“Good morning, I am a tree”

More and more, I am realizing that my life in India is what I make it. The same thought no doubt applies to life in general, but the applicability of this idea to my day to day routine here is more tangible than I have ever before  experienced. India is nothing if not overstimulating. Every venture out the door leads to a bumping-into or a tripping-over of some sort. Ears are assailed by the squawks of birds and car horns at all hours. It’s dizzying. Add to this the cacophony of languages unknown to my foreign ears and the constant, brooding stares I still receive even on my own street after four months of living here, and you may understand why I sometimes think to myself: “India, you’re too much for me today.”

But then again, for all of those moments when Kolkata gets the best of me, there are an equal share of moments when I feel that my life could not be better. These highs come at unexpected times.

This morning, for instance, I found that while my first step out of bed landed on the wrong side, my second quickly corrected the path that my day would take. I woke suddenly this morning from a nightmare to find that I had overslept. I rushed through breakfast and threw together a tiffin to take on the road, and then was snubbed by the first taxi-wallah that I hailed. The man actually shook his head and, laughing, proffered a defiant “no” as he drove straight by. My second attempt landed me in the back of a taxi which weaved quite the scenic route through the Alipore area (a common trick that taxi drivers pull in order to run the meter and raise the fare) before dropping me off just in time for my first class of the day.

Once I reached the school, I discovered that I had had little reason to rush: the entire school was missing their first few periods in order to attend a special program put on by the primary grades in honor of Children’s Day. The holiday observes the birthday of India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, who was a great lover of children (teacher’s receive similar recognition in September on the birthday of an early President, Dr. Radhakrishnan).

While most of the school sat in the courtyard in rows per their usual assembly formation, a crowd of the little ones dressed in all sorts of costumes surrounded the stage. One by one, princesses and fairies and Salman Khan and Santa Clauses and devotees of various faiths approached the mic to give a little speech or to sing a song. Most of them were actually too shy to say anything, despite the attempts that the attending teachers made to physically place the students’ heads in front of the mic and to set their jaw in motion. Others were eager to perform: the boy from class four who dressed as Salman Khan treated the whole school to “dinka chika” (if you haven’t heard this song, then you’re clearly reading this from outside of India; look it up, it’s huge here). One of my favorites was a girl who, face poking out from the small whole cut into her cardboard costume, began: “Good morning, I am a tree.” Forget nightmares and faulty phone alarms, nothing can go wrong on a day that begins with a phrase like that.

 

Similarly, after a day spent catching up on sleep and generally being a couch-potato around the house yesterday, I went to Lake Market in the evening and got ridiculously turned around on my way back home. I have been living in this neighborhood for over four months, and yet I still take the wrong street from the market almost everytime I go. To convey exactly how lost I get myself, here’s a map:

If Mac had paint, I would have added a big question mark in the middle of this map. God knows what sort of path I took.

On the left is home and the straight path I take north to the market, and on the right is the point at which I realized I had taken one giant U-Turn and somehow made it back the to the major avenue at the top of the map.

Now, I’d like to think that I’ve become more Kolkata-savvy over time. Going anywhere for the first time in this city generally entails a bit of a guessing game, and I make it around on my own pretty well most of the time. Other times, I get ridiculously disoriented and, out of a stubborn need to figure out things for myself, end up a mile off course. Yet, as with last night, I’ve found getting lost in this city is actually the best way to find those places which I didn’t know to search for. Google Maps can only do so much in a city that has endless alleyways and tiny shops which complicate the nice grid pattern pictured above. Along the way on my venture in the absolute wrong direction from the market, I found not only some potentially useful stores, but also some quirky architecture in the old buildings lining these side streets which deserves a return visit.

In addition to those times when I get sincerely and unintentionally lost, there are other afternoons when I purposefully take the metro to stations which I otherwise do not visit and then begin walking in some direction. Without a clear destination in mind, I follow whatever street looks most intriguing. I appreciate that I live in a city safe enough to get lost in. Worst case senario: I find an auto-rickshaw/bus/taxi to take me back to the metro line. On the way, it is not uncommon to stumble upon some delicious street food, or an impromptu musical performance, or a historical building of some sort nestled inconspicuously between crowded shops.

The craziness never subsides during these trips. Nor does it leave me alone even when I’m behind closed doors in my flat. There’s always some sound (actually, a lot of sound) coming in through the windows or some person ringing the doorbell with an agenda that never fails to lead to some awkward clash of cultural assumptions (“You want to enter my flat to do what? …when? …why? Uh, alright…”) Sometimes I admittedly get a little grumpy, but then I remind myself: you’re half-way through a period in your life which you will likely never have the chance to revisit. No moment is worth wasting, especially when them most frustrating of them can be turned around with a laugh and a five-rupee milk tea.

 

 

 

Sidenote: While I have not been blogging lately, I’ve found myself mentally composing some posts while out on these aforementioned strolls. Don’t be surprised if there’s a sudden influx of posts soon on overdue topics like school (my reason for being here), travel, and festivals. Hold me to it! Haha.

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