chennai to mumbai

train ticket secured, i walked across the street from my hotel to the chennai egmore station to board the six a.m. train to mumbai. chaiwallahs and other sellers of various goods were already out in full force, making it a perfect india train riding experience. making it an even more perfect experience was the fact that i had gotten a ticket on the most basic class of travel on indian trains. i had the lowest of three beds hung from the ceiling of the train, meaning i was packed against the wall by the rest of the travelers on that half of the berth.

the ride got underway almost on time, surprisingly, and i was glad to leave the station as it is not pleasant to wait on the tracks for an extended period of time in indian train stations - the local folks seem to rather enjoy using the tracks as a public toilet when they are unoccupied by the large, light blue train cars. they also open the water spigots that line the tracks in the stations and use them as impromptu showers whenever possible. stagnant water along with human waste along with the heat make for a truly memorable olfactory experience.

needless to say that i was concerned about the 26-hour ride that i had in front of me. after the first few hours, however, i realized that i was truly enjoying the trip, listening to my ipod and sporadically engaging in conversation with folks who were especially interested in my seattle mariners baseball cap. the only drawback that i could find about the lower train class was that beggars are not removed from the cars. in the air conditioned classes, the train conductors are pretty good about keeping people out of the cars who have not purchased a ticket, but they don´t seem to mind in the lower classes of travel. every so often i would be prodded by a beggar who had found himself lucky enough to encounter a gora in the sleeper class. one boy didn´t want money from me, he only wanted the remainder of a bottle of coke that i was drinking.

i had fallen asleep for a couple of hours, as it is pretty difficult to stay awake when it is very warm and you have a nice breeze coming through the window to keep you cool while listening to old sigur ros albums. i was jolted awake by a woman who pulled off my hat and headphones and grabbed my face in her hands. she was a really incredible looking creature, probably in her fifties, with stark white hair tied in a pony tail, hands and face died with henna, chains joining the piercings in her ears and nose and stunning green eyes contrasted against her chocolate brown skin. she stared at me for an uncomfortably long period of time, released my face from her grasp and said, "thank you, i have now seen the soul of god in you eyes." she disappeared out of the berth and up the aisle, leaving me to deal with the rest of the onlookers, whom by that point were numerous. each of them were giving me a stare that i can´t really classify, unclear as to what they meant by their glances.

it is impossible to go hungry or thirsty on indian trains as there are constantly chaiwallahs and wallahs of other drinks and snacks patrolling the train cars trying to make a sale, each screaming at the top of their lungs what they are selling. even in the middle of the night it is possible to procure some sort of treat, if you are able to look away from your sleeping quarters for a second. this is a very dangerous game, however, as it requires the dedication of a sentinel to protect your bed from those who have boarded the train without making a reservation with hopes of jumping into a bed with someone who isn´t paying proper attention to share a place to sleep for the night. even if you are asleep and someone sees an opening, they will not hesitate to take it and try to get into your bed with you. this was another thing that only happens in the sleeper class on trains.

another danger at night are the projectiles that are launched from the sides of the tracks by kids trying to have a good time. someone in an adjacent car was struck by a rock around two a.m., forcing the conductors to go around, waking everyone on the train and instructing them to shut the blinds, making the remainder of the ride rather uncomfortable without the natural ventilation provided by the open windows, which are actually just squares cut out of the side of the train with bars over the openings. needless to say, this proved to be a rather sleepless night.

the train pulled into the mumbai dadar station around six a.m. dadar is not one of the major stations in the city and i was therefore accosted by the gaggle of taxi drivers who had congregated outside the gate. i sat down on a curb, hoping that my indifference would force them into dispersing, though i had no such luck. quite the opposite, in fact, as a pair of drivers snatched one of my bags and put it into their cab. i was headed for colaba and they told me that they would run the meter, so i found myself to be quite fortunate. about fifteen minutes later, we were on the colaba causeway and i was getting out of the cab, handing them the amount of rupees dictated by the meter. of course, these two idiots pulled out a sheet of paper with the "meter conversion" rates on it, a list that stated that i owed them rs. 850.

a fifteen minute cab ride in new york city doesn´t cost $17, so these two were in for it. i demanded their names and the number of the cab so i could call the transit police, at which point the argument really got going. too tired and sick of the two idiots to continue, i handed them the money. when i asked for my change, they told me i had not paid them, so they owed me no change and kept asking for the original amount over and over again. at this point i got out of the cab, pulled the driver out and coincidentally discovered the money i had given him under an elastic band up his sleeve. the other driver jumped out of the car and threw my bags on the sidewalk before the two of them sped away.

i had been welcomed back to mumbai in true indian fashion!