buildings with lots of concrete and metal. However, as we got further in, the streets widened and many were tree-lined. Drivers bent to the rules, obeying traffic lights and rights of way. I saw a British influence in both the large rotaries with broad boulevards stemming from them, and the narrow, curving streets off of the main thoroughfares.
After a couple of auto rides and a quick cab trip, Manami and I were standing in front of Victoria Memorial Hall, a huge structure built by the British, surrounded by manicured gardens and a few shallow pools. Inside is a museum, and we strolled quickly through, enjoying the cool air and escape from the sun. After that, we took a carriage ride down a few wide, leafy boulevards, and then hopped into another cab to take us to a neighborhood with lots of street vendors. As soon as we got out of the cab, I knew it would be sensory overload. Sari fabric, long kurta tops, and scarves in a range of colors and patterns were everywhere. You could also buy your fill of cheap accessories, plastic containers, and underwear (staples in marketplaces the world over). This was my equivalent of a department store, so I couldn’t do much more than simply take it all in.
Following that, we found a modern grocery store where I picked up some of my personal staples here: peanut butter, jelly, and toilet paper. The food I’m prepared is really quite good, but occasionally I need a bit more, which is where the PB&J comes in. When I learned I wouldn’t be able to find TP in my village, I decided to spring for a few rolls.
Despite my excitement over the supermarket, the most exciting part of the night was one part of our ride home. Our second auto ride, before we’d catch our final auto back to Baruipur, was a 15-minute musical extravaganza. Our driver had installed a CD player and flashing, multi-colored lights inside his vehicle. Cruising through Kolkata’s streets with Indian music blaring transformed a chaotic, choppy ride into a coordinated dance party through ever-busy streets.
Once we hit the outskirts of Kolkata, traffic really picked up and horns were blaring. My new surroundings reminded me a bit of Monrovia: slightly dingy buildings with lots of concrete and metal. However, as we got further in, the streets widened and many were tree-lined. Drivers bent to the rules, obeying traffic lights and rights of way. I saw a British influence in both the large rotaries with broad boulevards stemming from them, and the narrow, curving streets off of the main thoroughfares.
After a couple of auto rides and a quick cab trip, Manami and I were standing in front of Victoria Memorial Hall, a huge structure built by the British, surrounded by manicured gardens and a few shallow pools. Inside is a museum, and we strolled quickly through, enjoying the cool air and escape from the sun. After that, we took a carriage ride down a few wide, leafy boulevards, and then hopped into another cab to take us to a neighborhood with lots of street vendors. As soon as we got out of the cab, I knew it would be sensory overload. Sari fabric, long kurta tops, and scarves in a range of colors and patterns were everywhere. You could also buy your fill of cheap accessories, plastic containers, and underwear (staples in marketplaces the world over). This was my equivalent of a department store, so I couldn’t do much more than simply take it all in.
Following that, we found a modern grocery store where I picked up some of my personal staples here: peanut butter, jelly, and toilet paper. The food I’m prepared is really quite good, but occasionally I need a bit more, which is where the PB&J comes in. When I learned I wouldn’t be able to find TP in my village, I decided to spring for a few rolls.
Despite my excitement over the supermarket, the most exciting part of the night was one part of our ride home. Our second auto ride, before we’d catch our final auto back to Baruipur, was a 15-minute musical extravaganza. Our driver had installed a CD player and flashing, multi-colored lights inside his vehicle. Cruising through Kolkata’s streets with Indian music blaring transformed a chaotic, choppy ride into a coordinated dance party through ever-busy streets.
1 comment:
Sounds amazing, Alexis! I'm also quite dependent on peanut butter. I went through half a container in 2.5 weeks! The food is great, but sometimes you just want some PB.
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