Say hello to dinner!

There is a rhythm which exists within the street bazaars of India that drives much of life in India. When we set out for our journey from Kolkata to Katwa, it was 7 AM. The bazaars of the first couple of town we drove through were full of vegetables. Farmers were arranging their goods in their stalls. Fisherman arranged gleaming fresh fish with eyes that had not clouded over yet. As we passed through towns at 8 AM, the bazaars were bustling. The early bird always got the worm and shoppers poked and prodded at vegetables to make sure they were ripe while others haggled over prices. Everyone ran from one stall to another trying to fill their bags. By 9 AM, the crowds had thinned out. Yellowing spinach remained in one farmer’s basket since clearly no one had wanted it. The smallest eggplants were all that was left in another’s. By 10 AM, the bazaars were empty. Farmers were wrapping up their stalls and casually chatting over tea with neighbors. As we rolled into Katwa around 11 AM, the faint smell of vegetables being cooked floated through open windows. And at 12, lunch was served. There are no alarm clocks (except for chirping birds) or beepers or reminders telling people when to do what. There is just a simple rhythm; hop on or hop off.