Friday was our final day in Rajasthan. It had been a very fun three weeks, but all good things must come to an end sooner or later, and I did also want to get back in time for the end of the semester at Tibet Charity. After one last morning of breakfast and chilling at the hotel, we made sure all of our belongings were segregated into the correct bags and headed into Jaipur.
I saw Brij off at the travel agency where his bus was parked, and then I made my way up the main road to the train station. I had made plans to head back to Dharamsala the way we had come, via a place called Pathankot. The train would take me there from Jaipur (over the course of some 13-odd hours), and then I'd catch a bus back to the mountains and my home base here in India. Altogether the trip was scheduled to take around 18 hours.
People treat me differently when I'm by myself. In the case of people who want money from me, i.e. rickshaw drivers and shopkeepers, they usually hike up the prices enormously and expect that I won't know any better. In the case of most other people, they actually tend to be quite nice. As I made my way down the train platform -- with a bit of attitude, because you gotta at least look confident at times like these -- I scanned the area trying to figure out where I needed to be to catch my ride. I stopped to consult my ticket and an Indian man in his fifties approached me and offered to help. Seeing as I didn't have a whole lot of wiggle room on the clock and the last thing I wanted at that point was to miss my train, I let him. As it turns out, he was going to the same train. We walked down, down, down to the signs stating the sleeper cars would stop there. He told me he was going to Alwar (which I had never heard of, but I'd become quite familiar with over the next day) and that I should stop off with him and stay at his place for a while. I'd like to think it's genuine hospitality that motivates people to make these sort of offers, as it's not the first time it's happened, but luckily I was able to politely decline by informing him that I really did need to get back to Dharamsala and just for good measure, I said that my husband was waiting for me so I couldn't afford any delays. That usually works. Regardless, he was very friendly and gave me his business card, saying that if I needed anything I should call him. There's no harm in having contact info, I suppose.
Every time we passed through a town, motorbikes waited in packs at all the railroad crossings. It was still early in the day when I boarded, about 5pm, so it was too early to sleep. I took a seat near the window in my berth and contemplated my surroundings. The car wasn't too full early on and I was by myself, so I was less self conscious about practicing my Hindi. I asked the people around me where they were going and got answers like "Jammu" and "Alwar." They asked if I was going to Agra and I responded "Nahin, mai Pathankot ja rahi hun." They all nodded and smiled politely, but nobody tried to keep a conversation going. I decided to study.
Every so often the guy who said he was going to Jammu would look up from his phone at me; when his dinner came he offered me some, but again I politely declined. Once an old Indian guy boarded and gestured for me to get up so he could set up his bed (the seat I was using) and Jammu guy told him to take it easy, motioning to me to just chill where I was and not worry about it. Time went on and the sunlight faded; we all got into our beds and arranged our belongings as comfortably as possible. I caught a few of the guys in my berth (there were 8 beds in it, mine was on the top on the one side) watching me and held eye contact long enough that they'd know I had noticed. I heard people say "Pathankot" in conversation from time to time and couldn't help but feel like they were discussing me. As a woman traveling alone in India, there's plenty to be cautious of.
I settled in and tried to sleep. My stop was scheduled for 6:05am, so I set my alarm for 5. In India, the cell phone companies send their customers messages whenever state lines are crossed; not long after I got the "Idea [the phone company] welcomes you to Delhi!" message, I noticed the ride got considerably louder and the car began shaking. It passed, though, and I decided to go back to minding my own business.
Some time later I realized that the train had suddenly become much, much louder and was packed with people. The man in the bunk next to mine told me that we had to get off the train; there was something wrong with one of the wheels and we were stopped, waiting for a new one.
What he said seemed consistent with what I'd observed earlier, and everyone seemed to be getting off the train anyway, so I decided to trust him. A young man of maybe 25, sitting on the bunk across the aisle, told me in pretty-good English that he had pulled the emergency brake and we were stopped in Delhi, and that he and his friends in the next berth were soldiers in the Indian army. He patiently explained to me that we had to get off the train while they either fixed it or a replacement was found. He offered for me to stick with them, which I gratefully accepted.
We hopped out of the train onto the tracks, them giving me a hand down, and walked down the platform until we were in an area that was better lit. Some time later, an announcement directed us to Platform 5; the army guys helped me carry my bag and made sure I was with them the whole way. They asked where I was from, if it was difficult not speaking much Hindi (toro toro, I told them, which means "a little bit"), and they told me it was their duty to make sure that I was safe. They asked my name; I have taken to telling people my name is Maggie because it's difficult for native Hindi speakers to pronounce Magda and the noodles with the same name are very popular here. It's quite funny.
When the new train finally arrived and the PA system instructed us to board, Sandeep (the young guy with the good English) instructed me to follow -- "chello, ma'am" -- and they got me situated in the new train car and bought me a cup of tea (vendors come through the train every hour or so selling the stuff. It's big in India).
Around 2am, some 4 or 5 hours after we had first stopped in Delhi, we were on our way again. I managed to sleep a tiny bit, but I was anxious about missing my stop even though everyone knew where I was going and I'd like to think someone would have woken me up when we got there. In India, there are no signs or notifications for where the train stops, you are just expected to know when yours comes up. Not being very familiar with the area (<<understatement), I was relying almost entirely on other people to make sure I got where I needed to go, especially now that we were so off schedule.
The sun came up and people folded the beds back into bench seats. Sandeep and the guys invited me to sit with them; when they busted out their breakfast of parantha and subji, they insisted I eat with them. The moment I was finished one of them handed me a bottle of water.
It was such a huge contrast to the way I'd been feeling a few days prior. Brij had given me a pep talk the other night where he told me that even for him, days were sometimes really good and sometimes really crappy. Blending in with the locals wasn't always a good thing; the way people treat you can change 180 degrees from one day to the next, he said, and you just have to try not to let the bad days get to you. I definitely experienced that. Whereas earlier in the week I felt like people were marginalizing me whether because of my race or my gender, on this train ride I felt an immense amount of love and respect from these people I didn't even know, like I had suddenly acquired half a dozen big brothers who were not about to let anything happen to me. As I thought about it, I realized that most if not all of the guys who had been paying extra attention to me earlier were also soldiers; rather than being creeped out by them staring at me I probably should have been grateful that they were staying alert.
When Sandeep asked what my opinion was of the Indian army I responded as honestly as I could without admitting too freely to my ignorance on the subject: all the soldiers I'd met had been very kind and helpful. He seemed happy with this answer. He told me that it had been a privilege to get to know me and to help me, and to speak English with me, and that he hoped we could keep in touch. We talked about all kinds of things and upon his assertion that "it doesn't matter what religion people are, we are all humans" I told him that was a very wise thing to say; he humbly accepted the compliment and I could tell he made a mental note of the new vocabulary word.
When my stop finally came up, 4 hours later than originally scheduled, they helped me off the train, carrying my luggage just as they'd done for many of the other passengers before me. "We want to come with you to the bus station to make sure you get there okay, but we have to get to Jammu," Sandeep told me. They were all on their way there to take exams so they could be social studies teachers upon retirement from the army. I thanked them for all their help, they took a bunch of photos with me, and we wished each other good luck.
From there I had to take a rickshaw to the bus stand and catch a ride to Dharamsala, which was still 4 hours away. The guy dropped me off on the side of the highway which I only allowed because there were other people there who confirmed they were waiting for the same bus I was. When it finally arrived (about 40 minutes later), I breathed a sigh of relief because the trip from there on out should be relatively straightforward. I eventually made it back into familiar territory, caught a local bus up to McLeod Ganj, and stopped in to Tibet Kitchen for some momo soup because by that time I had been traveling for a straight 24 hours and I was beat. Kalden was out hiking for the day but had graciously left his place unlocked so I could go take a shower and a nap before setting out to find a place to stay for the remainder of my time in India.
First thing this morning, that's what I did. I elected to splurge a bit and have a place with wi-fi and a restaurant, just a couple buildings down from my former residence of Pause Dwelling. Only 19 more days!
I saw Brij off at the travel agency where his bus was parked, and then I made my way up the main road to the train station. I had made plans to head back to Dharamsala the way we had come, via a place called Pathankot. The train would take me there from Jaipur (over the course of some 13-odd hours), and then I'd catch a bus back to the mountains and my home base here in India. Altogether the trip was scheduled to take around 18 hours.
People treat me differently when I'm by myself. In the case of people who want money from me, i.e. rickshaw drivers and shopkeepers, they usually hike up the prices enormously and expect that I won't know any better. In the case of most other people, they actually tend to be quite nice. As I made my way down the train platform -- with a bit of attitude, because you gotta at least look confident at times like these -- I scanned the area trying to figure out where I needed to be to catch my ride. I stopped to consult my ticket and an Indian man in his fifties approached me and offered to help. Seeing as I didn't have a whole lot of wiggle room on the clock and the last thing I wanted at that point was to miss my train, I let him. As it turns out, he was going to the same train. We walked down, down, down to the signs stating the sleeper cars would stop there. He told me he was going to Alwar (which I had never heard of, but I'd become quite familiar with over the next day) and that I should stop off with him and stay at his place for a while. I'd like to think it's genuine hospitality that motivates people to make these sort of offers, as it's not the first time it's happened, but luckily I was able to politely decline by informing him that I really did need to get back to Dharamsala and just for good measure, I said that my husband was waiting for me so I couldn't afford any delays. That usually works. Regardless, he was very friendly and gave me his business card, saying that if I needed anything I should call him. There's no harm in having contact info, I suppose.
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| Bye bye, Jaipur! It's been fun! |
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| Train toilet empties directly onto the tracks. There are signs posted asking passengers to "kindly not use the toilet when the train is at a station." Note the handle on the wall so you can keep your balance. |
Every time we passed through a town, motorbikes waited in packs at all the railroad crossings. It was still early in the day when I boarded, about 5pm, so it was too early to sleep. I took a seat near the window in my berth and contemplated my surroundings. The car wasn't too full early on and I was by myself, so I was less self conscious about practicing my Hindi. I asked the people around me where they were going and got answers like "Jammu" and "Alwar." They asked if I was going to Agra and I responded "Nahin, mai Pathankot ja rahi hun." They all nodded and smiled politely, but nobody tried to keep a conversation going. I decided to study.
Every so often the guy who said he was going to Jammu would look up from his phone at me; when his dinner came he offered me some, but again I politely declined. Once an old Indian guy boarded and gestured for me to get up so he could set up his bed (the seat I was using) and Jammu guy told him to take it easy, motioning to me to just chill where I was and not worry about it. Time went on and the sunlight faded; we all got into our beds and arranged our belongings as comfortably as possible. I caught a few of the guys in my berth (there were 8 beds in it, mine was on the top on the one side) watching me and held eye contact long enough that they'd know I had noticed. I heard people say "Pathankot" in conversation from time to time and couldn't help but feel like they were discussing me. As a woman traveling alone in India, there's plenty to be cautious of.
I settled in and tried to sleep. My stop was scheduled for 6:05am, so I set my alarm for 5. In India, the cell phone companies send their customers messages whenever state lines are crossed; not long after I got the "Idea [the phone company] welcomes you to Delhi!" message, I noticed the ride got considerably louder and the car began shaking. It passed, though, and I decided to go back to minding my own business.
Some time later I realized that the train had suddenly become much, much louder and was packed with people. The man in the bunk next to mine told me that we had to get off the train; there was something wrong with one of the wheels and we were stopped, waiting for a new one.
What he said seemed consistent with what I'd observed earlier, and everyone seemed to be getting off the train anyway, so I decided to trust him. A young man of maybe 25, sitting on the bunk across the aisle, told me in pretty-good English that he had pulled the emergency brake and we were stopped in Delhi, and that he and his friends in the next berth were soldiers in the Indian army. He patiently explained to me that we had to get off the train while they either fixed it or a replacement was found. He offered for me to stick with them, which I gratefully accepted.
 |
| Delhi's chilly in the middle of the night. |
We hopped out of the train onto the tracks, them giving me a hand down, and walked down the platform until we were in an area that was better lit. Some time later, an announcement directed us to Platform 5; the army guys helped me carry my bag and made sure I was with them the whole way. They asked where I was from, if it was difficult not speaking much Hindi (toro toro, I told them, which means "a little bit"), and they told me it was their duty to make sure that I was safe. They asked my name; I have taken to telling people my name is Maggie because it's difficult for native Hindi speakers to pronounce Magda and the noodles with the same name are very popular here. It's quite funny.
When the new train finally arrived and the PA system instructed us to board, Sandeep (the young guy with the good English) instructed me to follow -- "chello, ma'am" -- and they got me situated in the new train car and bought me a cup of tea (vendors come through the train every hour or so selling the stuff. It's big in India).
Around 2am, some 4 or 5 hours after we had first stopped in Delhi, we were on our way again. I managed to sleep a tiny bit, but I was anxious about missing my stop even though everyone knew where I was going and I'd like to think someone would have woken me up when we got there. In India, there are no signs or notifications for where the train stops, you are just expected to know when yours comes up. Not being very familiar with the area (<<understatement), I was relying almost entirely on other people to make sure I got where I needed to go, especially now that we were so off schedule.
The sun came up and people folded the beds back into bench seats. Sandeep and the guys invited me to sit with them; when they busted out their breakfast of parantha and subji, they insisted I eat with them. The moment I was finished one of them handed me a bottle of water.
It was such a huge contrast to the way I'd been feeling a few days prior. Brij had given me a pep talk the other night where he told me that even for him, days were sometimes really good and sometimes really crappy. Blending in with the locals wasn't always a good thing; the way people treat you can change 180 degrees from one day to the next, he said, and you just have to try not to let the bad days get to you. I definitely experienced that. Whereas earlier in the week I felt like people were marginalizing me whether because of my race or my gender, on this train ride I felt an immense amount of love and respect from these people I didn't even know, like I had suddenly acquired half a dozen big brothers who were not about to let anything happen to me. As I thought about it, I realized that most if not all of the guys who had been paying extra attention to me earlier were also soldiers; rather than being creeped out by them staring at me I probably should have been grateful that they were staying alert.
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| My Indian army guardian angels. <3 |
When my stop finally came up, 4 hours later than originally scheduled, they helped me off the train, carrying my luggage just as they'd done for many of the other passengers before me. "We want to come with you to the bus station to make sure you get there okay, but we have to get to Jammu," Sandeep told me. They were all on their way there to take exams so they could be social studies teachers upon retirement from the army. I thanked them for all their help, they took a bunch of photos with me, and we wished each other good luck.
From there I had to take a rickshaw to the bus stand and catch a ride to Dharamsala, which was still 4 hours away. The guy dropped me off on the side of the highway which I only allowed because there were other people there who confirmed they were waiting for the same bus I was. When it finally arrived (about 40 minutes later), I breathed a sigh of relief because the trip from there on out should be relatively straightforward. I eventually made it back into familiar territory, caught a local bus up to McLeod Ganj, and stopped in to Tibet Kitchen for some momo soup because by that time I had been traveling for a straight 24 hours and I was beat. Kalden was out hiking for the day but had graciously left his place unlocked so I could go take a shower and a nap before setting out to find a place to stay for the remainder of my time in India.
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| Mmm, momos! |
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