5 Days

... remaining before the long journey home. As wrote that first line I must admit tears came to my eyes. It has been two long weeks. My only way to cope with the complete change in culture and separation from my family is to, in many ways, ignore the reality of my days and nights... to operate on auto-pilot, focused on the short-term goals and tasks I am here for. Now, switching off the auto-pilot just briefly enough to think about the fact that I will be returning soon brings in a rush of emotion that has been locked inside, mixed up with the conflict that Kolkata creates for me.

I miss my family.
I knew I would and I knew this would be hard. Thanks to Skype we are able to talk a lot while I am here... some days for several hours (depending on schedules). This has made it infinitely easier to get through. I did not realize how much I would miss being in the same room, breathing the same air. We have a routine that keeps us in "contact" and it is manageable... but this separation is clearly not desireable, in any way. I can't imagine how the soldiers in Iraq and their families manage their separation (they don't get to talk on Skype twice a day). They aren't gone for 3 weeks... they are gone for 18+ MONTHS! Add that to the fact that they face the possibility of death every hour of every day! I know they choose to be soldiers but I admire their strength and and endurance.

Images of Kolkata, honestly.
If I really look at Kolkata honestly, the images here (most in my mind) are haunting and sometimes unbearable. I have written of the contrast, of the extremes, of the poverty. The images of poverty are nothing that we haven't seen on TV or in the mail when we are asked to help the international causes.... but when you are here, when you see it first hand, when you touch it and it kisses your hand it breaks your heart.

Seeing and touching Kolkata.
I went out today... alone in the streets around my hotel. Many of the local shops and markets are closed because it is Sunday but ALL of the street vendors are there, selling their goods, because for them there are no weekends. As I walked it was clear that I was "different" and for some, a target. Everyone had something they wanted to sell me. If they only knew that I am the most indecisive shopper in the world they would wouldn't waste their time talking to me. Watches, jewelry, shirts, pants, underwear, shoes, belts, sunglasses, scarfs, stuffed animals, food, drinks, cigarettes, pharmaceuticals, bags (purses, sports bags, briefcases)... you name it, you can buy it... all on the streets... just like a big flea market. Prices are... "negotiable". One fellow was selling decorations for couches... large, manufactured, printed, fabrics that you would put on the back of your couch for decoration... his price started at rs 210 (about $4.50)... in about 15 seconds his price dropped to rs 150 ($3.25)... as I walked away... he called for me to name my price... I was just not interested.

Click Photos to enlarge.

For much of this part of my tour I was escorted (not by invitation) by a local man, Kosim (At left: Waiting for me to photograph the taxi cabs). He was tagging along, kindly telling me many things about the buildings and the sites. Of course his motivation was not entirely altruistic... his hidden agenda was to guide me to his shop... the Art Emporium where he sells a "selection of Leather Garments, All kinds of Sarree... Handicrafts & Jewelry".

After browsing a couple of blocks, looking and taking pictures I went into a local Citi Mart store that was open. This was like a small Wal-Mart. There were guards at the door preventing many people from entering. Kosim was not allowed to follow me into the shop which was okay by me. He was friendly enough, but a little pushy. Inside there were many, many store employees (they wore uniforms) that seemed to be "watching" a lot... for shoplifters? The store was very busy... it reminded my of KMart as a child... shoppers everywhere busily searching for bargains... a lot of chaos. I found a package of handkerchiefs (3 for rs 50... $1.09). These are handy in this climate as everyone sweats a lot outside.

Click Photos to enlarge.
You know he is wondering WTF this westerner finds interesting enough for a photo!	Can Wal-Mart compete here?	Trix are for kids EVERYWHERE! Single serving snacks only 11¢
A paradise of products!	Ramen Noodles Indian Style!	Note the Axe products... a favorite of American boys!

As I left the local "Wal-mart" with handkerchief in hand I headed up the road to see more of the local vendors. Shortly after crossing the street I felt a tug at my arm and I looked down to see a small girl asking for a hand-out. I said "no" like I do to everyone else. This is one of the hardest parts of being here because there are so many people here that have so little and need so much that one cannot begin to help them all. As you walk through the streets you see their faces, so needy... you must close your ears, your eyes and your heart. This girl was about 6 or 7 years old with a bright smile and dark eyes and was very persistant. She asked again and again so I took some coins from my pocket and gave them to her. Her dress was tattered and she walked barefoot on the hot pavement. She followed me to up the street as looked at the shops, talking to me all the way -- reciting to me the ABCs and counting from 1 to 100.

Up at the corner I ran into Kosim again who pleaded with me to come to his shop. I agreed as I was curious what his "Art Emporium" might have for sale. His shop was down a hall and up some winding stairs. Here he had a very small space to sell his wares. Pictures (paintings? prints? on paper and silk), statues, jewelry, fabrics, etc... not much different from the street vendors. He made me laugh because the first pictures he pulled out were from the Kama Sutra. Is this what "westerners" like? Some of the pictures were nice but I wasn't sure if it was junk or not. His prices were a little high but he was willing to haggle. I told him I would come back in a couple of days with my friend who would help me decide. He wasn't so fond of this idea which of course made me suspicious but we bargained for a couple of silk paintings (Krisha and Ganesh) for $15. I will have to get Greg to help me frame them.

Pujioy
After I left Kosim's shop the little girl was once again there waiting for me with her big smile. She walked with me up the street toward my hotel. As we walked she told me her name was Pujioy. I asked her if I could take her picture and she kindly posed for me. I gave her some more coins in appreciation and we walked on.

When I reached the entrance to the hotel I said goodbye to the little girl and she took my hand and kissed it gently. She stood at the gate of the hotel driveway watching as I walked away leaving her world and re-entering mine. These are the images, the memories of Kolkata that will haunt me for some time, perhaps forever.