One of the joys provided by the Cosmopolitan Club, both for residents
of the Club House and for visitors to the Club's regular events, is the
opportunity to get to know individuals from many places around the world,
and to thereby learn about other cultures. Last year I had an experience,
while staying in Calcutta during a trip to India, that reminded me very
much of this international camaraderie that one finds at the Cosmopolitan
Club.
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| Courtyard
of the Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture, Gol Park, Calcutta |
I had rented a room at the Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture in the Gol Park neighborhood of south Calcutta. Although the Institute is run by a religious order, it is predominantly a place for scholars and researchers to live while in Calcutta. My own reason for staying there was to observe the Durga Puja, a festival that lasts several days and honors the goddess Durga, who slew the buffalo demon Mahisha in one of the world's timeless stories of the fight between good and evil. This festival is lavishly celebrated in Calcutta, very much like Christmas in the U.S. During the Puja, neighborhoods erect temporary structures called pandals in which an image of the goddess is housed.
I expected to enjoy the sights and sounds of this festival, but I had
not expected the pleasure of meeting so many interesting people who were
staying at the Institute of Culture. Here, lodgers get an air-conditioned
room and three meals a day in the dining hall. And of course, it is around
food that one first meets new friends. (Attendees of Cosmo dinners and
coffee hours know this well!) At my first breakfast, I made a new friend,
Dave from England. He was staying in Calcutta for several months while
working on his doctoral thesis, which involved a study of the impact of
development on the wetlands just east of Calcutta.
Jim was from Scotland. He told us stories of his days as a labor organizer, fighting police. One afternoon, he and Dave and I decided we'd like a change of pace from the Institute food (which, though good, was highly repetitive, there being three rotated meals: rice and vegetables and fish, rice and vegetables and chicken, and rice and vegetables and vegetables). We wandered out along Rash Behari Road and found a corner restaurant. So there we were, having pizza and Cokes and ice cream at a table against the wall in a Calcutta pizzeria.
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| View of Gariahat Road, looking south from the roof of the Institute of Culture |
Also from England was Antony, a University professor who was studying the influence of the Vedanta philosophy on twentieth century British novelists. We had several interesting conversations about religion and literature. Antony had started his academic career as a student of French literature, but after an early visit to India, he became captivated. This was his eighth visit. Although he avowed that France was certainly the most civilized country in the world, he found India much more interesting. With Antony, I went one afternoon to see the immersion of the goddess in the river. At the end of the Durga Puja, the custom is to take the image of the goddess to the Ganges and immerse it in the river. The goddess thereby returns to the elements. The goddess's image is carried to the river in a pick-up truck, accompanied by dancers and musicians. Several men then carry the goddess from the truck to the riverbank, spin the image around several times, and dump it in the river. Watching this from the steps leading to the river, I shared the participants' emotions, a simultaneous mix of both joy and sorrow.
Back at the Institute, I also made the acquaintance of a couple of elderly American ladies. Susan was originally from Nebraska. She had retired and permanently moved to the Institute, dedicating herself to religious pursuits. I was pleased to learn that—it's a small world!—we had a common acquaintance in Chicago! Another lady from California was also dedicating her later years to spiritual pursuits and had been given the religious name of Satimoyi. She was bold enough to rent a flat in an apartment building in the Gol Park neighborhood. She came every day to the Institute for meals and prayer. There was Mr. Bhattacharya, a Bengali gentleman who had returned to his native Calcutta for the festival, from his current home in Delhi. He shared with us some of the religious poetry he had written.
So you see that, though this is an institute for research, many individuals
who come here have a religious bent. That was certainly true with Karen,
a young lady in her early twenties. She had come to Calcutta from San
Juan, Puerto Rico on a one-way air ticket, intending to join an ashram
of nuns near the city. Her dedication to this ideal was such that she
spoke of little else. Because of my meeting her, tuve la oportunidad para
practicar español en India!
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| Gate to the Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture |
There was also a young lady from Finland who was, in a few days, going
to be heading out to a village near Bishnupur, in rural West Bengal. She
was studying the expectations that rural Bengali women have of their future
in this time of changing roles and expectations for women. She conversed
fluently with the waiters in their native language, while the rest of
us spoke English or a stilted Bengali. The German man whose room was next
to mine, Bernhardt, spoke a competent English. He and I walked to the
nearby Dokhinapan handicrafts center. During our shopping trip, I learned
about his efforts to work with rural development groups throughout India.
But surely my most curious experience occurred one evening near the end
of Durga Puja. I was reading in my room, periodically looking out my window
overlooking Gariahat Road to watch an occasional procession of dancing
and singing devotees leading and following the truck with the goddess's
image. My friend Dave knocked on the door, taking a break from his evening's
work on his wetlands paper. So there we were talking pleasantly in a simple
room in Calcutta when we heard—I could hardly believe it!—the
wail of bagpipes from the street outside. We jumped to the window and
saw a bagpipe band, eight or ten unkilted pipers, playing Indian melodies
and leading a truck transporting the statue of Durga. Behind the truck
was a crowd of celebrating devotees. We watched for several minutes as
the procession passed. One finds the strangest things in the world!
And one thing which one also finds—and luckily, it's not so strange after all—is a spirit of friendship and sharing. One finds this, not in all places, but in many places. I have found this at the Cosmopolitan Club in Champaign, Illinois. And I found it at the Institute of Culture in Gol Park, Calcutta: another proof of our common humanity..
(Photos by Bernard Cesarone)