Patna - Slow boat to Kolkutta
Although the boat is a mere twenty-six or so feet long and barely eight feet wide, we were assured today that it would fit the fifteen people and gear that are travelling the 500 kilometers down the Ganges River to Calcutta. "We" were Julian and Martine Crandall-Hollick, the husband and wife radio journalism team, and Ravu, their trusty Indian translator, facilitator and main companion for over ten years. The man doing the convincing was a one Dr. R.K. Sinha, dubbed the "Dolphin Man of India," as his work over the last twenty years has focused on efforts to protect the dwindling population of this unique river-dwelling mammal (around 2000 in India acounted for in a 2002 survey).
We stood there in the mid-day sun on the muddy banks of the Ganga amidst piles of cast-off trash, faded garlands of marigold flowers, and hundreds of discarded miniature clay bowls used to float lamps down the holy river crunching under our feet. The boat looked small, but in its favor it also looked incredibly new, as if it was just built the week before. A simple affair, it was your classic boat shape, pointed at both ends, with maybe two feet of freeboard (the bit that sticks out above the water) and heavily tarred on the outside. The deck was built of removable boards to allow storage of material underneath the frame and in the center of the boat was a recessed area with a bench with backrest on either side, each that could seat four or five people (or 8-10 Indians). The fore and aft decks (if i may be so bold to assign such lofty names to the small space each represents) are above the level of this bench area and in the front are two sweeps or oars contructed from long bamboo poles and boards. In the rear is one sweep that sticks straight out the back, and in the brief fifteen minute "test ride" we took, the captain employed this sweep unsing an ingenious rotation that somehow propelled us forward. The front sweeps were engaged for extra pull at the end when we regained the shore, but otherwise were not used. We will apparantly use them to make distance when needed.
The plan is to leave at dawn tomorrow and begin the trip to Calcutta that will take us the rest of the month. We arrive around the 27th, so it appears my Christmas will be spent on the river, or along its shores, to be more accurate. We will not sleep on the boat (thank goodness!), but will instead make camp each night. For a few momments it seemed I might have been sleeping out, as I left my tent in Kathmandu for weight reasons, but space was found.
Christmas may be actually spent in a town called Chandannagar, if we hold to the schedule I am looking at in my journal, which is fantastic, really, as I always wanted to spend Christmas in Chandana-thingy-gum. No. Really. Always been on my list.
Along the route we will pass through the Gangetic dolphin sanctuary of Vikramshila that Dr. Sinha helped to create. I apologize for all these names of places and people that I throw at you, but I figure that you can toss them into Google and return lovely full-color maps and detailed web pages that I have thoughtlessly declined to provide for you. In a further act of unkindness, I do not think you will receive posts from me with much regularity for the rest of the month. I will return to my pen and paper journal (a wonderful thing provided to me by Bettina!) and recount it all to you when I arrive in Calcutta, with pictures of course.
One website I will provide, though - - Julian and Martine Crandall-Hollicks' company, the Independent Broadcasting Association (IBA) here and the pertinant page to this particular Ganges River project here. If you are dedicated to knowing more, check out the details of the river project outlined in the Project Description of their National Science Foundation (NSF) grant, which is found on the river project web page (PDF here if your clicky-finger is just too tired to tap the mouse a few extra times).
Other concerns on this trip besides mosquitos are the large numbers of dacoits (bandits) that roam the countryside of this state, Bihar, that we will be floating a lot of to get to Calcutta. Hopefully we won't have any issues. Dr. Sinha has apparantly dealt with them before - - by giving them all of his scientific equipment and cameras! Hopefully it will not become an issue, but if it is, I'll gladly hand over my dirty underwear and tatty half-read novels to whatever AK-toting bandit desires them.
Where I am, Patna, is another Indian city. There are a lot of Indian people here. There are cows. There are horns. The garbage people in Patna are on strike, so there is a larger-than usual amount of garbage spilling over and into the streets. Other than that, there is not much to report. The train ride from Agra was fine. Riding first class, non-airconditioned was not the sumptuous luxury experience the ticket class might lead you to believe. The one advantage is that you get a door on your compartment that you can lock, which is good, because after all the people with legitimate tickets show up you will want to lock it to prevent the rest of humanity from coming on in and sitting with you. The human race is a hopeful one, and Indians are no exception - - people constantly attempt to get in and will then disappear if the ticket collector is heard to be about. I'm all about taking advantage of situations, but after my fellow Indian compartment-passengers who shelled out their rupees for this class as well began locking the door and explained to me why, I saw the light and followed the practice.
Right now, raging by the door of this Internet cafe is a wedding procession. What is that exactly? Imagine the horn section of a high school band. A big one. Lots of horns. Oooo, and drums, too. Some bells, as well. Dress them up in the same goofy costumes high schools have. Let 'em play real loud. The same song, over and over again. Now, get some guys with lights, like a string of ten. What the hell - - make it two strings of ten. And not just any lights. Let's get some flashy things with rotating doo-dads, lots of different colors and let's mount those puppies in some gold encrusted, tinsel coated fixtures. Now, we need some people to party! How about a hundred or two! Put them in the middle and a string of lights on either side! Now, bring on the groom! He goes in a cart in the back, and we'll need some more lights for him, too, like a wall of lights. Rotating, flashing, mulicolored lights, of course, spread across a ten foot by ten foot surface. Strap that to a rickshaw, so it can follow the parade, because this is definately going to be a parade! A wonderful traffic-blocking parade. Hmm, we need some explosions, too! Send some guys in front of this slow-moving circus to constantly be lighting off Roman Candles, fire-fountains, rockets and flares. Don't forget the two-stroke, pollution-spewing generator mounted on a rickshaw somwhere in the front or back, as well, for it is needed to power the light show!
Let's see, that should about do it. Now, have about fifty of these every night in every city in India. I kid you not! This is wedding season, and every night the madness begins anew. Three weeks ago on a Sunday there were 14,000 weddings in one day in Delhi. You can hear explosions and horns well into the late hours of the night as you fall asleep.
Speaking of which, I think I will do the same. Get some supplies for the river (toilet paper, chocolate and biscuits!) and go pass out. Talk to you all somewhere down the river!
We stood there in the mid-day sun on the muddy banks of the Ganga amidst piles of cast-off trash, faded garlands of marigold flowers, and hundreds of discarded miniature clay bowls used to float lamps down the holy river crunching under our feet. The boat looked small, but in its favor it also looked incredibly new, as if it was just built the week before. A simple affair, it was your classic boat shape, pointed at both ends, with maybe two feet of freeboard (the bit that sticks out above the water) and heavily tarred on the outside. The deck was built of removable boards to allow storage of material underneath the frame and in the center of the boat was a recessed area with a bench with backrest on either side, each that could seat four or five people (or 8-10 Indians). The fore and aft decks (if i may be so bold to assign such lofty names to the small space each represents) are above the level of this bench area and in the front are two sweeps or oars contructed from long bamboo poles and boards. In the rear is one sweep that sticks straight out the back, and in the brief fifteen minute "test ride" we took, the captain employed this sweep unsing an ingenious rotation that somehow propelled us forward. The front sweeps were engaged for extra pull at the end when we regained the shore, but otherwise were not used. We will apparantly use them to make distance when needed.
The plan is to leave at dawn tomorrow and begin the trip to Calcutta that will take us the rest of the month. We arrive around the 27th, so it appears my Christmas will be spent on the river, or along its shores, to be more accurate. We will not sleep on the boat (thank goodness!), but will instead make camp each night. For a few momments it seemed I might have been sleeping out, as I left my tent in Kathmandu for weight reasons, but space was found.
Christmas may be actually spent in a town called Chandannagar, if we hold to the schedule I am looking at in my journal, which is fantastic, really, as I always wanted to spend Christmas in Chandana-thingy-gum. No. Really. Always been on my list.
Along the route we will pass through the Gangetic dolphin sanctuary of Vikramshila that Dr. Sinha helped to create. I apologize for all these names of places and people that I throw at you, but I figure that you can toss them into Google and return lovely full-color maps and detailed web pages that I have thoughtlessly declined to provide for you. In a further act of unkindness, I do not think you will receive posts from me with much regularity for the rest of the month. I will return to my pen and paper journal (a wonderful thing provided to me by Bettina!) and recount it all to you when I arrive in Calcutta, with pictures of course.
One website I will provide, though - - Julian and Martine Crandall-Hollicks' company, the Independent Broadcasting Association (IBA) here and the pertinant page to this particular Ganges River project here. If you are dedicated to knowing more, check out the details of the river project outlined in the Project Description of their National Science Foundation (NSF) grant, which is found on the river project web page (PDF here if your clicky-finger is just too tired to tap the mouse a few extra times).
Other concerns on this trip besides mosquitos are the large numbers of dacoits (bandits) that roam the countryside of this state, Bihar, that we will be floating a lot of to get to Calcutta. Hopefully we won't have any issues. Dr. Sinha has apparantly dealt with them before - - by giving them all of his scientific equipment and cameras! Hopefully it will not become an issue, but if it is, I'll gladly hand over my dirty underwear and tatty half-read novels to whatever AK-toting bandit desires them.
Where I am, Patna, is another Indian city. There are a lot of Indian people here. There are cows. There are horns. The garbage people in Patna are on strike, so there is a larger-than usual amount of garbage spilling over and into the streets. Other than that, there is not much to report. The train ride from Agra was fine. Riding first class, non-airconditioned was not the sumptuous luxury experience the ticket class might lead you to believe. The one advantage is that you get a door on your compartment that you can lock, which is good, because after all the people with legitimate tickets show up you will want to lock it to prevent the rest of humanity from coming on in and sitting with you. The human race is a hopeful one, and Indians are no exception - - people constantly attempt to get in and will then disappear if the ticket collector is heard to be about. I'm all about taking advantage of situations, but after my fellow Indian compartment-passengers who shelled out their rupees for this class as well began locking the door and explained to me why, I saw the light and followed the practice.
Right now, raging by the door of this Internet cafe is a wedding procession. What is that exactly? Imagine the horn section of a high school band. A big one. Lots of horns. Oooo, and drums, too. Some bells, as well. Dress them up in the same goofy costumes high schools have. Let 'em play real loud. The same song, over and over again. Now, get some guys with lights, like a string of ten. What the hell - - make it two strings of ten. And not just any lights. Let's get some flashy things with rotating doo-dads, lots of different colors and let's mount those puppies in some gold encrusted, tinsel coated fixtures. Now, we need some people to party! How about a hundred or two! Put them in the middle and a string of lights on either side! Now, bring on the groom! He goes in a cart in the back, and we'll need some more lights for him, too, like a wall of lights. Rotating, flashing, mulicolored lights, of course, spread across a ten foot by ten foot surface. Strap that to a rickshaw, so it can follow the parade, because this is definately going to be a parade! A wonderful traffic-blocking parade. Hmm, we need some explosions, too! Send some guys in front of this slow-moving circus to constantly be lighting off Roman Candles, fire-fountains, rockets and flares. Don't forget the two-stroke, pollution-spewing generator mounted on a rickshaw somwhere in the front or back, as well, for it is needed to power the light show!
Let's see, that should about do it. Now, have about fifty of these every night in every city in India. I kid you not! This is wedding season, and every night the madness begins anew. Three weeks ago on a Sunday there were 14,000 weddings in one day in Delhi. You can hear explosions and horns well into the late hours of the night as you fall asleep.
Speaking of which, I think I will do the same. Get some supplies for the river (toilet paper, chocolate and biscuits!) and go pass out. Talk to you all somewhere down the river!
posted by JAshby at 4:54 AM
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