Whitey and walking symbolism

In Calcutta we met three (or maybe more) of the mind-bogglingly generous locals who shower us with meals, tours, and overall friendship. The first sat next to us in a park, then treated us to dinner and drinks on him, but not before offering us monetary assistance when we told him where we were staying. The second met us as we walked toward the chaos of Kali temple to witness yet another version of God. He took us through the temple, dotted our heads a-la-India, popped us in and out of Taxis to show us the city, and finally stopped off at a photo studio so he could remember us forever. The third we asked for directions to buy train tickets, and he helped us with the process, bought us tea, and walked for maybe miles to find an internet cafe for us. He would have walked across town back to our hotels with us had we not stopped him.

In each case such seeming altruism occurs (not just these three, but all of them throughout this continent), the same questions inevitably arise. On a basic level, we know that they would not offer such generosity to locals, so the outpouring is based on our own foreigness. On an intuitive level, it is not based on foreigness as a general category, but on the very type of foreigness advertised by the color of our skin. It is based on the idea that the Westerners are more educated. That Westerners are more able. That Westerners hold the answers. The generosity we receive often seems based on the notion that the West is better. After all, strangers don't walk up to Korean tourists on the beach and ask for a picture with them.

Yet in this land where most have never even been to the West, the idea is based purely on local influences. Ideas of the West, not reality of the West. In fact, ideas of whiteness are independent of reality, just as on the other side of the globe ideas of the wisdom of the East are in many ways manufactured.

On the other hand, India retains the tradition of arranged marriages - even for educated businessmen and businesswomen- for instance. On that and other levels the clash between the old generation clinging to antiquity and the next grasping for individuality is very real.

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We caught the night train to Puri, where 20,000 people make their living from the temple of the "lord of the Universe," highlighting the economic benefits of so many Gods. Sick and weak yet again, we spend most of our first day sleeping.

Day 2 we realize just how large camels really are, for though neither of us remembers if we've seen them in zoos before or not, we are certain we haven't seen them towering over hoards of people on the beach. These stunning pompous creatures shot instantly to a spot among my preferred beasts. After our jaunt, we zipped to Konark for the dancing festival, which was set on a stage with the stunning 13th century Sun Temple as a backgound. The dancing, though, as our waiter today described "is interesting for a glance, but for three hours very, very boring." At least I got to ride back in the very, very cold night on our motorbike feeling like the underside of a camel's enormous foot due to lingering germs.

Today I ate cornflakes for the first time in 5 months and I think I self-actualized.