Frustration

Matt

India is frustrating. That's pretty well known. Late trains, incompetent taxi drivers, food poisoning and not being able to understand Hindi are all frustrations made obvious to us before wed embarked on this trip. But as I spend more time in this vibrant country, assimilating into a new half-Indian, half-tourist lifestyle and routine I feel I'm starting to get used to these daily frustrations that appear at the surface of the deep ocean that is India. As I descend further into this culture I am discovering new frustrations.

Let's start with the small stuff I have begun to notice. When I was sick and lying in bed for hours on end I would continually hear the song of the elevator moving. It was a short high pitched piano tune which might have been nice the first, second and third times but after hearing it what seems like thousands of times I hate the tune. Whenever I might whistle now all I can whistle is that damn song and that frustrates me. Another thing is the beeping of horns. Who decided that they are better than indicators? I mean it works all right but it doesn't help clearly not so important tasks such as sleeping, thinking and walking. I'd rather not get a jump scare every time I walk around a blind corner on the street. This frustrates me.

The last two days (Saturday & Sunday) have been rainy and colder. How come in your 'dry' season India I have 2 pairs of soaking socks and mud all over my legs from muddy fields? I like dry socks. A lot. Thus wet socks frustrate me. Furthermore, do any of you readers know about the "White Person Tax"? For those of you unversed in the politics of Indian shopping traditions a vendor will always charge a foreigner about 5 times what an Indian would get it for as their first offer. If you are lucky and have a good technique you might get the seller down to just less than double the Indian price. For example this afternoon I bartered down a pair of silk, patterned Ali Baba's from 850 Rupees ($17) to 250 Rupees ($5). It blood, sweat and the promise of recommendations to other boys but as I was told by the Jungle Crows earlier that week they would pay a maximum of 200 Rupees for the pants. Either my bartering skills are trash (quite possible) or I stink of rich, white, foreigner to all the vendors (highly likely with Nikes on). Just because I have a very bad tan is not a reason to overcharge me. But as frustrating as that is they need the money more than me so I can look past it.

Kolkata is home to 14.1 million people and it seems their educations lacked global warming, recycling and pollution as part of their syllabuses. I haven't had a fresh breath of air since Singapore and I dislike having grey mucus. How you don't die of lung cancer by 25 in this city is a complete mystery to me and I'm not looking forward to Delhi where I may have to wear a mask to stop my oesophagus from looking like the inside of a chimney. Please Darjeeling bring some fresh air to end that frustration. Something I underestimated about markets such as Newmarket was how annoying the guys who stand outside and try to direct you to stalls are. I knew of their fabled existence but nothing could prepare me for their 'sweet talk'. "What you want?" "I show you my shop" "No tax on a Sunday" and similar are phrases now ingrained into my mind. To all you promoters out there No I don't need a Sari to wear, nor do I need a Christmas tree or Pashmina scarfs. I have a pretty good sense of direction and I like to just browse so please go offer your "student discount" to someone else.

But despite all these things that frustrate me, big or small, I have enjoyed my stay in Kolkata. It functions as a home for fourteen million people and it functioned for me too. I have created some life long memories and met some incredible people. I welcome the change of environment that awaits in Darjeeling and I am excited to change dirty, concrete apartments for breezy, tea plantations. But in all seriousness Kolkata, you have been amazing to me and I will return to your streets again.