"Excuse me, but is this goat's blood I'm treading in?"


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Asia » India » West Bengal » Kolkata
April 26th 2008
Published: April 27th 2008
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I went to Kalighat temple today and all I got was this stupid bracelet that signifies that I went to Kalighat temple and got conned out of a lot of rupees. Because I'm stupid.

Lesson #7 for people travelling in a country where their very apppearance indicates that they probably have more personal wealth than 90%!o(MISSING)f the population. Always, always, always ask how much something is going to cost before you commit to it as otherwise you will be asked to pay much more after the fact.

I learnt this lesson today.

Still on the plus side I took a taxi to the temple and only paid Rs80 so that briefly gave me the illusion of competence. When I got out of the taxi a "priest" came up to me immediately and hustled me into what I think was a shop and started putting together a bundle of offerings for me to present at the temple, I asked how much these offerings were and the "priest" said Rs30 which seemed reasonable. He then told me to take off my shoes and socks and follow him.

Unknown to me until I entered the temple, Saturday is the busiest day to visit Kalighat and I'm not sure if this makes it a better time to visit or not. Still it was amazing to see to temple operating at full capacity and there was a long line of people (which I bypassed) queuing to get inside.

Kalighat temple is dedicated to the goddess Kali, the Hindu goddess of death and destruction. She is the wife of Shiva. She is often portrayed with black skin and mad looking eyes. And at Kalighat temple Hindus believe that a toe from Shiva's first wife Dakshayani fell to Earth here.

My experience was a twenty minute tour of the temple. After pushing my way through the crowd I was shown where the goats are slaughtered to the goddess daily as well as the intestines from the most recent sacrifices. It was at this point in the tour that I was trying not to look where I was stepping. Then I got to look into what I guess could be called the inner sanctum. Although "look" is a bit of an overstatement. The statue of the goddess was surrounded by worshippers and from where I was standing; below the platform the statue was on, I just couldn't see it. However every so often a gong or something sounds and all the people move back from the statue to let me, the non-believer, have a look at it.

The temple is also the home of many brahmins, the highest caste, each of whom are experts in different parts of the of the Hindu canon. A few families also live there too.

Lastly I was taken to a tree that bares no blossoms or fruit, to signify death I suppose, and was told to hang my various offerings on it. I was given a little string bracelet and had a red dot painted on my forehead. I think I also inadvertantly offered prayers of protection to everyone I know; so you're welcome. So far, so spiritual, I was then asked to write my name and country in a little book and then state how much I was donating to the temple. The last person had given Rs4500, but my guide kindly said I need only give Rs2000, on top of his fee of course. My problem was that even if I wanted to give Rs2000, which I didn't, I didn't have that much money on me as Julia had warned me yesterday to only take a small amount of cash with me each day and to leave the rest safely in my hotel. So today I only had Rs700. All of which I promptly handed over. It was a masterful piece of reverse psychology on their part. I remember justifying this act to myself by thinking: "Well they gave me this red dot and this piece of string, it would be rude not to give them some money". The string bracelet was at this point leaking yellow dye into my skin and making it look like I had the first warning signs of severe liver failure.

In the afternoon I met some other travellers who were all very nice but gave me the dispiriting news that I could have gotten away with giving Rs150. Oh well.

The aftermath of my visit to the temple was that I now had no money to get back to the hotel, however I reestablished my traveller's credentials by going on the metro with the few spare coins I now had. I got back fine.

Even if I did get on a train going in the wrong direction the first time round.

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27th April 2008

Oh, the naivety of youth.
Jamie, I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed reading your blogs - but, hey, you've been in India for only a few days and you've already been ripped off twice! Indian people usually go out of their way to avoid confrontation, so don't be afraid of voicing your objections very loudly, rather than submitting to their bogus demands - but be sure to do it with a smile. They won't be offended, just embarrassed that they caused you to be angry. Keep smiling!

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