Wednesday, November 8 I'm Broke, Frantic Run to Airport and Train in Kolkata

I have absolutely no money because I’m booking all my travel arrangements for my two-week trip to South India in December. I also had to pay rent to the Jains. And I also had to pay my “tutors” for writing my papers. And I also still have to spend more money on my upcoming vacation to West Bengal and Orissa. And not to mention all the things I still need to buy in Delhi for presents and for my use at home (since everything is drastically cheaper to buy here). I got out of Hindi after telling Geeta-Ji that I would be gone next Monday. She was pissed, saying “Catch up because you’ve missed a lot of class, or you won’t pass”. When I got home I rushed to take a shower and pack for my 6:30 flight to Calcutta (now called 'Kolkata', and in the future, I will refer to it as the latter). I ran to the taxi stand, and had the driver take me to the ATM first. Remember when I said ‘I’m broke’? I called Mom earlier today, and she said she transferred in money, but the only problem is, since I’ve been spending so much money lately, the bank froze my account. I got to the airport after stitting through gridlocked traffic, stressed about being on-time. I should have known in India that worrying is pointless, as my flight was delayed 30 mintues. This continues my streak of no flights in India being on-time thus far. I called Mom at 4 am her time to tell her to call the bank to unfreeze my account. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even afford dinner, so I had to sit in the waiting room for the flight, which was delayed another half-hour. This is bad because I have a train to catch at 10:30. The SpiceJet flight finally departed at 7:45, it took 2 hours to reach Kolkata, I had to wait for my bags to at the baggage claim because toiletries have to be checked, and the train station is on the opposite side of town from the airport. I was stressed the entire time. I’m convinced SpiceJet is the Southwest Airlines of India…xthey’re cheap, have only one type of plane, fly only domestic, and don’t feed you. You know how in the US cab drivers are stereotypically Punjabi Sikhs wearing turbans? In Delhi, it’s no different; they monopolize transportation. The security guard at the Metro was a Sikh, my cab driver was a Sikh, and the airplane pilot was a Sikh. This could be because they have always been drivers, since Hindus are often superstitious and refuse to begin journeys on certain days. After getting my bag and running out of the Kolkata Airport, I caught an expensive 370 Rs prepaid yellow taxi to Howrah Train Station. After the taxi, I had a grand total of 50 Rs ($1) on me. We drove through dark back alleys of the metropolis. I was nervous because there was only 40 minutes to reach the train before departure, and it’s an Express Train, which are rarely late. We crossed the famous and huge Howrah Bridge over the Hugli River, where you could see the enormous lit-up trainstation. It looked like Buckingham Palace or a huge Las Vegas Casino, the biggest train station I’ve seen so far. This is because Delhi has three large train stations and Mumbai’s are all in a line where people get on and off up and down the length of the Island. Kolkata, on the other hand, is India’s second-largest city, it’s compact, and serves as a gateway to the entire Northeast and East India. Specifically Howrah Train Station serves all traffic going West and South, which is 90% of traffic. It’s basically like saying one airport in NYC services all domestic traffic going south or west. This was exemplified by the fact that my train was on Platform #21. 21 platforms. I got out of the taxi and ran to my platform, through a sea of people sleeping on the ground, yelling, running, walking, and standing. It was pure pandemonium. I had to barge through mobs waiting for the floodgates [unreserved section of the train] to open. I got to the platform and the train arrived five minutes after I stood there, sweating because of the 80-degree sticky humid weather and the frantic run. I was relieved to sleep in my reserved seat, and although surprising, I wasn’t mugged this time.