ridin' the rails

khajuraho, india

i might be certifiably insane. saturday, just after the big hand and the small hand rendezvous at 12 to introduce the afternoon, i will board a southbound train. 44 hours later, this train will run out of track less than 1 km from where the sub-continent will run out of, well, sub-continent. for lack of better terminology, this will be known as the cmonjohnjustbuyaplaneticketyoucantbedoingthistoyourselfanymoreyourealmost30anditstimetostopseeinghowmuchdiscomfortyourbodycanendure- part of the trip. but it's not as bad as it seems [note: i write this before the ride]. i'll have a fully charged ipod and a pair of books, plus i gave myself a rare splurge and opted for 2-tier ac, the highest class available on this train. rain or shine, leg cramps or fluffed pillows, this will prove to be a memorable trip and perhaps the right occasion to describe one of india's most iconic experiences: travel by rail.

tickets, please
i don't believe one must display such personal strength and determination just to buy a train ticket anywhere else in the world. i am eternally grateful to a cohort of australians who gave me the website where foreigners can purchase rail tickets, otherwise i would have spent far more time doing so at the stations. this process is less than straightforward. for one, the signage is awful. many stations have more than one building and the bookings for foreigners and locals can be in different locations. to not know exactly where to go is to be at the mercy of the sharks circling the parking lot. one directed me to the wrong building, hoping this would make me more susceptible to enlist him as my chauffeur to my destination. carrying 20 kilos on my back in muggy rajasthan, i walked across the rail campus to find the designated window in the correct building. he had left my side meters back, after i lucidly pronounced a succinct phrase in the command form that he appeared to understand immediately.

mind the gap
the rail stations are home to some of the most shocking moments of my experience in india. i knew to expect the stark poverty in this country, but the concentration of destitution on the platforms is obscenely high. there is generally at least one disheveled child under the age of six that will follow until you've ignored them enough, occasionally tugging at your pants and always pleading. old men and women will be sitting on platforms or stairs, hands cupped and extended to all passersby, moaning a weak, pitchless ballad in the hopes of receiving some form of charity. then there are the crippled. i have seen children with s-shaped spines, clubbed feet, several missing limbs, grotesque scars, legs thinner than baseball bats, and am only grateful that i only heard of and did not see the man with elephantiasis of the testicles. it is bad enough that these handicaps exist, but to know that many of these injuries were received to make them effective beggars is horrifying. and since it is their primary source of income, these deformities are pushed in your face to achieve maximum affect (having an arm stub brushing purposely against you is not easily forgotten).

all aboard
the ride itself is nothing short of spectacular. to date, i have opted for the sleeper class, where prices are obscenely low (us$7 for one 900 km trip) and the cultural immersion is the best. these carriages are divided into several open compartments featuring long benches arranged in groups of six, three stacked vertically on either side of the window. in theory, everyone sits on the lowest bench until night, when people get into their respective berths for what i've found to be, surprisingly, a not unbearably uncomfortable nights sleep. there are fans along the ceiling and the temperature is reasonable so long as the train is moving, which, thankfully, it generally is.

so the price is right and its just shy of the amenities of its big brother, 3 tier ac. but what sleeper has is what a republican campaign manager would brand 'the real indians'. my companions between jodhpur and hardiwar, clad in white linen, adorned the window with flowers to signal that they were on a pilgrimage. the children of a nearby family couldn't peel their eyes off of me, the exotic foreigner, during a trip from delhi to jaipur. add to this the men carrying heated thermoses and chanting 'chai/coffee' in their snuggly indian accents, the vendors selling anything from english novels to peanuts to toy guns to playing cards, and then the occasional eunuch parading through to offer blessings and you only need the dancing tigers to have a bona fide circus. all of this may sound chaotic to some, but i'll aver that one train ride in sleeper class is enough to justify the airfare to this corner of the world. having said that, i won't be pining for it when i'm riding in style this weekend ('oh, champagnewallah, more bubbly over here good sir!').