Madrasa and Strike

This morning, we took a long busride into the outskirts of Kolkata to walk through a Muslim community and visit a couple of their schools. The first one, a residential school, had mostly young men who are orphans. Some seemed a little reserved at this "invasion" of American teachers, but most were quick to smile and nod when we would make eye contact. When I pulled out my photo album, I bet 25 crowded around to look at pictures of my family, school, students, etc. They spoke very little English, and I know very little Bengali, Hindi or Arabic, but the pictures, it seemed, created a way of communicating. I think that many of the Indians we see, particularly in the rural areas or smaller cities, don't really know what to expect from Americans. They look at us wth interest and maybe somewhat warily, but when we smile or greet them in their language, they almost always break into a large grin and return the greeting. The photo album, I hope, helps me seem more "real" - a person with a family, pets, a school, students, etc. It's a little disappointing (but maybe unavoidable) that we seem to create a spectacle wherever we go, whether it's on this huge bus going down tiny streets or as a mass of 16 white people walking from point A to point B. I think most of us seek out opportunities to pull to the side and try to communicate with people one-on-one. We also visited a government aided Muslim girls' school, where again, pictures seemed to be the ice-breaker. Having a picture of my grandmother is something that they all seem to relate to, what with family bonds being such a part of this culture.

Today, many of the public transportation vehicles are participating in a strike. About a year ago, they were told that vehicles over 15 years old would have to be off the roads by July 31. In protest, the streets today, for the most part, are empty of auto rickshaws, city busses, many cars and the yellow taxis that are normally buzzing around everywhere are parked along the roadsides. I feel bad for the inconvenience this is causing so many folks in the city (our USIEF host couldn't get to the hotel this morning); however, it is wonderful not having so much traffic, noise and the exhaust fumes that assault you when you step out the door. Besides the people at home, what I have missed most is definitely the absence of noise. I finally realized that I've never spent this much time in an urban area and it is next to impossible to find a place to just be in silence. Even at night in the hotel room, you can hear the beeping of the traffic. I don't think I've mentioned the horn thing much....where we might rarely beep to tell someone not to pull out in front of you or something like that, here you are supposed to beep when you are coming up behind someone to let them know you are coming and are moving into their lane, changing lanes, etc. On the back of most lorries (trucks), you will find the words "Horn Please" painted on the bumper or tailgate. In other words, people don't use rearview mirrors or signal lights; it is this constant communication between thousands of vehicles using their horns. Sometimes it takes experiencing another culture to make you realize that there are things in your own which you have quite taken for granted!