Strangers on a train
Okay, so I sounded a little frustrated in my last entry. The day and night did take a turn for the better though. I went in search of the Jain temples in the east end of town and a little boy broke away from a group of singing women to hold my hand for part of the way. That made it all better. I'd never seen so many eyelashes fighting for a spot on someones eyelids when he looked up at me.
The Odissi dance performance was really good and on my way back to the hotel I had tea with a shopowner I had met earlier in the day. The sheer happiness on his face at seeing me again was heartwarming to say the least. He invited me to dinner the following day at his house with his family (wife, kids, and parents) but I had plans to head north already. Once I left his shop I noticed a group of people in the bazaar watching an old Hindi movie on a screen (really a big white sheet hanging from a tree).
The 'heading north' started at 7:30 am. On the way the bus busted a tire which was not replaced but the metal that scraped the rubber off was removed and we were on our way. The rickshaw I took to the train stop for onward travel hit a motorcycle and was t-boned by another rickshaw right in front of the station. Naturally I jumped out and let the driver clear things up with the other two drivers. The train only had general seats available. Here's what that means: Trains have 1st class, 2nd class, 3rd class, sleeper which consists of three bunks, and general class for the masses. General would be the class the poor take. A place where no one really checks tickets because it is so crowded, dirty and hot. A place where I was surrounded by nine men on a wooden bench for three hours. This is the stereotype one imagines when one things of trains in India. The connecting 30 hour train ticket I was issued in Allahabad to Darjeeling was also for general class. I got onto the 3rd AC sleeper instead and paid for an upgrade. Luckily, I ended up in the cart with an open bunk (apparently the only one on the entire train).
Almost as soon as I had sat down and made myself comfortable I noticed a guy sticking his head around the corner from the other seat. He came and sat down opposite me. His name is Sandeep. He owns a company in Jaipur (gave me his card). He's originally from Darjeeling and was also heading up there. He ordered me dinner and lunch. He loves Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He likes to 'freak out'. Best of all he invited me for a smoke outside the compartment. I followed him. It was midnight. He opened the door of the train. There I was hanging out of a moving train hurdeling towards the Himalayas, smoking cigarettes that made me cough, contemplating whether or not I had just seen a falling star. Life doesn't get much better than that.
The next day Sandeep ran out at a station to find some salted lassi for me. No luck. Then he told me of his ex-girlfriend. He lovingly called her a 'chinkie'. Apparently that is what Southeast Asian looking people are called in India. This seems to be the tour of the rice kings for me. The French dude in Cochin was also one and the most famous of them all lives in Toronto. ;)
People sell almost anything on trains. Socks, religious books, fake gold watches, emergency lights, chewing tabacco, cucumbers, tea, samosas and blessings. The latter would be provided by Eunochs. That's right. They exist around here and the superstition persists that their blessings really work. Sandeep was blessed by a rather beautiful looking man in a sari. If you don't give them money, which they demand by clapping and then holding out their hand, they harrass and taunt you. It can get out of hand and rather intimidating as they travel in groups.
The Odissi dance performance was really good and on my way back to the hotel I had tea with a shopowner I had met earlier in the day. The sheer happiness on his face at seeing me again was heartwarming to say the least. He invited me to dinner the following day at his house with his family (wife, kids, and parents) but I had plans to head north already. Once I left his shop I noticed a group of people in the bazaar watching an old Hindi movie on a screen (really a big white sheet hanging from a tree).
The 'heading north' started at 7:30 am. On the way the bus busted a tire which was not replaced but the metal that scraped the rubber off was removed and we were on our way. The rickshaw I took to the train stop for onward travel hit a motorcycle and was t-boned by another rickshaw right in front of the station. Naturally I jumped out and let the driver clear things up with the other two drivers. The train only had general seats available. Here's what that means: Trains have 1st class, 2nd class, 3rd class, sleeper which consists of three bunks, and general class for the masses. General would be the class the poor take. A place where no one really checks tickets because it is so crowded, dirty and hot. A place where I was surrounded by nine men on a wooden bench for three hours. This is the stereotype one imagines when one things of trains in India. The connecting 30 hour train ticket I was issued in Allahabad to Darjeeling was also for general class. I got onto the 3rd AC sleeper instead and paid for an upgrade. Luckily, I ended up in the cart with an open bunk (apparently the only one on the entire train).
Almost as soon as I had sat down and made myself comfortable I noticed a guy sticking his head around the corner from the other seat. He came and sat down opposite me. His name is Sandeep. He owns a company in Jaipur (gave me his card). He's originally from Darjeeling and was also heading up there. He ordered me dinner and lunch. He loves Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He likes to 'freak out'. Best of all he invited me for a smoke outside the compartment. I followed him. It was midnight. He opened the door of the train. There I was hanging out of a moving train hurdeling towards the Himalayas, smoking cigarettes that made me cough, contemplating whether or not I had just seen a falling star. Life doesn't get much better than that.
The next day Sandeep ran out at a station to find some salted lassi for me. No luck. Then he told me of his ex-girlfriend. He lovingly called her a 'chinkie'. Apparently that is what Southeast Asian looking people are called in India. This seems to be the tour of the rice kings for me. The French dude in Cochin was also one and the most famous of them all lives in Toronto. ;)
People sell almost anything on trains. Socks, religious books, fake gold watches, emergency lights, chewing tabacco, cucumbers, tea, samosas and blessings. The latter would be provided by Eunochs. That's right. They exist around here and the superstition persists that their blessings really work. Sandeep was blessed by a rather beautiful looking man in a sari. If you don't give them money, which they demand by clapping and then holding out their hand, they harrass and taunt you. It can get out of hand and rather intimidating as they travel in groups.
posted by LOTC at 7:01 AM
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