Someone out there loves my feet

Yup, finally met someone that looooves my feet. A lot. So much she had to touch them and then put henna on them. She, a lovely Korean girl at the Paragon Hostel in Kolkata, was adorable and mostly drunk in the evenings. Thanks to her both my feet and one hand sport flowery henna designs. Henna is hot. Not to most other travellers I met but to hell with all of them. I absolutely adore it. She was going to put the Om sign on the back of my neck but then Varanasi happened and I didn't want any religious sign on my body especially because I plan to visit Kashmir in the next couple of weeks.

The news of Varanasi hit Kolkata around 6:30pm when most tourists were back at the hostel from their day of volunteering or sightseeing. The area most of the hostels are located near Sudder Street is predominately Muslim so police presence was increased on the streets and at major intersections. India went on high alert. Holi is less than a week away and more attacks are feared but worse yet, religous riots could ensue much as they did four years ago in the Gujarat. The papers were filled with the outcome of a high profile case of years ago in which 14 people were burnt alive inside a bakery in Ahmahabad during rioting. So far three or four suspected terrorists have been killed.

So, completely oblivious (I blame the heat) I went about sightseeing temples one day after the attacks as police officers watched in disbelieve that a tourist actually showed up to look at the places of worship. I spent much of Tuesday visiting Belur Math (the Krishna temple complex) and Kali Ghat across the river. It didn't really click that Tuesday was a big Hindu worshipping day in India. The bomb squads at the temples should have been a clue... or the fact that the crowds were much smaller than what I had encountered previously.

Asking for directions to the temples was also a unique experience. People were surprised and then very, very helpful in making sure I find my way. The Kolkata transportation system is extensive and I used most of it trying to get to the sights. The buses don't really stop at any one stop and I saw people waving them down. So, I went and stood next to a huddle of people that looked like they were not waiting to cross the street and therefore waiting for a bus. A very nice group of students got me on the bus and paid for my ticket and then made sure I got on my connection. Leaving the peacefully quiet Belur Math complex an older man led me through a maze of lanes to the river where I caught a boat across to the Kali temple. Then came the biggest challenge of the day: a local train. The kind of train that people are piled into so tight that they are hanging out the doors...just like in the picture above.


One of the most beautiful palaces and worth every bit of the 'payoff' to enter was the Marble Palace, tucked away in a lively lane off J Mohan Avenue. Getting in was a bit of a situation as the guidebook had listed it as a free site but then the guard at the door made it clear that unless I had a special letter of permission I was not going to get past him. Hence, 30 rupees for the guard at the gate and I was greeted by two large storkes for free but then I had to pay 30 rupees to the man that gave me a tour. The tour consisted of this guy pointing at the floor and saying "all this Italian marble" or at a sculpture "Queen Victoria made of one piece of oak" or at a huge mirror "one piece of Belgian glass". The big wooden Victoria and the gigantic facing Belgian mirrors at either end of a marvelously decorated hall were amazing. The palace itself has a great charm which is mostly due to the fact that it looks like no one paid to clean the stone structure. Not like the palaces of Europe that are splendidly kept up and become quite devoid of any kind of spirit. What's great about the Marble Palace is that it looks like someone threw sheets on the furniture a century ago before going on a trip and never returned. They didn't forget to pay the gardener though because the grounds are well maintained. The glass chandeliers (that's Belgian glass) hang dusty over marble floored rooms filled with large oil canvases (a Ruben among them).


Calcutta, like Kerala, has an elected Communist government

Walking back at dusk down the lanes here I am surprised every time I encounter one of the rickshaw-wallahs pulling big-boned sari clad Indian ladies and their umbrellas to nearby destinations. It's such a unique sight but yet so fitting in this part of the world.