Once again, finding myself in the Haridwar train station, waiting for another late train to take me to Delhi, I am watching life unfold around me. India has a life of its own and it's beyond me to figure it out. Maybe that's the idea of visiting this strange and somehow wonderful land. Amidst the garbage, poo, wandering domestic animals who've taken on a more feral lifestyle and pollution is an underlying breath of fresh air. Talk to almost any Indian in a shop, taxi, on the street. The stiff upper lip gives way to a broad smile and friendly chat.
I'm both flummoxed and confused and I think it will take a long time to define my feelings and perceptions of this mysterious land and it's people. There'll be stories to tell for a long time, I'm sure.
People from all over India travel by rail. It's cheap but tiresome, and the experience allows people to meet people. Strangers who begin the journey together end up sharing newspapers, gossip and snacks along the way. Seat switching is common, too, as the window seatee notices the person next to them is looking ill from lack of fresh air and out of compassion or worry, offers to change seats.
These similarly dressed women are from Rajahstan. My only connection with them at the station was when one, after finishing a cup of chai, came up to me for "moneee, pleeze."
Red-coated porters, like ladybugs in summer, are everywhere. As you enter
the station, they are at your side, asking to carry luggage, etc. They have, apparently, very strong brains and skulls. I'm amazed at what Indians can carry above their shoulders. Perhaps it's from years of living with struggle and strife.
There are many fewer benches than people, so sitting on the platform is not unusual, as is sleeping on the platform. I do think many people use the train station as their homes. Sleeping, begging and using the rails or parked train cars as their toilets, it is the "perfect" home for those who have none.
Although this is so dark, perhaps you can see the mad rush that occurs when the train is loading. People do NOT know how to queue up (sp?) and it's generally a free for all.
Again, sorry for the dark image. This is an example of one couple's home on the station. As each train's worth of passengers gather, the woman (a woman's work is NEVER done!) sidles up to (usually foreign)passengers with her cup, looking for "moneeeee, pleeze." I offered a cookie from my package as I'd run out of change from giving it to the men who travel on scooter boards and other homeless creatures. She seemed a bit miffed, but begrudgingly held out her cup for me to drop in my pittance.
The actual ride to Delhi was lovely for most of the way. We passed fields and fields of sugar cane (shown below) and rice. The sugar cane is tied in bundles as it matures to keep it from flopping over and to make it easier to cut upon harvesting.
Here's what we're breathing along the way. This is the diesel smoke that comes from the locomotive. You can also catch this lovely view (and smell) while walking along the roads as it spews from buses and trucks. Healthy, eh? Indian women have taught me to carry a hankie everywhere to use as a mask for covering one's nose when in the general proximity of "bad smells."
Many families live in houses like these. They are constructed from plastic tarps, branches, garbage and other sturdy materials to keep out the rain and little else. They are built right on the ground so it's like camping all year round, except there's no blankets or pillows. Indians are very good at using their arms as pillows!
The saddest part of this is that these houses stand side by side with the high price hotels and big corporate buildings in Delhi. I asked my taxi driver if seeing this bothered him. He shrugged and replied that it did not. I think people either become immune to such disparities (sp?) or have lived with them for so long that they don't even notice them.
Time for a bath! The water comes from the mountains (or somewhere) and is piped into the cities. The problem (yet another) is that even in the mountains, due to the litter and refuse and detergents used for washing clothes, even this water is contaminated. However, it does wash away the sweat and serves to cool one down, if even for an hour.
Coming into Delhi, one gets to see the Yamuna River. It seems to be the "sigh of relief" point for weary travelers. Once it's spotted, people wake up and start getting their bags off the overhead racks, ready to leave the train in the same haphazard way they got on.
I will leave you with this last photo and the story behind it. There'd been an announcement about a platform train for an incoming train. Passengers are provided with a very efficient system of ramps and bridges to cross from one platform to another. However, in this photo, you can see the preferred method of changing platforms. Passengers, along with their bags, children, grandparents, etc., rush to the edge of the platform, jump onto the tracks and walk across the rails to the next platform! It's a strange land, indeed!
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