Arrival in Kolkata

We arrived in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) after a fast-paced 2 days in Delhi, not knowing what to expect. While this is Jency's second trip to India, it's the first time to Kolkata for us both. The city has quite a reputation on all sorts of fronts. Politically, it's located in a communist state (West Bengal) of India. Socially, it's got some of the most squalid conditions in the country, as well as some of the most luxurious. Spiritually, you'll see sidewalk merchants performing rites of blessing over their merchandise at the beginning of the day, Westerners wandering the various temples and holy places in search of truth or enlightenment, as well as other foreigners who are here to represent their own religions. So we were a little curious to see what it would be like.

The hourlong taxi ride from the airport to our hostel was unforgettable. Kolkata is nothing like Delhi. First of all, the heat is unreal. Granted, we came during the hottest part of the year, but it must be 110 degrees in the shade. The roads are a crowded mass of cars, bicycles, rickshaws, buses, trucks, motorcycles, cows, dogs, pedestrians, and more, all jostling for position, getting in each other's way, and honking their horns incessantly.

The scenery along the road is overwhelming in its complexity and contrast. Street dwellers bathing under sidewalk water spouts. Hawkers calling, calling, calling for your attention. Decrepit colonial-era buildings plastered in advertisements, signs, and political murals, dripping with dust and smog, and slowly eroding from climate-related decay. The random business man with tie and briefcase wading his way among the miniature slums where people's homes consist of the garbage they were able to pile up and carve a hole into on the bank of a tepid pond. A flashy retail strip. Four people crammed into a sidewalk stall selling fruit, bottled drinks, and candy -- one minding the cash, another squatting beneath the table peeling fruit, one calling to passers-by, and the fourth sleeping in the corner, weary from the oppressive heat.

We walked into our hotel room, cranked up the A/C, and had a few moments of wide-eyed blinking. How on earth are we going to get around? None of the streets appear to be marked. What's our plan going to be when it comes to the beggars? Single mothers send their half-naked children to plead for spare change, a man with no arms lies prostrate on a tarp chanting alms, and an elderly polio sufferer rattles her empty plate - all within a block's walk. It's almost too much to process all at once.

We order some fried rice from the hotel kitchen, wash up, and eat. We ask God for wisdom and endurance. We go to bed under the blessed A/C.