Mother Teresa

Some people are selfless. Some are selfish. Most of us probably fall somewhere along the line between the two.

While I was in Kolkata, I had the chance to visit the Missionaries of Charity facility. It is where Mother Teresa lived, served and offered love to people who had nothing. Nothing. Not "I don't have an iPod/color tv/filet mignon." Nothing. Maybe a set of clothing. Maybe not. Maybe teeth. Maybe not. Maybe the ability to speak. Maybe not. Maybe the ability to read. Most likely not. You get my point.

To see poverty in the way that it's thrown in front of you here can be a shock. I sat in front of her tomb and read the inscription "Love one another as I have loved you" and thought, wow, here lies the remains of someone who will likely become a saint, who lived in a room smaller than most of our closets.

Not to be overly preachy, but I would hope that more people would be thankful for what they have, and not upset over what they don't have. If you need a lesson in this, come visit the sisters who run this place.

One last thing. As I've visited temples around India, I've usually been confronted with the demand to pay for everything. Check your shoes? Money. Enter the temple? Money. I was ready to start handing out notes as soon as I walked in the door here. But you know what? Not one single request. Not a sign, not a hand thrust in my face, nada. It was refreshing. Of course I made a donation as I left, and I'm sure they end up collecting far more from people because they don't ask.

Oh! Calcutta!

Since I've never seen the movie or Broadway show "Oh! Calcutta!" I'd always assumed it was in some how connected with the city and/or India. Turns out I was wrong.

Also finally learned what the "Black Hole of Calcutta" was. You'll have to go look it up, as it's way too long to describe here. Only thing you need to know: it's not here anymore.

I spent this past weekend in this former British colonial capitol. When I told people where I was going, they all, I mean all, looked at me like I was some kind of a freak. “Kalkota? Do you know anyone there?” or “Kolkata? It is the dirtiest city in India.” I insisted that my goal was to see as much of India as I could, and that Kolkata was on the list.

I arrived a little late – hey, it’s India – and headed to my hotel. The airport is located in Dum Dum. Great name huh? Dates back to the fact the British invented the “dum dum” bullet here or something. I noticed the huge numbers of cows as soon as we left the driveway of the airport. I’ve seen cows all over India, but they were everywhere here. I later found out that the area around the airport, although developing quickly, is mostly comprised of agricultural villages.

We drove thru Salt Lake City on the way. Yes, they have a SLC here too. It is home to many software and tech companies, and there were lots of people on bikes. However, I didn’t see any Mormons and the only temples were Hindu. When I told my driver we too had a Salt Lake City, he seemed surprised.
I took a blitz tour with my driver of the sites of the city. Victoria Memorial, some bridges, the Ghats, lunch at a hotel, a very ill conceived walk thru the New Market where I was joined by my very own “coolie” who insisted that I need not buy anything, but I had to look. Only problem is if you make any eye contact with a shop owner, it’s nearly impossible to get away from their grip. So throwing manners aside, I simply ignored everyone, including the man who tried to use the age-old “I know you” line. I said “You do? What’s my name?” Much like my friend in Phuket who I threw off with my “I’m from India” line, this poor sap just looked at me and smirked. Phew, dodged another store full of crap I will never put in my house, but some of you may get as Christmas gifts!

After I escaped the market, my little helper, Afjal (Badge #64), insisted that I put his name and id number into my cell phone, in the event I come back to shop. I did just that, and now I’m putting Afjal's name out on the web for the entire world to see. So if any of you ever find yourself in Kolkata and in need of a dose of shopping, please look out for Afjal. And to steal a line from Dave Chappelle, “Afjal, your famous, biotch!”

One aspect of Kolkata that just punches you in the face is the poverty. I had one woman, holding a small baby, follow me through the entire market saying “I’m poor, no husband, baby food.” She wouldn’t take the “no, sorry” from me and kept following until she finally realized I wasn’t going to give her anything. It’s not that I didn’t feel bad, it’s just that as soon as you give anything to anyone here, there will be 50 more right behind them. I did give a donation at the Missionaries of Charity though, so stop muttering those anti-Republican, heartless bastard comments about me. I'm a big believer in charitable causes, I just know I can only do so much when confronted by such a big need.

The area around the New Market is the ground zero of the tourist trade. And it’s also one of the last cities in the world with human pulled rickshaws. There are about 18,000 of them employed around the city, most earning less than 50 INR a day. Most of the pullers I saw were barefoot, and walking around barefoot here is a dangerous proposition. I tried to get a good picture of one, but this is all you’ll get.

Last comment – for some reason, as we drove down Sudder Street, some insane man decided I’d offended him. I hadn’t done anything, was merely looking out the window of my car. He had long, scraggly hair, and I swear I saw him in Berkeley about 15 years ago. He just started screaming “F you! F you!” and staring insanely at me. I did what came instinctively to me – I smiled and flipped him off.

A few more pictures for you. Random heard of goats walking around the market area. And a picture of some men bathing at the Hooghly Ghats.