The Kolkata Third Wind

Yes, you got it right.

This is the third wind. Not the second. The third. Just when I feel like I am going to run out of gas I book a bunch of train tickets, go at whirlwind pace, and then look back and wonder where the time went.

Since the 22nd, I have been to:

Amritsar
Home to the Golden Temple, holiest of the Sikh temples in India. I had to wear a scarf over my head and I ate free lunch with the other worshippers on the floor. It was amazing and very confusing.

Visited the site of the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre
Where 2000 unarmed Indians were shot at by British troops. About 500 died. It was one of the events that spurred the support and momentum of Gandhi's movement.

Attari
This will definitely be one of the highlights of my entire trip. This is the border crossing between India and Pakistan, and EVERY DAY at sundown, they have a ceremony that really is worthwhile seeing.

The guards... look like they are cracked out and sterioded up members of India's 1930's gymnastics team. They huff and puff and then sporadically march out to the border gates, kicking so high they look like they may concuss themselves. They scream like banshees and their eyes bulge, and they toss out filthy looks of passionate hatred towards their Pakistani equivalents. They slowly jerk the flags down, wrap them up, and avoid concussing themselves on the march back to the ecstatic Indian crowd.

And the crowd was what made it. I haven't seen people that excited since the Stanley Cup finals in Calgary. Since the World Cup in Berlin. Men screamed at pitches I thought impossible for y chromosomes, they ripped off their shirts and swung them around like a helicopter blade. Women cried and laughed.

And they do this... every day. There were probably 2000 Indians there. I have been told that isn't unusual attendance. Every day.

Can you imagine if they had something like this at a Canadian-American border? Who would show up? Would we shoot hockey pucks at them? Or more likely, we would show up in full force to show them who is boss... and they wouldn't send anybody. What? Tonight American Idol is on.

Rishikesh
Ah, the yoga capital of the world. I went and saw the ashram that John, Ringo, and Paul holed themselves up in and wrote a good part of the White Album. Apparently George and his wife didn't like the veggie food and left after a couple weeks while the rest stayed on. Now their are squatters living there who, upon spotting you, will below about the fabolous rooms and meditation lessons on offer in the overgrown dump. No thanks.
I stayed in an ashram the first night. It was mostly Indians, I met a couple of others who were wrapping up an intensive yoga course and an American girl named Megan. It was 500Rs for the full deal including yoga and food, however upon hearing there was no yoga on the weekend, I bailed for High Bank, where there was yoga on offer if not in an ashram.
I also went to a very cool ganga aarti ceremony where the local Indians sing and play music and clap and pray for about an hour on a set of marble steps going down to the Ganges. This is the clean part of the Ganges as it hasn't gotten to so many people yet, so when the locals impeded me to stick my flower basket with a candle in it and make a prayer, I stuck my feet in the water with the lot of them and prayed that I wouldn't get some horrible disease from the water.

Agra
The Mighty Taj. Got there at the crack of 6am and it was really lovely. Hardly any people, I have pictures of just me standing in front of it. It was cool and nice but really only worth about 2 hours of admiration. The French girl I roomed with and a Brit we met there joined me for breakfast, then we went and admired Agra fort. We were our own tour guides, and I took it upon myself to read my Lonely Planet aloud with David Attenborough's voice (Planet Earth narrarator) much to the delight of the Indian children giggling and following us around.
My hostel had a great view of the Taj (Shanti Lodge) but the hassles in Taj Ganj were pretty draining. And Agra... has earned its reputation.

Kolkata
Got into Kolkata at 4am today, after a 22 hour train. Fun fun. Read a 450 page book. Good times. Wrangled with the Bangladesh embassy this morning, am to pick up my visa at 5 tomorrow. Then Saturday morning, off to Bangladesh!
I went to Victoria Memorial, a great white marble colonial building commemorating her highness. I found it rather preposterous and pompous - how could they have built this when there were clearly so many other ways to spend that dough? And the commentary in the Kolkata Room would dedicate a wall to the luxury of the Britains - little anecdotes and the like - then have a tiny inscription half heartedly mentioning about how the rich dude made a decision that ultimately killed 2 million Indians via starvation. Ooops!

I am meeting my British friend Rachel, German friend Timo, and Canadian friend Leah (the latter two I met at the embassy this morning and I travelled with them today. Timo was in Bangladesh for a couple of months and gave me some good tips and Leah is doing the same program with me in Dhaka so now I will have friends there! ha!) for dinner, so I must be off. Missing everyone, and will get pictures up sooner or later!

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Part of trip: The India Chronicles

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