Trip with sister: Getting on the train

We walked down to the platform just to find it packed. People standing, sitting on the scarce benches and on the less scarce ground, sleeping right here on a spread cloth, wandering around, munching biscuits, masterly draw dhal from tiny banana-leave plates, sipping water from big plastic containers carried from home, chatting, reading, staring, - waiting for the train seemed such an secondary activity in the abundance of many others to engage in. We walked back and forth to find out that no one knew for sure where our car would stop, so we took some place to anchor our backpack. Once we did the range of the activities at the platform got enriched by one more – watching two white girls. Beggars, guys who were happy just to stand nearby and stare, well-dressed men sitting aside, shuttling porters and food vendors made our waiting merrier. Yet, by the amount of time we had been waiting and by the lack of the developments on the platform we concluded it was time to ask. That was how I got to know the train was delayed by 2,5 hours. I bet those selling us the ticket knew. Rather fatalistic I explained to my horrified sister, ‘that is how it is’, we put some plastic bags on the steps leading to the platform and got seated. I was writing my diary and now and then asking people about the delay status. Not all of them very able to understand, some men were so horrified by being directly approached by a single white women that did not show any knowledge of English which they obviously had otherwise. Yet, more or less all people around got aware of what train we had to take. Among the surreality and the nonsense we encountered that night there was a Sikh man who was waiting for the same train and who clearly explained us the situation. When the train came and the whole platform invited us two to get on, he even gave us his business card and invited over should we be in Ludiana (Punjab) one day. I sincerely thanked him.

The second sleeper first time experienced by us both did not look welcoming especially in the night when all cats tend to be grey, as we say in Russia. Honestly, I did not expect it to be half-empty and half-full of men only. I did not think the car would be so populated with the insects and little animals either. Yet for me all these circumstances were really minor in comparison with what constituted the real challenge. My sister climbed to the upper birth and did not find it particularly clean. He tried two types of hygienic tissues to improve the situation, but neither did the job. In fact, the birth was so dirty that any fresh tissue was getting black after a single swipe… however many fresh tissues you would use… and I totally forgot about the bed sheets. On the top of it my sister saw an insect that she thought was a louse. After fighting a lizard and bravely entering Lajpat Nagar kitchen late nights I was hardly impressed with the train. Yet, I had no idea what to do with her who had to travel India by the lowest standard because her sister could not afford a better one. She looked frustrated and about-to freak-out. I hugged her and confidently proclaimed that the insects were not louse, that she never saw them, so how could she know… and anyway she will fall asleep now and will be fine in the morning. I was happy that in India I had learned to invent arguments on the way and sound somewhat convincing when having serious doubts myself.