rezendi

I pondered a more original Subject: line this time around, but if ain't
baroque...

Calcutta, amazingly, was exactly how I imagined India to be before I
arrived. A huge sea of crumbling concrete blocks dotted by fading
mausoleums of the Raj. Long rows of street stlls selling
chapati-and-curry in banana-leaf plates, chai in disposable clay cups,
pyramids of sweets and fruits, cigarettes and drinks. Lots of beggars
but not the feeding-frenzy swarms that I'd feared. Dangerously lean men
pulling bored housewives around on India's last fleet of hand-drawn
rickshaws - I haven't seen a Westerner on one and don't expect to.
Buddhist monks videotaping their visit to the Victoria Monument. OK, so
I never imagined that last one.

Hammer-and-sickle signs spraypainted next to government slogans (to
their credit, the Russians did give Calcutta a very impressive metro
system, even if it's only one line.) Lean, feral dogs prowling the
overgrown ruins of cemeteries and abandoned temples. Giggling hordes of
schoolgirls in uniform pouring out of school. Men with bamboo clubs
driving back the overzealous crowds clustering to see the latest
Bollywood blockbuster. Goats and sheep patrolling the edge of the
cricket field on the maidan (sorta like Central Park). The smog is just
incredible, a poisonous grey-blue cloud that hangs over the city night
and day, visible to the naked eye from dawn to dusk. You can see why,
too, with snot-blackening soot billowing from every vehicle (along with
a constant refrain of deafening horn blasts.) Cracked concrete,
potholed roads, a thick dark gray patina on every exposed surface,
enormous clouds of bugs buzzing around every bright light after dusk
falls, filthy children huddling next to their equally-filthy parents on
the street, a general air of ruin and decay occasionally leavened by a
streak of smartly dressed middle-class types in the torrents of
humanity.

But it's got _character_. And lots of it.

Lots of backpackers too. Way more than I expected here. Mother
Theresa's Mission of Charity has over a hundred foreign volunteers
working for them at any given time, generally for a week or two each,
and they often have to turn people away.

I mailed a package home. It took me an hour and a half (see previously
comments on ruthless Indian efficiency.) I think the chance may be as
great as 50% that it will eventually arrive at its destination.

From Calcutta I took the Rajdhani Express, a screamingly fast
superdeluxe luxury train (while this is actually true by Indian
standards, the reader is advised to ladle a few dollops of irony on
those words) for an overnight trip back to New Delhi, where I alighted
and promptly decided that my opinion of Delhi has not changed: it's
still a hole. Rather than spend five days there waiting for my flyaway
date (ie today) I hopped on a train the next morning to Rishikesh. At
least that was the plan. Between sleeping in and bleary-eyed
misinterpretation of the platform signs, I missed my train, and had to
hang around for a few hours to wait for the next, so I didn't get into
Rishikesh until well after dark.

Rishikesh, where the Beatles met the Maharishi and wrote the White
Album long time ago when we were fab, is actually a pretty nice place.
The Ganga spills down between craggy hills here, and the river here is
blue and rippling as opposed to the dark bloated stagnant monstrosity
it becomes at Varanasi. Temples and ashrams line the riverside and the
streets, everything from tiny little alcoves to huge courtyard-
surrounding complexes to bizarre 13-story eyesores. It's fairly heavily
touristed, and the streets are lined with shops selling silkwear and
Internet access and rafting trips and New Age vedic philosophy books,
filled with longhaired backpackers who stay here for weeks at a time
taking meditation and yoga courses (not I - I'm staying away from yoga
until I find a "Yoga For People Approximately As Flexible As A Brick"
course, which wasn't on offer), but the overall effect is agreeable if
not authentically mystical, kind of an Ayurvedic Disney. The same
proportion of people here basically just want your money as in the rest
of India (about 1/2) but they're much more wild-eyed and spiritual
about it.

I supposed I've rambled enough for this instalment. In a few short
hours I fly off to Bangkok, where I plan to spend a month beach-bumming
around Thailand and Malaysia, maybe take a scuba diving course and have
a Singapore Sling at the Raffles. I dunno, I'm not sure I have the
inner strength required to ask that of the bartender. I'll keep you
posted...