25 May 2016
I'm struggling to start this post, because I don't have a vocabulary adequate to describe this modestly complex city. I'd prefer to show pictures, but sadly I don't take pictures, and even those would fail to show what I see when I look at the very same landscape as the photographer. So, I'm stuck with words, but I'll do my best.
We stay in a quiet hostel, where we eat our meals, and recover from our mornings volunteering at Mother Teresa's homes. It's a nice place, and essential to our sanity and well-being. As soon as we walk out the gate onto the street, everything changes. We're greeted with the daily symphony of tuk tuk and taxi horns, and overwhelming smells. Within seconds of exiting the gate, we too become a part of the pandemonium. We walk rapidly, and cross the streets with a little aggression, as one must. Pedestrians seldom heed the warning of oncoming vehicles, unphased as a motorcycle flies by with centimeters to spare. From time to time we'll catch a tuk tuk to take us to where we're going. Whether it's tricked out, blasting Indian club music, or bare bones simple, the tuk tuk joins the perpetual race to anywhere that is Kolkata traffic. Weaving in and out of larger vehicles and inferior tuk tuk's, the driver is determined to get us to our stop, and pick up the next person.
On our way to Prem Dan, the house that I volunteer at along with Andie and Richard, we eventually come to a railroad crossing. The traffic halts ever so briefly as a train passes. As the last car goes by, it reveals a micro community centered around Park Circus Station. We do not cross the tracks here--we turn and join the people who are walking on and along them as a part of their morning commute. Vendors have set up shop on the boarding platform, next to those trying to catch just a bit more sleep from the past night. Between the tracks and a wall that separates the station from small, tightly packed homes, children play cricket, and men wash themselves to begin the day. There are dogs searching for food, competing with crows that have the advantage of flight. As we continue our walk towards Prem Dan, we're approached by women and children asking for food or money. Some are in genuine need, others have ill intent.
Despite the mayhem, and dark things that I observe, I can't help but see beauty in this city, and the people in it.
--Nick
I'm struggling to start this post, because I don't have a vocabulary adequate to describe this modestly complex city. I'd prefer to show pictures, but sadly I don't take pictures, and even those would fail to show what I see when I look at the very same landscape as the photographer. So, I'm stuck with words, but I'll do my best.
We stay in a quiet hostel, where we eat our meals, and recover from our mornings volunteering at Mother Teresa's homes. It's a nice place, and essential to our sanity and well-being. As soon as we walk out the gate onto the street, everything changes. We're greeted with the daily symphony of tuk tuk and taxi horns, and overwhelming smells. Within seconds of exiting the gate, we too become a part of the pandemonium. We walk rapidly, and cross the streets with a little aggression, as one must. Pedestrians seldom heed the warning of oncoming vehicles, unphased as a motorcycle flies by with centimeters to spare. From time to time we'll catch a tuk tuk to take us to where we're going. Whether it's tricked out, blasting Indian club music, or bare bones simple, the tuk tuk joins the perpetual race to anywhere that is Kolkata traffic. Weaving in and out of larger vehicles and inferior tuk tuk's, the driver is determined to get us to our stop, and pick up the next person.
On our way to Prem Dan, the house that I volunteer at along with Andie and Richard, we eventually come to a railroad crossing. The traffic halts ever so briefly as a train passes. As the last car goes by, it reveals a micro community centered around Park Circus Station. We do not cross the tracks here--we turn and join the people who are walking on and along them as a part of their morning commute. Vendors have set up shop on the boarding platform, next to those trying to catch just a bit more sleep from the past night. Between the tracks and a wall that separates the station from small, tightly packed homes, children play cricket, and men wash themselves to begin the day. There are dogs searching for food, competing with crows that have the advantage of flight. As we continue our walk towards Prem Dan, we're approached by women and children asking for food or money. Some are in genuine need, others have ill intent.
Despite the mayhem, and dark things that I observe, I can't help but see beauty in this city, and the people in it.
--Nick
There is something so wonderful about the rickshaw. It feels so unsafe while at the same time so comforting to be in a moving vehicle and getting to your destination quickly, as the breeze sometimes cools down your sweat. I love this post. Thank you for writing. Keep your compassion and empowerment up to support yourself and your group during this trip!
ReplyDeleteWell done, Nick! This was super enjoyable to read!
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