Calcutta - City with a Soul
By Joanne Lane I saw "City of Joy" when I was a child. I remember watching it with my parents, who had lived in India, and laughing at the funny parts but overwhelmed and cringing in terror at the disease, poverty and starvation. It`s all very well to see it at a safe distance on television, it`s another to be arriving in Calcutta with your heart in your mouth after the enormous woman next to you has told you to watch out for gypsies, hypnotists, beggars and every person you meet and then left saying "Enjoy my Calcutta" with a sad smile. Calcutta has been described as the city with a soul - a place of immense suffering but an unconquerable human spirit. Mother Teresa`s work with the Sisters of Charity is well known as is the Patrick Swayze film "City of Joy". However there was not much joy in our arrival, an event that defies description - a mass of humanity, limbless bodies, a hacking taxi driver, an overwhelming amount of traffic across the famed Howrah Bridge and finally a recovery coffee in the Blue Sky Cafe on Sudder Street. This city is the capital of West Bengal and its masses sprawl around the Hooghly River. Calcutta was once the capital of British India but Partition brought hardships, including a huge influx of refugees. It also divided the jute export centre from its source in what became Bangladesh. The city is now an urban disaster story with disease, squalor and starvation. But as always in India, the country of contrasts, it is also the intellectual capital with a flourishing art and political scene and a people who are famed for their pluckiness and friendliness. My first impression of the city was the former - dirt and poverty. But it must be impossible to get off your bus, plane or train and not be confronted with this. After all it is India. But the good thing is you can do something about it and within minutes of sitting in this cafe next to some Americans, we had volunteered to work with them in Mother Teresa`s home for the sick and dying, at Khalighat. At 5.30am the next morning, bleary eyed and wondering what we were in for, we met the Americans and walked the twenty minutes to the Mother House. This takes you through Calcutta`s waking hour, although she never really sleeps, only dozes. Many people were still asleep on their pavement beds. Others were slowly stirring and doing their morning ablutions - washing from street-side pumps and spitting into gutters. Some chai (tea) shops were open and the first brews were steaming. A few early customers were standing shrouded in shawls warming their hands on the chipped cups. With these impressions of Calcutta we arrived at the Mother House in time for Mass, climbed a staircase, left our shoes beside piles of others and padded into a large room. One half of the room was full of kneeling blue and white clothed nuns with voices raised in devotion. The other half was an assorted mash of travellers, some who seemed to know the ropes. Others, like myself, sat in stunned silence through what is a beautiful and moving experience even for those with no religious affiliation. After mass a free breakfast was served for the nuns and volunteers working that day. It consisted of chai (tea), bananas, bread and biscuits meeting fellow workers and going through the mail (for long term volunteers). Our group leader was an American girl who had been here three months. She took us by bus to Khalighat, home for the sick and dying. Most patients are on their death bed from respiratory and other diseases no longer in existence in the west, so we came prepared for the worst. It is also next to the Kali Temple, where according to legend, Siva`s wife`s corpse was cut up and one of her fingers fell at this site which is now a place of pilgrimage. Goats have their throats cut here every morning to satisfy the goddess` bloodlust. Not the most appropriate place for a place like Khalighat. But it was remarkably clean and well organised. A group of Indian nuns and western travellers had dedicated their lives to helping here. A large group of Spanish woman and a German man seemed to run the western contingent, some had been here for over ten years. There was also a Japanese man who enjoyed shouting vague instructions. The rest of us were travellers passing through mainly from England, America and Australia. My first morning was spent washing endless amounts of clothes, and losing one of the patients. A sister asked me to take a patient for a walk so we went out onto the street and found a posy by a chai (tea) shop. She wouldn`t budge after we sat down so I left her and went inside for mass where I sat at the foot of a man`s bed who occasionally looked up to shout at me for food or to spit in a cup. When I checked on her I found she had disappeared. I told the sister who looked alarmed but said "She is in God`s hands". I returned to washing clothes as penance thinking I would be asked to leave. Morning sessions at Khalighat include washing the patients clothes and bed sheets. There are no washing machines here so it is done by hand, or foot. Soap suds are mixed into the clothes in large stone tubs by stomping on them. They are then rinsed, again by foot, and finally wrung dry and hung on the roof. After a morning tea of biscuits, cake and more chai (tea), the patients are fed and administered medicine. It was during this lunch time that my patient returned. We hugged like old friends and the sisters asked me to feed her, saying she had enjoyed her excursion. She mumbled to me in Bengali and I answered in Hindi: "Yeh khana accha hai," (this food is good), "Ap chai hai?" (do you like it?) The great thing about Khalighat is that no one tells you what to do. It is completely self motivatory. If you don`t like it you are under no obligation to stay and a new group of volunteers come in after lunch so you can have the afternoons off. But most people complete their shifts. People in Calcutta long term are allowed to teach English in local schools. We were there only a week and spent our afternoons exploring Calcutta. There is a lot to see in Calcutta including remnants of the former British occupants. One is the Victoria Memorial with a huge statue of Queen Victoria guarding the entrance, a huge cathedral complete with pigeons flying in the rafters, Fort William and the Maidan (park). But usually our afternoons would progress like this. I would ask for directions in Hindi (although most people speak Bengali): "Bhai-sahib, voh Fort William hai?" ("Sir, is that Fort William?") But only in India and in Calcutta would the scruffy person you directed this to in a park littered with rubbish, playing children and cricket players answer you in perfect Cambridge English, "Yes that`s it. But why do you want to go there?" And we would be lectured about the real essence of Calcutta contained in the music, art and writing centres, but how most tourists hung out at the Blue Sky Cafe and befriended beggars. I felt a tinge every time I heard this. This is where we spent our time and I was in the habit of buying chai (tea) for one beggar. But a closeted experience or not, it was unique. Actually these people were right. There is more here than whats in the guidebooks. The best way to see Calcutta is to walk down any back street and meet and talk to the people. One street led us past a railway line, so littered with rubbish it was unable to be used. Here life was at its most desperate. Women squatted in the filth washing pots to cook dinner in, horribly deformed people limped around on crutches, children played in the mess and squalor and beside the tracks ran a shanty town of the most dilapidated dwellings you`ve ever seen. But it was surprising to see how cheerful the people living here were and how much pleasure they could take in life from even the most desperate of circumstances. People called out to us or joined us on our walk, asking only some of our time, a photograph or the chance to practice English. We were invited to sit with some people by their houses, which they had proudly swept and decorated with flags. We were never once asked for money. Surely the description of the Bengali people is true. They are plucky and friendly. If you can`t handle the back streets don`t feel bad hanging out at the Blue Sky Cafe. The food is great and you`ll meet interesting people. Around the corner is a fabulous western bakery, and there are numerous eateries with the best of south Indian food. At night go to the music shows and concerts or to wander the streets - traffic in Calcutta is a sight to be seen. The day we left Calcutta was my birthday. After a week at Khalighat I was given a garland of flowers and a cake, my special patient looked at me with recognition but no comprehension as I stuttered in Hindi that I was leaving. The other volunteers took me to lunch and the deaf and dumb flower seller outside my hotel pressed my hand enthusiastically. I had my last chai with my beggar friend and then it was time to cross the Hoogly bridge again. This time the journey did not seem so bad. The beggars seemed to smile, the traffic was slow but moving and taxi driver chatted with us and asked if we had enjoyed his Calcutta. We answered truthfully that it was a city with a soul. My City of Joy. HOW TO GET THERE
The most direct and comfortable way to arrive in Calcutta is by air. Calcutta is a major international and domestic terminus in India. Trains arrive here from Delhi, Agra, Varanassi, Madras, Kerala, Goa etc. There are first and second class compartments, including sleepers but the travel distances are long. Delhi is about 30 hours by train. WHEN TO GO
The best times to visit Calcutta is outside summer and monsoon (Oct-March). The climate is temperate and pleasant at this time of year. HOW TO VOLUNTEER
The usual method for wokring at Mother Teresa`s Sisters of Charity is to go for an interview first or even to write before you arrive if you intend to be there any length of time. If you know someone you can get permission to turn up as we did. If you want to teach English you must be in Calcutta several months to ensure continuity for the students. OTHER PLACES TO VISIT
Darjeeling is in the far north of West Bengal and was a favourite hill station of the British. From here you can visit Buddhist monasteries, tea plantations, bustling bazaars and do high altitude trekking. The miniature train that comes here from the plains is famous. If you want to go a little further afield Varanassi is halfway between Calcutta and Delhi. It is the religious capital of India famed for its ghats along the banks of the sacred river Ganges. |
