I thought driving was on the left, but the chaos was so complete I wasn't certain until we reached central city, where we stayed at the second-best hotel, another British relic now owned by the Bengali government, which is communist. There were abundant signs asking us not to tip, and at check-out seven men showed up in the room to be rewarded. Of course the real tour was of the city, and that was astounding. It lives vividly for me now, reinforced greatly by Bill's description. There are endless wooden stalls, for example, most of them set up in front of . .
All structures appear to serve several purposes.
One butcher stall offered one half of a dog's head, divided from nose to neck. One could not help but think that if a stall owner sold everything he displayed during the day, there could hardly be enough profit to maintain life for a week. Cashing a traveler's check, even in Connaught Square in central New Dehli, was about all I needed to know about Indian bureaucracy. Stacks of ledgers were piled everywhere, and eventually my transaction was entered in one of them and rupees appeared. It is possible to be patient when you realize that the average Indian faces these frustrations every day, and that foreigners get treated better and faster.