KNomadically wandering the streets of Kolkata, without a map!

After four days of rain and the consequent flooding, yesterday (Friday) out came the sun and suddenly the whole place looks and feels different. Yes, the vicissitudes of daily life are still there, (for everyone by varying degrees), the traffic is impossible, the pavements clogged and the humidity soaring (95%)
I realised just how much I love Calcutta (The return to the along with the original name of Kolkata still seems odd to me).

Had a great rehearsal with the orchestra and had meetings with the CSM President Ms. Dickoo Nowrejee and Council Member Mr. Sam Medora along with Head of Western Music Mrs Chaitali Ganguly, they were keen to get my views on the state of the orchestra and ideas for future plans. Dropping very broad hints about my future involvement. The centenary of the school is in the 2014/2015 academic year and they want to revive the Calcutta Symphony Orchestra for this and have a really big celebratory concert (or two).

The carrot that is being dangled is that the Calcutta Chamber Orchestra effectively becomes mine to direct and I oversee its evolution into the Calcutta Symphony Orchestra. I would be invited to be in Calcutta for 4 or 5 months each year, and accommodation would be provided by way of honorarium. I would also be expected to direct a "season" of 5 or 6 concerts per annum with other events and developments as I saw fit, when not here, the orchestra would be learning the music ready for the next "season." I would also have an honorary position teaching in the Music School. I have to say this is looking very attractive.

So this weekend I am thinking about this, whilst it does not affect my plans for Peru it may mean curtailing my time planned for Ecuador with a return to the UK in early July rather than late August. I would be expected in Calcutta from mid-July to November end. I would then set off for Bolivia and Paraguay early December 2013 - I do not want to stop my Latin American adventure or miss the baroque music festival in the jungle of Bolivia in April 2014.

I cannot say how happy I am to be back in the music driving seat! Conducting is so satisfying and taxing, and the teaching opportunities with bright and talented pupils very appealing.

But today, Saturday, I am off on foot to re-explore central Kolkata after 13 years and for some tourist things, after 22 years, when I first visited with my dear friend James at New Year 1990 and our encounter with "as the lonely planet guide put it" the loquacious Mrs Purdy.

Mrs Purdy ran a run down guest house just of Chowringhee Lane, James and I, and a hapless couple - who were missionaries - we where fairly forcefully told that we would celebrate new year with her - the most revolting chicken biryani was served to us all in the dark (power cut) - the place was filthy, you could lift the dust on shelves up like a mat - and like all her guests we checked out the very next morning - Mrs Purdy shouted curses at us as we got into our taxi ...... such a shame as James and I had hoped to live it up a little on Park Street at the Moulin Rouge, or maybe Magnolias, clubs which were (and still) are a hang over from an earlier era under the British! 

Back to my walk. Kolkata has to be seen on foot, the historic central part of the city has its famous thoroughfares and off of these are the lanes, markets and bazaars. Old Kolkata is falling down, it has always been falling down, since the heyday of the East India Company (the honorable company) and it, "Calcutta," being the original capital of India. Today many of the old house still stand, ramshackle and dilapidated but still inhabited. Those who have sold up have had their plots flattened and concrete monstrosities now replace these gems.

Passing through a small gate on Park Street, I entered the South Part Street Cemetery, which is probably the most important colonial cemetery in the East and is known as the "Great" cemetery. The place is amazing, quiet, cool, moss covered mausoleums lining the gravel paths and walkways. Home to wildlife, the most amazingly huge snails, a few dogs but no interference of of notices or information points of later ages. You just wander and adsorb a little of the lives of those sleeping beneath your feet.

Having signed the visitors book, the comments book and the donations book by purchasing a Rs 100 guide book I struck off up Park Street to find the birthplace and home of my friend and to see what had changed since our visit here in January 1990. I was asking people for "Bhowani" Mansions but eventually happened upon the correct name of Karnani Mansions which are now a mix of homes and flats used as offices. These imposing mansion blocks were for the elite of Calcutta society - James' father was Commodore with the East India Shipping Company.

The area around Park Street includes the Anglican Archbishops House, elite schools, the cathedral, the masonic lodge, departmental stores, and mansion blocks all of which date back to the 19th century and earlier. Park Street and Park Circus are like the Piccadilly Circus and Regent Street of London.

I decided that as I will probably be in Kolkata for some longer stretches I would not tarry, but struck on up Park Street and into the Maidan (the huge park and breathing lung of this city, the land owned by the Indian army) entering you are immediately into the great parks of the London, it could easily be Hyde Park or the park surrounding a stately home. Except that people are bathing in the lake, flocks of sheep and goats, tended by shepherds, range freely in the park, the Territorial Army was conducting driving tests for truck drivers, cricket coaching was happening and in the mid-morning the place was relatively deserted. Oh, yes and trams trundle through a few tree lined avenues in the park. At the southerly end the tower of the Cathedral and the amazing confection of the Victoria Memorial. In the east the towers of the suspension bridge crossing the Hooghly River.

On arriving at the entrance to the Victoria Memorial and being very put off by the fact that an Indian can enter for Rs.30/- but a Foreigner must pay Rs.150/-, I decided that gawping at good Queen Vic could wait and took off down the nearest street in what I thought was the general direction of Ballygunge and my guest house. As it turned out I was going south rather than east but happened upon some fascinating street markets, of course in India nobody wishes to appear ignorant so everybody I asked "Ballygunge" all nodded sagely and sent me in the first direction that came into their heads. I wandered for 2 hours like this and was never more than 15 minutes away from my target! But wandering map-less is so exciting and I would never have seen the back street markets, the fish sellers, the rickshaw wallahs, the decay, and general hubhub of residential central Kolkata. Far off the tourist track.

Despite the efforts of the government to ensure all speak Hindi as a compulsory 2nd language, English remains the means of communication in a country with 16 official languages and over 1000 dialects and variations, the parliament itself uses Hindi and English. In Kolkata they speak Bengali. Indian English has its own dictionary (OUP) and the English of India harks back to pre 1947, it is still wonderfully stilted, and has its own rules and grammar, particularly with regards to continuous ... "I am not knowing what you are talking about" younger Indians lace their with idioms picked up from the movies, Star TV and MTV.

I watched as washing was being done using the water running in the gutter, some hotel resident probably imagining that their clothes were being lovingly washed by machine. I realised early on that when sending washing it was highly likely to come back with missing buttons from the thrashing it will have been given over a stone (if washed in a river) or over a kerb (if washed, as here, in the road) or over any other inanimate object!

Children and teenagers will normally call out "hello uncle, how are you liking Kolkata?" Uncle being a term of endearment to an older stranger, much nicer than the "Sahib" or "Sir" from their seniors. But getting people to use my first name is very difficult as formality is also ingrained. For instance:

I made it clear that with the orchestra if i was at the conductors rostrum my name was Sir or Mr. Michael and when we were having tea or socialising they could call me Michael. It won't happen, I will be forever "Mr. Michael Sir" the giving of respect being an important part of Indian culture, and to ride roughshod over it is in itself a huge mark of disrespect. With the directors and President of the music school we are on first name terms but that is to show a level of superior intimacy that other may only aspire to! Anybody inadvertently using my first name with be immediately corrected "Michael .... you mean Mr. Mott" and who is to blame for all this ....... even though 1947 is a long time ago these habits are enshrined.

Finally for now, on my walk I came across a number of cinemas (India is after all film crazy) some still going, some closed but all bearing the signs of a wonderful architectural heritage, and still having and using their "house full" signs, their separate entrances depending on your class of ticket, and the multi-cinema concept is still a rarity and confined to newly constructed venues.

Today (Sunday) sees the departure of Akshay, being replaced by his elder brother Jadu Moni Das(47) and father of Sanjay. This guest house has been run for Mrs Singh by the same family from Orissa for 29 years, starting with Jadu's father. Jadu is an excellent cook and I am looking forwards to some of his cooking (extra charge) starting today with a north Indian fish curry - which i suspect will be so mild compared to the Kerala version. But I suspect the temptation to eat my food on the pavements and in small daba's (very small and cheap cafes) will prove too great. Yesterday, I had Chana Masala and salad with 3 rumali rotis for Rs 61. (75p) a posher place would charge Rs.25 for a single rumali roti! Despite the outward dingyness of these places, the food is fresh, you can see it being cooked, and with so much competition standards are actually high in terms of taste and it doesn't come more authentic. Rumali Roti are a North Indian bread, rumal means handkerchief and these roti are paper thin, circular and about 20 inches across and come folded or gently crumpled. Your tear a bit off and use that to grasp a mouthful of your curry. mmmmmmm here is a video of a crazy guy making roomali roti!

Of course I am in another kind of paradise here, foooooood! So different to Kerala food, but so very very very varied. The street food stalls offer just about every combination available! And I plan to try to eat as much of it as possible - you cannot imagine the "brownie points" you earn as a foreigner eating street food, you are immediately brother, uncle, son and 100% an honorary Indian.

A random selection of pics .....

The ability to a)write and b) type is a useful source of income!

Famously, outdated!

Back into the groove now ..................

I have put LOADS more photos of my walk you can see them here:

(or go to my facebook page)

Part 1 click here

Part 2 click here

Part 3 click here

Tales from the orchestra will follow shortly......

All that chai! All those single use pots!

Men die whilst pulling these rickshaws, but they would also die for the right to continue to pull them. I cannot bring myself to use one.

Fish gutters at work ..... the smell!!!!!!

But for now, hope you are enjoying this exploration of my favourite Indian city.  And yes it is BREATHTAKING  -   which sometimes means the smell is such that it completely takes your beath away - you just learn to breathe through your mouth!!


Until next time .........