Into the Black Hole

Just after midnight, I arrived in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta - there seem to be a variety of spellings, so bear with me if I'm inconsistent). It ended up being a very long day of travel, with about 8 hours in Bangkok between relatively short flights. I still wasn't quite adjusted to Taipei time (I had a hard time staying awake past dinner - biologically, I'd made it about as far as Hawaii), so with my flight getting into Kolkata after midnight, that would be equivalent to after 3am in Taipei.

I managed to make fairly good use of my last night in Taipei. I wanted to see one of the oldest tourist traps there, Snake Alley. Unfortunately, Lonely Planet let me down in the map department (good thing I didn't buy their poorly written, $30 Taiwan book, and instead just spent 59 cents to copy everything useful out of the library's copy), so I had to guess based on a hand drawn map posted on another hostel's website. It at least told me which subway station to use, but there were no obvious signs once I got there. I decided to just explore in a widening spiral - eventually, I was bound to hit it.

Along the way I ran across Longshan Temple. I didn't know much about it beforehand, but it's clearly more of a Confucian temple than a Buddhist one (apparently most "Chinese" temples contain some combination of those two, plus Taoism - I use the quotes because this is true of places where the Chinese ended up, but not really true in China, where they were even harder on endemic religions than foreign ones). Anyway, the easy way to tell is that the Buddhas all have beards. The other dead give-away is the Spirit of Longevity guy - he has this enormous cranium, and seems to be pretty popular, at least for those who'd prefer to postpone death a bit. There were a lot of other crazy things going on that didn't look familiar based on Buddhist temples I'd seen in Japan and such. It almost reminded me of old Catholic cathedrals, with a couple dozen little chapels dedicated to various saints, and pilgrims visiting each one in turn to light a candle (or an incense stick, in this case). There were also huge tables of food everywhere, purchased from the temple shop, and bought for their ancestors (I think). Unfortunately, no pictures - it really didn't seem appropriate.

I also stumbled across another of Taipei's many underground malls. These aren't quite like the Canadian ones - probably built because it's easier to cool and the land is too expensive, rather than to avoid the Arctic winters. I found yet another Pearl Tea/Milk Tea place (or Bubble Tea, as a friend calls it). I at first thought these weren't all that common, despite being invented here, but then I realized that almost every restaurant specializes in them, complete with the whole heat sealed on plastic lid. The one in the mall seemed a bit fancier than most, with a big selection, all in Chinese. As the waiter seemed to speak English well, I didn't think this would be a problem, but he kept expecting me to just read my choice off the menu on the wall (in Japan, I'd usually avoid menu-on-the-wall places, since you can't even get food by pointing at random like you can when you can touch the menu). Finally, I just said "the first one". And he replies, "Ah, excellent choice. That one's very popular." Yeah, that's why I chose it so carefully!

After another hour of wandering, I finally found a covered street labeled "tourist night market". That must be the spot. There were 3 or 4 remaining snake restaurants - places where they'll slice open a live cobra to extract its bile from a gland (only a few drops from a whole cobra). I'm sure it's good for something, but it mostly seems to be a horror show thing for tourists (the restaurants have video tapes of the procedure playing - real cobras are too expensive unless they have a paying customer). One of them did have a live cobra slithering around the floor, a few feet away. Perhaps it had its venom sacks removed? The others at least kept them in cages, or preserved in jars of what looked like formaldehyde. Every shop had a big "no pictures" sign in multiple languages, and an enforcer standing by.

What really got me, though, was the place that made turtle soup. There were lots of places with live fish, in more varieties than I'd ever seen at a restaurant, but only one had live turtles. They had one guy hanging head down, suspended through a hole at the back of its shell, barely an inch above a place of fresh sliced (and mostly not twitching) pieces of his friends. He was squirming, trying to get away, and drawing quite a crowd. But there was nothing he could do. I'm not even sure if this one was for eating - he might just be the designated squirmer.

Needless to say, that did it for my appetite for a while. I eventually resorted to trying a "drumstick burger" at the McDonald's across from the hostel. This turns out to be all dark meat, focusing on all the interesting bits of the chicken that the Chinese love so well (you won't be seeing this in your neighborhood anytime soon). It is pretty much what you'd expect for a boneless drumstick, though. I'll take my all-white-meat chicken breast, thanks. It may be dry, but that's what mayo is for.

After a relaxing morning (my flight wasn't until after 1pm, and my body wakes up way before then!), I headed off for Bangkok. They were still very confused by my food choice - I'd selected the "Oriental Meal", after getting screwed on a few flights to Tokyo (all the Japanese folks got excellent Japanese food, and we got normal airline food). Apparently this option is only available online, and they really don't know what to do with this request. "But all our food is, by definition, Oriental!" protested the agent at SFO. Then don't give us the option! It ended up being the most Asian-seeming dish, usually the fish. And, they'd always give me an extra serving of fresh fruit for dessert, instead of the usual weird cake thing (fruit is a more typical dessert, and was tastiest part of the meal). The best part, though, is you get served first on the plane, even before 1st class, I think. An hour later, the guy next to me finally gets his food. Next time, check the box. Any box.

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with my 8 hours in Bangkok. This was mostly due to uncertainty over how my manual flight connection was going to work. I'd bought separate tickets from different airlines (SFO->TPE->BKK was on, BKK->CCU was another). This means your bags don't get checked through, and you probably have to go through customs and such. It also means that if one flight is late, you're on your own for fixing the other. However, for a nearly $1000 savings for what I wanted to do, it was worth the risk (the rebooking fee was less than $10 if I blew it, anyway, and Thailand wouldn't be the worst place to be stuck).

I did manage to get them to take my bag early, avoiding having to pay to store it (or worse yet, wear it the whole time). Normally they won't let you checkin more than a couple hours before your flight, but they were a little confused due to an earlier Kolkata flight. It was supposed to have left before mine arrived, but had been delayed several hours. I tried to talk my way onto it, but the otherwise friendly Thai Airlines agent put it "Maybe some airlines can do things like that."

Though it was a nice, if crowded airport (they even had a Dairy Queen!), I decided to head into town. It was supposedly less than 20 miles away, and the train station was just outside the terminal. Unfortunately, train service in Thailand seems rather laid back. The trip into town takes anywhere between 45 and 90 minutes. The tickets are good for departures anywhere within an hour window, since that's as close as they can estimate. So, despite having gobs of time, and already being checked in, I decided to wander back to the airport after only a few minutes downtown. Plus, the train station was in kind of a sketchy neighborhood (as they tend to be), and I wasn't having much luck finding a better one.

Bangkok Airport also turns out to be one of those busy international ones where flights don't get assigned to a gate until shortly before takeoff. Since mine was departing right after a big wave of departures, there wasn't even room for it on the monitors until after it was supposed to start boarding (and you still have to clear security and such after that - you don't know which security checkpoint to go through until your flight is on the monitor). So, I joined the masses walking from one end of the terminal to the other. Lots of stuff to look at, but really noplace to sit, unless you had Emerald Platinum Super Elite status, or whatever.

Shortly before leaving, I was skimming my Thailand guidebook, and it tried to reassure you that "unlike most places, you can arrive in Bangkok anytime of the night and get into the hostel/hotel of your choice, easily get a taxi, etc.", since most flights arrive there at odd hours. Which of course got me to thinking "unlike most places?" Sure enough, they warn that in Kolkata, anything below a 4-star hotel locks their doors before 11pm, unless you warn them first. So, I frantically tried calling hostels in Kolkata from the Bangkok airport (it's around 10pm in Kolkata at this point). Finally one answers, and he agrees to stay up past 1am for me (I'm not realizing just how long it will take the one and only baggage handler to unload a full jumbo jet by himself).

Sometime way past 2am, I'm finally getting into a cab (LP has a good recommendation - use the prepaid taxi desk, so you don't get screwed by drivers, who never seem to have a working meter). I'm feeling pretty good about getting rid of the guy who "helped" me find my cab for only a buck. This is probably highway robbery by local standards, but I'm also in a good mood just for finally getting my pack (I'd almost given up on it, after a couple hours of a half dozen bags showing up every 10 minutes, and the place eventually emptying out).

The driver, of course, senses someone who's good for a little extra (I'd just given someone a day's wages to go away, afterall). So I start hearing about his failing health, and about how a mere $20 US tip would make his night and he could go home, how the hotel I'm asking to go to isn't open, etc. (all the standard lines they warn you about). Conversation continued something like this:

Me: That's 5 times the cab fare. That's insane! I'll give you what I gave him, $1.
Him: At least $10!
Me: There's another cab there. If you're not willing to take me for the fare I already paid, let me out now.
Him: I'll drive really fast and get you there sooner! That should be worth at least $5, right?
(he proceeds to lay on his horn constantly, and starts driving exclusively on the right side of the road, which is certainly not the right side to be on, with all the big trucks on the road this time of night!).
Me: OK, OK, $2 tip, but please slow down!

Once we started getting into town, things got quite surreal. I'm kind of at a loss how to describe it. "Post-apocalyptic, but they're trying" might come close. What really gave it the "Don't stop, or the zombies will get us" feel were the bodies that lined the sidewalks. Presumably most of them are now moving, but none of them even twitched as we went by, despite the horn. Just mostly naked bodies by the hundreds, uncovered on the sides of the street.

Finally, I see the sign of the Tourist Inn, but there are no signs of light inside, and the door is thoroughly barracaded (it's now several hours later than I'd said). However, my cabbie is now quite cheerful and helpful (he'd just gotten $2, afterall!), and introduces me to one of the 4 cabbies that lives in his car in front of this place (clearly the one with the highest duct tape to paint ratio, but he doesn't seem to mind getting woken up). He knows the guy inside (night manager?), and proceeds to pound on the door and starts yelling for him by name. The guy inside finally responds, but it takes some discussion in Bengali to get him to come down the 4 flights.

I'm in, and again realizing how lucky I am to even have a room this time of night. The LP briefly describes it thus: "this no-frills option is popular with long-term volunteers from Japan and Europe" I'm a little worried what no-frills might mean in Kolkata, but I'm a cheap bastard, and a bed's a bed - I can always upgrade tomorrow. Though primitive, it's got all the basics covered:

• Door that locks securely (bolt on inside, big old padlock for the outside - in theory, even the owner can't get in when you're out).
• Massive ceiling fan that goes all the way to Category V (or at least, position V). Very important, even for what passes as the cool time of year here (remember, the locals were sleeping naked in the street).
• At least one of the two beds in my room (they were out of singles) doesn't have the sweaty outline of the body that just vacated it. Only need one bed!
• A Western-style toilet down the hall - an unlikely bonus at this price range.
• Bars on the window. Though on the 4th floor, can't take that for granted. Might even keep some of the bigger mosquitoes out.
• Good shower (no hot water, but you only get that at the fancy places, and cold water isn't all that cold here).
• The larger rat holes have been recently plugged.
  

Just after settling into the room, the night manager guy knocks on my door, and has a big bottle of water for me. Thinking that this is a little like the $5 bottles they leave in your room in the US (especially when they have really bad tasting water), I offer him a tiny bit of money as thanks (since I'd woken him up in the middle of the night too), and he reluctantly takes it, apologizing for not having change. I'd been desperate for more water, having finished off my reserve on the plane, and not finding anything open at the Kolkata airport.

Then I notice there's no seal on the bottle. Having gotten sick from locally resealed bottled water in Syria, I'm understandably a little nervous to take a sip. For about 1 second. I can either die of thirst, or get dysentery. The latter would solve a certain pressing problem anyway, so the choice is easy! Come morning, I find that they have a really fancy drinking water purifier (name is something like Euro2000, and it has blinky lights, so you know it must be good). It tastes even better now.

Today I managed to sleep in past 9, without waking at all during the night. Exhaustion probably helped, but it's really a pretty good bed. Anyway, seems like a good spot. I don't feel the need to try someplace else, for as long as I'm in Kolkata. I wouldn't want to live here long term (the hostel or Kolkata), but both are much nicer than I expected.

After paying for my first two nights, I set off exploring Kolkata on foot at random, as I usually do when I arrive in a new city. After getting a few blocks from the hostel, the hassles mostly melted away (no more "Hello sir!", or "Hello my friend, come see my shop!"). Navigating the chaotic intersections took almost no effort - I just stick with my old rule of keeping the locals between me and the traffic, and just go with the flow.

The spectacle of it all was amazing. I unfortunately don't have any photos yet - still getting up my nerve to go camera crazy in the midst of this (as long as I'm away from the tourist quarter, it probably won't arouse too much attention), so you'll have to use your imagination a bit.

This was the capital of British India from the 1600s until 1912 (when the fighting for independence forced them to relocated to New Delhi). So, imagine lots of massive British colonial buildings from 200+ years ago, crumbling, some with trees growing through, others with attempts at restoration starting. Then imagine the wide sidewalks filled with stalls on both sides of each sidewalk, selling everything imaginable (fruits and vegetables carried in on people's heads, all the way to new Sony Vaios).

They manage to set up whole portable kitchens on the sidewalk, complete with Tandoori ovens. I tried a couple of them today - one had a wide range of Indian vegetarian food (motto should be something like, "there are less ways for vegetarian food to kill you" - you can be somewhat less cautious when you avoid local meat). As usual around here, if you stand around looking confused long enough, an English speaker will step up to explain things to you. The guy wouldn't let me order anything spicy, because he didn't think I could handle it (he's probably right, by local standards), but he was very helpful. A similarly kind stranger sorted me out getting fresh orange and pomegranate juice.

Finding my way back to my neighborhood here was trivial, even though I didn't follow my usual precaution of taking a GPS reading at my hostel (it sounds silly, but saves you from getting lost, or even having to keep your nose in a map). Here, though, there are a thousand vivid experiences around every corner, and retracing all of my random turns was trivial.

Anyway, the rain appears to have stopped, so time to get off the net. I'll at least try to upload a few photos before I leave Kolkata - Internet access here is excellent, but that's less likely as I head into the Himalayas. Tomorrow, the Sikkim government permit office should be open, and I can also start trying to wrap my head around the Indian government train system - they're the worlds largest employer, and have the complexity to prove it. So, I'll most likely be heading on by Monday, unless the big annual festival here is still going on, but I think it's winding down (I don't quite get it either - has something to do with making clay statues and putting them in the river):

http://www.durgapujas.com/

Oh, finally, a few folks have asked about how to use the RSS feed. Apparently I need to update my template to include the link, but for now, here's what you'll need to paste in:

http://kblarson.blogspot.com/atom.xml