After successfully squeezing my hand, holding a wad of cash, through the small opening in the ticket window, the agent inside asked about my destination. I informed him that I needed two sleeper bunk tickets to Barhni, the border crossing into Nepal. Stating the price, he took the required amount from my clenched fist and provided details on the platform and arrival time of the train. Shortly after, I obtained the tickets and navigated my way out of the crowd.
Donna, who had been waiting at a safe distance with our bags, examined the tickets which indicated the platform number and the time of departure, a few hours away. I suggested that we grab a meal and pick up some snacks for the journey ahead, to which she agreed.
Since our stomachs were still recovering from previous spicy meals, we opted for non-spicy options. Samosas were a popular choice due to their portability and cleanliness. The egg ghugni was also quite delicious. With our provisions secured, we were prepared for the upcoming trip.
Waiting on the Train
After finding a spot, we settled down to await the train and observe the bustling activity around us. The scene was captivating as passengers eagerly awaited the train’s arrival. Some individuals sat on benches, either smoking or reading newspapers, while others paced back and forth on the platform. Vendors were busy with their goods, creating a lively atmosphere. When a train finally pulled in, chaos ensued.
Passengers disembarked and boarded the train, accompanied by luggage handlers carrying heavy suitcases. Parents tightly held onto their children amidst the commotion on the platform. Eventually, everything was organized for the train’s departure. As the engine’s whistle blew, a wave of goodbyes echoed through the air from friends and family. The train slowly started moving, gradually disappearing from view. With that, the platform cleared out significantly, anticipating the arrival of the next train.
Crowded Much?
This scene repeated several times until it was our turn to locate our car of our train when it arrived. We found our bunks, one above and one below, our bags and instruments in the top, and sat together on the bottom bunk. Passengers continued to enter our car, squeezing in wherever there was space. One man smiled and squeezed in next to us on our lower bunk. No one took a position on our upper berth. Soon, there was no space left for anyone else to squeeze in. The car was filled wall to wall with people, all staring and smiling at the only foreigners on the train. The whistle blew, and shortly after, the train huffed and puffed, slowly departing from the station.
Every action we took seemed to captivate everyone in our car. Their eyes widened as we whispered to each other, “This is really strange! Should I perform a magic trick or play the guitar?” I inquired.
“No!” Donna quickly replied.
Even as the station faded into the distance and we left the city behind, passengers continued to gaze at us with wide eyes and smiles. It was going to be a long journey. We took out our books and started reading. People moved closer to the edge of their seats to catch a glimpse of what we were reading. I almost felt like we should hold up the books so everyone could see them better. This continued for some time with a few people losing interest and nodding off to sleep. When I stood up to get something in our bags on the top berth, their eyes would pop open to see what was going on. They didn’t want to miss a thing!
Clickety-clack
The man sitting next to us decided to find a place on the floor where he could recline. The train rocked slowly side to side as it clickety-clacked rhythmically across the Indian landscape. A little uneasy about leaving our baggage unattended on the top berth, I climbed up to lay down while Donna took the bottom. We closed our eyes, and nodded off. When I opened them again, I could see that the wall of people had been watching us with interest as we napped. Soon we pulled into a station where food sellers came to the windows hawking their treats and drinks. It wasn’t long before the whistle blew and we were off again.
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, the train continued past cities, villages, fields, crossing highways and the Ganges river. We stopped briefly at another station or two picking up and dropping off passengers and crates. Our car remained crowded with passengers. When night fell the beds were pulled down for sleeping. People with purchased berths closed their curtains while others huddled together wherever they could. The berths were not made for people my size. Donna had one of our packs below with her while I curled up around the instruments and our second bag. Somehow we slept.
Stretch Stop
It wasn’t even light out yet when we pulled into a station and people excitedly began to pile out for a half-hour stop. This was an opportunity to find some food and stretch our legs a little bit. We grabbed our most important bags and followed the throng. Dim lights revealed the mass of sleepy passengers crowding around steamy food stands. Children carrying buckets with soft drinks and bottles of water for sale were making the rounds.
We didn’t venture far from the train but didn’t need to. Sellers were happy to find their way to us and sell us some goodies. The train whistle blew two short bursts, and people began to return. We boarded and climbed into our beds to munch on our early morning snacks. The whistle blew one more time, and we were off again.
Tip the lady!
Further down the line, we pulled into another station. This time we were treated to an Indian traditional experience, a transvestite singing busker! He stepped into our car and began his show, strutting and flinging his red feather boa behind himself. The man was absolutely manly with a five o’clock shadow but wearing a red dress and makeup while singing in a falsetto voice. He batted his eyelashes at me. “Tip the lady!” Donna said, and I did. He pranced and sang his way to the next car, blowing us all a kiss as he left. That was a fun diversion!
The train continued as did the people watching our every move. Although they were a bit disturbing with their bright, toothy smiles and eyes constantly focused on us, they meant us no harm. We eventually ignored them and carried on with reading or talking. I suppose we were the only entertainment available to them during the journey. We were their television.
The Border
Fifty-two hours after we boarded the train in New Delhi, we arrived at the border town of Barhni. We joked that anyone who could make that trip as a couple and not kill each other, or break up, would be able to weather anything. We disembarked from the train and walked the short distance to the border. Consisting of a barbed wire fence, a small table with a couple of chairs, and an umbrella for shade, it was not a particularly impressive border. It was also closed until later that day. Since it was already ridiculously hot, we decided to find a hotel with a bed and a cooling shower. We would then return when the border was open again.
The hotel room was huge with high ceilings and decorative molding. The elegant, yet quite faded, wallpaper hinted that it must have been magnificent and well appointed in its day. Now the only things in the room were a king-sized bed and a ceiling fan pushing hot air down from the ceiling. We put our bags down on the wood floor and went straight for the shower to cool off. Turning the spigot, we were met with disappointment. Unfortunately, only steam emerged from the shower head, reminding us of our experience in New Delhi. Chuckling, we lay on the bed under the fan, which blew hot air down on us as we simmered in our sweat, waiting for the boarder to open. We endured the heat until we either drifted off to sleep or passed out.
<3 xxx
I love your writing! And the photos! I got on a bus in Mcleodgung and squeezed into a seat with another woman. Just enough room for the two of us, then two more women pushed onto the seat! Lucky they were small!