Claire: Trains

The most reliable and affordable mode of transportation for long distances in India is by train. Sure you could fly, but it would cost at least 10 times the price and Kingfisher airlines has been cancelling many flights recently. By bus you might pay a bit less than the train ticket (but not always) and you’ll spend at least twice as much time in transit with an unspecific time of departure and time of arrival.

Buying the train tickets is an experience in itself. Let me tell ya… My first visit to the train station booking office was interesting. There are a few websites that tell you the different train schedules. I arrived partially prepared with the train number and times of arrival and departure I wanted. As I walked through the door chaos surrounded me. There were around 8 teller windows, but only three were open. The lines were about 15 people deep. But wait, did I say lines? My bad. Definitely not lines. More like blobs of rustling people. ‘Q’-ing as my British roommate Natalie would say, isn’t their style. I noticed everyone had a white form with their train details. I found one and started filling it out. When it was finally my turn I elbowed off the crowding Indian men trying to budge and I passed my form through the window slot. The lady started speaking at me in a Hindi-English hybrid. Oh no. After much confusion she somehow communicated that we needed a passport photocopy. Huh? We didn’t need one when Jessica booked tickets last weekend. Freaking out, with only 10 mins until we needed to leave for work that morning, Dani, Natalie, and I scrambled around, asking for a copy machine. There were none in the station so we ventured out and a little man led us across the street. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop… with a photocopy machine! 1 rupee (2 cents) for a copy. We wandered back over and pushed our way in front of the window. Luckily the lady saw us and issued our tickets without waiting in line all over again. We got to work late that day, but at least we had our tickets. Every train ticket says “Happy Journey”—it’s the most adorable thing in the world. I now truly appreciate the efficiency and straight-forwardness of the western world.

I’ve taken trains just about every weekend. I’ve learned there are two train stations near our house we can buy tickets from. One is farther away and has a foreigner’s line. We went there the first few times, but now I would rather go to the closer station. It cost less to get there in a tuk-tuk and I don’t mind having a teller who’s English isn’t great.

There is usually the option to chose between different seating classes on the train. I’ve done sitting class, sleeping class, 2A, and 3A. Sitting class is simply rows of metal, un-cleaned benches that fit three people each. We take this for shorter train rides (1-5 hours) but we did do it for 7 hours once. Sleeper class has stacks of beds that fold down. Six per section, three stacked high. Sleeper is the cheapest way to travel. They are crammed full of people, the beds and floors are dirty. It’s usually loud and hot. We took sleeper class for most of our trips because it’s so inexpensive, and you can sleep. We took these for 5-12 hour train rides. I’ve taken 3A twice for 17 hour train rides, and 2A for an 18 hour one. Both of these are pricier, have air conditioning, padded, clean beds with bedding provided, and sometimes meals. 2A means the beds are stacked only two high, so you have headroom to sit up. 3A is three-stacked high.

The bathrooms on the train are gross. They’re on the ends of each cart and are the squatter toilets where the hole goes directly onto the tracks below. The clanking metal makes hovering over them scary, like a metal shard is going to shoot up from the tracks and take me out. No toilet paper. No hand soap or towels at the sink. But that’s typical of public restrooms anywhere here. I always keep a wad of tp and hand sanitizer in my purse. It’s tricky enough to use the squatter toilet on stationary ground, so adding in a moving train with pee infested floors turns bathroom use into a nightmare.  For this reason I do my best to avoid the train bathrooms.

I’ve had two memorable train experiences. The first was my trip back from Amritsar with Dani. Our train ride to Amritsar was in lovely 2A—fancy comfortable class. It was about 18 hours, but we slept very well and it felt like nothing. Unfortunately, we booked sleeper class for the way back. After a taste of luxurious travel on our first journey, we hatched a plan to sneak into the fancy class for the way back. It started out well–we found empty seats and befriended a lovely couple who taught us how to play the card game rumy. We were hoping the ticket guy would leave us alone since we were busy in a card game. He didn’t. We were busted and he made us go to our seats in sleeper class for the remaining 14 hours. Our train cart was 6 away, so we knew we’d have to walk through each one to get to our assigned spots.

We waited for the next train-stop so we could walk between carts with ease.  This is when the craziness began. As we began to enter the next cart a massive crowd surrounded the entry door waiting to pounce. The only way I can think to describe the next 10 minutes was a scene from a zombie apocalypse. The crowd flew into the cart, so Dani and I started to sprint, but then we saw them coming in from the other end of the cart. TRAPPED. Dani and I were pounded into the side of the isle as pushy moms and their children, and dad’s with luggage came through screaming, pushing, charging, throwing, crying…it was shocking to say the least. I felt like I was in the thrashing crowd of a 3OH!3 concert. I couldn’t figure out why the ravenousness was necessary since everyone had an assigned seat. I learned later that they give out general admission tickets without designated seating. If you get a seat, then you get a seat. If not then you can be on the train but you have to stand. After Dani took a punch from a grizzly mom in a baby blue sari, and after a nice boy helped us escape the madness, we carried on through the carts to our seats. A train officer saw us and led us through the isles since they were now overflowing with people. His massive (and unnecessary) gun was twisting and turning and bouncing around. At one point it was twisted around a pole pointing straight at me. Terrible muzzle control. Not ok. Six carts later and we found our assigned, paid for seats-covered with people. We told them they were ours and they scooted over a bit. We spent the first few hours sitting there-packed like sardines. When bedtime came around we unfolded the benches into beds so we could sleep. There were people filling the isle, and one man was lying over the end of my bed. I accepted it at first, but then he tried using my blanket and sleeping on my feet. Not happening. I nudged him until he got the hint. That ride I slept with one eye open.

The second crazy train experience was my return trip from Mumbai. Dani and I were weight-listed for a spot on the train. We were assured that on the day of the journey we could check the seating list and we’d be cleared for an assigned seat. If only it were that easy. We spent the first 6 hours of the 18 hr train ride as nomads. We would find open spaces or benches and reside there until their owner boarded the train. At one point we were stuck standing next to the smelly, nasty communal bathrooms, holding our bags and hanging out with the train crew. The thought of spending the entire 18 hrs this way was horrible.  We considered sleeping in the cabinet where the extra blankets and pillows for the upper classes are stored. The crew was okay with it, so Dani crawled in to check it out. It was the size of a doublewide coffin. The cons: it was dark, tight, closed off, and if we were to stay in there we’d be trapped in until the end of the train ride. The pros: we would be able to lay down and set down our bags. We were tempted, but opted out at the thought of claustrophobia-induced-panic. Soon after, we discovered the train’s black market for seat assignments. A train crew guy who we befriended found a guy who knew a guy who could get us a seat. All we needed was a bribe…500 rupees ($10) between us two bought a bed in sleeper class for the remaining 12 hours. Well worth it. We had to share, but we were able to breathe decent air and after curling up like dogs we slept a bit.

Times like these on the train really test me as a person. I came to India looking for adventure and a challenge, and train rides are one of many experiences here that have fulfilled that. I’ve learned staying positive during challenging situations is not only valuable- it is crucial. I feel I will return home with more patience, stronger resilience, and probably lower standards for comfort and cleanliness. Thank you, India!

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