Calcutta: the Great Unwashed

Hi, everyone. I'm too freaked out by all the blank space and white bread to write much now that I'm back in the States. So I am resorting to re-runs.

This blog originally appeared as a Lonely Planet "Don't Forget to Write" entry in December, 2003. It was one of several entries I wrote about Calcutta, so don't flip on me if I left something out.


India has a genius for complicating things, and I'm not exactly straightforward and clutter-free myself to begin with.

Your faithful correspondent came North to Calcutta see the Kali Pujas (Oct 25-28, 2003), decided to stay a few days to volunteer at Mother Theresa's homes, and, as though in reward for this altruistic decision, promptly got deathly ill - a very nasty 6-day bout with diarrhea, cramps, indigestion, nausea, etc., and had to resort to a short round of antibiotics.

To further complicate things, when I became well enough to stagger past the ever-present gauntlet of Calcutta's professional beggars down to the local net joint, I found there was a SNAFU with my usually trusty email account.

Mother Teresa's home for mentally handicapped kids (Shishu Bhavan) was pretty amazing and unexpectedly fun, if you can ignore the smell of antiseptic floor wash (barely masking that of urine and feces). You should see the way these kids, many of whom are autistic or worse, light up when you just strum a few chords on a beat up old guitar and sing "Old MacDonald."

Calcutta - (India's second largest city, which in terms of sheer numbers, is quite a statement) is simultaneously the most medieval and most modern place I've yet visited here. Where else in the world can you take a foot rickshaw (yes, with huge wooden spoke wheels and a snowy-bearded barefoot man trundling you along the street) - a foot rickshaw, past limbless beggars and snarling street dogs, to the gleaming, punctual, immaculate, safe, uncrowded, *air-conditioned*(!) Metro station?!

In the Indian tradition of religious assimilation, Mother Teresa has been added to the local pantheon of saints and deities. The ferocious Kali Ma stares you down from nearly every street-corner shrine, alternating with Durga, who smiles benignly while spearing a demon. Amidst what must have seemed pagan idolatry to her, Therese's wrinkled walnut of a face has earned an enduring place of honour.

The city has been awash with activity honoring her recent beatification; everything from a Mother Teresa film festival (mostly documentaries and one docudrama starring Geraldine Chaplin), a ceremony for the first official veneration of her relics (including a few drops of blood - don't even want to know how they acquired that), and various cultural ceremonies, mostly featuring acoustic guitar renditions of "Amazing Grace" sung in Bengali.

Park Street - the hip, happening yuppie street with all the bars, trendy shops and nightclubs - has officially, and not quite appropriately, been dubbed Mother Therese Avenue. Calcutta municipal corporation seems to have a real sense of humour in this area; in the midst of a somewhat perverse PC renaming orgy, they also rechristened Calcutta's most commercial thoroughfare "Lenin Street." The US and British consulates both reside on what's now called "Ho Chi Minh Avenue." (I'm not sure what significance, if any, to read into the fact that these names appear only on maps and signs, but never in the local parlance.)

The post-colonial purport behind this nomme-nouveau frenzy (which seems to have primarily benefited the sign-painters and map printers) strangely didn't stop several streets from being renamed with, of all things, British names. Thus the former Theatre Road, rather than being named after a worthy Bengali playwright, of which there are many, became "Shakespeare Sarani." Another street, albeit a small one, swapped the decidedly British "Middleton Row" for the equally Limey "Sir William Jones Sarani." And one can only wonder what nationalist purpose was served by giving the name "James Hickey Sarani" to the former Dacres Lane.

I've found it surprisingly difficult to leave Calcutta, described by...well, some old writer whose name escapes me as being composed of "new mud, old mud and more mud." Repetitive, but accurate. Weather here, which was monsoon marsh and dripping humidity upon my arrival, has greatly improved, as has my health.

Give Calcutta a chance to first entrap you with its bewildering network of former cowpaths impersonating actual streets, or prevent your plane from departing due to poor visibility, and you'll find it eventually ensnares you with its unique charm - a sort of "creme de la grime." It ranks with Rome as an eternal, infernal city.

Recommended in Calcutta:
Kolkata Film Festival
Victoria Memorial including the Calcutta History Museum
Dakshineswar Kali Temple
Park Street British Cemetery
Howrah Bridge at dusk
Asiatic Society Museum (no admission for foreigners without passport)
Indian Museum on Chowringhee (Nehru) Street

Who writes this stuff?

I think the Telegraph needs a new correspondent.


In Nepal related news this morning:

The escape of the Czech forester from Darjeeling has raised serious security concerns in the region especially in the light of Nepal’s lenient immigration policy and the largely porous border that it shares with India....
The problems they believe lie in the fact that foreigners do not need visas to visit Nepal. They only have to get the passports stamped while entering the Himalayan Kingdom.

Foreigners don't need visas? My friends and I will be so glad to hear that!!

Hilarious - of course we need visas, oh boy do we need them. A few laws have permutated recently, but until about this past June, we had to report every 30 days at immigration and get a new one. They didn't even trust us with a few months at a time.

Indeed, foreigners do need visas for Nepal. However, visas can be taken either in advance from a Nepali embassy or, more commonly, at the border (or airport) upon arrival.

It's not just a stamp...like most visas, it is a sticker in your passport. Tourist Entry Visa. AHEM.
And it costs all of $40 for 30 days, pretty hefty when you consider that six months in India only costs you $60.

When you get to the Immigration queue at Tribhuvan Irrational Airport, just get in line and be sure to have 2 copies of a passport-sized photo, as well as photocopies of your Passport front page. AND $40....the denominations required keep changing. They used to ask for $40 US and only accept US. Now I hear they won't take USD.

And we're no longer a Kingdom! Wake up and smell the incense, Telegraph "correspondent"!

Howrah now?

Life's Rich Pageant
Notes From Calcutta

As you may have read in last week's blog, my friend G. ended up staying in a place called the Howrah Hotel, out by Howrah Station in Calcutta. The famous nearby Howrah Bridge (sorry, I have no photos) is a great place to contemplate the human condition and your place therein. I recommend standing on the side of the pedestrian path near sundown, when the bridge literally groans with the weight of commuters.

It's like a parade of every vehicle from every century has reconvened for a slow crawl in the purple smog....bicycles, pony carts, stray cows and dogs, pedestrians, cycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, private cars, Ambassador taxis, trucks, and the traditional Bengali-style long boats glide silently beneath. You begin to feel very, very small....as well you should.

On the same note, I had a psychedelic experience in Howrah Station itself. No drugs necessary - just immerse yourself in the crowds whirling about you. I became disoriented, though I was standing in one place. Finally I had to sit down on a wooden bench and just gaze at the glowing-green, shifting electronic timetables. The Bengali script started to fuse with the English and Hindi and I really didn't see individuals anymore, just forms of energy.

It will happen if you stay in India long enough. If you are lucky, that is. "Why do people go to India to find themselves? India is where you go to lose yourself."

The Howrah appears to be one of the old-school die-hard budget hotels, much like the famous (or is it notorious? ) Broadlands Lodge of Chennai. G. said it was a near-clone of the Broadlands, which is high commendation coming from a Carnatic music buff. Except, he noted, everything is dirtier - it IS Calcutta - and for those who know the Broadlands, that is really saying something.

Anyway, here are G.'s photos of the Howrah and beneath them, my photos of the Broadlands. Almost twins. I love that distinctive, garish Indian Blue paint (never seen it anywhere else, except possibly the Caribbean, where it is said to ward off evil spirits). The above are all photos of Howrah Hotel.

Below is the Broadlands. If you need to find these hallowed halls in Chennai, just tell the rickshaw driver "Star Cinema."

Missing in traction

There was a crooked (wo)man
Still in Kathmandu; Letter from Chennai

Yes, it's true, I haven't written in weeks. Din din ne, ek naya samasya aunchhu (every day, another new problem comes).

No sooner did I get rid of the Colonic Critters than a new health problem arose. Lumbar spondylosis with marginal osteophytes means my lower spine is growing crooked and has little bone spurs sprouting from the vertebrae. It also means I have to lie on my back and side a lot. Kind of hard to type upside down.

Since I'm not traveling at the moment, I'm filling space with snippets from friends who are.
My friend G. wrote from Chennai (land of fabulous fluffy Idlis and world-famous Meals Ready and Madras coffee) to tell me about his Calcutta lodging situation, and why he was going to Chennai at an otherwise unlikely time of year.

G. ended up staying at a place called the Howrah Hotel, which he describes as a sort of Calcutta version of the famous Broadlands Lodge of Chennai:

Howrah Hotel is across the road from the station if you come off the bridge you bear a bit to the right where there is a nasty vegetable market and the hotel faces that and a single room is 265 rupees with attached bath. It is dirtier than Broadlands, and of course you are in Howrah. But there are some "higher class" Indian places walking distance away with a/c restaurants and decent food. One the Asoka hotel has a speakeasy bar with a plasma screen tv and very cold beer and thalis and all sorts of food.

Why Chennai/Madras in August?

Why Madras in August. ... the weather is cloudy, rainy, not hot at all, better than muggy Thailand. The train south was a killah; I am just too soft from Thailand where everything is easy. BUT THERE IS NOTHING LIKE THE IDLY WADA AT RATNA CAFE on Triplicane High Rd.!

Turns out there is a rather unique South Indian Music Marathon concert "for world peace." That could only happen in Chennai. (A few years ago the Carnatic musicians congregated to sing nonstop in Amritavarshini raga for some 36 hours in hopes of bringing the rains.)

Indian music tradition holds that various ragas can produce not only various moods, but specific effects. I wonder whether there are specific ragas to produce VishwaShanti (world peace)?

There will commence today a 5 day Carnatic marathon of nonstop concerts with all the available major artists performing one hour segments AND A PRIZE WILL BE GIVEN TO THE RASIKA(fan)WHO LISTENS TO THE MOST SEQUENTIAL NUMBER OF CONCERT HOURS!!!!!!!!!! I wonder if he gets a ghee soaked kiss from Jayalalitha?

G. wrote a few days later to elaborate:

I am attending a few hours of the 100-hour marathon of Carnatic music for world peace. It is in a small temple in Mylapore. NO one knew where it was exactly, so I hopped a bus on Peters Rd which took me to Royapettah/Mylapore crossing and walked from there. All the living big shots were there, each artist playing for one hour. Good stuff.

Oh man, I know that crossing. Royapettah/Mylapore. I can taste the ghee poli now.

Mylapore is The Hood for Carnatic traditionalists. If you go, don't neglect to visit Karpagambal Mess on East Mada Street (I think), and get your card read by the Kili Jyotisham (man with a trained parrot who selects a card for fortune telling) in front of Kapaleeshwar Temple.

(My card was Saraswati. Don't ask me what Jesus is doing on the signboard....the cards were mostly Hindu deities.)
Mylapore is one of the last 'hoods for ultra-traditional South Indian Brahmins (above). While watching them tirelessly prepare for pujas on the ramparts of Kapaleeshwar Temple - bundling durva grass and reading Tamil astrological almanacs for the right tithis -- I always reflect that the men I'm watching may be the last of their kind. Will India's Generation Next find time to do duty for the gods, and do they even know how to wrap a dhoti or vaishti?

G. continues updating me on some old haunts:
I am sure you remember the old Maharaja restaurant in Triplicane. It is under new ownership and called the Suriya. It has been cleaned up, new chairs and staff. The food is good but the service is terrible. It seems they cannot find good staff. What they need is a waiter boss who can shout orders and make them scurry around. They are sleepwalkers now. A good meals hotel has to be in frantic action like Ananda Bhavan, where they slap on the sambar before you run out. Suriya does have a bit of style--the coffee comes with the proper foam on top and the added touch of a crisscross of coffee powder on the foam gives some points.

Then G. describes a less appetizing reality of Indian urban life. I witnessed this in Chennai couple years ago in 2006. If you are eating you should probably stop reading and looking now....

They are cleaning the sewers here so small black men descend into fetid pits of black goo and bucket them out on the sidewalk. Now there are huge piles of black stuff for several blocks. I can now hold my breath at least 3 minutes.

That's right - tiny Dravidian men practically dive into the reeking pits, totally naked save for a tiny loincloth strip. No protective gloves or mask, no disinfectant provided, nothing, and come out dripping in green-brown slime. My photos from 2006 are below.

In 2006 I was on my way to a "nice" restaurant when I saw these scenes just outside. I couldn't eat after going in, so I described it to a man working there. "Oh, the municipality gives them gloves and protective wear," he said, "but they sell it and keep the money." I'll decline to comment on that.

Stuck in Calcutta with the Chennai blues again

Where can Gary stay?
Letter from Calcutta

My old India friend and Carnatic music buff G. just wrote a one-line SOS signal.

I need a hotel recommendation in Calcutta - badly!!

The caption reads: "Stuck in Calcutta with the Chennai blues again."

Indeed, Cow-cutta, Kolkata or Kalighata has far fewer decent bargain hotels than most other Indian cities its size - even worse than Chennai.

Sudder Street (shudder) is full of things like Salvation Army, that's a no-brainer. But where are actual budget hotel rooms that are cheap n cheerful? Is that asking too much in the City of Eternal Twilight?

In fall 2003, I was desperately sick in Calcutta. I needed to stay in a room that didn't require steeling my stomach each time I walked through the door and enduring the stench of floor cleanser. The place I had been staying (a well-known volunteers' and backpackers' hangout) had rats running across the floor, sometimes even into the shower stalls.

Finally just around the corner on Sudder Street, I found the rooms above Super Chicken. Super Chicken is a big shiny relatively new fast-food place somewhere on the far end of Sudder, nearer to Mirza Ghalib street. There are only 6 or so rooms in this mini-hotel but they are all spotlessly clean with brand new fixtures, AC and even flat-screen TVs. Imagine my joy!

At that time the rooms were $12 a night, which was a splurge for a budget traveller. I don't think I ever could have gotten well otherwise. I can't remember the name of this place for the life of me, but I just told G. to look for Super Chicken.

Everyone, help G. and future Calcutta budget travellers! Where can G. stay? We are looking in the range of $10-15 a night. Send answers and suggestions via Comments!

Calcutta Calling

3 Days in the Haze? - Viewer mail
Leh, Ladakh

Harry from Pune writes:

Got your email address from BootsnAll Travel Forums.

I am traveling for the first time to Calcutta (currently live in Pune India about 100 miles south of Mumbai) next month and hope to spend 3 days there on my way to Bhutan and Nepal. Can you advise what are the places to be seen in Kolkatta in 3 days.

Thanks and awaiting your answer.

Dear Harry: Namaskaram and Jullay from Ladakh!:

If you were coming from any other city, I would say, "prepare yourself for air pollution." However, Pune just might be the one city even more polluted than Calcutta. You should feel right at home in that regard. ;-)

Definitely, there is much to see in Calcutta in 3 days. I highly recommend the Victoria Memorial and Calcutta History Museum there, which are walking distance from Sudder St., the "usual" tourist guest-house spot. (It is full of hassles, like all Indian tourist spots. But, you will meet interesting people who are doing volunteer work there.)

The India Museum, also just round the corner on Chowringhee from Sudder, is a must-see. Allow several hours for this museum, which includes a transplanted and reconstructed Buddhist stupa-torana from Sanchi, MP, and one of the most frightening Tibetan wrathful-goddess statues I've ever seen.

The Aurobindo Birthplace is (I think) on Shakespeare Sarani, also walking distance from Sudder. You can see the Rabindranath Tagore home which is now part of Rabindra Bharathi in a different section of town. The former home of Swami Vivekananda is also open now, but I did not personally visit there.

Park Street is the chic, hang-out and shopping street. The Barista coffee bar is there, as well as Oxford Books and several upscale restaurants. Last I heard they were thinking of renaming it after Mother Theresa. Doesn't seem like an appropriate choice to be named for an austere nun.

I feel no trip to Calcutta is complete without a visit to its spiritual heart, the Dakshineswar Kali Mandir in northern Calcutta, better known as Sri Ramakrishna's temple. (stock photo at left.) The best thing to do is go for evening arati and stay at one of the guest houses there - Holy Nest Guest House is very nice. You can take the Metro to the next-to-last stop, but then you must take a taxi to Dakshineswar (for some reason, pronounced DakINeswar without the H).

Then in the morning, go to morning arati or fire-puja at 5am, (very moving with bhajan-singing); check out the rooms in which Sri Ramakrishna and Sarada Devi used to live. Later take the boat ride (in a traditional distinctive Bengali-style boat) across the Hooghly River, to Belur Math. Belur Math, the ashram and HQ of the Ramakrishna monastic order, is a fantastically atmospheric place, not to mention the wonderful architecture of warm, brown African sandstone. The 5-year-old Ramakrishna/Vivekandanda/Sarada Devi museum there is great and very worth seeing, containing things like the famous brown robe you see in every photo of Vivekananda! Swami Vivekananda's memorial is also at Belur Math.

Getting around Calcutta: you have more choices than any other Indian city. Walking, cycle rickshaw, foot rickshaw, Metro, local commuter above-ground train, local bus, Ambassador taxi and in some areas, autorickshaw. The trick is that each has their limitations. Autoricks are only allowed in certain zones, for instance, as are foot ricks.

As much as possible, try to take the Calcutta Metro. It is a world away from the rest of Cal - modern, clean and timely. Even air conditioned! Calcutta is perhaps the last place in the world you can take a wooden, hand-pulled rickshaw to the gleaming, modern subway.


As a foreigner and history buff, I found the colonial graveyards very intriguing, with their elaborate Victorian headstones all overgrown with greenery. There are also several historic churches - the Armenian church, one of the last remnants of the formerly flourishing Armenian community of Calcutta, and St Paul's Cathedral, at the end of the Maidan near Victoria Memorial, which has fantastic stained-glass windows by the famous PreRaphaelite artist, Sir Edmund Burne Jones.

The Mother House, the HQ of Mother Theresa's Missionaries of Charity, includes Mother Theresa's tomb. This is walking distance from Sudder Street.

Some of my favourite Calcutta moments came at very non-tourist places. To stand on the Howrah Bridge, for instance, at sunset, and feel the bridge groan under the relentless weight of commuters (two, four legged and wheeled) as the dark comes and the air turns purple with dusk, is to feel part of the immensity of humanity. (If you don't like that cliche, use another. You get the idea.)

The famous Kalighat temple is the polar opposite of Dakshineswar - more bloody and less "spiritual." Expect "priests" to hit you up for "donation" or "puja" money even before you reach the actual temple gates. Be prepared to smell and perhaps see goat sacrifices.

Mother Theresa's famous Home for the Dying Destitute is very nearby Kalighat temple, but I did not personally visit there. However, half the foreign people on Sudder Street (you can detect them by the idealistic gleam in their eyes) are volunteering there, if you want to share a ride. Or, you can take spotless, silvery the Metro directly to the Kalighat area. It's a good opportunity to reflect on the simultaneously medieval, colonial, and modern worlds that still co-exist in Calcutta.

Photo of Hooghly at dusk by Paul Wagner.
Photo of temple from Calcutta Tourism site.