Life on the Aunt Farm

Durbar means "unstoppable" in Bengali. The organization has proven the propriety of their namesake

Things in the City of Joy have been picking up rapidly in the last day or two. My two aunts who live in Kolkata--one maternal the other paternal--have been taking superb care of me.

I had my first meeting with Durbar staff yesterday evening. It was a pre-meeting, actually. My uncle accompanied me to make sure I would be able to chart out the route when I ride the Kolkata metro there by myself on Thursday. The office is located on a small lane off a major road in the old part of the city (read: where there are still Bengali people). Everyone in the 'hood knows of the Durbar office and the organization's work in the area. Debashish, the Durbar staff person I met, seemed happy to meet me, but he was swamped with end-of-the-month work. He was concerned that I wouldn't be able to speak the languge, but seemed relieved once I uttered the word "Bangladesh" to him. Unlike India, one is hard-pressed to get by on only English in the 'Desh. I think one year there is testament enough to my basic language abilities.



In other news, the Marxists have re-established their powerful influence in West Bengal politics. There was an election just before I came. Most of my family members bear ink-stained fingers as proof of having voted. India has a particularly strong federalist democracy, in which each state's govermental administration is as disparate as its ethnolinguistic grouping. The state of West Bengal has long-been a Marxist stronghold. There are major roads in Kol. named after Lenin and Ho Chi Minh. It seems bizarre to me though--capitalist penetration has made its way across the subcontinent to the commie shores of 'Golden Bengal.' Everywhere you go in Kolkata, there are ads for cell phones, vodka, or life insurance. Hardly the red spread. I remember when West Bengal wouldn't even allow The Coca-Cola corporation access to their markets back in 1993. My sister and I were forced to drink crappy "ThumsUp" cola during our visit that summer.

Anyway, I'm off to a homeopathic doctor's appointment. I'm hoping maybe traditional 'Eastern' medicines will help me to avoid whatever the hell was giving me those crazy infections last year that left me waddling like the March of the Penguins. Maybe on the way home, we can stop by Domino's Pizza (!?!) or one of the newly built IMAX theaters (!?).

Viva la revolucion,

TKP