Kolkata, pathos and trickery of the poor.

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I leave Kolkata tonight on the train for New Jalpaiguri, to reach Darjeeling.

Kolkata has been a mixed experience for me. The first thing to mention is the extreme poverty, though I gather that has been improved in the last few years (in the central district, anyhow).

The hotel's driver met me at the airport and wordlessly led me to the car. There, an old woman with a cane immediately intervened herself between the door and myself, asking for money. I didn't give it. I have barely given any money away here, on the street, because I've found it so confusing about how to judge things (see the title). I'm planning to make a donation to a charity which does verify as being trustworthy upon my return, though.

I should also say that none of the photographs attach represent the truly difficult areas of Kolkata life. It felt wrong to photograph abject human suffering, though the photographs might indicate the condition of the city.

The drive into the city took 45 minutes. The terrain was desolate, with highrise buildings jutting up from miles of dry fields, shacks, and starving cattle. It was extremely hot (probably high 30s). The driver finally warmed to me, near the end of the journey, and mentioned one or two things about the city.

My hotel was in the central district, The Hotel VIP Intercontinental. I'm not sure that I'd recommend it. Accommodation standards drop in Kolkata, which I was prepared for, but I was fleeced once or twice by the staff, who were, at other times, quite lovely. Which leads me to the prevailing point I have about Kolkata; it's very hard to comprehend how people are affected by poverty with first world eyes.

The city itself is remarkably poor. Park Street is the showpiece, and has a sense of old British grandeur, but all other streets are lined with the homeless, and the usual refuse which comes with Indian street life - garbage, excrement, stray animals, flies, etc.. The streets themselves are populated by the same small businesses I saw in Mumbai, but are often uneven, with dips and rises, at times turning into a shelters for people to live in, and laneways run off them, holding even more shack businesses and families living on the street, animals with them. It's not uncommon, for example, to pass a street corner of an evening and see three or four infant children lying on a blanket on the ground and giggling with each other before falling asleep by themselves. In the immediacy of poverty their seems to be a revelation about the basics of human life, some of which is quite beautiful.

If there is something about poverty which provokes pathos from people, there is another which provokes the necessity of theft, or greed, or trickery. There were many lovely people here, but also many who behaved quite badly toward me.

One example, I had to buy a belt, (I'm dropping weight walking in this heat; dry, and easily high 30s Celsius). There is a bazaar in the centre of the city, north of Park Street, which is both amazing and offputting. As a foreigner you are constantly targeted and pursued, and people won't take 'no, thank you' the first, second, or even third time. I finally learnt to be very forceful and raise my hands in a cross fashion, which would send them away.

At any rate, the stall vendor priced the belt at 450 rupees. It's a lovely belt, but the locals are shameless about overcharging. I said 'no' and turned away, and then he wanted to bargain. I told him I thought 250 rupees. He shook his head, and I turned to go, then he smiled and said 'okay'. He put the belt in a bag and handed it over when I handed him the money, he then took grip of the money, refused to release the belt, and said 'Another 30 rupees' then grinned at me, as though daring me to do anything. I told him the deal was off, though he wouldn't release the money, and it was threatening to tear, nor would he let the belt go, so I ended up ripping the belt out of his hands and walking away hurriedly lest someone pursue me.

That's the worst experience, though I've had numerous occasions of other's trying to dupe me, or even approach me with a mixture of wanting to be friendly but expecting me to give them money. Some have posed as Unicef workers for impoverished children in the slums. Others have been unemployed software engineers. It rapidly made me quite hard about thinking to help people, and I probably could have been more generous than I was to the people who really needed money here.

Yet I've also met some very warm moments of human contact. One afternoon I went out and took photographs of some of the slums and the bazaars. It always feels like quite a risk to do such a thing here, as it immediately draws attention to yourself, and I wished I could have walked through many of the bazaars and photographed most of them, as there are truly unique combinations of colours, shades, arrays of goods, livestock, etc..

At any rate, a group of school children became fascinated by my digital camera, and were ecstatic when I took their photograph, insisting I take photographs of their friends. They were quite disappointed when I explained that I couldn't give them my own photograph. Nor is it just the children, I've encountered some very poor but excellently humoured men and women living on the streets, often attracted by the camera.

One difficult thing about Kolkata is that it's much like Mumbai, except without the rich resting points where tourists can take moments away from the challenge of negotiating the streets. For the first two days here, I could only really relax in the hotel room. The Oxford Book Store on Park Street became another refuge.

Then there was, of course, the fire on Park Street, which I've already blogged about.

One final thing which has annoyed me is the backpacking culture of tourists wanting to live like the poor here. I spoke about it with another Australian at The Blue Sky Cafe who agreed with me. It is not uncommon to be walking through an alleyway of extreme poverty and see a small group of Westerners (most often Australians) sitting with the homeless and emulating them; they cut their hair roughly, eat the same food, sit in the dirty street, hold their babies, ape their mannerisms in how the sit, move, etc.. I find this act extremely patronizing, as the visitors are clearly instrumentalizing the lifestyle of the poor to achieve their own ideal identity, but may, of course, step away from their game whenever they wish.

I was glad that I visited, in many ways it's been my favourite destination so far, as it is intensely panoramic of something human, pathos, the aspects of human nature brought to the fore by the struggle for the basics of life ... One favourite thing was waking in the early morning, at 5 am, and hearing a Muslim man sing the morning prayer and, again, hearing him sing it in the early evening. My hotel room was quite rough, and it was somehow an improving aspect to hear the song one or two houses away, especially while showering the dirt of the streets away in cold water.

This was a rather rushed blog. My hotel in Darjeeling will have wifi, and I hope to spend more time there. I plan to spend 5 days in Varanasi, after I get through with Darjeeling and Sikkim (probably Gangtok). I've been through three cities in 7 days, so far, and will have to slow down at some stage.

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Photos

Kolkata central, 2 boys
2 boys noticed me with a digital camera and were fascinated with it.

Meal at Teej's
Absolutely brilliant meal of thalis. Had begun devouring it then realized it deserved a photograph. I was able to have an unlimited amount of anything on the plate for the original purchase price of around $9 AUD.