Week Two

I had a very busy second week in Kolkata.

I started volunteering with an NGO that works with slum and squatter communities in Kolkata (and a little outside of Kolkata) called Tiljala SHED (Society for Human and Educational Development). The first time I went to visit them, I didn't have much time, so I just went to the head office to meet everyone, and then I left. The office is a short auto ride away from AIIS. The next time I went, I helped edit the English in their 2011 Annual Report. Three other people work in the room where I generally sit when I go there. Shafkat, the son of the Joint Secretary, who speaks English really well and loves to talk (though I think I've convinced him to speak in Bangla most of the time, and to put up with my plodding speech in the language). He's in his mid-twenties, the person in the organization closest to my age. Then there are two women, both in their late twenties. One of them is the main coordinator for a sponsorship program for girls. She was actually a beneficiary of the program, which supported her all the way through college, and now she's running it. The other woman is her assistant. All three of them are very nice.

I went with T-SHED on Sunday to a village where they're building a program center. The village is called Paglahat, which literally means crazy (person) market. Lol I wonder who named it... Anyways, they were providing free health examinations and medicine to the villagers. I had the all-important job of writing the name, age, weight, etc of everyone who came on a card for them to give to the doctor, as well as in a notebook for T-SHED's records. If I hadn't been there, Shafkat would have been the one writing names. Instead he just sat next to me to help me spell the more obscure-sounding ones. Anyways, it was cool to see what they're doing out there.

On the way to Paglahat, we passed by the Kolkata Leather Corporation. Apparently it used to be in the city, but they moved it outside because it was causing too much pollution. Better to pollute the villages, right? Anyways, it was one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen. There were enormous piles of blue-green leather scraps all along the road. The chemicals the leather is treated with are highly toxic, yet there it was, literally tons and and tons of toxic waste, just sitting by the side of the road. The air reeked of chemicals.

Today after school I went to the TSHED office and then Aftab, whom everyone affectionately calls Mama (which means maternal uncle in Bengali), took me to the TSHED school in Park Circus. Park Circus, Mama told me, is the largest slum in Kolkata. I had never been in it before, only seen it when passing through the Park Circus Station by train. The inside was a maze. I'm sure I couldn't find the school again if I tried. It is tucked back deep in the slum. I'm told about 50 boys attend regularly, though there were only about 10 boys there when I went. The school is just for boys. TSHED runs a library in the slum which is just for girls, but because they had to choose whether to allow boys or girls in the school (I'm not sure why it had to be either/or), they chose boys because many girls cannot come because it is risky. The security in the slum is not so good. Many of the boys come after their classes at public school. It is not only a school, but a safe house where the boys can eat, play, sleep, wash, and get health check-ups. The informal classes are only a fraction of the attraction of the school. I had a good time playing and talking with the boys. We did lots of hand-clap games and they sang songs. They were very similar to the children CRAWL (the NGO I worked for a few years back) works with at Sealdah, another train station in Kolkata.

One boy had the skinniest arms I have ever seen on a child of that size. He told me he's six years old, which is about right for his height, but his arms are as small around as an infant's. Despite that, he came into the room with his arms cocked, showing off his (invisible) muscles. I exclaimed how strong he looked. Actually, he looks like if the wind blows too hard he might float away.

Anyways, I'm glad I'm getting to see the work that TSHED is doing, even though I haven't quite figured out how I will be helping them. I may begin teaching at that school or one of the other two that they run. We'll see.

Aside from working with TSHED, I was busy catching up with all my friends last week. One day I went back to my host house from last year to see everyone. Another day I met up with a friend and brought her to where I'm staying so I could give her a book she'd asked me to bring for her. Earlier on that day, I had gone with my class to College Street. College Street and the surrounding area is a whole maze of book shops. It's a really cool part of the city. I bought two books of Bengali short stories so I can practice reading on my own.

On Saturday I went back to Khardah for the first time since I've been here. It was wonderful to see everyone again. Seeing all my old students reminds me why I love coming to this country and why I'm taking the time to learn Bengali.

One of my students, a fifteen year old girl, ran off and got married without her parents' permission a few months ago. I saw her as I was leaving Khardah. She seems to be doing pretty well, so that was a relief. I told her it's illegal for girls to marry before they're 18 (before 21 for boys), and her response was "everybody does it." It's true that many people still do. I'm well aware of this fact. I just don't like it when it's someone I care about as much as her. Anyways, I was happy I got to see her at all.

~m

Borsha Kaal Eshe Gaelo

The monsoon has arrived! Though the rains started when we got to Kolkata on Tuesday, and came for a few hours every day, it wasn’t until Friday that we realized how forcefully the monsoon was upon us. Friday brought the heaviest rains Kolkata had seen in a decade. More than 15 centimeters fell in 24 hours, and the rain was constant for about a day and half. Some of you may have seen my blog last year about the flooded streets near my school last year. Well this was even worse. Luckily I didn’t have to walk through it to get to school, as AIIS sends a car to pick me and two of the other students up each morning, because I live so far and because they’re on the way from my place to the school. When we arrived, the streets were not yet flooded. But by the time class was over that day, the streets had turned into rivers. I went crazy taking pictures of it, so I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

Arrival in Kolkata and My New Host Family

We were greeted in Kolkata by the first coming of the monsoon rains. It had not rained in the days, weeks, and even months leading up to our arrival, so it was very hot and dry (India’s summer season is mid-April to mid-June). But literally as we were walking from the airport to the car, it started to rain. I found it to be a perfect welcoming gift, because it means a breaking of the heat of the summer months. Everything was washed clean of its dust and grime, and Kolkata shone as we drove into the city. The colors somehow seemed brighter, the attitude softer and the city gentler than in Delhi. But maybe that was just because of my pre-existing affection for Kolkata.

We were taken to AIIS in Kolkata, and later our hosts/land ladies (the other three CLS students are staying in apartments rather than with host families) came to pick us up. I had asked to stay with my previous host family, but Protima Di, the head teacher at AIIS, had told me that was not possible. I originially thought that she was putting me with a family who is new to the organization, so I was going to guinea pig them in, so to speak. That, however, was not the case. CLS has a rule that each CLS student should have his or her own host family, so because the Mukharjees (my hosts from last year) have multiple rooms, Protimadi put two AIIS students who are not on CLS in that house. At first I was disappointed, but Protima Di, because she knows me so well from last summer, was able to choose a great host for me. Chitra Di is a really strong woman who exudes confidence and has an easy, genuine smile. I liked her immediately. She came to pick me up in her own car, which she drives herself. An older woman who can (or chooses to) drive is a rare sight in Kolkata. In fact, she is the first woman driver I’ve ever seen here. One time a saw a girl about my age learning to drive a car, and I’ve seen young women driving scooters and mo-peds, but never an older woman, and never her own car. So I was impressed from the moment we left AIIS. As some of you may know, traffic in India is absolutely hectic. But Chitra Di held her own and didn’t back down to men driving much larger vehicles. After one particularly bold move, the small, sari-clad woman, beeping and honking with the best of the them, turned me and said, “you have to fight.”

Chitra Di lives alone in a flat in New Alipur, in South Kolkata. She has one daughter, who is living and working in Delhi. Her flat is actually pretty far from my school, and from the metro, which is my only complaint about the arrangement, and, in my mind, totally worth it. She has one maid, Brihoshpoti Di, who lives in the servants’ quarters downstairs (who knew that modern apartment buildings have “kajer lok-er ghor” built into them?). Chitra Di’s apartment is small: two bedrooms, one large living/dining room, and a kitchen. Especially compared to the entire four-story building owned by the host family I stayed with last year, the new place is small. But I actually prefer it. Last year there were so many people who I didn’t know, and so many rooms I had never seen where I was staying. This year, there are just two other people, both women, and every room in the apartment can be seen from the middle hallway. There is a coziness to it that wasn’t at my previous place.

While it was weeks before I even found out where the kitchen was in my last house, here I am allowed, and even expected to carry my dishes to the sink after dinner. I know this sounds silly, but such a small task actually feels empowering in a culture where the guest is usually not to lift a finger. Though I still doubt I will ever be allowed to so much as make myself a cup of tea.

Chitra Di is a designer for a fair-trade NGO that exports handicrafts to Europe and other parts of Asia. As far as I can tell, she decides how a shirt, or a piece of furniture or a textile should look, and then the artists make it. Anyways, she is socially-minded. The first night I was at her place, she say down in front of the TV and asked me if I’d like to watch the news. My kind of lady! I was exuberant. Last summer I watched lots of TV with Maitrayi Di, though it was all Bengali soaps. With Chitra Di I watch CNN and BBC. Perhaps not as good for my Bengali education, but so much better for my taste in media and my ability to be informed.

Long story short (or, if you’ve read this whole thing, long story long), I really like my living arrangements for the summer.

~m

In Delhi

All 60 or so of us doing CLS in India landed in Delhi last weekend to have our in-country orientation. We visited the AIIS headquarters in Gurgaon, outside of Delhi, where there is an impressive collection of ethnomusicology sound recordings, archeological documents and literature from India. Amidst many hours of orientation, we were able to squeeze in a little sight seeing. We went to the Qutb Minar in Delhi, which is an ancient astrological instrument (it’s actually an enormous sundial). The minar is well-preserved, but some of the surrounding grounds are in ruins. The whole sight was very beautiful.

After our tour of AIIS Gurgaon, they took us to the Kingdom of Dreams, which is probably the closest thing India has to Disney World, minus the rides. It’s this immaculate fake castle, and on the inside they have shops and restaurants from nearly every state. I think they took us there just because it was close to AIIS (Gurgaon is a business-oriented suburb of Delhi where the ultra-rich live amongst towering headquartes of Multinationals and shantytowns of construction workers and other service people). Anyways, it was disappointed to have to spend two or three hours in the Kingdom of Dreams, which is a pathetically unrealistic representation of the country, when we could have been exploring Delhi and its real monuments.

Luckily we did have Monday afternoon free to go wherever we chose. I went with two guys from the Urdu program to Old Delhi. We went on the metro, which is one of India’s prouder recent achievements. The whole system was built, with the help of funding and technical support from the Japanese government (India is the biggest recipient of Japanese foreign aid), on time, within budget, and without any corruption scandals. There are five or six lines, and the trains are clean, fast, and air-conditioned. I was very impressed. By comparison, Kolkata’s metro system, which was built in the 80’s, has only one line, which runs from North to South (though they have recently expanded it further south, and are in the process of building an East-West line), and is un-air conditioned. It also generally runs on time, and for a fraction of the price. A ticket on the Kolkata metro costs from Rs 4-8 while in Delhi it’s Rs. 15-30 or so. Double the number to get the approximate American cost, in cents (a 4 Rupee ticket is about 8 American cents (though it’s actually probably closer to 9)).

We got out of the metro and basically guessed where to go, walking around until we could see the top of the Red Fort. When we got up to the gate, we realized that it was closed, as most monuments and museums in India are on Mondays. We looked at it through the gate, and then, in a roundabout way, eventually found the Jamuna Masjid. It was absolutely beautiful, though we declined to pay the Rs 200 entrance fee, so, like the Red Fort, we only saw it from the outside. After that, we wandered through some of the alleys in bazaar of Old Delhi before heading back to the metro. All in all, it was a fun afternoon, and it was nice to finally get out on my own, and be able to choose where I was going, rather than being ushered around.

On Tuesday morning, we all left for our different program locations.

The pictures of me at the Qutb Minar, the bazaar in Old Delhi, and inside the Kingdom of Dreams.

Back to Kolkata! ...Again!

I'm sitting in Washington Dulles International Airport and I figure that now is as a good a time as any to write my first post for the summer. I know I wasn't the most consistent writer last summer, but hopefully this year my posts will be more regular.

I'm heading back to the American Institute of Indian Studies (AIIS) for intensive language study in Bangla/Bengali, on a Critical Language Scholarship (CLS) from the State Department, same as last year. Yes, it's a mouthful. Anyways, I'll be in Kolkata for 10 weeks this summer, and I'm really excited!

Unlike last year, this year the group of us going to Kolkata on CLS (there are four of us) get to go to Delhi for orientation with everyone else going to India (about 60 of us). Last year for some reason the Kolkata students did not get to do that. So I'm really looking forward to being put up in the Taj Hotel, one of the nicest hotels in Delhi, and getting to tour a bit in Delhi before we fly out to Kolkata later in the week.

I can already tell that this year will be very different from last year. This year there are 4 CLS students and 9 general AIIS students studying Bangla, compared to only 3 CLS students and no general students last year. Last year I had all individual classes, which had its pros and cons, but that surely will not be the case this year. Last year, I was the most advanced student at the institute. Rebecca, the other woman coming on CLS with me, has better Bangla than I do, and I imagine that several other people will as well. We won't meet the other 9 until we reach Kolkata, and I have not yet had a chance to talk to Ben and Jeff, the other CLS-ers in Bangla, so I'm not sure where their level is. But I'm really excited to have people who are more advanced than I am, because they can help teach me too, and it will push me more in class. Also, it will be nice to have so many peers who are willing and eager (and able) to converse in Bangla. I hope to speak much less English this summer than I did last summer.

I've had a really wonderful time seeing so many of my friends in DC before heading out. I arrived in DC a few days before the CLS pre-departure orientation began so that I could see my friends, some of whom I hadn't seen since December or January because they were studying abroad. It was really great to go all around DC without having a tight schedule or stressful classes to worry about. These past few days have really made me appreciate DC even more. The beautiful weather didn't hurt either.

Congrats to my big bro Evan for graduating from college! He kilt it, yo.

From one capitol to another...

Nomoshkar!

~Maura

Strikes, visits, etc

Wow, I’m getting much less time to write than I thought I would. Which actually is a good thing, because it means I’m really busy.

School is going really well. Now that my online class from AU is over (took my final exam on Friday), I will be able to give my full attention to Bengali class. Before I was spending time that should be have been spent studying Bangla, studying cinema. That was part of what packed up my schedule, too. But anyway, about school: I have four classes a day, on various topics. Some of it is pretty standard basic stuff – grammar, etc. But some of my classes have been tailored to my personal interests, so my reading class often involves reading political news. The other day was reading about the Maoists in the Southwestern part of the state. At this point I’m just reading headlines and highlighted sentences; I can’t just sit down and read the whole thing. I’m getting speedier at short stories, though.

Some of the highlights of the past week:

On Monday, I went to visit my friend Anwesha at her grandparents’ place. I met her at the Durga Puja in DC. She goes to Georgetown, lives in FL. But she’s Bengali and this summer she and her parents came back to visit. So I got to meet them and her grandparents, too. Her grandparents were really excited to have me at their place. They took a gazillion photos while I ate lunch, lol.

On Wednesday, we had a guest speaker come after class. Abhijit Bose is a famous Bengali folk singer. He talked about the different types of folk songs in the different regions of West Bengal. He told us about eight or nine varieties, and this is just in one state! He’s famous for a reason. His voice is absolutely beautiful. He tried to teach us a song and to get us to sing along, but that was problematic for two reasons: we couldn’t read his extremely sloppy Bengali handwriting, and I (idk about Danielle and Andi) am a terrible singer. I don’t sing aloud where people can hear in English, let alone try to sing a song I’ve never heard before in another language. Haha. It was really neat to have him come though.

To continue with the musical activities, Danielle and I went with Andi to her first tabla lesson. Tablas are really neat Indian hand drums that make all sorts of noises most Americans wouldn’t associate with a drum. That was pretty neat to watch. The notes are Bengali (or more probably Sanskrit) letters, but unlike English notes, the notes’ names are matched with their sound. So the teacher taught Andi about eight notes, then sang/clapped them out for her to play. At the end of the lesson, we asked him to play something more complicated, just for show. He began singing the notes as he played them too, which was neat. It sounded like the music that goes with Kathak dance (a traditional Indian dance, Wikipedia it). So that was neat.

On Friday we went on a field trip after class. Prosenjitda and Priyankadi took us to the Marble Palace. It requires a pass from the WB office of tourism, which is why I had never gone before. If I had known how incredibly cool it is, maybe I would have though. It’s this enormous (crumbling, as is most of the Colonial architecture in Kolkata) mansion with floors and walls of marble. Every square inch of it is extremely detailed; its impossible to take it all in. Most of the floors were designed to look like carpet, so there were easily 15 different colors of marble within 5 square feet of floor. The ceilings aren’t marble, but they’re extremely intricate as well. The house would be a sight to see empty, but it is the opposite. Every room is chock-full of paintings and sculptures from colonial times. There’s an enormous statue of Queen Victoria, busts of many other historic figures, and statues of probably every Greek god. It was really more than the eye could take in. The family of the man who had it built in the 1800s still owns it, and in fact part of it is sectioned off as their living quarters. Outside, the grounds are quite well maintained, and there is even a small zoo with birds and deer and such. I saw the most beautiful peacock, but the zoo only convinced me further that visiting any zoo in India is a bad idea. The cages are shamefully small, and I just felt sorry for all the animals.

After the Marble Palace, we stopped by Rabindranath Tagore’s (the famous Bengali poet) birthplace. His old family home has been turned into a museum, and it’s on the campus of a university he established (or perhaps it was just established in his name). I had been there before, on Tagore’s birthday last year, and it was so packed I barely saw any of it. It was much emptier on Friday, and we strolled around the campus and through the galleries at our leisure. Unfortunately it was near closing-time when we entered, so even then we felt rushed.

On Saturday, I went back to the CRAWL Sealdah Station project for the first time, and Danielle and Maitrayeedi (I spelled her name wrong last time. It’s pronounced Moitri, but in English she spells it Maitrayee) came with me. I saw a lot of people I knew, which was really neat. Unfortunately, the project isn’t going so well. There were only about 20 or 30 kids, compared to the 70-90 we usually had last year. They’ve planted flowers in the spot where we used to set up, so now they’re running the project at a different part of the station. Just this past week the RR Authority “un-granted” the permission to give out food, so now we have to take the kids off the station grounds and form a line there to distribute food. Wound care, coloring, and washing are proceeding as usual. I really enjoyed going back again, even though it was so different and not everyone I wanted to see was there. I have to figure out the bus routes/schedule so I can there more cheaply. The taxi we took cost Rs 156 (just over $3), and that was only one way. By comparison, I can’t imagine a bus costing more than Rs 8 or so.

We caught that cab (and one on the way back) despite the transportation strike that was going on in Kolkata that day. The Indian Federal government raised gas prices on Friday at midnight (I guess the correct thing to say is Saturday at midnight), and the Communist Party of India (Marxist), the former majority party in West Bengal, called a 24-hour transportation strike (of taxis and auto-rickshaws) in protest. It was an amazing sight to see. I live on one of the larger roads, and there were three rows of taxis parked as far as the eye could see. It was eerily quiet with only personal cars on the streets. Usually there are lines of autos waiting for people, but later in the day I saw a line of people waiting for an auto. And that night, I saw a group of people marching in protest. The marches are actually not uncommon, I used to see a lot of political marches when I lived here before. That’s one thing I love about Bengali culture, even if I don’t agree with they’re ideals: they’re very active and political. I won’t get started on West Bengali politics here, but there is a lot I could say. Anyways, their request won’t be answered. India’s national deficit is skyrocketing (perhaps not compared to the US), and they’ve been subsidizing gas since the 70’s. Gas prices had basically not changed since 2004, when ppb soared. Basically, the state can’t afford to keep subsidizing gas at such high rates. Here’s the full story: http://www.telegraphindia.com/1100626/jsp/frontpage/story_12612781.jsp

On Saturday evening, I went to my friend Sweta’s house. I know her through Babai. She showed me around her area (called Girish Park, very close to the Marble Palace and Tagore’s place). I really like her neighborhood a lot. Things were starting to close when went for a walk around 8:30, and the transportation strike contributed to the calm. But the streets were narrow and winding, and not nearly so hectic as the road I live on. We went to a (Kali) temple and prayed, and she showed me around the different aspects of it. I had dinner at her place before heading back to mine. Sweta is actually Bihari, so she spoke to her mom in their native Bihari language and in Hindi. She and her brother and her little neighbor spoke Hindi with eachother, and the three of them spoke English with me. But her mom doesn’t speak English, so we spoke Bengali to eachother. In that one room, there were four languages being spoken. Sweta joked that it was like the tri-lingual train announcements, with everything being translated from language to language.

On Sunday I went back to Khardah for the third time since I’ve been here. This time Prativa and Mili had come back from visiting their families, so I got to see them for the first time. I had tea and played cards with Bobby and Debashis and their neighbor before walking around Khardah with the girls. I also finally got to see Monica Aunty (the jewellery shop-keeper near my old flat). I went to her house because she wasn’t at the store. It was neat to see her. She was excited with how much Bangla I can speak now. She literally watched me progress from no Bengali, to a few words, to struggling to produce coherent sentences, to where I am today, which still has plenty of room for improvement. But she’s seen the lingual transformation.

Well, I think I’ve written entirely too much for one post, so I’ll leave it at that. Below are some pictures of the transit strike, as well as one of my room, one of the house I live in (viewed from the second-floor terrace), and one of me and Sweta.

~m

Monsooooooooooon

Well, last night I wrote a very long post about everything that's been going on, and I saved it on my zip drive to post at school today. Except the folder I created for it was on my desktop. Woops. So I'll have to post that later...

But it's ok, because between last night and this morning, I have plenty of interest to write about: the coming of the monsoon.

Today is the first real day of monsoon-like rain, by my estimation. It's rained before, but never like this.

So I got ready for school like usual this morning, and I decided to leave about 20 min early so I would have time to post the blog I wrote last night before class. The maid, Sondhadi, asked me if I was going to go today. I said yes, class is happening. She asked if I had an umbrella, and I told her yes. She said ok (this was all in Bangla, btw. The only English word I've heard her say is "ok," though this morning, and usually, she used the Bengali equivalent, thik achhe), but she still seemed a little concerned. I was soon to find out why.

I left my house and hadn't even made it half a block before the water stopped me. At the corner of a small street (or maybe a driveway), the curb was met with waves of water. I could see a man crossing, and the water was almost to his knees. "No way," I thouhgt. I looked for a way to get onto the street, but it was too far to jump over the water at the side of the road. So I turned around and walked the other way until I found a place I could get onto the street. I walked all the back to my house, and past it, before I gave up and stepped in maybe 8-inch water to get onto the higher part of the street. I began walking, but I soon had to walk back into the water to avoid being hit by a bus. At this point I gave up and resigned myself to the fact that I would have to walk through the water. So I made it to Hazra More (where I catch an auto) intermittently wading and walking.

After the auto ride, I began walking again. I got to Swinhoe Street, the street AIIS is on, and it looked like a river. I followed a woman into the knee-deep water and began the long wade towards school. The water kept getting higher, and eventually I had to cross the street to slightly higher ground. I was terrified that I would fall off the sidewalk I was on because I couldn't see the curb. The water was opaque brown, with all sorts of trash and who-knows-what floating in it. I could feel the current pulling me as I made my way across the street. It really felt like a river. When I finally made it to the school, water was up to the third or fourth step on the staircase that lets out onto the street.

Now I really understand why there are still hand-pulled rickshaws today. If I had seen an empty one, I would have taken it.

Amazingly, cars were coming through, as well as the rest of the usual traffic: people, bikes, rickshaws, though everything was obviously much slower.

Later, I did see a guy pushing a broken-down car.

Pratimadi told me that years ago, it would flood even worse, and the school had a boat to ferry people to the higher ground of the big roads. But now the water receeds quite quickly. It's been just 7 hours now since I was walking through, and the middle of the street is above water. Only the sides of the street are still water-logged, like happens in the US.

Prosenjitda told me that flooding like this usually only happens 3 or 4 times a year. I'm glad I won't have to walk through all that every day....

Who needs Venice when you have Kolkata?

~m

(Pictures of this are coming)