Yesterday we walked down to the USIEF headquarters. Walking through the streets of Kolkata is an extreme sensory experience. Hawkers everywhere, people everywhere…car horns are the music of the street here. They are not the aggressive message that they are in New York or Boston. I think they mean move, I’m here, let’s go…driver use them because they can. The colors, the noise…I think the word cacophony is warranted. I am having a hard time getting a photo that truly captures the crowded, vibrant, color and chaos of the street. I’ll keep trying. Here are a couple:

Of course we passed a parade. It was Monday after all:

Today the only thing on our agenda was a visit to the Foreign Registration office. It could be simple; it could take hours. It is the reason they requested that we bring four extra passport photos along. So we had to stop at the camera shop on the way to get legit passport photos for those who had forgotten them or had variations on official photos. Our mentor here, Sumantu, had arranged for the shop to open at 10:30 so we could get to the FRRO on time. They did not open early—just kept telling us “after 11.” That, we realized, could mean anything. So it was well into early afternoon that we made our way to register.

(Of course) I was one of only two of us who had a stamp on the visa requiring that I register upon arrival. Everyone else who waited for hours for photos and made their way there through crushing heat and humidity was excused, and Keturah and I (with the glorious (thank you!) help of Sumanta and his knowledgeable colleague) filled out the paperwork, which had the look and feel of the 1950’s. I will receive an addition to my visa in 10 days, and will have to surrender it at the airport when I leave.
So after that, tired and hot though we were, several of us decided to venture out for lunch. After that, in spite of the heat and humidity, we decided to take a brief turn through New Market. The vendors are persistent. Very persistent. It’s quite astonishing—the tone never changes, they just keep asking and asking and asking and asking—just come look; my stand is right over here, just come look…. One little boy dogged us for quite a while—so cute, claiming he’s so very hungry. Aysha gave him a Nutri-grain bar from her purse and a few minutes later he was back—with his family! Aysha had one more packet of 100 calorie snacks in her purse.

He saw my camera and asked to pose for a picture.

Sumanta has now asked that we not chat with folks on the street.

I absolutely cannot imagine driving here. What I saw as harrowing cab rides in New York or Chicago are contemplative by comparison to riding in a cab here. There really ARE lines on the street—everyone pretty much ignores them. Cars come within inches of other cars, bikes, rickshaws, and pedestrians. It is a sight to behold. Maybe it will cure me of the nervousness I feel in cars in the U.S Their driving skills are nothing short of miraculous, and I cannot believe I have not seen a fender-bender yet.

The first time a driver turned off the car at a red light (yes, they do have a few red lights—and they do honor those) I thought the car had stalled.

A few miscellanous shots to close this post. More tomorrow when I’m awake at three!