A ride through a different world...

The sights, smells, and experiences of our cab ride from the airport to our guest house would be enough to fill a book. Kolkata late at night is a rather "two feet first" way to experience India for the first time. With windows rolled down, the driver tore his way out of the airport and onto a street that appeared to have neither traffic lights nor properly marked lanes. Jenna and I would come to gather that this was standard for all of Kolkata's roadways.

We sped past crumbling shanties and pits of garbage. Large trucks parked on the side of the road with their drivers sleeping underneath. Packs of wilds dogs roamed the side alleys and occasionally bounded into traffic. Groups of bare-chested teenage boys huddled in conspiratorial groups along grassy parts of the traffic median. Rickshaw-wallahs in nothing but dhotis (tightly-bound tunics) sprawled on their vehicles and waited for customers who would not come.

It is weird the sense of trust you develop in this situation. Who was Ahmed? Not much older than the kids Jenna and I had taught at Hogg Middle School less than four months ago. Yet, he was much more an adult in this strange world than either of us hoped to be on our first night. He glanced amusedly out the window every so often and directed the driver down certain streets and gave his advice on which turn should be made next. In his element, Ahmed was an oracle beyond compare. And the driver? As he incessantly honked his horn and screamed within inches of other cars and mopeds and rickshaws, he appeared the master of every millimeter of his space. He took the Ambassador to within whiskers of a passenger bus and nearly scraped sides with a shiny Lexus. The driver of such a luxury vehicle should get their vehicle scraped for attempting to drive these insane roads at such an hour I thought, as we passed. A tiny figure of Ganesh--the elephant-headed god of Hindu lore--sat on the dashboard. I threw out a few prayers to God and made sidelong glance at Ganesh too, as we sped through the streets.

We passed through a district that appeared to be busier than the others we had already driven through--open cafes and places that appeared to be bars. We saw a scantily clad woman who looked to be Asian, with a tube top and mini skirt. She was the first and only woman we saw on our drive. Ahmed glanced at the window and a faint smile played at his lips as we passed.

Finally, after twisting through a maze of side streets, Ahmed told the driver to stop. "We are here," he said. We got out and began to take out our bags. The only other people on the street were three men all wearing dhotis and all digging at what appeared to be dirt hole in the middle of the street. To note that this was about the 37th most confusing thing I had seen since leaving the airport tells you how in shock Jenna and I were. But...we were home.