So, finally, here we are with my dad in Kolkata.

To start with, rewind two days to a train in Andal, a small town three hours railride away from Kolkata. The train is stopped.

Generally people are just sitting around talking or taking advantage of the quiet to get some sleep. Some have gotten off and walked around the town, to no particular purpose as all the shops are closed, owing to the 24-hour state-wide strike. This is also the reason the train has stopped, and by all accounts it won't be moving until about six that night. So, me and Ryan go to get some food at the railway canteen.

It's crowded and mostly people are eating quietly, only since these are Bengalis we're talking about "quietly" means "talking when you're not eating and eating when you're not talking". So we order two plates, hoping that whatever the man in the kitchen decides to put on them is good. It's the usual dry rice, watery dal and thick sabzi (vegetable curry) on tin trays. And then we order coffees, and two of the best espressoes we've had on this trip come out in little brown ceramic cups with subtle designs. It boggles the mind. I had to go back for more later. This is a railway canteen we're talking about. It's supposed to have metal mugs of dark brown water for five rupees each.

So anyways, we go back to the train and sit around for a while longer. We were talking with Sandeep in the next compartment, a guy with a high laugh and a genuine twinkly eye. He tells us that there's being a free meal served at the club. Woo. We figure, why not, and so me and Zaman march off with a band of men to see what's cooking. Out of the station, down tree-lined roads, and to a dirt field, fenced-off all around, with a volleyball net and some men standing over huge vats of sabzi and rice and dal cooked together, which is called kichuri. About a hundred more men are standing around in a sort of rectangle thing. So we figure, excellent, a free feed, I wonder why, oh well.

Little did we know.

No, really, we didn't know much at all.

Anyways, we sat down with Sandeep's father on these benches around the field and cups were handed out. Sandeep's father smiles and says "liquor tea!". What are we supposed to say? I say, "Liquor tea?". Sandeep's dad says, "Yes, liquor tea!".

It was just lemon tea.

So they start handing out banana-leaf plates and just before they get to us, a man comes along and talks to Sandeep's dad in Bengali, then asks us "You are from Canada?". Well, yes, I suppose we are. "Have you taken food?" No, we haven't. "Then come with me, please." Well, why not.

So we walk back across the field into this little hut with about a dozen Indians and a grinning South Korean guy sitting on this bench who greets us and says "Hello, you are like me, eh? Come from the train looking for food?". Well, actually, that pretty much catches it all.

So eventually a lost-looking Israeli guy in the same boat wanders in -Later he claimed they had been walking down the road and was shaghaied in-, and we're all sitting on benches in this dark hut, and hoping like hell that somebody's going to start handing out the food so we can get back to the train, and then a tall Bengali guy who looks like he owns the place lights up a cigarette and states: "YOU, Are Canadian. WE, Are Bengali."

Oo-er.

"YOU.. have a problem.."

Ooo-er.

"Then WE... will help you. Just tell your heart if you have problem, okay? We are very friendly people and we will help."

Ooo-kay.

He quizzes us on all the general stuff. What grade, do we like India, how come my name's Basu, etc. We're pretty much used to this so we breeze through and evidently pass. Next he starts on Hwan, the South Korean guy.

"From which country you are from?"

"Uh, South Korea"

"Ah, South Korea. WE are jealous of you. You know why?"

Hwan says, er.... no.

"Because INDIA! was number ONE!"

Oo-er.

"AT HOCKEY!"

Hwan says, Oh.

"And then South Korea took away that place. So we are jealous. Do you watch hockey?"
Hwan says, no, he doesn't get much ch-
"Ah, do you follow Asian Games?"
Hwan says, No, I can't read the Hindi newspaper-
"Ah, do you know who is number one in cricket?"
Hwan says, No, he doesn't like much cri-
"What? You are telling me, you are student and you don't know ANYTHING, about sports?
Hwan says, No, in South Korea he doesn't have a TV so he -

The tall Bengali guy waves a finger at him and says "You are living a mechanical life." Well, why not.

So, this enemy dispatched, he starts in on the representative from Israel, Chem. "You are from Israel? What do you know about Fidel Castro?"

Chem says, No, well, he smokes cigars, yes, but I don't kno-
"You're from Israel and you don't know anything about Fidel Castro??"
Chem says, No well, I know of him and uhm just the cigars he smokes, they don't really connect, Israel and Fidel Ca-
"Fidel Castro is a great HERO to us."

Zaman asks, why?

The Bengali guy who is now sitting down stares at his feet for a bit, letting his cigarette burn and thinking about this. Then he perks up. "Because he FOUGHT... for his freedom and the freedom of his people."

It's about this time we realise, holy cow, he's a Communist.

I don't know if I mentioned this before, but West Bengal and Kerala are the two states with a Communist government. You don't really notice much difference besides a touch of red around the place.

Then he goes on to completely lambast Chem about how "we" hate capitalism, the British and how economics follows politics and you cannot have politics without economics. At one point he says "You are friends with America. Isn't it?" He says "Isn't it?" every time he wants to mean "Right?"

"You are friends with America. Isn't it?"

Chem says, No, that's oversimplifying it, they give us four billion dollars a year and tell us who to elect. Personally, I'm not friends with America, but if you mean political relations-

"No, no, I am not asking personal friend, I am asking political relations. You are friends with America. Isn't it?"

Chem says, Well, alright.

And then he turns to us, I guess to educate us.

"If you know anything about history, anything, you know that the British occupied us for two hundred years, isn't it? And the British invaded everybody and now it is America's turn. Isn't it? So that is why we hate capitalism. We don't like America!"

Chem says, Ah, but you're mixing up capitalism and colonialism.

"NO! They are capitalists and colonialists and so that is why we are not friends with them, isn't it? India, is great friends, with ehhh, Russia, China... what's it, Vietnam, North Amer- no, South-America, South Kor- no wait, North-Korea, Pakistan," I really don't know what he was talking about with that last one. But no one argues with that. "Canada, is very close to America isn't it?" Well yeah they're right next doo- "They are friends" Politically. He goes on and talks about how "you have two arms and two legs, and I do too, why should you rule me? We are equal" .
There's a sign on the outside wall of this shack that says "Members Only".

When we try and bring up that you could say India is friends with America he just shakes his head and completely denies it. I don't think he know about the U.S. selling them nuclear technology or how many Pakistanis really don't like them. By now he's pretty much declared himself as king of the chain-smoking mafioso types who are about to fly off their handle. So Chem stops pushing him.

So it goes like this. After a while, thank god, Sandeep's dad comes back in and cuts him off in mid-monologue and conveys that it's time to eat. Woof.

We come back outside, and realise that everyone we were sitting with before has already eaten and left and this is the second batch. Oh well what can you do. We sit down on these blankets that have been folded and placed on the field, and the banana-leaf plates get handed out. I should explain the idea of the banana-leaf plates.

Indian Feature: Banana-Leaf Plates.

You take some banana leafs, which are wide and strong, and pin them together with toothpicks, thread or whatever, in the shape of a plate, and then let them dry in the sun. Then you pack as much messy food as you can onto it, eat it, and toss it out onto the compost pile for the cows to eat. It's refreshing after seeing pounds of styrofoam and plastic in the gutters of Kolkata.

--

So we're sitting there in lines with our banana-leaf plates. Talking with Huan and Chem. Waiting for this prophecised masala. Chem leaves. At first nobody tells us anything, and we just sit there boredly. After a while a guy comes along and says, five minutes. Then we sit there satisfied that we'll get it in twenty minutes. After thirty-five minutes they come along with pots of really soupy kichuri (rice and dahl mix) and ladle it into our plates, slap on some sabzi (curry) and salt on the side and leave us to figure it out. Most people tried it with their hands and burnt them. I saw somebody tearing off a piece of banana-leaf and using it as a spoon, so I tried that until it cooled. The heat and liquid seemed to be making the leaves curled up and I had this awful feeling that I was going to get to the bottom of the food and find out that I'd been eating off the ground, but it was fine.

We still had an audience sitting across from us. One guy was staring at us with alot of determination. I tried smiling at him, but he didn't blink an eye.

So it turns out the strike was called by an opposing party of the ruling communist party we think about some farmland that the corporation "TATA" had unfairly paid farmers for to build a car factory. And the communist party was just trying to smooth things out by feeding everyone for free.

Anyhoo our dad's here so we're just touring around and he's meeting the family.

Tata.

- Zaman & Bashu