Sayonara Subcontinent

Here's the thing about the time stamp on these posts I've been making - they appear to be set to Vancouver time. Currently it's really Wednesday, April 30th, 4:07 p.m. in the afternoon of Eufemia's last day on the subcontinent.

Soon I will travel across the International Date Line into the future! I love that Date line! I lost a day coming here, so it's only fitting that I will repeat May 1st. My first May 1st will be a hazy skyhigh movie-fest, and the second remains to be seen. I will get to see and be seen by some dearly missed loved ones, Jai! (Praise be!)

Last night I took the Radjani Express from Delhi to Kolkatta, an amazing 17 hours because we were practically flying at 140 km/hour. Normally, that train ride would be 20+ hours so it pays to take the Express. Everyone kept speaking to me in Hindi, and here's what I could understand: "You" and "You?" and "You!"

Kolkatta train station was much less intimidating the second time around. I decided instead of hanging around Kolkatta with my backpack, big and little and yoga mat in tow, I would simply come to the airport where I could pass the 12 hours till my flight by just hanging out reading my book. When I came into the airport a curt armed guard asked to see my ticket so I showed it to him and he said "Singapore Airlines? This is night flight - you early."

"Yes, very early," I replied. There you go, Papa! I win! My father will never read this online because he hasn't even gotten as tech-advanced as owning an answering machine, so I'll just have to tell him by phone that I now hold the Fantetti record for showing up early. No doubt he'll trump it with some story about getting to the dock early to catch the ship he sailed from Naples to Canada on in 1965 but still, for a day here (make that 2 days, technically) I'll get to think of myself as the champ.

I'm quite sure I really overpaid for my taxi ride but I did talk them down, and when the guy said to me "Not possible, 200 rupees not possible madam." I said "Of course it is. Subh kuch milega - everything is possible, sir." And he laughed and repeated "Subh kuch milega."

Then, here's the best part, Holly are you ready? (Oh, Holly, how wish you were here for this!) This guy's horn seemed to be broken, so when we nearly got crushed by an overloaded bus, (less than a foot to spare and my driver slams on the brakes) he yelled "Way-hey-hey!" And when he nearly ran over an older woman, he yelled out "Whoa-ho!" And the whole ride to the airport, which was alot of dodging, ducking, and several near misses - he just kept yelling over and over, and that's when I realised his horn was broken because everyone else was just honking, business as usual. Once again, I thought I could be in Italy, it's so bizarrely similar.

It felt so similar I wanted to start yelling too: "Way-hey! Does your father own this road?!" (According to one of the writer's I met Sunday night, an ex-pat American living with his family in India, that's one of the main things people yell out here when someone is driving poorly "Does your father own this road?" Also, I noted he was right, as a pedestrian you just put your hand up in a sort of "stop, in the name of love, before you break my neck-" gesture and the traffic slows down IN Kolkatta and you cross the street. It works in Delhi and Mumbai too.)

Please note: I didn't even flinch when he drove on the other side of the yellow line, pulled up against a bus and started yelling "Way! Way!" at the car in front of him, another yellow-line crosser, in the full attempt to speed up the crossing of the intersection quickly and get back on the right side of the road (meaning, the left side, the correct side I should say) before the oncoming 6 lanes of traffic on a four lane mini-highway made us another everyday casualty of big-city life.

Okay, so uhm. I guess I better go because I'm running low on rupees and this airport internet is highly overpriced...It's only another 6 and 1/2 hours till my flight. I wish I had something profound to say. I can't even explain all the emotions I'm feeling in my journal. This morning I wrote: Well here I am on the train and soon I'll be on a plane. That's Nobel Prize for literature material write there. Right there.

I'm thinking of all the different ways I know to say goodbye, (and how much I dislike that word) and all the different times and ways one has to say good-bye in their lifetimes, some are so painfull and just filled with an overwhelming sense of loss, and some are short-term, simple, soon, see you later alligator type of thing. Instead of goodbye then, I'll just leave it with phir milenge which maybe you remember means:

We'll meet again.

In a while, my crocodiles.