0
Bravery
Posted by
jyoti
,
23 June 2008
·
14 views
There are those who might consider it brave to move 8,700 miles around the world to a country that I have never lived in nor seen. I have concluded that bravery is more often the direct result of ignorance. That is, "if I had known", my bravery might have wilted under the sheer weight of knowing what it would actually be like. Not that I regret coming to India, but there are moments when I wonder what the naive me-self of two years ago would have thought of the realities of living here.
Last year, I took a whirlwind tour of North India, entailing 3 weeks spent traveling out of which an equivalent of 7 days was spent in the train. Having just spent 6 weeks out of the country, I had two days to come back to India, switch gears, repack a quite different wardrobe from what I had been wearing, and jump onto the train ... I had no idea what I was getting into, and no time to think about it. It was simply go-time.
Now? Now I know exactly what I'm getting myself into. I now know that there are both cockroaches and mice on trains, though not all the time. (I also know that they cannot get up to the top bunk, and will absolutely refuse to hear any arguments otherwise, thank you very much). I now know what it is to be on guard for days at a time against pick pockets, thieves, touts, cheating taxi and auto drivers, and men who find a woman traveling alone an easy target for a cheap feel, if nothing else. That and the simple discomfort of spending 3 days in a tight space with 8 other random, bored people who haven't bathed since they got on the train either....
Thursday, I was supposed to be leaving for a quick trip to the Northeast and to Nepal, tagging along with several friends who were headed the same direction. Thursday night, I caught an auto (rickshaw) at 9:00, meaning I would arrive at the station a full two hours early. Generally I wouldn't be so early, but I preferred being at the station rather than sitting at the side of the road at 10:30 at night.
The good thing about being so early was that I was one of the first to know that the train was cancelled. Ummm... .what? CANCELLED the guy sitting at the plexiglass window said into the microphone, his voice coming through the speakers so that everyone in the station would be aware what we were discussing even though he was sitting less than two feet in front of me. WHAT? Who cancels a train? Even the porter didn't really know what to do.
So, after verifying that I could cancel my tickets online, I headed home... "I'll take you for meter and a half. Only 150!" An auto said outside.
"Meter and a half is 120," I said.
"No, madame. Meter and a half is 150."
"No, really," I said, trying not to roll my eyes. "I just got here 20 minutes ago. It was 120 for meter and a half..." He did a double take.
"You're not getting off a train?... You just got here?"
We whittled it down to 130, and he even carried my bag for me.Heck, I felt bad having him let me off two blocks from where I actually live (It was 10:30 at night and I am in the house alone just now). I felt especially bad after he came chasing me down the street after I’d started walking. “Madame! Madame! You dropped this!” I had terrible visions of leaving my wallet in the auto, only to see that he was holding up my forgotten tube of chapstick, anxious that I leave nothing behind.
So, I headed home, eating Kurkure and saltine crackers for dinner--the snacks I'd gotten for the train. Then began the flurry to reroute the whole plan... except this time my friends had made other emergency plans, and I would be traveling on my own.
And here comes the bravery part. Because last time I was brave, and exhausted, and a little stupid. Three days on the train could be fun, right? But this time there won't be anyone to meet me at the station, to travel with me across the border, to watch my stuff when I go use the loo. And this time I am feeling much less brave about traveling by myself, and already feeling the tension of constant vigilance creeping up my back and neck.
And yet, I was so disappointed to not be on the train! I really was looking forward to a few days with no internet, no power to run the computer, and the bag full of books I had set aside to read on the way.... I love the moment of a trip when the car pulls out of the driveway, the train pulls out of a station, the plane doors close and there is no turning back. And my memories of train travel aren’t all bad! My last long train ride ended up with the 5 guys in my compartment, two old women, me, and two girls singing Bollywood songs for one another for the last several hours into Bangalore. I loved the toy train form Kalka to Himachal and would do that again over and over… Yep, riding the rails has it's good moments as well. .... Perhaps it is just the big question mark hanging over the trip: like the auto drivers, will this be a good one, a bad one, or simply mediocre?
Well, here goes... and I take the plunge again, buying new train tickets to try again in two weeks. I'll let ya' know how it turns out this time.
Last year, I took a whirlwind tour of North India, entailing 3 weeks spent traveling out of which an equivalent of 7 days was spent in the train. Having just spent 6 weeks out of the country, I had two days to come back to India, switch gears, repack a quite different wardrobe from what I had been wearing, and jump onto the train ... I had no idea what I was getting into, and no time to think about it. It was simply go-time.
Now? Now I know exactly what I'm getting myself into. I now know that there are both cockroaches and mice on trains, though not all the time. (I also know that they cannot get up to the top bunk, and will absolutely refuse to hear any arguments otherwise, thank you very much). I now know what it is to be on guard for days at a time against pick pockets, thieves, touts, cheating taxi and auto drivers, and men who find a woman traveling alone an easy target for a cheap feel, if nothing else. That and the simple discomfort of spending 3 days in a tight space with 8 other random, bored people who haven't bathed since they got on the train either....
Thursday, I was supposed to be leaving for a quick trip to the Northeast and to Nepal, tagging along with several friends who were headed the same direction. Thursday night, I caught an auto (rickshaw) at 9:00, meaning I would arrive at the station a full two hours early. Generally I wouldn't be so early, but I preferred being at the station rather than sitting at the side of the road at 10:30 at night.
The good thing about being so early was that I was one of the first to know that the train was cancelled. Ummm... .what? CANCELLED the guy sitting at the plexiglass window said into the microphone, his voice coming through the speakers so that everyone in the station would be aware what we were discussing even though he was sitting less than two feet in front of me. WHAT? Who cancels a train? Even the porter didn't really know what to do.
So, after verifying that I could cancel my tickets online, I headed home... "I'll take you for meter and a half. Only 150!" An auto said outside.
"Meter and a half is 120," I said.
"No, madame. Meter and a half is 150."
"No, really," I said, trying not to roll my eyes. "I just got here 20 minutes ago. It was 120 for meter and a half..." He did a double take.
"You're not getting off a train?... You just got here?"
We whittled it down to 130, and he even carried my bag for me.Heck, I felt bad having him let me off two blocks from where I actually live (It was 10:30 at night and I am in the house alone just now). I felt especially bad after he came chasing me down the street after I’d started walking. “Madame! Madame! You dropped this!” I had terrible visions of leaving my wallet in the auto, only to see that he was holding up my forgotten tube of chapstick, anxious that I leave nothing behind.
So, I headed home, eating Kurkure and saltine crackers for dinner--the snacks I'd gotten for the train. Then began the flurry to reroute the whole plan... except this time my friends had made other emergency plans, and I would be traveling on my own.
And here comes the bravery part. Because last time I was brave, and exhausted, and a little stupid. Three days on the train could be fun, right? But this time there won't be anyone to meet me at the station, to travel with me across the border, to watch my stuff when I go use the loo. And this time I am feeling much less brave about traveling by myself, and already feeling the tension of constant vigilance creeping up my back and neck.
And yet, I was so disappointed to not be on the train! I really was looking forward to a few days with no internet, no power to run the computer, and the bag full of books I had set aside to read on the way.... I love the moment of a trip when the car pulls out of the driveway, the train pulls out of a station, the plane doors close and there is no turning back. And my memories of train travel aren’t all bad! My last long train ride ended up with the 5 guys in my compartment, two old women, me, and two girls singing Bollywood songs for one another for the last several hours into Bangalore. I loved the toy train form Kalka to Himachal and would do that again over and over… Yep, riding the rails has it's good moments as well. .... Perhaps it is just the big question mark hanging over the trip: like the auto drivers, will this be a good one, a bad one, or simply mediocre?
Well, here goes... and I take the plunge again, buying new train tickets to try again in two weeks. I'll let ya' know how it turns out this time.
