About those worst of times ...
Well, I knew it would happen ... I just didn't know when! That being the worst of times (or perhaps it won't turn out to be the worst afterall).
I needed to travel from Jaisalmer to Macleod Ganj, which is well into northern India. I had met with the Ganesh travel agent to figure out the best way (and timing) of traveling. Unfortunately, because of Jaisalmer's proximity to the Pakistan border, they have closed the airport ... so bus and train was my only choice. And with all that, I knew it would be a LONG travel day ... I just never could have dreamed of exactly how long!
First leg of the trip ... taking a bus from Jaisalmer to Bikaner. I arrive full of high hopes at the bus station, bus ticket in hand! I had a bit of a wait, so I join an Indian woman sitting on a cement platform sort of thing under a tree. Minutes go by, and all of a sudden I realize both the Indian woman and I are covered in ants. Our clothes (and my backpack) are moving! Where did these things come from? We jump around swatting at each others clothes ... and after much effort, most of them are gone.
Well that's not so bad, the bus arrives, we all board ... no worries! Nothing but a usual bus experience. We stop a couple of times at typical Indian bus stops, and without fanfare, we arrive in Bikaner.
The travel agent had been unable to get me a train ticket, but he assured me that I would have no problem getting on the train as long as I proceeded directly to the station for the 1:45 am train. Well, sort of! I arrived about 9 pm, got jostled around from counter to counter ... and was finally told to wait here until midnight when I could buy a ticket. Given that I was carrying my backpack, I was not too inclined to go exploring in the city, so I sat in the women's waiting room reading my book.
Midnight ... ticket buying time. One nice thing about India is that women can (and are expected to) jump into the front of any line to get waited on, so I elbow my way to the front to buy my ticket. I didn't see a seat number on the ticket, but they kept assuring me no problem ... and wouldn't do anything about it anyway. I had wanted to buy 1st class which is supposed to be relatively nice, but the train (and these are long trains) had only 2nd class sleeper accomodations.
I find the right track, and settle in to wait for the train. I'm a bit nervous at this point about eating and drinking because of the horror stories I've heard about train toilets! So, just a few sips of a Mirinda soda here and there ... that's it (and I'm starving)!
Finally the train arrives. I had talked to an Indian man who said he was heading in the same direction as me, so I follow him onto the train just to make sure I'm in the right place. And the sheer horror of it all hits me!
There are no lights on inside the train, because afterall it is a sleeper train and everyone is sleeping. There are bunks three high and right next to each other (only at most 3 feet in the aisles). There are cars after cars after cars of these sleeper accomodations. And I realize I really don't have a seat number.
Now let me put some perspective on what I was facing ... I had no seat number, I had no idea how the seats were numbered even if I had a number, everyone on the train is already sound asleep, it's pitch black with all the windows shuttered, there is not a foreigner to be seen anywhere, no one speaks any english, there is no train conductor to be found, and I am facing a 14 hour train ride to Pathankot. There is no room in the aisles to move so the only place on the floor I can find to sit is next to the toilet door (I will spare you the aromatic details on that one).
I am feeling at this point at about the lowest of the low ... what have I gotten myself into, how can I get out of it ... I am sitting on the floor next to an Indian toilet, my head in my hands, with my backpack and my daypack feeling very sorry for myself. It can't get much worse!
After about half an hour, I figure I've got to do something ... there's got to be one blasted seat in this entire train that is empty. So off I start. I walk from car to car to car ... and finally, I find a seat. I'm not sure what to do, but I lie back with my pack propped up against the wall.
Finally the conductors come walking through, snapping on overhead lights, awakening everyone to look at their tickets and seat numbers. They look at my ticket and start in with "this is not your seat number Madam". I'm sure I looked a wreck ... frantic, forlorn, desparate, you pick the words! Thankfully they took pity on me. I'm not sure all that happened, but after much to-do, they rousted some poor unhappy Indian and kicked him out of his seat and gave it to me. I knew I would have to pay more (another RS80 gladly), and I tried to give him a tip which he flatly refused.
I'm numb with shock and relief, but I curl up in my short little sleeper, backpack chained to the wall and sleep as best I can.
Daylight arrives ... and I look around at my accomodations! Luxury ... not exactly! I'm the middle two windows in the picture. But at least it's a seat!
And on it goes ... the miles, the train stops ... 14 hours is a really long time! At one point, I get off the train to stretch my legs and see some food that I can eat (other than some packaged biscuits and my little sips of Mirinda) ... and realize the train is starting to move. Aargh, that would be even worse! I sprint to the train, food long forgotten, and grab the train railing, jumping on (just like in the movies).
Finally the train station arrives (and I didn't miss it)! But it's still another 3 hours to Macleod Ganj. I was originally going to take the bus ... forget it! I make my way to the prepaid taxi stand and pay a whopping RS1,150 for a taxi.
Even better, I have a room when I arrive that's not too bad!
Not having really eaten in the last 24 hours, I settle in to a huge dinner and a pot of milk tea. And it's even yummy Tibetan food ... no curry! In the morning, I take a walk around, go to the internet cafe ... and realize this is a gorgeous village. Friendly people, spectacular views! I'm going to enjoy spending the next three weeks here.
Perhaps the past couple of days truly showed me the absolute worst ... but also the absolute best that India has to offer.
And with that, dear reader, I bid you a brief goodbye! Tomorrow, I will begin my 10 days at the Vipassana meditation center, studying the art of living ... and talking is forbidden. I'm a bit nervous about it all. How will it change me? How will I cope with the silence, my feelings? I know little about what will happen, except for one thing ... it will change me.
Namaste!
I needed to travel from Jaisalmer to Macleod Ganj, which is well into northern India. I had met with the Ganesh travel agent to figure out the best way (and timing) of traveling. Unfortunately, because of Jaisalmer's proximity to the Pakistan border, they have closed the airport ... so bus and train was my only choice. And with all that, I knew it would be a LONG travel day ... I just never could have dreamed of exactly how long!
First leg of the trip ... taking a bus from Jaisalmer to Bikaner. I arrive full of high hopes at the bus station, bus ticket in hand! I had a bit of a wait, so I join an Indian woman sitting on a cement platform sort of thing under a tree. Minutes go by, and all of a sudden I realize both the Indian woman and I are covered in ants. Our clothes (and my backpack) are moving! Where did these things come from? We jump around swatting at each others clothes ... and after much effort, most of them are gone.
Well that's not so bad, the bus arrives, we all board ... no worries! Nothing but a usual bus experience. We stop a couple of times at typical Indian bus stops, and without fanfare, we arrive in Bikaner.
The travel agent had been unable to get me a train ticket, but he assured me that I would have no problem getting on the train as long as I proceeded directly to the station for the 1:45 am train. Well, sort of! I arrived about 9 pm, got jostled around from counter to counter ... and was finally told to wait here until midnight when I could buy a ticket. Given that I was carrying my backpack, I was not too inclined to go exploring in the city, so I sat in the women's waiting room reading my book.
Midnight ... ticket buying time. One nice thing about India is that women can (and are expected to) jump into the front of any line to get waited on, so I elbow my way to the front to buy my ticket. I didn't see a seat number on the ticket, but they kept assuring me no problem ... and wouldn't do anything about it anyway. I had wanted to buy 1st class which is supposed to be relatively nice, but the train (and these are long trains) had only 2nd class sleeper accomodations.
I find the right track, and settle in to wait for the train. I'm a bit nervous at this point about eating and drinking because of the horror stories I've heard about train toilets! So, just a few sips of a Mirinda soda here and there ... that's it (and I'm starving)!
Finally the train arrives. I had talked to an Indian man who said he was heading in the same direction as me, so I follow him onto the train just to make sure I'm in the right place. And the sheer horror of it all hits me!
There are no lights on inside the train, because afterall it is a sleeper train and everyone is sleeping. There are bunks three high and right next to each other (only at most 3 feet in the aisles). There are cars after cars after cars of these sleeper accomodations. And I realize I really don't have a seat number.
Now let me put some perspective on what I was facing ... I had no seat number, I had no idea how the seats were numbered even if I had a number, everyone on the train is already sound asleep, it's pitch black with all the windows shuttered, there is not a foreigner to be seen anywhere, no one speaks any english, there is no train conductor to be found, and I am facing a 14 hour train ride to Pathankot. There is no room in the aisles to move so the only place on the floor I can find to sit is next to the toilet door (I will spare you the aromatic details on that one).
I am feeling at this point at about the lowest of the low ... what have I gotten myself into, how can I get out of it ... I am sitting on the floor next to an Indian toilet, my head in my hands, with my backpack and my daypack feeling very sorry for myself. It can't get much worse!
After about half an hour, I figure I've got to do something ... there's got to be one blasted seat in this entire train that is empty. So off I start. I walk from car to car to car ... and finally, I find a seat. I'm not sure what to do, but I lie back with my pack propped up against the wall.
Finally the conductors come walking through, snapping on overhead lights, awakening everyone to look at their tickets and seat numbers. They look at my ticket and start in with "this is not your seat number Madam". I'm sure I looked a wreck ... frantic, forlorn, desparate, you pick the words! Thankfully they took pity on me. I'm not sure all that happened, but after much to-do, they rousted some poor unhappy Indian and kicked him out of his seat and gave it to me. I knew I would have to pay more (another RS80 gladly), and I tried to give him a tip which he flatly refused.
I'm numb with shock and relief, but I curl up in my short little sleeper, backpack chained to the wall and sleep as best I can.
Daylight arrives ... and I look around at my accomodations! Luxury ... not exactly! I'm the middle two windows in the picture. But at least it's a seat!And on it goes ... the miles, the train stops ... 14 hours is a really long time! At one point, I get off the train to stretch my legs and see some food that I can eat (other than some packaged biscuits and my little sips of Mirinda) ... and realize the train is starting to move. Aargh, that would be even worse! I sprint to the train, food long forgotten, and grab the train railing, jumping on (just like in the movies).
Finally the train station arrives (and I didn't miss it)! But it's still another 3 hours to Macleod Ganj. I was originally going to take the bus ... forget it! I make my way to the prepaid taxi stand and pay a whopping RS1,150 for a taxi.
Even better, I have a room when I arrive that's not too bad!
Not having really eaten in the last 24 hours, I settle in to a huge dinner and a pot of milk tea. And it's even yummy Tibetan food ... no curry! In the morning, I take a walk around, go to the internet cafe ... and realize this is a gorgeous village. Friendly people, spectacular views! I'm going to enjoy spending the next three weeks here. Perhaps the past couple of days truly showed me the absolute worst ... but also the absolute best that India has to offer.
And with that, dear reader, I bid you a brief goodbye! Tomorrow, I will begin my 10 days at the Vipassana meditation center, studying the art of living ... and talking is forbidden. I'm a bit nervous about it all. How will it change me? How will I cope with the silence, my feelings? I know little about what will happen, except for one thing ... it will change me.
Namaste!
posted by CECILIA at 7:10 PM
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