Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Last week in Kolkata

My final week in Kolkata. My final week in Kolkata. I fit in so much that here is a brief recap:

Got back from Rajasthan and was suffering from post-vacation blues. Waking up and going to work just wasn’t going to cut it anymore after nights under the stars and days exploring new worlds. I started another round of experimental hell week, which made work just barely bearable. The mice screwed up the results again and I ended up with only 9 data points (after 21) so it’s not even worth reporting.

On Wednesday night, Sebastian and James from Mt. Abu came down to Kolkata and met Michael and I at a pub for some beers. We sat down at a big wood table for hours and people kept sitting next to us. We met Dan, an Australian, who was in Kolkata for a week and a slurring couple from Ireland.

Friday night we all (Sebastian, James, Dan, Michael, 2 guys who met Sebastian in Kolkata, and me) went to the pub for drinks, and then out to a club. In America, I have only been to one club, where some guy licked my face, so I didn’t have very high hopes. Before the club Dan, Michael and I sat at a street stand and were served 2 plates full of steaming Chinese momos. I love Kolkata.

All 7 of us (excluding the driver) packed into a tiny taxi and drove around to several clubs to check them out. Clubs treat women like royalty. I was always allowed in for free immediately, and the men had to pay huge fees and then sometimes were looked over at the door to see if they were desirable enough to be allowed in. We settled on the club Venom, which was on the 11th floor, chic as hell, and had an incredible view of the city. The guys didn’t have to pay because we met the DJ on the way up and he let us in for free. We got it like that. The club was great. They had a rule that no man could be on the dance partner without a female partner. I was in heaven. With 7 dance partners, I never left the dance floor. Until I had to, because I had to go into work the next day (Saturday.)

Saturday was spent at the New Market in a blur of haggling, loud hand gestures, sweat, cha, and tears. And I finished all my present shopping for my family.

Sunday night Moumita invited Michael and I over to her parent’s house for dinner. Her parents have a very simple house with a rooftop garden that overlooks a lake. The house is under construction so all the women (Moumita, the mother, and 2 younger sisters) all sleep in the same bed. They sisters were beautiful and excited to show me their new (and first) computer the family just installed. Moumita’s mother didn’t know English but was elegant and understated and all smiles. When Moumita explained I want to learn how to cook Bengali food, she had me pull up a chair and watch as she squatted, kneading bread onto a wood piece on the floor. Moumita showed me how to make Cha masala.

The dinner was a feast beyond my wildest dreams. We had vegetable fried rice, delicious marinated chicken, puffy buttery bread, subjee, chutney… After dinner the father showed us some of his expert photos he had taken of the family and their vacation. They were so beautiful. It was obviously a passion. We showed interest so he brought out…every photo he’d ever taken. Meanwhile, the mother ushered me into the backroom with the sisters and took out one of her Sarees. Moumita explained to her mother my saree wrapping nightmares and wanted to make sure I could properly fold one so I could wrap Fiona (my sister) up in the one I bought her. We practiced after dinner over and over until I finally got the hang of it. I felt like such an Indian girl, practicing with her mom in the back room. The mother kept insisting we stay the night, but I think the King size bed was full enough. So reluctantly, we left the warm family and made our way back to the apartment.

The next night I took Moumita and Michael out to a very fancy restaurant and we all ordered drinks, appetizers and big meals. It was fun. I gave moumita her early birthday/going away present: a silver ring and earring set inlaid with peridot (her birthstone).

The next day my lab threw me a party. All of the sirs sat on chairs with Michael and I while the our lab co-workers stood and served everyone food and drink. Each person took a turn saying a very personal goodbye to me. I’m such a sucker for nostalgia, it took all I had to keep from crying. They gave me a mug with a pictures of me in a saree and with my hands hennaed. After each gift was presented, everyone clapped, and the gift was passed around and admired.

On my final day in lab I took my coworkers and sirs out to a delicious fancy lunch. It seemed the courses never stopped coming. In India, people order many courses of food, but the concept of your own meal is not understood. Instead, the waiter serves a little bit of each dish onto each plate. The meal turns into more of a tasting event.

My last night, Michael brought us home my favorite Chicken Tikka Masala from Shiraz. I got my hands hennaed and my eyebrows tweezed one more time. In the morning he picked me up with chicken rolls for the plane and took me to the airport. The long taxi ride was surreal and heartbreaking. I was leaving. Probably forever. Michael and I hugged for a long time at the airport. We had such an accelerated relationship and had grown so close over the last 3 months. I will really miss him. He promised to tell me about lab, Kolkata, and our apartment via email as he will be staying for another 4 months. I boarded the plane for another 30 hour adventure back to the states and said goodbye to the city from the sky.

I’ll be updating one more time so stay tuned…

My labmates


1 comment: