Kolkata. A football match, a polar bear and cake.
on Roundabouts in Delhi (India), 07/Sep/2011 17:51, 34 days ago
AlthoughI’m not the biggest football fan and can count the number of live matches I’veattended on three fingers, I was sold on the idea of attending a ‘never beenseen before’ event in India (two South American teams playing on Indian soil)and the chance to return to Kolkata, a city that I first visited in April thisyear and fell in love with.Thefootball match was an interesting experience. It was less about the two teamsplaying (Argentina vs. Venezuela) and more about one man, Lionel Messi,“Consideredthe best football player of his generation and increasingly one of the bestplayers of all-time,” – Wikipedia (luckily I wasn’t quizzed about him at thetime otherwise it would have been anotherSachin Tendulkarmoment). The whole stadium wasgripped with Messi mania so much so that the only time people cheered was whenMessi had the ball. They’d handily stuck him in a pair of luminous yellowtrainers making him easier to identify, not that you could really miss him. Thestrangest moment was just before the game started when, instead of standing upto cheer, everyone sat down and if you didn’t conform you promptly had a boiledsweet thrown at your head from someone in the rows behind. I was glad that Iwent as although the game was a little slow (apparently no one wants to getinjured at a friendly which is why it’s a bit more like a gentle kick about) itwas definitely an experience to witness and I can now add Messi to my ‘sportspeople that I know something about’ list of about seven people. Oh, andArgentina won 1-0.So,why do I like Kolkata so much? Its population is even denser than Delhi’s,there are twice as many traffic accidents (the yellow taxis, autos andmotorbikes drive at lightning speed and although there is a one way system, atcertain times of day it changes so the traffic has to suddenly switch and go inthe opposite direction) and it has some of the most ingenious use ofspace I’veever seen. On this visit we went into a jewellery shop that was the size of abroom cupboard and could just about accommodate the small grey haired man thatran it and one other person. He looked pretty bewildered that we’d stumbledupon the place and even more confused when we purchasedstuff. It’s possible wehad accidentally walked into his cupboard.Highpopulation density, traffic accidents and shops the size of cupboards, mycriteria for a‘great’ city. Guess that’s what living in Delhi does to you.There’s more to it though as Kolkata has certain things that Delhi doesn’t; Peter Cat andFlurysfor example–Peter Cat serves the most amazing Bengali fish, meat and veggie dishes andtheir Kabuli naan ispossibly one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. I went into Flurys for thefirst time this visit and would have probably stayed there and not returned toDelhi if I didn’t have a job I needed to get back for. They serve the bestcoffee I’ve tasted in eight months and cakes that are so good I felt a sense ofloss and sadness when I’d finished the last bite, mind you I do have a strongemotional attachment to most baked goods. There are also certain things Inotice in Kolkata that you wouldn’t generally see in Delhi; couples holdinghands in public view (hand holding between men and women is a clandestineactivity usually reserved for the parks in Delhi), you see more women on thestreet in groups together or performing roles that are usually reserved for menin Delhi (running small shops and darbars – street food stalls), and mostpeople don’t bat an eyelid at foreigners walking down the street, unless youare visiting one of the public attractions in which case you become more interestingthan the attractions and will most likely be approached for the usual familyphoto calls (to be in them, not take them).Kolkataalso has some of my favourite sights. This was my second visit to Park Street Cemetery, opened in 1767 and where British Captains, Earls, Shipmasters, Viceroys andtheir family members who worked and lived in Kolkata during the British Rajwere buried. Some of the graves and memorials are engraved with the mostbeautifully written and heartfelt dedications to deceased wives, husbands andfamily members and others are interesting markers of the past, including thosewhich document some of the more cringe-worthy colonising‘achievements’ of the deceased.The cemetery was originally built on marshland and at this particular time ofyear the rains had caused a layer of bright green moss to grow over thememorials creating the atmosphere of a jungle graveyard in the middle of thecity. When you visit you are asked to sign the visitors’ book by the two caretakers that look after the cemetery. They always seem delighted to see visitors (it’s mostlyonly interested foreign visitors that go there now) and are keen to tell you about thecemetery’s history and past visitors.AlthoughI didn’t visit it this time round, the first time I visited Kolkata I went totheIndian Museum.Possibly one of my favourite museums yet, controversially because of the fact itlooks as though it has been completely untouched since the Victorian era. Huge dustyglass cases containing a giant walrus, the brownest polar bear I’ve ever seen,large lumps of asbestos (I’ve never walked so quickly past an exhibit), walebones and other more unsavoury specimens. Not for everyone I admit, but being amuseum geek I found it sort of fascinating to see a museum that has become amuseum piece in itself.Kolkatawas the capital of India during the British Empire’s reign over India and thecentre of the East India Trading Company until the capital was moved fromCalcutta/Kolkata to Delhi in 1911. Hence the existence of sights like the ParkStreet Cemetery, St Paul’sCathedral and Kolkata’s centrepiece, the Victoria Monument, animpressive white marble building surrounded by neatly cut lawns, lakes andflowerbeds and a large sombre statue of Queen Victoria heading up the entrance.Apparently many of the other colonial monuments in Kolkata have since beendestroyed or renamed and Victoria Monument is one of the few that has remainedand kept its name. I have to admit that my attachment to Kolkata is tinged witha slight sense of guilt, as part of the reason for my attachment is possiblybecause there are aspects of the city that remind me of home and of my country's own history. This on its own wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it weren’t a pointin our history when the British were entering cities like Kolkata, milking thecountry’s resources and enforcing their politics, legislation, language,architecture and own cultural ‘norms.’ And those are the milder details. Notexactly our finest moment. However, it’s a point in history all the same andone that shouldn’t be forgotten, if only so that we never repeat the samemistakes and I’m grateful that these particular monuments and reminders still remain.WhenI returned to Delhi I was comparing notes with my colleague who had been in Kolkatajust a few days before me. When he found out that I had not tried a singleBengali sweet on either visit I was greeted with the now all too familiarperplexed look and sad shaking of the head which signifies,“have we taughtthis British girl nothing during her eight months in India?” The same shakingof the head which I received the time I did not know keeping anonion in your pocketwas the secret of staying cool or the time I did not know that raw eggwas“obviously” the cure for hair loss, or that the reason I kept getting sickwas because I’d not been taking my daily dose of curd (natural yoghurt).Soif you go to Kolkata, don’t forget to try the Bengali sweets.