Tourist Sights/Sites!

Everyone needs one of these studying-abroad balcony pics

Can you believe it? I’ve now been in India for over a month, with exactly one month to go! I feel like I say this all the time, but it’s insane how fast time flies.

Clearly I’ve not been diligent with my blogging over the past few weeks, so rather than chronologically, I’ll order the next few posts thematically. This week’s theme? Perhaps the most daunting to record: tourist and/or historical sites that I’ve visited over the past few weeks. I’ll try my best to keep it snappy though. 

Sajjangarh

Sajjangarh Fort [Jan. 18]: It’s one of the former ruler’s forts during monsoon season. Situated on a hill (as most things are around here, as Udaipur is situated in a valley between mountains), it is worth the terrifying drive up [read: rushed drivers speeding through hairpin turns at breakneck speeds]. Why? The view alone is worth it – it’s GORGEOUS (I now realize these beautiful mountaintop views are not in short supply around here – I’m so lucky!).

This particular fort palace was cool because it was a few stories tall, which meant it had quite a few rooms with great views. I can’t even imagine how people lived there.

Fateh Sagar [every few days!]: Just one of Udaipur’s lakes, this is located a 15-minute walk away from our school. It’s a pretty place to just walk around or, as we had the privilege of finding out one day, boating through. There’s a small island garden located in the center of the lake, which itself isn’t particularly stunning. (But that’s the point, right? While you’re there, you don’t look at the garden, you look out at everything around the lake!) Anyway, near the lake is a cool little hangout spot that reminds me of something out of Lake George, NY – food vendors and people lounging out around the lake. We like it because it’s one of the few places nearby where you can get good cold coffee and listen to the sweet sounds of Justin Beiber (because the coffee stall owners blast about 5 American tunes when they see us approaching). 

Chittorgarh [Jan. 21]: This fort was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Half in ruins, it has such history – somewhat romantic, somewhat gruesome (but hey, what love story isn’t, right?) As I understand it, an invading Muslim force's army commander was crazy about the in-house princess at the time. Long story short, there were some pretty intense battles that resulted in several thousand women jumping into a fire rather than be taken by the invading soldiers in order to protect their innocence. It sprawls across several kilometers of land and contains a number of palaces (one for ladies, one for gents; both for monkeys and dogs of course) and a well-preserved tower. The tower was an awesome climb up – although similar to the one I climbed up with a cousin in Poland last summer, it was much more haphazardly constructed. All the stairs, marble cutouts, were of different heights and widths. Some stairwells were so dark, you basically resorted to crossing your fingers and hoping for the best on the way up/down. The ceilings in other stairwells were so low, you had to sort of crawl your way through. Again, it was worth the adventure up for bragging rights, if for nothing else. Situated on its own little late, the queen’s palace was gorgeous.

 Kumbhalgarh [Feb. 5]: Yes, another fort. But it’s particularly notable because it’s the second-longest length of wall in the world (after the Great Wall of China, of course – going there at some point too!) This place is crawling with them because Rajasthan (the Northwestern Indian state where my host city, Udaipur, is located) was a princely state (in that it was ruled by regional rulers) until fairly recently in the country’s history. The Rajputs, a specific caste that’s still located in the area, were those rulers. Anyway, this was honestly one of my favorite sight-seeing days thus far. A smaller group of us went out, had a great lunch (what a great naan moment that was!), and then stopped by the fort.

As with the other forts, it was built on a hill because that’s the smart thing to do strategically – then you’ve got the upper hand on your enemies (literally).  Upon climbing the road up the fort, we then climbed some more up some of the scariest stairs I’ve ever attempted to scale. Apparently they ran out of money before they thought to install rails on these things. As with the other old forts like this, some areas were more akin to ruins, while some were well-preserved. Either way, you feel like you’ve just stepped out of a time machine when you walk around this place.

City Palace [Feb. 12]: Well, pretty self-explanatory – a palace in the city. It’s the home of the local royal family (once actual rulers, now merely figureheads). It was somehow comforting to visit a museum after all those forts and this museum was a lot less stressful inside than the Victoria Memorial in Kolkata. Because this palace is not that old comparatively (although construction started in the 1500s, it had continuously been renovated into the 1900s), it has some pretty well-preserved architectural and design elements. It was funny too see these eclectic elements – including blue and white floral British tiles and colorful Swiss mirrors – all together in one place. 

 

Lake Palace [Feb. 12]: Located in (yes IN) Lake Pichola, this place apparently continues to remain very well-guarded [aka exclusive] because you can’t get in unless you have the right connections. Bummer. However, we did go on another boatride around this lake, so as far as I’m concerned, we saw Lake Palace. (When I retell this story back home, I’ll tell people we managed to sneak in or something.)

 

Cable car Ride [Feb. 12]: Okay, this is not so much a tourist site as it is a tourist sight! We rode cable cars up to the top of one of the hills near Lake Pichola. As I’ve said before – and I’m sure I’ll say again – WHAT A SIGHT! You look out over the lake and, with the mountains in the background, it was very reminiscent of the sight from the top of one of the hills in St. Thomas, strangely enough. This experience was a good reminder of two things I’ve already learned in the past: (1) That, although I’m no physics expert, I’m convinced cable cars defy every law out there and (2) That you should always take care to charge your camera battery before such excursions. My battery ran out just as I reached the top – I was only able to snap one or two shots! However, I’m sure it was for the best because it required me to just enjoy the view and I need to be reminded to do that every once in a while.  

 

Okay, well, that’s all I’ve got on sightseeing updates so far. You can bet there will be more to come about some more interesting topics – including cultural observations and village life – in the near future! Until then, we’re in Ahmedabad – the capital city of the local state of Gujarat – on a field trip!

So Long, Farewell...

Tom and Jerry also stopped by during my flight - clearly I
was conflicted!

...Auf wiedersehen, namaskār. (Okay, I could probably get away with saying goodbye - everyone here would understand that.) Anyway, long story short, this next blog post is about my transition into my time with my Duke University Global Semester Abroad program and thus, saying goodbye to Calcutta - featuring an oh-so-appropriate title because "The Sound of Music" was one of the in-flight movie options on my flight from Kolkata to Delhi.
Anywho, I was sad to have to pack up and leave Calcutta just when I had gotten accustomed to the work I was doing there. I met lots of great people from all over the U.S. and world that were visiting the city to work with the Missionaries of Charity or various NGOs around the city, including lots of college kids (particularly from New Zealand, interestingly enough). There was never a dull meal at my guesthouse!
Nevertheless, the 16th of January rolled around and I had to pack up and leave. Thankfully, my cab ride and wait at the airport were non-eventful, particularly because I left SO early just in case of delay. However, during my flight, I was seated next to two very young sisters, the younger of which wouldn't stop talking to me in Hindi! The poor thing didn't realize I didn't understand a word she was saying and continued to poke me and say, "Didi! Didi!" (Even worse: I later found out "didi" is basically the equivalent of calling someone your older sister in Hindi...)
After some time spent searching for the people from my program that were hired to meet us at the airport in Delhi, I ended up calling them to ask where they were waiting. They hurriedly told me that they were by Door 3, waiting in Duke colors and hung up. Just then, I came to a horrible realization - I had NO CLUE what Duke colors were, having been a Villanovan myself. While racking my brain for any memory of the website, thankfully I spotted a few Indians covered in gear that screamed "Duke!"
By the time dinner rolled around, I had met most of the people in my program - most are Dukeians (Dukies? Dukish?), all are great. We spent the next day-and-a-half touring some of the more notable sites in Delhi. First up on our list: Humayun's Tomb. It's this great big old memorial built around a tomb, the Taj Mahal's predecessor. Too bad it was so misty and chilly that morning - although not nearly the coldest morning this Indian winter, that certainly was the closest it came to raining here (it pretty much rains only during the monsoon season in July-September in the Northern half of the country).
In general around here, it's cool to see the various symbols that appear everywhere. We were told that the lotus symbolizes Hinduism, and apparently what I normally call the Star of David is also a Hindu symbol. Its two intersecting triangles, one for males and the other for females, represents creation.
Interesting fact of the week: If you didn't already know, the swastika predates Nazi Germany and was first used in ancient Indian civilizations. It is said to invoke the Hindu god Ganesha, so you literally see it painted everywhere here - on signs, stores, and houses. It's shocking at first, but you just have to disassociate it with Nazism [in addition to being quite a number of other things, those Nazis were also apparently symbol-stealers].
Also cool: You see a lot of Arabic - more than I expected, at least - around here because of this area's rocky history with Muslim invaders. For example, we made it out to an old Muslim mosque, complete with its own absurdly tall minaret while touring Delhi. The mosque area had absolutely amazing - and amazingly well-preserved - pillars, each with its own detailed carvings. What a great opportunity for a cheesy photo opp!
So after all that touring, we ended up on an overnight train to Udaipur. What an experience that was!...
To Be Continued...

Window seat in our hotel room on the first night in Udaipur

Jagdish Temple in Old City - the landmark we use to describe
where everything is!

Udaipur street

13 American girls shopping for kurti in Old City on our first
night - craziness!

The final word... for now...

So although it feels like it has been ages since I left Kolkata (when, in fact, it has been about 11 days), I have a few more things to say about it now that I've had some time to process:
Poverty is, for lack of a better term, rampant in Kolkata. It is an indisputable and undeniable fact that hits you in the face every time you step onto the street in that city. This is not something I note lightly - it weighs heavily on my heart, especially because foreigners are generally not advised to give to beggars for a few reasons. I heard from a few sources that some beggars in and around touristy areas of the city are part of "begging rings": organized begging schemes in which beggars report to - and pay - higher-ups as they earn money. Reportedly, children are recruited from surrounding slums and villages to help assist beggars and add an element of pity to the begging process. (It is commonplace for village children to migrate to cities to work long hours in nearby cities, whether voluntarily or otherwise, in India.) So, foreigners are urged even by locals not to give to beggars for a few reasons: to avoid supporting organized begging rings, to avoid encouraging begging in general, and for their personal safety.

That being said, a hungry child is still a hungry child. Turning those children away does not make you feel good that at least you're not supporting organized begging. The fact remains that a vast majority of those people on Calcutta streets would not, and do not, willingly choose to sleep there even on the coldest nights of the Indian winter. For the masses, begging is not a lucrative career option - it is the only choice left in a system that fails to provide effective ways to give people a boost when they most need it. Despite the assistance provided by India's Rural Employment Guarantee Act, which guarantees any rural worker 100 days of government wage labor, there are still 265 days left in a year. There are still urban families that live on the streets - and women that work them - that continue to remain in the vicious cycle of poverty for lack of solid options to work their way out of it.

So I am confronted again and again with the question of forsaking the individual person in need in favor of not supporting a system of organized begging. And again and again, I am left with only one thought - we need to redirect our attention on addressing systemic problems that force people into circumstances that make begging a viable option for survival. Hopefully my studies this semester will help me sort out some of these issues.

So those are my final thoughts on Calcutta... for now.

My first week: Calcutta

Whew! My first week in India is officially over. What a week it has been!

I finished out my time in Calcutta. Since I last posted, the bulk of my last few days in Calcutta have been dedicated to working with the Missionaries of Charity, which Mother Teresa started after moving to Calcutta.

My guesthouse is located down the street from the Missionaries of Charity’s Motherhouse, where Mother Teresa lived for most of her time in Calcutta. Her grave is located inside – it’s such a beautiful and peaceful respite from the chaos that is Calcutta (they have mass there too!). I went here before my volunteer orientation on Friday afternoon to see it and asked the Sisters there if they needed help with anything, since I had nothing else planned for the afternoon. They’re all so cheerful, and were happy to put me to work stuffing prayer cards and handing them and medals out to everyone who came. It was strange being a representative for the place after not having set foot inside for more than half an hour; what authority did I have to greet people to a place I didn’t know? But it was cool to be able to hand things out and talk to those visiting from around the world.

Basically, Mother Teresa set up a few missions around town (the first – Kalighat –catering to the dying and destitute), and her sisters have expanded since then. They accept volunteers from anywhere, anytime to work at these various missions, which include serving the poor, sick, homeless, dying, and all-around ignored and ostracized people of Calcutta. I ended up spending my time working at a home for mentally- and/or physically-disabled children. It was so hard to witness the condition of some of these children – one of which particularly was close to dying because of water on the brain or a tumor or something to that effect. And I felt a little out of my element (apparently that’s a common sentiment for new volunteers around there). But we fed them, changed them, played with them, and did some stretches with them to improve their muscle function – hard work, but good work.

Clearly, some of these children are sickly or in pain. Most were left by their parents either after birth or later on in their lives, and some were found on the streets or in dumpsters and nursed back to relative health by the Sisters.  The Sisters are apparently somewhat controversial (particularly in the Western world) and are criticized for providing some level of medical care when not properly trained. But the fact of the matter is, they’re doing the best they can with what they have. Who could say these people are not better off having at least some security and consistency in these various missions? I could certainly not say that of Moshami, a particularly beautiful baby that I spent a lot of time with on Sunday. (She had the brightest eyes!) And I will never forget trying to feed another baby boy who seems to spend the majority of his days laughing at anything and everything!

Regarding some of the other things I did in Kolkata, I walked out to see some more sights on Saturday after volunteering. Thank goodness these are easier to find than some of the others I had looked for previously! I saw the planetarium – apparently it’s a particularly notable one. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to make it out to a show. I walked around the grounds of the Art Institute, which were somewhat laughable. The random concrete statues placed around the grounds were not at all unlike some of the things I’ve seen around art museums back in the states. Then, I walked over to the Victoria Memorial – a HUGE, beautiful marble building erected in honor of England’s Queen Victoria, “the first queen-empress of Calcutta” according to a plaque inside.

From the start, this place was interesting in that it charged a 10 rupee entrance fee for Indians, and a 150 rupee fee for foreigners. This is apparently not an uncommon thing (and is particularly prevalent, and problematic, in taxis.) They waste no time in making money off of foreigners around here! Anyway, entering the gardens around the memorial was worth the fee – it was beautiful and generally quieter than the bustling streets of the city. Inside, however, was a different story – it was SO crowded, and you’re whirled around in a circular pattern - there’s no ambling around this museum! 

                It was here that I came up with a tactic for answering particularly persistent “Miss, what country are you from?”s. (Don’t get me wrong – I have loved meeting people here, but when out by oneself, you have to be careful about who you share information with.) If someone persistently asks or starts to walk with me, I turn around and say, “Lo siento, pero no hablo ingles.” It’s dishonest and my last result, but has been effective the few times I’ve had to employ it! Curse the day I use it on someone proficient in Spanish around here! (I’ve already met one!) I may have to switch to Polish… 

                So anyway, after the Victoria Memorial, I swung back to hit the Anglican Cathedral. It’s also a pretty large stone edifice, and also a quiet respite from the noise of the streets. It’s pretty inside: it has beautiful woodwork and some great old mosaics portraying St. John’s life as described in various parts of the bible.

That's about as much detail as I have time for at the moment. All-in-all, it was totally worth the confusion of trying to leave early for India! I saw a lot of things, good and bad, but all important. Currently back in Delhi, soon leaving for Udaipur - more to come on that later!

Namaste!

                Namaste!

                I’m finally here in India – Can you believe it? I hardly can, it’s been a day and a half now and I feel like I’m in a dream. It took what I think was six-and-a-half long hour flight to London, a seven-and-a-half hour long flight to Delhi, and then a two hour flight to Kolkata (Calcutta) with layovers in between – all-in-all, over 24 hours of travel by my calculation (not to count all the time spent preparing and packing, what a doozey that was). Regarding my flights, all went well. Things got somewhat stressful in the Delhi airport, when I was still going through security a mere 15 minutes before my flight left – I have never run so gracelessly in front of so many people (and that’s saying something). Thank God for the various airport employees that bent the rules and allowed me to cut lines, check an extra bag, etc.! Although admittedly, my favorite airport agent had to be the customs man that allowed me official entrance into India in Delhi. I watched this man stamp visas and passports wordlessly for about an hour when, as he inspected mine, he looked up to confirm that I would be studying in Udaipur (I will). He smiled and said the city’s nickname, “the city of lakes.” Yes it is indeed, sir.

                However, before Udaipur, I decided to spend a few days in Kolkata, previous home of Mother Teresa and still home of her Sisters/Missionaries of Charity. After countless emails and phone calls to friends-of-friends and strangers alike, I was convinced that I had to go. I suppose I’ll start at the airport. It’s pretty small and worn down, and it seems kind of strangely casual in the way it’s run. Just one example: I saw passengers peer through the baggage claim curtains to yell at the security guards who were taking too long to scan our baggage – something, which if tried in an American airport, would probably result in people being tasered.

Auto-rickshaws on a Kolkata Street

                Well, that (along with most of the airplane meals) was just a taste of things I wasn’t used to seeing back home in the States. Stepping outside, I was bombarded by taxi drivers offering me a ride. Having been previously warned about so-called mafia taxis by a tour guide in Poland, I prepaid for my ride. But even still, drivers registered with the company were fighting to drive me, in hopes of getting a good tip. I was whirled into a cab by a driver I’m fairly certain that, upon hearing where I was going, swore in Hindi because my guesthouse is a pretty far from the airport – by my memory, about 6 km, which translates to something over an hour in Kolkata traffic.

                That is, if you can call the mess of cars on pavement in this city “traffic.” There are no lanes, no stop signs, and few lights (that are often ignored) – complete chaos. Good thing I watched a video taken by someone driving through Kolkata traffic before I arrived, or I may have panicked. Imagine: cars, trucks, buses, motorbikes, mechanical and traditional rickshaws, and bicycles with carts going every which way at knuckle-whitening speeds, missing each other by increments of an inch at any given point. It only took two minutes in the car to realize there is no such thing as being an aggressive pedestrian like back home, where you can expect cars to slow down for you as you cross the street, within reason of course. No, here you RUN for your life across the street, even when there is a walk sign allowing you to go. It’s kind of an amusing sight to see people of all walks of life – monks, business men, old women in sarees, beggars – sprint across the street for their dear life.

View from my window, men doing construction work on bamboo stilts

View from my window

                So, on Wednesday evening Kolkata time, I finally arrived at my guesthouse – the Baptist Missionary Society guesthouse, which is located down the street from the Sisters of Charity Mother House. Despite being exhausted and admittedly a bit overwhelmed, I made it to an internet “café” to report that I had arrived. Although it was around the corner, that was quite the walk too. Lots of people do not hesitate to talk to foreigners or beg for money around here as they pass.

My room, complete with complementary toilet paper

                I have no idea why, but I expected both to be located in a quieter area. Yes, I know Kolkata is a huge city. Yes, I had done pretty extensive research to learn about what’s up around here. But somehow, I was not prepared for the hustle and bustle that is this city. Outside my window is a little alley of dwellings – definitely not huts, but not quite houses – that never sleeps. At any given moment, I hear dogs barking, crows and chicken chattering, children playing, women and men yelling, and car horns blaring. Despite the many (useless) “no honking” signs around the city, horns seem to be drivers’ answer to the lack of lanes and rearview mirrors – they use them without mercy around here, to the point where it’s impossible to tell where they’re coming from.

                Because today is the Sister’s day of prayer, I spent the day walking around the city. Boy, did I walk! After breakfast at the guesthouse – bread, fried eggs, fried bananas, and of course TEA (chai) – I headed out with a map in hand and a general itinerary. However, I should have known better than to plan my excursion out – as Edrees, a friend from Youth Journalism International, the journalism group that I’m involved with told me last week, “Travel plans in Asia are not so firm.” My itinerary was disrupted by the fact that most shops don’t open until 10am, many streets are unmarked, multiple streets share names, my map was off at times, and just due to the sheer multitude of people out and about. This in and of itself was so different than the Polish cities I encountered last year, that I found it originally very frustrating. Early on, I ducked into a coffee shop mentioned by my hosts called “Barista” on one of the main streets. After having been somewhat of a spectacle on the way over, surprised was I to see a shop completely full of Americans and Brits, lounging around to the musical stylings of Green Day, Queen and Bon Jovi. So, yes, it was a fail on the Rachel scale of cultural authenticity. But nonetheless, the chai was really good (masala), and it provided a good stop to reevaluate the map before I went on my way.

So all-in-all, I think it worked out for the best. I still walked around all day, saw plenty of things (including a McDonald’s and a KFC, oddly enough), and got a taste of what it means to live in Kolkata. Plus, I successfully made a few purchases (although admittedly continue to fail at bargaining). Amongst all that there is to see just walking around and heading to the various bazaars, or markets, that are around town (more on that to come later, perhaps), I was able to see a mosque, the tower, some pretty regal government buildings, the Writer’s Building, and St. John’s Church.

St. John's Anglican Church, with the rockin' organist

Visiting the church turned out to be a surprisingly amusing experience. After walking around for hours, I was absolutely in needs of finding someplace quiet to sit for a while. After having searched for it and given up, I happened across the church accidentally. It sits in its own walled-in property (well, nothing is on its own property – people live everywhere). I found it strange that I had to pay a tourist fee to get in, and even more strange that the guard at the gate pestered me for additional tips. But I got in and sat down for a while. Inside the church was pretty simplistic – it was modeled after Greek architecture but clearly was worn and in needs of some care. As I was sitting, a man approached me and asked if I was from France (to think – someone thought I look French!) When I said, no, he guessed American and proceeded to tell me about the piano, which is from Chicago. Then he talked on and on about the organ, the piano, the bible at the front of the church, and the painting on a side alter. It turns out he was the church’s organist. He told me about corruption regarding the organist who facilitated the theft of about 100 of the organs pipes, and the corruption of the church employees like the security guard at the front. He then proudly showed me all the articles he was featured in as the church’s pianist and played a few songs for me and the other ladies that came to visit the church. But when they left, hilarity ensued. As I was leaving, he asked if I was familiar with a certain musician. When I replied that I wasn’t, he asked how I could not know the band Foreigner. (Of course I know them, they’re a particular favorite of my mother and I.) Shocked, I asked why he was asking. As it turns out, they randomly showed up to the church on a visit to India. He played me a few bars of “Cold as Ice” on the piano and then told me about how they asked if he knew any Pink Floyd. He was able to pick up on it by ear and played Pink Floyd on the organ, and they ended up recording it and jamming with him. And then he requested that I listen to the Pink Floyd song as I left. Imagine listening to a booming organ version of Pink Floyd in a church in Kolkata! I never would have expected that anywhere, nonetheless in India. So thanks, Johnny, for giving me the opportunity to have that story to tell!

So, that was really long, but what else would you expect of me? More to come later about Kolkata and hopefully my work with Momma Teresa’s crew here. But until then, see you later!