North from Kolkata (November 1-7, 2008)

I take the bus, about a 10 hour ride, from Dhaka to Kolkata on November 1. I decide to rest for a few days in Kolkata and take advantage of the cheap accommodation, food and cheap, reliable Internet. Kolkata is probably the cheapest city I visit in India.

I again stay at Hotel Maria and I am elated to run into Christiaan and Magda and catch up. Raphaella has already moved on to Delhi to meet her boyfriend. It turns out Magda got an amoeba and had to wait in Dhaka for her test results and to get antibiotics. Luckily, she doesn't feel sick. Unfortunately, she was unable to get access into the ship breaking yards. Christiaan is taking a break in Kolkata before he purchases a bike and starts riding south to Sri Lanka.

In Kolkata I meet a French traveler, Pierrique. His English is only slightly better than my high school French, and so I try to revive my French for the next few days. As we are both heading North, we plan to take the train together.

After he has seen Kolkata, we take a day train from Kolkata to New Jalpaiguri on November 5. I have the lower side bunk, which is closest to the busy aisle. This train is the busiest train I have been on--the aisle is just like an Indian street, with sellers and beggars coming through all day. I hope I never forget the way the sellers yell out their product, repeating it as they walk down the aisle, so that the words blend ("samosa-samosas-samosas-amosas"). Their voices were projected from the depths of their chest, producing a solid advertisement that could be sustained all day, not unlike the projection of stage actors. The train is their theatre. And I a tired audience member, just wanting to sleep, but interrupted by the performance so close to my face and body. The chai wallahs' vocal projection is especially impressive. Something about the word "chai" seems to work better than "puri" or "samosa" or "veg biryani," though the projection of these words was also applaudable.

We arrive at the train station in New Jaipalguri and two of Pierrique's friends are waiting for us. We take a short auto-rickshaw ride to Siliguri where they already have reserved hotel rooms. We wander around town in the evening, and it seems there is nothing special here for travelers, except for the fact that it is the end of the train line and the starting point for traveling to Darjeeling and Sikkim, both of which we are heading to.

I feel I am getting sick and it worsens the next day. I am convinced I have strep throat and decide I will go to the doctor, telling Pierrique and his friends to go ahead without me so I can rest if need be. My doctor's visit costs around US$5.00 and the antibiotics he recommends are under US$5.00. For the first two or three minutes, he asked me to describe my symptoms. Then he asked me about Obama. "Did you vote for Obama? Why not McCain? Why did you vote for him? Do you really think he'll bring about change?" This conversation ensued for about 10 minutes. I thought maybe he was seeing if any of my symptoms changed, or revealed themselves. But really he was just interested in what was happening on the other side of the world. He was a good doctor, and not afraid to tell me this when I asked too many questions, making him think I was doubting his ability. But really I was just doing the same research I would have done with a US doctor.

I go to the Sikkim tourism office and get my free, 15-day permit to enter Sikkim. Permits are required because Sikkim borders Tibet and both India and China need to regulate illegal border-crossing.

I decide to stay one more night to recover from my fever and feel a bit better before heading to Gangtok, Sikkim, where it will be somewhat cooler.