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My first taxi
ride in India was anything but smooth. Before arriving, I had entertained
the belief that the traffic situation in India couldn't possibly be worse
than it was in China but never had I been more wrong. Thousands of
people on foot and in buses, taxis, rickshaws, trolleys, motorcycles, and
bicycles crowded the narrow streets. No one seemed to look where they were going and no one seemed to
care what anyone else was doing. As we headed into the city, I made
the disturbing observation that most of the vehicles on the road had
no side view mirrors. Despite this fact, vehicles darted in and out of lanes
almost as if the drivers had practiced the maneuvers beforehand and knew
exactly where everyone else was going to be without looking. At least
traffic was so congested in most areas that we couldn't go fast enough to get seriously
hurt if we did get into a wreck.
Once I
accustomed myself to the traffic situation, I began to pay more attention to
my surroundings and was fascinated to discover the presence of British
Colonial style architecture throughout the city. These buildings were relics
of British India in which Kolkata was established as its capital in 1772.
While independence from Britain was warmly embraced in India in the 20th
century, Indian people that I talked to on my trip acknowledged that the
British made many important contributions to India such as a Parliamentary
form of government and the framework for what would become an extensive
nationwide railway system. The presence of English signs on a majority of
the shops was another observation that I made which I supposed was a
testament to the lasting influence of British culture on this bustling city.
Much like the
traffic situation, the city itself seemed stuffy and crowded. The sidewalks
were full of men (I couldn't understand why there were no women!) who were
eating lunch and chatting amongst themselves. It was hot and the air
was saturated with exhaust fumes and the smell of street food as well as
other odors that I didn't quite recognize. Everywhere I looked everything
seemed to be in motion whether it was on the street or on the sidewalk. The
atmosphere was really a bit dizzying at the start but I knew that I would
have to quickly accustom myself to it if I wanted to enjoy myself in this
big country.
When I was
finally dropped off near the Foreign Tourist Bureau, I had to make my way
through throngs of people to reach the door. After buying my ticket and
paying 3 rupees to board a small ferry that would take me across the Hooghly
river to the Howrah Train Station, I sat down on a wooden bench and for the
first time that I can remember, I witnessed people bathing in public. In the
section of the river where I was, only men were in the river; the women were probably
further downstream. The bathing was done modestly as each man had something
to cover his lower half. Nevertheless, it was a strange sight for me to see
people washing themselves in the middle of the day and in the middle of a
large city. As I learned later, the Hooghly River is actually an extension
of the famous Ganges River, which is considered by Hindus to be the holiest
river in India.
Within a few
hours, I was on a train and headed to the holiest city in India; Varanasi.
However, even the
short time that I spent in Kolkata provided for me a good introduction to
the culture that I would see throughout much of the rest of my two weeks in India.
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