In your hurt, you heal others.

When you're in need you give.
Because of you, I am living.
The most that I can live.

Remember me, don't forget me.
I have something true.
My path is dark, my steps uncertain.
Unless I walk with you.

-Ben Kweller


Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen to everyone in the country that knows how to scare the crap out of little children! I had another one of those, "Oh My GOOOOD! Best Day Ever!!!!!"'s yesterday.
In a country that knows how to throw a celebration, (I.E. Diwali constant puja's and everything else that the 'poorest of the poor' are constantly celebrating) we figured we'd have no problem finding a suitable, atleast mediocre, Halloween Party, the first real American holiday to pass since we've been in India. Who would have known how wrong we were? We stumbled upon/ were invited to the most amazing Halloween Party that Kolkata has ever seen, probably not that hard of a statistic to prove but I'll save that for another time.
One of the people that I have grown very close to since being in India is my fellow volunteer Ashley. Ashley's been here a little bit longer than the girls and I have and works at Kalighat with me in the mornings. Every day me and Ashley are on the roof of Nirmal Hriday laying out soaked pairs of green cotton pants, mismatched dresses, faded red shirts, and an assortment of blankets, towels, and rags (all made from fabric made at Titigahr, Momma T's home for the lepers of Kolkata). Ashley is here as part of a service learning program at school where she does service work in the morning and Bengali language classes in the afternoon. About the second or third day of October I was approached by Ashley and asked if I would come to a Halloween Party if she were to set one up with her host family. I said I would be much obliged and would then proceed to invite every volunteer that I could get my grubby little party hands on. Now keep in mind this was about a week and a half after we arrived in Kolkata and Halloween seemed like ages away, still the prospect of something truly American like Halloween was more than appealing.
The days past and ideas for venues came and went until earlier this week when Ashley announced that she had found the perfect venue for our shindig at a family friend of her host family. She went to check out their house and said that the roof would be perfect and that they had a pretty big house so we could crash over in case the buses and metros were closed by the time the party was dying down, which they were.
Finally like a brush of cool autumn air (Which I miss eternally) All Hollow's eve was upon us and it started better than most days because when I got to breakfast at Mother house there was a nice little box waiting for me with United States Postal Service stickers pasted all over. I've been patiently waiting in anticipation for this box of goodies since my mom told me she sent it way back in September. Filled with candy, chips, CANDY CORN (to the amazement of our French Amis they do not contain any corn besides of course high fructose corn syrup), and the new Dan Brown book that my mom had recently told me had come out (Sorry mom, but I already read it a few weeks ago and probably paid a lot less for it, but it shows that you know me so well!).
We ventured off to the party at about 8 o'clock and when we got there we really couldn't believe what we were seeing. We walked in the front gate, gaurded by an elderly security gaurd who didn't seem to be as surprised at our outfits as everyone on the subway had (I mean, what on earth are a bunch of white kids doing dressed up as a cat, an indian man, a soccer ball, and an array of brightly colored 10 cent masks?). We made our way up the wide marble staircase that greeted us in the entry of the house and were all convinced that no amount of decoration could have made this giant labyrinth of a house any creepier. Sure that we had walked into the wrong house we finally found a trail of orange and black streamers leading us up a second, even more frightening staircase where we finally found our way to the roof.
The roof was three times the size of the roof of our hotel, where we are used to having these sorts of get-togethers and decorated with at least three dozen hand-painted skeletons, pumpkins, and numerous other Halloween themed paraphernalia that had been meticulously painted by an artist hired by our party hosts all day and during the evening to paint on Halloween themed temporary tattoos. The regular party shindigs applied with the exception of the generosity of this family constantly bringing Mishtis (Bengali sweets that are world famous and sweeter than sugar) and refreshments around via the hired help for the night. What a strange way to usher in one of our favorite holidays! Being waited on hand and foot for an evening in Kolkata! I do have to say that the contrast between doing laundry on the roof of Kalighat that morning and being served sweets on the roof of a mansion the very same evening was quite stark to say the least, but we made the most of it because who knows when something like this will happen again? Oh yeah I do know, NEVER! We let the party dwindle into the wee hours of the morning, again strange in a city where a late night for me is 10:30, and were told that if we found an open bed in the house to take it, and let me say there was no shortage of open beds in the house every door that was opened seemed to lead to another hallway stretching in an opposite direction.
I decided to take this morning off of work to do something that I've been wanting to do for the past couple of weeks, walk from where we were (very close to Kalighat) back to where we stay on Sudder St., mostly to get a different perspective than the one of the back of the bus driver's head that I am so used to by now. I don't really know how far the walk was in km (and definitely not in miles!) but it took be about two hours of walking at a brisk pace. I got to see the city of joy in a new light. Removed from the tourist section of town, and the rickshaw wallah's, hash dealers, taxi drivers, and vendors selling every useless thing under the sun, it was a beautiful walk. I heard constant, "Good Mornings", "Hellos", and salutations of all sorts. I stopped briefly and talked to every cheery shopkeeper, chai slinger, and child of the street that would have a short conversation and it opened my eyes even wider than they have been. I was amazed that this city could still throw me some wicked curveballs in the form of some of the friendliest people I had ever met. All pleased with giving this passerby a simple head-nod or whisper of "Namaste" instead of trying to take my soul out via my cotton wallet, which was empty at this point anyways. Leading me to another interesting tid-bit about my morning, forgetting to buy a bottle of mineral water before leaving on a two-hour walk was one of the dumbest brainfarts that I've had recently.
Deciding between Dehydration and an afternoon spent getting rid of traveller's diarrhea is one of the toughest decisions that I've made since being in Kolkata. I made my way to the line for the handpump well and pumped while two women dressed in colorful sari's filled water bottles for their journey. When it came my turn a little boy without shoes or a shirt ran over and started pumping with all his might while I splashed water on my face and cupped my hands for my first sip of water from the Hooghly. Refreshing, but doubtful that it carries the mystic and holy powers that the people of this city believe it has, mostly because I've spent the rest of my afternoon alternating between laying in bed and making trips to the bathroom. Oh well, I have nothing that could possibly cause me to complain at this current moment, because frankly, I'm living the good life. I have friends and a family (consisting of roughly 250 sisters and one father) in this 'wretched' city and am making more and more everyday.


I'm sorry for the novel that I just posted but I hope that if you've made it all the way through it that you have at least let a smile slide across your lips.

I love you all.