The trip to Shubrutu's village

Saturday We got to the bus station an hour before it was to leave so we would be guaranteed a seat on the long drive. I wasn’t complaining, all around me people were living on the street—their lives covered in tarps. On the bus, I sat in the Ladies Section pressed against a window. The old woman sitting next to me would sporadically grab my wrist, scaring the shit out of me, to look at the time. Once we got out of the city, India was a different world. Women and men bent over the vast rice patties, cows had rule and the sun was low and red. People lived in grass huts and pumped water from wells and had no electricity but the crazy thing was everyone was so happy looking—completely peaceful and settled.  

We arrived at the village in the dark. The village clustered around a main brick road busily surrounded by all of the shops and markets. We walked through the quiescent night to the house using a torch to see, down twisting dirt paths and a lake. The house is situated in a circle around a large open courtyard, which contains the latrine (squat toilet with shower head), kitchen and large table to eat big family meals. The family consisted of a grandfather, 3 brothers and their wives and children. It was busy and warm. It also made me feel very homesick—a feeling I couldn’t shake for a lot of the weekend. I should give myself a break, this is some first trip away from home: very poor country, on my own, long hours, an apartment far away from everyone, incredible cultural divide. It’s not easy. 

 Immediately after I got there and after I had given my two boxes filled with Bengali sweets to Shubrutu’s mother as thanks, we were sat down and served cha and samosas. Oh dear god they were good. In a typical Bengali fashion, only until after we were fed were we introduced to everyone. Michael and I did not stay in the house but in a guest lodge. As much of an experience it would be, I was thanking god I would not have to use that latrine. The guest lodge rooms had a lot of windows, a mosquito net and a very very large lizard. We explored the town with Shubrutu and visited his 2 uncle’s electronic shops. There was a power cut and the stores switched to candles. When we went back to Shubrutu’s house a fabulous dinner was laid out by candlelight. Duck eggs, fresh salad, Roti, Dal, Mutton, sweets, it was the best food I’ve had in India yet and it was all prepared by the women of the household. But the food was just for laid out for Michael and me. The rest of them sat or stood watching us as we ate, waiting for our reactions. It was incredibly uncomfortable but I knew from my large family of food lovers not to leave them hanging so I proclaimed and talked about the food after every bite. When we got back to the lodge, we hung our mosquito nets and treated them with mosquito repellent, and the sheets, and put in a mosquito repellent wall plug and covered ourselves in mosquito repellent, turned on the fan, opened the windows and went to sleep. If I’m not going to get malaria, I’ll definitely get cancer. I woke up several times throughout the night with the gripping feeling I couldn’t breathe and was underwater—the humidity was that bad. Sunday/Monday I lay in bed for 15 minutes before getting up Sunday morning. For the first time I felt like I was in India. The mosquito net was moving with the fan and the windows were open letting in the sounds of a symphony of birds. I could smell smoke from shops opening and starting to cook. We walked to the house and ate a breakfast of duck eggs, toast with jam and cha. Shubrutu brought us out bicycles and we went on a bike ride to a nearby village to visit all of the local temples. I have never been happier. This is the way to see India. Down a thinly paved road we passed farmers starting their day, women with large pots on their head to bring water from the well, other bicyclists and people bathing in the many lakes. We visited several temples and I took many pictures. I feel the pictures may capture the deep sense of tradition and vibrancy that maybe my words cannot. We stopped and sat by a lake passing around a mango and watching people bathe and rest in the shade. 

 On the way back I maaay have almost passed out from dehydration/the sun. It was so hot the rest of the day went like: rest, lunch, rest, small outing, rest, dinner, rest, sleep. Our lunch was another feast, which I have posted and labeled on my flickr. I know I’m talking a lot about the food, but I’m almost not talking about it enough. It is so relevant. After we took lunch, the women invited me into their room and the cousin, who was obsessed with me, performed all his tricks while his mom egged him on. “No, no it’s TWINKLE little star. Try again.” Ahhh family. 

 After our lunch rest, we took the bikes over to a big field outside a school. I was the only woman on the entire field. Michael went to play soccer with some other boys/men. It was funny to watch them dribble around cows. I just chilled, read my book and watched the game. The boys were completely infatuated with Michael and kept asking him for his number and “do you like me?” The game went into the dark night and then broke up into little circles of boys listening to music or playing cards or talking all by candlelight. 

 Our huddle listened to Michael Jackson on a cell phone. It was a really bizarre tribute. Earlier, I became completely obsessed that the village had many King Cobras just slithering around. I was determined to see/catch one during the day, but when I found out the field we were sitting in, in the dark, was right near a nest I was less eager. The boys kept scaring me…they didn’t know my name or “hello” but they did know the words “KING COBRA!” Nice. When we got home after dinner there was a power out which was impossible to sleep through. Then we woke up at 5:30 in the morning and got to the bus station, and into lab at 9 for a full days work. I was in a dream state all Monday. Which may be why I dropped my camera, broke it and as a result had to go to a Canon repair store (I found them! I found the people you talk to on the electronic help lines! They’re at 3 Shakespeare Sarani Road!) and pay $120 for them to fix my camera. 

Friday

Feeling stressed about lab, long distance relationship issues and not getting much sleep or feeling that well made me take a mental health day. I stayed in, returned emails, read, wrote, slept, and watched Ocean's Eleven. All in the AC. It was decadent.

I was invited by a guy in my lab, Shubrutu, to spend the weekend at his parent's house (with Michael) in a village near Kolkata. We're leaving by bus tomorrow at 3pm and it will take us about 4 hours to get there. I can only imagine what's in store for us. I am going to pack for camping. We'll be returning Monday early morning and going straight into lab. I'll update my blog as soon as I can.

!!!!!

Wait, Fast, Meditate

Wednesday The hardest part of being here is figuring out what to do with myself. There are no friends, restaurants, TV, and there is limited internet, mobility and time. After a long hard day at Lab, I leave to catch my taxi in the dark and it's hard to motivate. Yesterday was the festival Rathyatra. Two brother gods leave their house once a year in a big chariot to visit their grandma. That's it. It's kind of a kids holiday where they make their own miniature chariots and pull them all around the city. I have never seen this many children on the streets of Kolkata. It was fun. The boys grabbed their chariots and raced each other, and the girls in their party dressed smiled and held their parents hand. The chariots got very elaborate. I saw one blocking half of the EM bypass. It looked like a huge lit up christmas tree with a large stereo system in the back chanting "Hare Krishna." A whole team of families needed to help pull it. I decided it might be fun to get some beers and watch the festivities from my balcony. Finding a liquor store and then one that was open was an adventure. When I finally found one it looked like a drug dealership--if they had store front windows. A bunch of men crowding a barred window and being handed things wrapped in newspaper. Then they would stuff it in their bags and walk away. Yes I was the only woman and no mom don't be scared, I got them and was on my way. I went home, turned on some Manu Chao (which my college roommate taught me makes everything better) and cooked some thai vegetable stirfry (vegetables, thin noodles, coconut milk, lime and ginger). Then I went onto the balcony with my hard earned beer and watch the few kids in our neighborhood out and finished my book Bel Canto. Thursday It was a stupid day in lab. My PCRs, which I'm doing beautifully thank you, are having unknown problems. But the stupid part is, we do a PCR and then literally wait for it to finish to figure out where to go next. My first PCR finished 3 1/2 hours later and didn't work. Then we started the next one at 6, and Moumita I think was a little peeved when I said I didn't want to stick around (until 9) to see the band. I did however have a talk with her about possibly doing mutliple PCR's at once so there is always something to do and we could have multiple results at a time. Moumita said, yes that would be great but we only have 2 PCR machines and Shubrutu needs one too. FUCK. Our lab is so poor it's so sad. I planned on writing an angry email I would most definitely regret as soon as I got home. But I got locked out of my apartment (new complicated locks were installed at our apartment). The only thing I had with me was Siddhartha. It all just seemed so laughably fate- like I didnt' write that email and instead read for an hour or so waiting for Michael to come home. Little note about the heat: You know when you step behind a car exhaust and you feel that intense fleeting heat? That's Kolkata. And then add humidity you can bite through. Michael and I switch off who gets AC every night. I look forward to my nights and my heart skips a beat.

Tuesday

I haven't talked to Sir yet about traveling because I've been working surprisingly decent non stressful hours. I want to have just gotten out of work 12 hours later, red eyed and sloppy in order to really drive my point home.

I've been looking into different places to visit. My top choices were the jungles, where I could go on an elephant safari and watch Bengal Tigers and leopards and get away from the city. But they're all closed due to monsoon season. Which like whatever I think is just a big lie to keep the white people away for a few months. So maybe I'll go to Darjeeling. This mountaintop top city bordering Nepal where the best teas in the world are grown and the hiking is breathtaking. Maybe I'll take a train there and fly back. Domestic flights are almost all under $150 round trip anyway. And I'm more excited about the romanticism of the train that the trip actually.

Michael and I took the bus to Big Bazaar to go grocery shopping. On the bus an attractive young woman (in her mid twenties prob) told me to come stand by her. I was scared someone was pick pocketing me by how adamant she was. Turns out she was just being nice and she had a nice spot by the window big enough for two. Go figure. Her name was Jyoda and had a perfect English accent. She offered to show me and Michael around whenever we wanted and we got her phone number. She takes the bus to this nearby beach town sometimes on the weekend with her friends. My new goal is to make best friends with her and have her take us. I'll let you know how that goes.

We had many packages leaving Big Bazaar and decided to try a bike rickshaw. Michael bargained the guy down to 8 rupees (roughly 18 cents) to take us and our packages to the main crossing. I couldn't enjoy my first rickshaw ride because Michael and I got into a heated debate. My point: Why bargain with someone over cents? Why not give them the same we would in America? Why perpetuate the standards set by a third world country when we can afford to do otherwise?

His point: It's unfair to use American standards of living in another country, the cost of living is infinitely lower here. They expect us to bargain, that's what everyone does. Why get taken advantage of just because we can afford it? (Michael feel free to add your own side.)

Anyway as a result he gave the guy 8 rupees and I gave him 100 rupees (roughly $2) which was kind of exorbitant and ridiculous but I had to prove my point, right? :-p

Weekend Update

Saturday On my taxi ride to the lab I listened to my ipod on shuffle. Kolkata’s morning markets and rickshaws passed by to Bob Marley, Melissa Etherdige and The Pixies. It was beyond surreal. Moumita, Sreelupa, Michael and I went first to the Indian museum (the largest museum in India!) We looked through dusty cases at formaldehyde babies and old fossils. The religious statues were over 5000 years old, and completely out in the open willing you to touch (I did!) A Buddhist statue from the 4th century had the initials JD carved into it. Then we went to the New Market. It reminded me of Chinatown. Stores and stalls and blankets of beautiful fashion, knockoffs, food and accessories. I was quite good at bargaining, but was too overwhelmed by the process (and tired from the museum) to buy much. When I would walk into a store, every possible store agent would ignore everyone (Michael, sreelupa, moumita, other customers) and focus on me bringing me out the most beautiful and expensive items in the store. I was their white suga momma. Decked out in nasty old backpack, sweat and sloppy bun. 

 Sir wanted Moumita to help me pick out a formal traditional Salwar and he would pay for it. We went to this airconditioned mall with nothing but stores selling fabric, sarees and salwars. I went up into the attic of this one store and waited in the incense for Moumita to bring me up the most expensive Salwars. I felt like a princess. Moumita and Sreelupa would come up after to see how they looked. If they were too low cut or tight they wouldn’t let me go downstairs to the mirror (where the men could see) and instead took a picture of me. The Salwars they picked were gorgeous, bewelled and very colorful. But unless I was going to a bollywood premiere I couldn’t imagine ever wearing them. Instead I picked out a simpler, tight fitting grey and orange salwar (I’ll post pictures when I wear it) which is still stunning and formal. Sunday After an empowering talk with my mom I decided to stick it to the Sir and tell him I don’t want to work so many hours and/or I want to take some time off at some point to travel. (It sounded a lot stronger after the conversation.) And, also at her request, I put down the Tagore for a bit :-p I went on the metro and into Park street to visit the Oxford Book store to see what I could find. I sat up in the rafters and drank cha with a ton of other white people who knew of the bookstore from the Planet Guide. I met a couple from France and a woman researching in Delhi (who was from Georgia!). I found a book called 50 getaways From Kolkata, which is perfect for planning a trip by train. Planning makes me so happy and calm. I also bought Siddhartha. Having had fun talking in English I visited another coffee house, Flury’s, and met a very pierced out couple from Australia who were traveling around India. I invited them to meditate at night but they never showed. I also met and then ate lunch with 4 nurses (in training) who were traveling. They said they could tell I have been in India for awhile because of my head bobbing when I talk. I met Michael for meditation but felt sick from having walked around all day and barely drinking water so I couldn’t get into it. Monday I was a villager tonight. Stopped into the market. Shopped at the only stall run by a woman. Her stall was full of vegetables and lit by candles. She was savvy and used a medieval hand held scaled where she put stones on one plate and my vegetables (a carrot, 2 petite eggplants, 2 tomatoes, ginger, and a lime) on the other plate. The whole lot came to 29 ruppees or roughly 75 cents. I stopped by my local dvd place to pick up a movie. The boys love me there. They bring out all the romantic comedies so I can see them (…previous rental habits) and ask me lots of questions about movies and smile a lot. I always linger. I got a chicken roll for dinner (chicken wrapped in freshly made naan, red onion, and lime). I stopped by this man who was making corn. He peels it, lets you inspect it, then roasts it over burning coals, salts it and rubs it with lime. It is perfect. I ate it on my way home balancing all my other packages in my other hand so I could eat with the other. The city is very loud at night. Families go to the market all balanced on one bike (tiny baby sitting on fathers lap in front). Others grab dinner right off the street in food carts. The night is my favorite part of Kolkata. No one looks at me—I blend in. 

I've been here for 3 weeks...crazy

I decided to clean the lab. My toilet paper came up black again and again. I can't believe they let it get like that--our work is so sensitive to contamination. What I wouldn't give to spend a day scrubbing and throwing out all the useless broken things that are hoarded. I don't think they would appreciate that though.

I went to a cultural performance at the institute to honor Tagore. There was singing and poetry and plays. All of which I didn't understand--which isn't anything new. I've learned to appreciate the nuances behind the language and let them tell a story. Sreerupa's singing stays with me long after she's done.

I met at man at the performance who is doing a summer internship in the Immunology department and is from Brandeis university in Boston! We couldn't talk much during the performances but in between we would frantically talk. He is originally from Kolkata (left when he was 7) and wants to take Michael and I around the city. He told me his name so I could look him up on facebook but I must have remembered wrong and couldn't find him. DOH. I guess we'll just have to stalk the whole Immunology department now...

All of my emotions and thoughts are heightened here because there's nothing else to do but think. Love becomes frenetic, sadness depression and little insecurities make me doubt my self worth. I usually have so many people to bounce things off of, talk me down, put me in perspective. A gaggle of girlfriends to help analyze, rationalize, and decide.

This trip is so good for me.

This summer's heat is record breaking

I came in early yesterday and finished a whole PCR before anyone came in. No one acknowledged it, but I felt proud.

2 women in the lab think I'm hilarious. I did a spontaneous twirl in lab and they cracked up. I dropped a test tube and they cracked up. Sometimes they'll say my name, look right at me, start talking in Bengali, and then crack up. Yesterday I mixed agarose up with agar and I heard them in Bengali mentioning the incident "laskdjflj Agar alskdjf ha ha." So I ran into the bathroom to cry. It's not the incident itself that was all that traumatizing but a compilation of frustrations that burst forth.

During the monsoon you have to be careful not to step into the lakes of water because you can be electrified by a fallen wire or fall into an open manhole. Both uncomfortably common.

We did a trial of a food service that would bring our meals on a daily basis at a designated time. A man brought 2 meals to our apartment when we got home at 9pm. Rice, Dall, vegetables, and a few pieces of chicken. It was fun but we haven't decided if we will order their service.

India has a languid, hearty thickness to it. It's deep and complicated--you can feel it. Its life is riddled with superstitions and religion I can only begin to recognize let alone understand.

I've been reading more Tagore. His short stories are shockingly morbid. It's appropriate as I feel India is also morbid. All the open hands and averted eyes. With no distraction from myself, India has forced me to confront my nihilistic godless life view. It's fucking depressing. Why keep going on going on when we must all stop forever?

My goal in India is to reconcile my beliefs or lack of and either find a spirituality that doesn't just quiet my thoughts but I actually believe in, or find peace in the views I hold now.

It didn't rain again. It is hot hot hot.

Rain

I was walking with Sreeerlupa and the sky became green, the birds went crazy and a gust of wind took my breath away. Then the rain came. Sreeelupa started to sing an old Indian song about the first rain. Her voice lifted up and dipped down in the back of her throat. It was beautiful but like all Bengali music seemed full of gravity and sadness to me. "Our hearts are having a drink" she sang. "They were shriveled from the heat and the sun and are now refreshed ready to beat again." I was invited to a wedding! Shrubutu's (a man in my lab) sister will be having a very traditional Bengali wedding in July. I have to buy a Saree! I worked non-stop until 8:30 pm in lab last night. I never realized how much I value my independence. Where I say when I work, eat, where I play. Even waiting for Michael to pack up to leave--he is so slow (just kidding Michael...not really.) It seems nothing is on my terms. I went home and sauteed garlic, mushrooms and store bought sauce and made pasta. I only have one pot so this took awhile. My first non-Indian-street-food in 3 weeks! I now have Internet at home again. The whole world looks brighter and I can breathe easy again. That's sick. My pictures are crappy. I wish my eyes were shutters so I can capture the craziness.

Briefs

Nothing huge has happened, just a few thoughts: The janitors dump our hazardous waste into the garbage with their bare hands and mop the chemicals from the floor, wringing it out after with bare hands. We have a little gas camping burner! I bought some vegetables from the market and plan to saute them! FRESH FOOD! I'll let you know if I die. When we have lunch, we don't "eat" we "take food" and "take tea." The tea is unbelievable here. They make it by boiling a large pot of milk and sugar and then infusing tea into it. I've gotten over my disgust at eating everything cooked outside in the dirt, with the flies, in the most unhygienic way possible. I take my tea at this filthy stand near the institute and sit on a dirty little bench with flies covering everything. Sometimes I eat it with a freshly (or should i say recently fried) samosa. Dr. Chaterjee has been working on my case trying to find me some clinical work (besides working with patient's stool) and may have gotten me a position to go on a field study to outskirt towns!!! Keep your fingers crossed--I want to do this more than anything. My computer plug melted. I was using a 2 prong adapter for my 3 prong computer plug (leaving out the grounder.) I should have known. Anyway I found a place that sells apple plugs all by myself (after 2 days of searching.) I'm really getting to know the city. The plug is British so I need an Indian adapter to fit it into the plugs and I'll need an American one when I return home :-p I let the cab driver this morning believe I was Indian and speak to me for half the ride in Bengali. I got by with side nods and smiles. And he just kept talking. Some things are the same everywhere.

Just another day of nurturing and helping Cholera to grow

Nothing much to report. Can you believe it? I guess I'm really settling in.

Sunday

Sunday lazy Sunday morning. Woke up at 10:30, wrote a little in my journal, went to the Internet cafe, got locked in an ATM room (someone had to help me get out), got some lunch, went home and watched a movie (I found a hilarious DVD rental place near my house that sorts American movies by movie stars). I took a taxi to the metro to Park street. It's so different exploring the city alone. Everything is sharper. 

 I found a cafe and started to read the Tagore I bought on College Street. His poetry was resonating and true in a completely non-pretenctious or condescending way. He talked about spirituality. Fuck incense, bowing and rituals. "Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. " He speaks of learning to learn yourself because you're the only one in it for the long haul. You can spend your whole life looking for yourself through things and people and never once shut your eyes and look inside. He tells us to stop procrastinating life away, because this is it. We're all going to die and then that will be that. "The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. " I went to a nearby temple where they have meditations every Sunday at 7pm. It was on the main street but no one was to be found. I was cautious but went around back. There were many statues illuminated with flowers and people praying at them. I sat down and soon after a gong sounded and the lights turned off. I closed my eyes and let the heat and incense of the night sink in. A half an hour passed in a few minutes and I was deeply calm but also sad. I went to find dinner using the guide book which first took me to this very loud fast food place I just couldn't handle at the moment. The only other place it had listed was a place called Ivory. Candlelit with white tablecloths, they chilled my bottled water in a bucket of ice (lol). Waiters brought out my food served it on my plate, and then waited, watching until I finished so they could reserve me some more. It was ridiculous and I couldn't enjoy it--I just felt uncomfortable. I was the only one eating alone, and I was not used to such extravagance after having eaten street food for 2 weeks. When I walked outside I found 3 homeless children laying on the sidewalk asleep. I got home feeling melancholy about life, and then it started to rain. It seems the whole city was swelling, waiting for the rain with baited breath, just getting dustier and dryer. It poured and the thunder cracked and I sat in the window and let a whole half of me get soaked before crawling into bed and falling asleep. Many of my friends are off in other countries this summer. Sreeerupa said when we all return and share, we'll have the story of the whole world.

College Street

My best day in Kolkata yet. Went into lab to check on some cultures and met up with Moumita, Sreeerupa and her sister (? I forget her name.) We get into a taxi and go to College Street. They are so fun to be around, loud and excited and very talkative. I don’t even mind when they speak in Bengali, it’s just comforting to be a part of a group of women. They pointed out everything in the taxi ride. I was very surprised to find Sreeerupa’s sister was my age. She is obsessed about getting the new Twilight book on College Street, loves Avril Lavigne and in her free time likes to draw. She was very innocent and refreshing. College Street is crazy and beautiful. Academics sit in densely packed stalls barely looking behind them as they find the book you want. Each stall has a specialty: engineering, medicine, test prep books, western lit, children’s lit etc. 

 Loud Bengali music plays from loudspeakers attatched to light posts and sets the mood. Moumita got biology books for the students she tutors, Sreeelupa a book on Physical Biochemistry—for funsies, Sreeelupa’s sister got the second Twilight book, and I got two books written by Tagore; India’s greatest modern poet (from Kolkata!) who won the Nobel Prize for his work “Gitanjali” (which I bought.) We stopped to eat lunch/drink coffee at the very famous Indian Coffee House. College Street is the heart of revolution and intellectual thought and the Indian Coffee House is the meeting ground. Many of the most influential revolutionaries and existentialists alike have sat in the huge warehouse under the fans high above ordering coffee and Chow Mein. So we did that. The cold coffee was delicious and refreshing and the food sucked and the conversation was brilliant. We talked about Indian politics and political action, about my slightly warped view on the Indian woman’s position, about their experience with the Muslim-Hindu conflict and about dance. I promised I would teach them ballet and they would teach me Indian dance! 

 We stopped at a stand to buy green coconut milk. A man with an unnervingly large machete deftly made a cup out of the milk, stuck a straw in it and handed it to each of us. It was very refreshing (but I thought I was going to die with some sort of water poisoning the entire time so I didn’t really enjoy it) and then he scraped the coconut for us to eat. 

 A tiny almost naked boy tugged on my skirt and held his hand open for me to give him money. The women shooed him off before I could do anything. I stepped over men and women in the middle of the sidewalk who fell asleep with the flies all over them. I saw a man with polio whose leg was as big as my arm. A very destitute blind man, who was smiling, was led by a woman asking for money. 

We passed the medical college’s hospital and men, women, and babies were lying on the steps crying and waiting to get in. Moumita came to my apartment after exclaiming how much she loved it and how she was going to come back very often. We sat on the balcony and talked for a few hours. I had the “Chelsea has 2 mommies” talk with her. She was less shocked about the gayness and more shocked I was artificially inseminated. Her jaw dropped. She said 2 people in India had that done (the husband was sterile) and both times it made front page news. I love being shocking and cutting edge. Quick update on the robbery thing: We found my knife in my desk drawer (which I didn’t even knew existed) and the USB internet connection and Michael’s phone is still missing. Dr. Ganguly is going to put in a police report, and the leaser will refund us the money. In the meantime Dr. Ganguly took the leaser’s copy of the key so he can no longer let workers in without us being there. Oi.

Dramatic Post

I got Internet at home using a USB connector! I had the most delicious morning. Lazily got up, turned on my computer, Internet, people I know and love talking to me when they're also up. So nice.

Then I got on the bus. Let me explain what the bus is like: You see it coming and run to catch it. It doesn't stop it slows down, so you run and grab onto the rail. You could be holding on like this for a minute as the bus starts going fast until the ticket collector (who sings out...something in Bengali and bangs on the roof when he wants to collect the money) grabs you and stuffs you into the crowd. There is no room to hear, or breathe, or move. The trick is to get into a zen like state and escape inwardly. Women hold their teeny tiny naked babies in the nook of their necks as they howl. Every looks at them and is like "I know, me too." The bus stops and starts beyond suddenly and everyone knocks heads. It's like one big team huddle, but no one ever calls "break!"

For lunch I was walking with my lab to what I thought was the canteen but then they made a wrong turn. Its funny, I hang out with them so much in a group I feel like I know what they are like but in fact they never talk in English so it's all just speculation based on their gestures and eyes. I've created whole elaborate personalities for them that probably aren't remotely true.

We had lunch at a restaurant. The men at the table ordered us all so much food to share and the waiters came and served the food onto our plates. It was a 2 hour lunch and while it was mostly quiet in my head, I had a blast laughing along when they laughed, just watching everyone and trying all of the food.

When we went home (every time we get to the door we hesitated to see what is inside) we find our leaser and 7 little Indian men fixing our microwave. Did they really need 7? Which they did fix. The leaser explained everything to us, and then told Michael "does she like this place?" Finally Michael put his foot down "you can ask her, she can hear." lol

When they left we were all antsy seeing as it was a Friday night, and took the auto to the junction and walked the stretch to the mall. I had Palak Paneer at the North Indian stand and freshly made ground lime in soda. With ice. I drank half the cup before I realized and then totally freaked out. I decided I wanted to kill those bacteria and vibrio fuckers swimming in my gut as soon as possible so we headed to a lounge and I drank a martini (filled with sterile sterile alcohol.) It was good, and nice to let loose for a second.

The lounge was hilarious and played really loud American rap. The few Indians on the dance floor looked like they were dancing in a Bollywood film.

When we got home, I went to go onto the Internet and...THE USB CONNECTOR WASN'T THERE. I tore apart my whole apartment looking for it and couldn't find it. I also realized my knife was missing and Michael's phone. We were robbed by the workers. I don't know what else they took either, those were just the few items I noticed. I knew not to leave anything of great value lying around (thankfully) so my camera, laptop, and phone are safe. But still...the USB Internet thing besides making me so upset, charges by usage so we have to cancel it. It is also not easy at all to obtain and took us a week to get in the first place.

Lame.

Thursday

Yesterday was so stupid.

I wanted to talk to Kevin online because we keep missing each other. So I got up at 7 and ready to go at 7:30. I couldn’t convince Michael to leave that early so I took my first taxi ride alone. Of course it was the only driver I’ve ever had who didn’t know where the ID hospital was so I had to tell him where to go—successfully! BAM!

I get to the lab around 8, have my online date, and then start work at 9. I worked until 9:00pm. 12 hours. It was all my fault. I had this burst of energy around 5 and was like, “yeah yeah, lets do another PCR!” And, as re-search goes I have to re-do most of the experiments with different variables because the original results were off from what we expected.

Dr. Chaterjee wanted to me to propose my own project and asked me for an idea on like day 3. I came up with some idea off the top of my head, turns out it was a very good idea, and now he is trying to see what other lab may want to take it on. Unfortunately, now that I know more about the project, it seems I picked the hardest most frustrating project and have been trying to bail ever since. I think they’ll let me because it would require a lot of resources and possibly switching to the microbio lab.

My idea: To take stoool samples from cholera patients from different infected areas that vary based on enviornment and measure the amount of GlcNAc (the protein that helps the Vibrio Cholerae bind to the intenstine) using Western Blots. The elevated amounts in certain patients rather than others may be a result of the enviornment they were infected.

Anyway at 9, grab a taxi, am starving and exhausted come home to find microwave broken so I eat cold crunchy leftover rice with a gelatinous vegetable-sauce mixture on top. Take a shower and go to sleep.

This trip is not a very sexy adventure full of living the hard life, helping patients in a hospital, attending local protests and exploring the underground. Just pipetting, beakers, too much sweat and an occasional chicken wrap.

I hate putting titles

When the landlord was taking us to our new apartment Michael and I were walking close to him as he explained how if we turned off one AC we had to wait 3 minutes before turning it on again...or powercut. We were nodding and replying and he turned to Michael and says "and you tell her" referring to me. I burst out laughing. Ok let me try to explain what it is my lab does: Vibrio Cholerae is the bacteria responsible for cholera. It binds to crustaceans and their chitin by using Chitin-binding proteins. It is also used to bind to the mucus lining in the intestines. These chitin binding proteins are activated under certain pH, temperature, salinity, nutrition etc. We are studying the promotors of these proteins by amplifying the DNA and fusing it to FOA to see the expression of FOA under different circumstances. The idea being, if we can see when and under what conditions the chitin binding proteins are promoted we may be able to control cholera outbreaks by changing the enviornment of the lakes/rivers/wells they come from. Or we could get these people some clean water. Is what I'm saying. Yesterday morning a man (sent by the leaser so he's legit...I think) came to wash our clothes. I was so suprised and ecstatic I gave him all of my clothes! All of them... When I told Moumita (which is how you spell it apparantly) she told everyone else annnd--they cracked up. I feel like Lucy from I Love Lucy. So she took me shopping at Big Bazaar. When we're walking in the street Moumita (who is only 2 years older than me and looks younger) takes my hand and says "It'll be like you're one of my sisters" and leads me around the speeding cars. In the Bazaar she was all business. Getting me 3 beautiful indian shirts, 2 gorgeous Salwars (look it up), and pair of jeans (I'm the only American that didn't think to bring jeans. "They don't wear jeans in India!" they do. A lot.) The jeans were hemmed for free right there! After we went to the mall next door. I LIVE NEXT TO A MALL! With coffee! and ice cream! and a movie theater! Oh em gee. I'm so excited about this. It'll be the perfect place to get away by myself besides sitting on the side of the road in the cow poop. The food has become an issue. In the canteen where I eat lunch it's fine. Its usually just rice, and dal and vegetables and maybe a piece of fish or an egg. I mean it's nothing much but I like it. But at dinner, around where we live, its all fried fast food. The marketplaces have lots of vegetables which look so delicious and good but i'm afraid to eat. Should I be? I mean raw? I think I can cook them now (see paragraph below). When we got home (which we are always a little afraid to do in case there is someone there telling us we can't live there anymore), there were little presents for us. A clock (or a watch as my leaser calls it), a mattress topper thing to make the bed less like cement, a microwave!!!, a mirror (the leaser wanted me to have this so much and kept saying "where do you want me to hang it, do you like it?"), a trash can, laundry basket, desk lamp and a few plastic plates and bowls. It was beautiful. The leaser came shortly after and explained it all to us. In great depth. It makes me so happy. I've decided to take the little small windowless room and Michael will pay more for the bigger one. I kind of like the smaller room. It has this very churchlike window into the kitchen, that makes the whole thing look like a monastary little living quarters. That's what I'm pretending.

Usually I get into lab an hour before Momita, which gives me an hour to go on the precious beautiful Internet. I get the shakes from not having it. It is what I miss most (besides friends and family of course! :-p). Momita came into lab early yesterday giving me only 10 minutes with it. It made me very anxious all day. I brought my GRE book and vocab cards into work to do while waiting in between experiments. Everyone was FASCINATED with my vocab cards and made me read them aloud to everyone in the lab to see if they could get them right. After lunch yesterday a large group of us went around the corner for some tea. We sat underneath some propped up fabric and this man brewed some tea over a large stove in large kettle. It was so hot outside and the tea was piping and delicious. It was chai served in these little plastic cups. Really the best tea I've ever had. The men in our group leaned their heads against each other and held hands as they talked and drank chai. The experiment we did yesterday took from 9am until 8pm. Besides doing 2 enzyme assays on my own, I helped Momita, clone, amplify, and transfect a DNA from cholera onto a protent. The new apartment is very nice. Except. One of the rooms is huge an beautiful and full of light and windows. The other is the size of a closet with no windows but a door to a balcony (which is kind of cool). The doorknobs are all broken and have cut up my hands. But I have a first aid kit to treat an army, so I'm fine. There are random things left inside the apartment I can only assume the workers are going to be taken out again. A huge beautiful sitar (i think?) is in our living room all wrapped up in bubble wrap and a little prayer altar in one of the rooms. About pictures. Every frame of Kolkata could be a picture in a National Geographic magazine. The entire country is unique and devastated. Remember Slumdog Millionaire? I would not be exaggerating if I said 85% of Kolkata looks like the slums. So as far as beautiful photos, its almost too easy and overwhelming to take. And then at the same time, I don't think I'll ever have the courage to take pictures on the street because a) I would be afraid of it being stolen b) I feel it would be extremely disrespectful. So I'll have to think of some way to take some pictures. Maybe in my next taxi ride.

Monday

I was just settling into lab, reading over my protocol for the day, getting my reagents out, when Michael comes in and says "Turns out we can't stay in the apartment anymore. We have to go look at new apartments in a few hours." My first thought was "shit. Momita is going to kill me for missing more lab." To elaborate: Apparently, the first power cut I spoke of, the one where we came home and the power was off, was real. But then the power came back on, we turned on our two ACs in our respective rooms and the power went off again. We never made the connection that maaybe we did it. We did. Annnnd our Tenants were piiiisssed. And said they no longer wanted Michael to live there. So much for till death do us part and what not. Anywayz we found a new apartment and will be moving in on Wednesday. (Michael has this theory that the second power cut, the one that was all night, was the upset secretary of tenant just turning off our electricity. Evidence: other apartments in our building had electricity, in the morning when Michael went down to find out what was up, the electricity was "turned on!" and the guy who did it was all smiles. Hmmm...intrigue.) Very sick of fast food (all that is in our neighborhood) we took an auto to a restaurant last night. The restaurant served North Indian food (the food American's associate with Indian but can't find here). I had the to die for Tandori Chicken Tikka Masala. The Naan was like a cake. Num num num. The temperature was 37 degrees Celsius yesterday. The same temperature we use to multiply bacteria on plates. All day I could feel them multiplying on me. I think I lost 5 pounds.

My first weekend

Friday Many people in India do not like Obama because he promises to stop outsourcing and as a result, many of the IT people here will lose their job. Michael’s lab threw a big party to welcome him to the Institute. My PI and I were invited to attend. Every student and doctor in the lab made a ton of food, all of which were perfectly aligned on a table with place cards next to the dishes explaining what they were. Michael was presented with a gorgeous homemade card everyone had signed welcoming him. It was very beautiful and nice, but I couldn’t help wish my lab had done the same for me. Maybe it’s because he’s staying for 7 months and I for 3? At the party everyone, including Dr. Nair the head of the institute, would address Michael first and then ask me the same question, almost as a courtesy. I tried talking louder and asking them questions as well, but it only kind of helped. Whatever fuck ‘em. I’ll show them I am just as interesting and capable of good work, even if it’s in my own female way. I went to a speech on Global Environment day that was held at the institute. Each speaker was first introduced, presented with a bouquet of flowers, and then introduced and humbled himself saying “there was no way he could talk after so many distinguished scientists.” The introductions took half the time of each allotted presentation time. One of the presenters said “I’m sure we’re all very thankful to be getting undressed here.” Tee hee hee. She meant, “addressed.” It was just a little awkward when the slides pointed to the US and how environmental progress stopped with “their” consumption rate. Woops, our bad. I talked to Dr. Chaterjee today about possibly volunteering at the hospital. He said “no” so forcibly I was taken aback. Apparently, (and obviously) it would be a big liability for me to work at the Infectious Disease hospital, and then probably get an infectious disease. It (similar to all hospitals in Kolkata) is incredibly poor and falling apart, has outdated medication and almost no sterlization techniques. I am so disappointed though. That was a major reason I wanted to come on this trip. Honestly, I don’t really like research all that much. I find it frustrating, very laborious, and hard to see the big picture. I crave a salad so bad. Saturday I attempted to do my laundry in a sink. Without a washboard, or a sink stopper. My clothes dried on a clothes line swaying in my room and came out smelling slightly better and a little crunchy from soap residue (I hope?). A really horrible feeling is waking up after a long sweaty night, taking a shower and getting sweaty from the walk from the bathroom to the bedroom, and putting on nice crunchy clothes. Michael and I decided to visit Park Street, which is apparently the nicer part of Kolkata. We didn’t know the bus to get there so we took our first taxi alone. At first the guy, who of course said he couldn’t speak a word of English (but certainly understood when we were debating money at the end) told us through gestures the meter was broken. Michael kept insisting, “no no turn on your meter” which he finally did and SHOCK was working just fine. When we got to the metro gate he told us the price tripled on the meter. Michael insisted very nicely we knew how taxis work and we wouldn’t leave the car until he gave us our change. Which he did and shooed us with his hands. Ha ha ha ha success. We got on the metro which was SOOOO nice but only does one small loop in Kolkata linking North to South (the institute and where we live is in the East). The metro had special seating for “ladies”. Park Street was not nice. It was like the extreme ghetto of New York. I guess I don’t know what I was expecting. We stopped into an Indian/Chinese restaurant (very common) and ordered our first beers. I think I saw a dead man on a side street today. I almost threw up and looked away. I look away a lot. We visited the famous Victorian Memorial, which was sooo boring seeing as I don’t know anything about Victorian history so the pictures were just of a bunch of really old dudes in frills. No connection. But the grounds were pretty. Walking back to the metro we stopped to see a free Indian concert. I couldn’t see much due to lack of height but I sat on a rail and watched everyone else. I am so used to everyone watching me, it was refreshing to sit on the outskirts and watch families and teens relaxing and having fun on their way home from work. We got home and walked around the neighborhood at night. The side streets wind between tall buildings with windows open. We can hear Bengali music and TV and smell Bengali cooking. People are coming home from work with briefcases and food they just picked up from the street. It's so much quieter. Children are pumping water from the wells to wash their faces after running around. I love our neighborhood. Sunday

We had a power outage all Saturday night and barely slept at all from the smothering heat. We woke up all groggy and disoriented and waited in the house all day for the outage to be fixed.

What drives me crazy is my inability to do anything for myself and get out. In most of Kolkata there is no such thing as stores or restaurants or anything you can get away to and sit in. Everything is a counter top on the side of the building or set up on the street. I don't know my way around the city enough to go someplace else, and I don't know of a place if I did. So I'm stuck. Sometimes I get so claustrophobic in this country from inability to get clean, be cool, find food, be understood, find things to do and hear from my loved ones. I want to just say “ok, that was interesting. I’m getting on the plane to come home now.”

We’ve opened all our windows because of the power outage. I’m sitting on a windowsill. I’ve learned to take showers and roll my hair up into a bun still wet so the water will trickle down my neck to keep me cool. There are two crumbling buildings in my view, large water supply wells on top look like they’ll crash through the roofs. As stray dog sniffing around, women hanging up their clothes on a line, fucking loud crows (I hate them so much) and Bengali music—a woman’s voice high and foreign but powerful and emotional.

Still kind of depressed Michael and I watched Waltz with Bashir and then showed each other photos or friends, family and Gainesville on the computer. Bad idea and bad idea.

At night, itching to get out, I went to a cyber cafe. While I was waiting (for an hour, but at least it was air conditioned) I talked to some Kolkata people my age. One was a very nice engineer, and the other two were a punked out couple with tattoos and rancid shirts. At first very surly with their responses, I got them to open up when we talked about music. I asked them what they do for fun and they said the boyfriend DJ's at a local club called The Underground. Am definitely going to check that place out. Once I figure out where it is, how to get there, and get some clothes other than the 4 pairs I've been wearing and wearing again. They're beyond disgusting.

Another day in Kolkata

How I got to work yesterday: Walked from my apartment to main street, waited approximately 15 minutes for not full bus to come, no luck, got into auto rickshaw (very small golf cart thing fits (very squished-like) 3 in front including driver and 3 in back, with no sides, only rails. The drivers feel they are invincible and love to speed directly at oncoming buses and swerve away at the last second.) to a larger street with more buses. Ran and jumped onto a bus and squeezed in. The bus was packed, very bumpy and over 100 degrees. Mmm. From the bus, we caught another auto rickshaw to the hospital and walked a few blocks to the institute. I was very grumpy all day.

Momita and I finished our experiment early and went to the South mall. 4 marble stories tall complete with stores, fancy restaurants, a Thai spa, a 3-D Imax theater, tons of coffee and sweet shops and flat screens playing Bollywood Films. Momita had never been there so we bought ice cream and sat and talked. The language barrier is significant and exhausting. Talking slowly, my hands are a puppet show of gestures and facial expressions larger than life. We often grow tired of saying "what do you mean?" and will just nod in agreement or laugh. To add more confusion, Indians bop their head from side to side or shake their head to mean "yes' not "no".

Michael and I's trip home was hot, packed, so loud, polluted, stressful and an hour long. When we get to our house, excited for A/C, we find a power cut. It was not funny but so funny. With nothing to do we swapped life stories, chased a huge lizard around the apartment and spied on our neighbors. The power came back on in a few hours, and I was too tired and hot to find dinner, took and shower and crawled into bed.

I have seen so much of Kolkata but have not been able to live it. My days are so long and tiring and monotonous. Will I ever find the energy to go out after lab? To have fun? Will I ever get comfortable here?

Day 3

I nailed my protein assay today. Nailed it. Perfect standard curve. I should frame it. In lab, they breed mice so they can kill them to have mouse antibodies instead of just ordering the antibodies from a catalog! There are so many steps of preparation before you can even start an experiment here. I'm surprised they can get anything done. Although it may be the stopping to talk and eat between every step. The work ethic was explained to me: "We are in lab for 10-11 hours but probably only work 6-7 hours." This is so frustrating to me. I want to come into work, finish and leave so I can relax and explore. Instead of leaving at 7, going to the store, getting home at 9:30 taking a shower to scraped off the cakes of dirt, and decide I'm too tired to go out and find food and just go to sleep (last night.) Maybe it'll be easier when I start my own project and can work when I want.

I was working hard all day, but while we were waiting for something to autoclave Momita (my mentor) wanted me to sign her up for facebook. We were doing that when Sir (what they call the lab director, otherwise known as Dr. Chaterjee) walks in for the first time all day and asks what we were doing. *sigh*

We had a birthday today. I walked with 2 women from the lab to this beautiful bakery to get cake, ice cream, and...chicken sandwiches for the party. On the cake walk, I learned to press my ring finger and thumb together when I see stray dogs--wards them off, to walk on the edge of a street when it's being occupied by football, and how to say "cho"- come, "donobaad"- Thank Y0u, and "Dukatu"- Sorry. They made me repeat my words to everyone we met, after which they would all laugh. I'm apparently hilarious.

Our party was on the rooftop of the institute. The skyline was haunting. Once beautiful big buildings, now without roofs or windows. The slums looked like a stretched circus tent from all of the fabric roofs. Hundreds of crows circle the city dipping in and out of the hovering cloud of pollution.

After work Michael and I were taken to the Big Bazaar. An indoor huge superstore. A man stood at the door with a microphone emphatically repeating all the sales and the many "buy one get one free" sales. Signs said "we keep the price low at any cost." The snack isle had food called "tasties," "nice," and "snackies." Women's creams boasted to make their skin lighter in 7 days! The store was a mess, and beside every 10 items was a person asking if you wanted any help. We got our purchases: laundry soap, towel, sheet, pillow, mosquito repellent wall plugs, shampoo, bottled water and toilet paper.

Dr. Sandipan went to the tenants of our apartment to convince them we were actually married, students, and good kids. He took with him: a copy of our passport, CV, and a picture of Michael and I trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It worked. "For now."

Day 3: Not sick!

Addendum to Last Entry

I don't know if the last part of my last entry was coherent. I was (and am) feeling frantic about the situation. I have been battling enormous guilt since I arrived. "Sorry and Thank You" is my mantra. Sorry for messing up my experiment and using reagents I'm sure you can't afford, Thank You for making your students accompany me everywhere, Sorry I made you stay out late away from your family to help me find a towel and food, Thank You for spending hours negotiating with the landlord on my behalf, Sorry for being a woman, Sorry for being white. They don't seem to having this shuffling guilt. They yell at waiters and cab drivers, ignore maintenance men and demand what they want from store owners. I need to learn from them because the way I've been acting makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little. I was so shocked when the tenants said they didn't want me and my husband Michael (:-p) to live there. My money isn't good enough? What did I do to you? I have never been the brunt of prejudice. It was humbling.

The Dillema

First day at lab: managed to completely screw up my protein assay-standard curve was a joke, forget completely how to convert from moles, when looking for reagents forget sodium bicarbonate was also known as sodium hydrogen carbonate…things just kept compiling until I started messing up on say counting test tubes and forgetting how to tell the time. The people in the lab do not yell at me when I do something wrong, they just outright laugh. But it’s you’re so silly laugh not a you’re a fucktard laugh.

I ate a big plate of Bengali food in the canteen (cafeteria type place for the institute) for lunch. 20 cents. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I don’t think I like the Bengali fish because it has many pin bones in it (which they eat) and stick in my throat. Apparently eating in the Canteen was very adventurous and we were appreciated all day for liking their “real food.”

Everything approaches when you make eye contact. Men, begging children, stray dogs—I have learned to look at the floor when I’m walking somewhere. It really upsets me. I’m missing Kolkata because I’m too cautious to look. Maybe I’ll learn how to.

We were told we were going to move to our apartments and got in a cab. The cab ride was a complete adventure. At times we were speeding so fast I had to hold on to my seat and at others the traffic jams were so bad our driver turned off the engine. The windows were open and the pollution created a haze around the car lights. You could feel it sting your eyes, burn your throat and churn in your stomach. In the plane ride the entire city was cloaked in a veil of it lined with beautiful green ring. The garbage takes many forms in the city. It becomes resting areas, is propped up for storefronts and huddled together for housing. It was eerie looking at market places, only illuminated by torches, the black silhouettes sorting between garbage and product.

We get to Michael’s apartment and look around and then walk around 10 blocks to my apartment through busy and then through very dark and quiet streets. Ok so 1) The only thing I asked the Institute for in regards to housing is to not live alone 2) I had no idea Michael was living so far away 3) we are paying $530 a month each!!!!!!!!!

The longer I’m in the dark streets walking to my apartment the more I start hyperventilating. The apartment is very simple but pretty (I’ll post pictures when I can). It has AC, a bed that feels like the floor, 2 bedrooms!, a shower with a drain that's a whole in the wall all on the same level as the toilet (not a squat toilet!) a "kitchen" with a sink, and a desk without a chair. It's bright and airy and very clean. I really like it.

But I was starting to freak out at the prospect of living alone. Michael saw I was upset, asked what was wrong, and I started to cry. One of the PI's struck a deal with the landlord asking if Michael and I could stay in the same apartment. Oh and that we were married. He said yes but he would have to pass the new living arrangements with the other tennats to see if they approved. When I left for the institute this morning I was told the tennats didn't believe we were married and didn't want us to live together. We are going to try to ask the tenants in the building where Michael's apartment is and see if they're ok with it, but Dr. Sandipan doesn't think they will be.

So know here's my dillema: Should I stay alone or continue to create this big mess for everyone (the Institute signed the apartments for 3 months so we would have to find the money to pay for that if we wanted to live somewhere else) and continue to search for living options where I'm not alone?

I stayed in the apartment alone by myself last night (b/c there was only one bed in each apt) and didn't feel scared in the slightest. Should I chalk up my initial scare due to culture shock? Because I arrived at a strange place at night? (everything looked less threatening this morning) Should I live in the apartment alone? I want opinions!

Also keep in mind it would be a huge hassle to arrange something else on everyone's end, 2) the apartment has so many locks and gates it feels like a jail cell.

My first day

30 hours later I got off the plane and rammed into hundreds of people and screaming babies filling out cards for swine flu. The leaky crumbling airport was so simple I was shocked when I saw a woman, Esha, holding my name because it meant I must have went through customs without knowing it.

The car ride didn't click. It just looked like one of the many youtube videos I watched in preperation: no lanes-cars/people/cows/rickshaws weaving through the streets, mountains of garbage with similar looking wild dogs and people looking through them, huge billboards advertising Samsung cell phones and a naked boy beneath them. FOR REALSIES PEOPLE.

I was very distracted from the window because Esha kept asking me what my background in biochemistry was, how was I selected for this program, was I familiar with genetics processing? I couldn't tell if it was shop talk or hazing.

We go straight to the institute, which shockingly is also falling apart. In the labs I learned they reuse everything. Pipette tips, broken beakers, kim wipes are toilet paper. No gloves are used and there is no hazardous waste receptacle, everything is just autoclaved. Eew. "Just wash your hands a lot so you won't get Cholera. We're already immune." Super.

After I met everyone (so nice) and saw the institute they handed me a stack of literature to read. The words were swimming and I used all my concentration not to fall asleep. Michael and I insisted on having Indian food for lunch and we were accompanied to a restaurant and had delicious Bengali food, Naan and chicken masala. OMG itwas so fucking delicious. I have never been so full.

They took us to our tempoary guest room and we passed out (4pm). 2 HOURS LATER another lab director knocked on our door to take us to dinner. No. Go Away. What, really?

We get into a van and see Kolkata at twilight. The birds and barking dogs sound like a jungle. A man sillougheted under some propped up fabric stirring a pot. Children running around in so much garbage. But laughing. The director was playing "country road, take us home, to a place, where I belong, West Virgina..." We just had to laugh. I will never think of that song the same way again.

We get to a modern mall and he takes ust o Pizza Hut. I'm too weak (and still so full) to argue about authenticity and ate the damn pizza and went "home" to bed. (guest room again).

Day 1, still not sick!

Where the fuck am I?