WHEN I FOUND out I was going to Kolkata, I was terrified. The rumors of being placed at gunpoint and of sex trafficking sent chills down my spine. I still agreed to go. At first we were going to go for my dad’s documentary on former sex trafficking victims who learned how to make jewelry. But, the day before we were supposed to leave, that job was canceled. So, my dad and I decided just to go on a vacation.
When we arrived in Kolkata at nine at night, we immediately felt the humid air. About a hundred people were lined up. They stared at us. Some of them possibly had never seen a white person before. We headed to our hotel in the car. I looked out the window and saw hundreds of people crammed in little huts on the streets. Little children with no shoes were rat picking, (they look for garbage to sell) and stray dogs with cuts down their backs stared at us while we zoomed by. I felt sick to my stomach. This was my first impression of Kolkata. But my first impression is not the impression I had by the end of the week. Kolkata might be a poverty stricken place, but the people there help each other out and they are thankful for what they have. They are probably the happiest people I have ever met.