Stuff Larry Eats

Navigating the back alleys around my hotel, I arrived at Mother House shortly before noon today to inquire about volunteering and to look at an exhibition on Mother Theresas life and her room, which was being restored the last time I was there. Besides being an inspirational figure that transcends cultural boundaries, it was fascinating to see how meticulous an administrator Mother Theresa was, as she kept files on correspondences and paper work on her many homes around India, which no doubt enable her to create and spread one of the largest charity networks in the world. One of the sisters at Mother House instructed me to be at Shishu Bhavan, a bit north of Mother House, at 3 pm for a briefing for volunteers.

After running some errands nearby, I turned up at Shishu Bhavan in time for the briefing. The sisters and veteran volunteers there split the up the some forty or so volunteers who showed up into different language groups so they can talk to us in our own languages. There were groups for Korean, Japanese, French, Spanish and English speakers. But as I had volunteered before, I was spared the usual hour-long briefing. But I did read an interesting letter that long term volunteers had written to us newbies on giving money to beggars and children around the houses and on Sudder Street (the tourist hub that I live near).

The letter raised three points on why you shouldnt give money to those that ask you for it on the streets that I didnt think about before:

1. In Kolkata, children often come up to you and start pulling on you and attempt to hold your hand, in order to try to catch your attention and make you sympathize with them so youll give them money. When they do this and you give them money, you make them associate physical contact with money and you validate this kind of behavior. Unfortunately, this is also how a lot of child sexual abuse begins, as it isnt that far a stretch for children who believe that physical contact is an acceptable means to get money to think that prostitution is also acceptable. Unfortunately, child prostitution, perpetrated by locals and foreigners alike, is very real here.
2. While there are genuine people in need, a lot of beggars and children are coached into asking foreigners for money. The letter talked about how beggars would just sell back the food and water they receive to the shops you bought them at to get money. This kind of behavior is not behavior that locals are proud of. So by encouraging it, you are in essence encouraging a culture of deception that many here are ashamed of.
3. Some people think that by giving money to beggars, they are actually doing independent charity work outside of the system of NGOs around the city. But the sad fact is that every time someone does this, they undermine the work of these NGOs that have tried so hard to get people off the streets.

The letter instructs volunteers to just ignore those that approach them or if necessary, direct them to a NGO that can help. Ive also started blasting music on the new in-ear earphones that I got, which does a good job of drowning out the excessive honking of drivers here (I swear, yesterday, on a very wide street that did not have anyone else on it, a car went down the block honking continuously) and gives me an excuse to ignore beggars asking for money. The only con of this is that I feel like a prick doing this and this makes me less aware of cars that are actually honking at me. Ive already witnessed a motor cycle crash into a woman five feet in front of me last night on the street that that picture was taken. So hopefully that wont happen to me while Im plugged in.

After around eight hours of flying from Hong Kong through Singapore to Kolkata, I landed at the Chandra Bose International Airport at 9 pm. The familiar scene of military police patrolling the arrival zone with their AK-47s was oddly comforting as rowdy passengers from my flight jostled for spots in the queue to get through immigration. When I finally collected my bags, I took a pre-paid taxi, which was a tad bit more expensive but was probably a good idea as I was too exhausted to haggle with the swarm of drivers waiting to ambush you as you stepped out of the airport, to the Dee Empresa Hotel. Having stayed here last time, the familiar faces of the hotel staff helped make me feel almost at home in this bustling city, although the orchestral rendition of “Bad Romance” playing in the newly renovated lobby was slightly off-putting.

You can’t walk down a block without being hustled once by beggars or people trying to sell you stuff, as I found out this morning when I stepped out of the hotel to explore the neighborhood. But this could be my fault for picking a hotel in the tourist area. Interestingly though, the knowledge of international affairs or foreign cultures of your average hustler here is pretty high (or maybe I’ve just been in America for too long). One hustler commented on the increasing amount of military exchanges between the Chinese and Indian militaries, while another talked about his dream of going to Shenzhen and becoming a mahjong champion.

After dodging what must’ve been hundreds of honking cars (I’ve lost track on how many times I’ve almost been run over today), I arrived at India’s largest museum — the Indian Museum. A cross between a natural history museum and an art museum, the museum housed a great collection of man-made and natural artifacts, but lacked the funds to house them properly. Still, the museum had a rustic charm to it and I would’ve enjoyed myself a lot more had a con-artist claiming to be a fellow traveler not follow me around the whole time and offer to take me to the Kalighat Temple for free. It’s sad though that your default reaction to people reaching out in these situations should be one of suspicion.

Baked fish and coffee with cream at the Indian Coffee House. Total cost = less than $2 USD.

I then headed over to the (no-so) New Market and had a light lunch of mutton momos (Chinese influenced dumplings) and masala chat (a blend of spices, potatos and fried crispy things) from the food stalls on the surrounding streets. When I finished browsing the shops in the market, I headed to the Esplanade Metro station (Kolkata has India’s only subway system) and took it up to Central Station to find College Street, a street near many of Kolkata’s universities, such as Calcutta University and Presidency University (Amartya Sen’s alma mater) that sold textbooks, mostly catered to the fields of engineering and computer science. After looking around the street, I headed to the Indian Coffee House, a historic meeting place for conspirators against the British Raj, where I had an afternoon cup of coffee and a spicy dish of baked fish. Making my way through the nightmarishly crowded streets, I managed to hail a cab that was willing to take me back to my hotel for dinner.

So here I am, after my first 24 hours, still in one piece. I’m planning on using this weekend to get myself acclimated to Kolkata and do some touristy things that I didn’t get to do the last time I was he. I’ll start volunteering on Monday when I’ll head over to Mother House to get myself registered to work. I’ll head over to Gangtok, Sikkim next week to check out the snowy northeastern mountainside. I’m going to try and keep myself disconnected throughout this trip apart from these irregular updates. Too bad I can’t connect my SD card to my iPad, I would love to start sharing some of these pictures I’m taking. Oh well.