In Kolkata

I was in a Bengali restaurant for dinner, called Radhuni, recommended by Lonely Planet. No one was in there. I sat down and ordered and soon found out why. A rat ran out of the kitchen. Yes, I stayed and ate. Kolkata is in West Bengal. East Bengal is now Bangladesh. Before partition, it was just Bengal. Then Bangladesh was called East Pakistan. In 1971, Bangladesh gained independence from West Pakistan, which is now just called Pakistan.

The Sudder Street area, where the travelers hang out, is a terrible place. I was offered hashish maybe 7 times last night. Only in India does a dirty look means yes. Today, I saw a group of guys shooting up heroin on the street. I did see two white hippie women sitting with two beggar women there last night. I only look at the beggars and smile.

The sidewalks are very crowded. In India, after getting hit a few times, I toughened up and started knocking heads. I carefully avoid even brushing up against women, but if there's a man, and he won't get out of the way, I load up and hit him hard! In fact, I did that on the way over here. The guy let out an, "Oy, baba!" Hey, it was either that or get run over by a bus!

I was coming from the Victoria Memorial, which looks like a cheap Taj Mahal knockoff, but it was still nice. This might be the time to say this, but prices are different for Indians and foreigners. I'm not just talking about a few rupees for a Sprite or a high starting price when bargaining. The The Victoria Memorial costs 10 rupees for an Indian and 150 for a foreigner. The Taj Mahal is 20 for an Indian and 750 for a foreigner.

In Kolkata, there are a lot more women walking around on the street. The men, as unsubtle as possible, gaze at them. It's better than what the men do in other cities, gaze at me! At least for me, it' better. The clothes here, particularly western shirts, are very garish. I thought about buying a leather vest to put over a shiny florescent green shirt, but then I would just look like a gay Taliban. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not the look I'm going for. One more thing, I noticed on the metro as everyone was grabbing the metal bars above them, people's arms are so skinny. I'm a tiny man, but I'm like a King Kong on steroids compared to them having the arms of Darfur refugees... or an analogy less outrageous.