Backpacking Paradise: calcutta

I arrived in Calcutta, unsure of whether I would have a ride from the airport to the dorm I would be staying in. I got off the plane, and saw no sign with my name on it. I stood for a minute, contemplating my next move, when I was approached with a bright smile and a man named Philip. "You must be Molly?" From there on, I was put at ease. The dorm I stayed at was much nicer than I expected-I thought I would be sleeping on a stone floor in a pile of hay-not sure why I had expectations of living like a farm animal but it was a pleasant surprise. The people I met, those in charge of the volunteers made my experience so much more than just a stop in another big city.

At the dorm, I became instant friends with my roommates-Jean, a Montessori teacher from Michigan, and Geraldine, a med student from Australia. The three of us explored Calcutta together-well, more, they showed me the way because both had been there for a little while.

I was there for nearly two weeks. Many people say, when handing out travel advice, that this is a city that you should just get in and out of. I think that must be because they have just gone in and out themselves. At it's surface, Calcutta is what you expect it to be, but dirtier. Wearing flip-flops the entire time gave me feet that could give any transient a run for their money. Walking down the street, the deafening sound of horns, which is their answer to the organized chaos that is their driving system, is unavoidable. There are pockets of heat and strong smells-from food spices to the pungent scent of body odor-it was so bad at times that I had the urge to smear Vick's Vapor Rub under my nose to blanket the scent. At any given time, you can spot a pantless toddler, squatting over the curb to relieve himself. A dog with a newly born litter of hungry puppies on the side of a busy road. An elderly woman, hunched in the drainage, her elegant sari pulled to her knees, vomitting bile. In cabs, the traffic stops and you hear the tap of a tin cup on the window accompanied with two elementary aged boys and their blind mother, fingers pressed against the glass asking for change. You hear story after story from Indians about the religious persecution and the cruelty towards humans that still exists very strongly here. You have to desensitize yourself slightly to prevent tears from escaping every time you feel a tug on your shirt and look down to a child holding her infant sibling asking for a little help. Or when you meet a child at the Blind School whose parents left him in the dump as a baby when they discovered that he was blind. A boy whose stomach hung much too far over his pants for his size. You think it's cute and funny until you find out that he has worms. A mom on the streets, a proud mom, looking old and worn. A sari with tapered edges and small, patched up holes. When we help her, she speaks only of the needs of her four sons.

Your eyes are opened, too much at times, to another way of life. One that we often only see in movies like Slumdog. But regardless of any bad fortune that has been tossed their way, each person I've come across wears a huge smile. There is so much heart in this city. I had the opportunity to spend some time at a slum school called Stars School. Kids there are grateful for your presence, they don't ask for much else. Eager to learn. Arriving day after day in the same clothes, unphased. Fascinated by cameras and having their pictures taken.

After a week in Calcutta, Jon and Gabe arrived. We explored Sudder Street, the backpacker area, and New Market, a huge bazaar that sells everything from meat to locks to scarves. They left for a three day trek in a tiger reserve and I stayed in Calcutta to finish up my work there. On my final full day, we woke up at 5:00am and headed out to the slums to help feed the community there. After that, fighting through yawns and exhaustion, we made our way out to Sarampour, where Jean would be teaching. Our final stop was the Blind School, where they had prepared a lunch for us. At 6:00pm, I said my goodbyes to the people I had met at the volunteer house and met up with Gabe and Jon. The three of us got one last chicken roll and hopped on the overnight bus to Bodh Gaya. The adventure begins...

Stars School