My side of the mountain: Travels to India, part one!

Hello all, sorry for the long delay in updates, it’s been a hectic six weeks of preparing to travel, traveling, and recovering from traveling. Nobody ever said this life was glamorous! So for those who don’t recall, I had about a month-long break from work where I traveled to four different countries – India, Sri Lanka, Greece, and then Turkey. I’ll be updating this in a couple segments over the next week or so to catch everyone up on what was memorable about each place. Of course, it’s been a month since I started traveling so I’ve already forgotten some things because keeping a journal while traveling would be too logical.

Leaving Bangladesh was a small gift onto itself. After being here for several months without the benefit of a fall break like my coworkers had (mine being spent in the hospital), I was so eager to get out and going someplace new. I had a short flight from Chittagong to Kolkata, and I arrived way too early thinking there might be traffic or some other kind of problem. Of course, I also flew out on a Friday morning (the day of prayers) so the roads were empty and I arrived in no time. Pro-tip for those traveling out of Bangladesh – plan your flights on the weekends when hartals don’t happen. Makes things a lot less stressful.

Well at the airport I was the only westerner. Everyone seemed to be Bangladeshi or Indian, which meant I stood out pretty clearly. This became super uncomfortable when the airport staff and security guards insisted on me cutting in every line to the front to be helped first. On one hand, wow, privilege much? On the other hand, I had been out with friends the night before and I was wiped, so I wasn’t keen to argue, “oh no, please, I’d much rather wait in this super long line than go and nap on the plastic benches over there.” So I succumbed to privilege and my white guilt still hasn’t recovered.

The flight to Kolkata was, no joke, on a propeller plane. It was like a scene straight from Indiana Jones, except instead of armed with a whip and leather hat, I had a massive backpack (thanks Minoli for letting me borrow yours!) and a ridiculous shawl. So almost the same thing.

The Victoria Memorial

I arrived in Kolkata and got a prepaid cab to my hostel close to the backpacker’s area of downtown Kolkata. Immediately after dumping my stuff I ran out to explore the world and was absolutely blown away. The streets were wide, shaded boulevards and traffic seemed to be following some sort of logical order. The smell was like a normal city smell, exhaust and people with occasional hints of green from the massive central park-like green space in the center of the city. The buildings were gorgeous too – my hostel was on the top floor of a colonial-style building from the 1860s and the wide staircase and old-fashioned crank elevator was after my own heart. First day I went and checked out the Victoria Memorial – a massive, gorgeous structure celebrating Queen Victoria who was also Queen of India (or something, not sure she was called queen) because, you know, colonialism. I read somewhere that were the Victoria Memorial built in dedication to an Indian person, it would be considered one of the wonders of India, but as it is it sort of serves as a gorgeous reminder of colonialism.

That being said, the grounds were well maintained and manicured, dotted with Indian couples on dates or families on picnics. It was extremely picturesque, and I was happy to hang around until after dark when I walked back to my hostel. The walk back was fine – it seemed a bit shady at parts but I never felt unsafe.

All the cabs in Kolkata were these cute little yellow cars.

The next day I walked back up to the cathedral that’s served Kolkata for over a century. It was neat, not the prettiest cathedral I saw in India but certainly a nice place to check out. I also went wandering around across town to see all the different churches, mosques, and synagogues that give Kolkata a really cosmopolitan feel.

Cathedral in Kolkata

The streets of Kolkata were wide and lined in some areas with European-style buildings.

One of the government buildings in Kolkata.

YUM

A smaller cathedral in Kolkata

Lassi is a yogurt-drink, and this place was the best I'd ever had.

I finished up my time in Kolkata checking out the old cemetery used by the British during colonial times, and it was definitely my favorite part of Kolkata and among my favorites on the whole trip. Massive old tombs were overrun with jungle greens, vines and moss, and time had clearly dealt an unsympathetic hand to some of the tomb’s preservations. But walking through and reading the histories of the men and women who arrived in India from the other side of the world with no natural resistance to the ridiculous amount of diseases and a crappy attitude towards adapting the much more comfortable Indian lifestyle to survive was quite interesting. What I mean by that last part is the insistence for the British to maintain their own style of dress, which meant women were literally dying in multi-layered and corseted dresses while the Indians were swathed in cooler cottons and less form-fitting styles. You really have to give credit to their stubbornness though. It took about a week for me after arriving in Bangladesh to give in and buy a much-cooler salwar kameez (long top and loose pants combo), and these women kept at the heavy clothes for years.

Fallen decoration in the cemetery.

That’s all besides the point though. Kolkata was amazing. I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I didn’t eat Indian food my entire time in Kolkata, minus the street food I snacked on throughout the day. Instead I chased after all the foods I had been desperately missing in Bangladesh. My first evening ended with me sitting in bed scarfing down a subway sandwich with a cold Kingfisher. Most of my meals followed the same pattern.

One of the paths through the cemetery.

And then it was time to move to Chennai! Coming from the airport was quite lovely – it was nighttime but in the lights of the taxi I was able to see tons of little motorbikes ahead of us. On the back of each of them it seemed, there was a woman in a colorful silk sari with her hair braided and threaded with flowers. This is one thing I noticed specifically in Southern India is that almost all women had garlands of flowers in their hair. It was fragrant and beautiful, especially since most women I saw also wore brightly colored silk saris. Perched on the back of the motorbikes they resembled a flock of colorful butterflies drifting together and apart with traffic. It was a lovely image.

I was psyched for Chennai because I was able to tap into my dad’s Marriott points and get two nights free. After living in Bangladesh and staying in a hostel in Kolkata, it was something to arrive and get first-class service at a nice business hotel. Big cushy bed, cable TV in English, access to the executive lounge (which includes all the free coffee, snacks, and alcohol one could want)… it was a good time for sure. I only had one full day in Kolkata before moving on, and I spent that day at San Thome Basilica and Kapaleeswarar Temple.

The basilica in Chennai

The Basilica was quite interesting – allegedly it was the site of Saint Thomas’ burial, you might know him as the Apostle that brought Christianity to India. Whether or not that’s true, it makes this a major pilgrimage site for many Catholics (at least, many Indian Catholics). After checking out the Basilica, I wandered onto the nearby beach, which was honestly not the greatest experience. Beyond the beach being incredibly dirty (a recurring theme over my trip), I ended up being hassled by a group of teenage boys, who went from jeering to get my attention to trying to flash themselves and grabbing at me, slapping my ass, etc. So that wasn’t winning any points for me. I was honestly spooked, the beach was mostly deserted and I didn’t know how rowdy these kids were going to get. After that I high-tailed it back into town and went to wait around the temple until it opened.

Inside the basilica, decorated for Christmas. Woman in sari was walking down the aisle.

Fun thing about Indian temples – they close for a few hours each afternoon for a lunch (and, I presume, a nap). That means a temple might be open from 6:00-12:00 and then close until 3:00-7:00 or so. Each temple can have different times, but that’s about what I found to be usual. I definitely had to restructure how I like to sight-see because most of the sights were closed in the afternoon during my preferred walking around time!

Boat on the beach of Chennai

Cat outside a temple in Chennai

Still the temple was quite nice. It happened to be the only temple I visited on my trip that wasn’t covered in scaffolding, which was especially nice. I was taken around by a temple guide because I don’t know how to say no, and was ashed up and dotted in the traditional way. According to the temple guide, white was meant to represent my mother, and red to my father, but that could be a poor translation and it was also a month ago, so take it with a grain of salt. What is interesting to learn is that different types of ash markings indicate different sects of Hinduism, like whether you are a Shiva worshipper specifically or another Hindu diety. Imagine this to be not dissimilar to affiliation with different Catholic Saints. Not quite the same idea, but that’s the best example I can think of to illustrate how different people have preference for specific gods within Hinduism.

Barefoot and dotted in the temple.

Anyways, the temple itself was lovely, brightly painted full of women in colorful saris laying out garlands of flowers and gifts of coconuts and other fruits at the different shrines. This temple specifically also had some holy temple cows, which had calves, all of whom were ADORABLE. I’m not ashamed to say I spent more time petting the baby cows than anything else I did that day. So cute.

The towers and statues on the temple. Each statue is hand-carved and is repainted every ten years or so.

On every corner of the buildings are these statues. On this you can see the detail, even though this was quite high up and realistically out of sight of the average worshipper.