Train time

Jan 31

I head down to the railway station two and a half hours early determined that if that wait list ticket can't be confirmed I am going to head out to the Volvo bus stand and book on to the next bus to Bangelore even if it doesn't leave until evening and I have to rent a hotel room for the day. I need some sleep. People were partying, loud voices, feminine squeals, loud TV until after four in the morning. I just wish they had been doing that the night before when police came waking me out of a deep sleep to check if I had a man in my room. Get it all over at once. Not a great hotel.

Anyways, enough said, I am in a foul mood. I guess it shows, even the guy at the ticket desk looks first abashed when I ask if I am going to be taking this train or getting my money back and then relieved when he checks his terminal and finds there is a berth for me. Glad I'm there early, have to wait for the train doors to be unlocked, but I am first on the carriage and have space and time to haul the little wheelie out of the big bag when it turns out it is too fat to fit under the seat.

I'm alone for a while, then while I am eating lunch the conductor puts a young couple with a baby into the compartment. Works out great. I finish lunch, baby finishes bottle, I crawl up into my berth and sleep, baby sleeps, parents sleep. Turns out they had a late night too. They are a young NRI couple in Visag for the lady's sister's wedding. They live in California. So odd to hear that soft American accent in India. Such a nice little baby, so quiet and content, five months old. The baby in the next compartment is the exact opposite, the journey is punctuated by frequent shrieks of childhood outrage. When the father brings her for a visit I can see why, bouncy bouncy, push her face up into strangers faces, squeak squeak with the toys, this poor kid is so overstimulated she doesn't know whether she is coming or going. Can't be still for a second, wiggles and squirms like a eel non-stop. She even falls off the seat onto the floor in the next compartment. I wince. Serious wails when she finally gets her breath back from that one. Meanwhile the little boy just smiles and gurgles, waves his legs about and snoozes through everything.

Chance Encounters

One way or another it is my last evening in Visag. Went down to the Train station the morning to check the status of my ticket. Still waitlist 1, no one has dropped out yet so I have to start thinking of alternate strategies. If I'm still waitlisted an hour before train time tomorrow I'll just get my money back and go book on one of the Volvo busses, I'm tired of waiting around.

Kind of frustrating day today. Got a lift down to the beach, far end near that sub parked on the beach, wanted to do a tour of that. No chance, the exhibit doesn't open until two. Then lunch at the Dolphin, another five star I like to stop into for a beer, a bite and some serious air conditioning at noon. Waiter asks me if I am free tomorrow evening. He's starting a new hobby, taking people on tours of Visaskhapatnums local attractions. Would have done it anytime this week end but I'm going to be on a train or bus tomorrow. I'll look him up next time I'm in Visag.

Did have a couple of interesting conversations down on the beach. A young man came by with a group and approached me. He told me he was a Christian minister and was coming down to the sea to do some baptisms asked if he could come back and talk to me afterwards. I said sure and soon he came back to tell me his tale. He used to be a Hindu, worshipped false idols, hung around this Christian church and criticized the music. Eventually he went into the church became a convert and started his own ministry. I told him I'm not religious; I believe it creates disunity by focusing on differences instead of what is common to all humanity. I was however impressed by his quiet, simplicity and obviously joyous involvement with his local community so I gave him 500 Rs just because I liked his aura.

A little further down the beach another man approached me. He had a scrap book of photos and text documenting his involvement with several gurus in the Himalayas and asked me if I wanted to become his family friend. I wondered if his wife would be quite as enthusiastic about dragging a beer drinking, cigarette smoking foreign woman in as a family friend without a little discussion first so I graciously declined, but promised if I knew any groups in Canada who needed workshops in meditation and yoga techniques I would recommend him. Two faces of Indian spirituality, the contradictions are always in your face here.

I'm getting myself a decent bed made as soon as I get back to Puttaparthi, I'm always afraid I'm going to fall off that skimpy little cot I'm using now. So when I noticed a big household linen supply place I went in and bought some sheets. The salesman tried to talk me into a poly/cotton blend because they don't need ironing but with dobie fees at 3 rupees an item I feel quite all right about indulging my love for the feel of crisp freshly ironed white cotton sheets, just like when I was a kid. $30.00 for four double bed size sheets and two single sized sheets, 100 % pure cotton, solid and substantial. Cut them right off the bolt, the in-house tailor ran up the hems while I waited. I like the way some things are done in India. Visnakhaputnam may not be well known for cotton but you can sure get some nice stuff here.

Out of the woods (I hope)

Railway station again today. Got down there about 11:15 and experienced this sinking feeling as I saw the line to the token counter snaking away across the parking lot, a feeling not enhanced by the big sign over the door saying the ticket office closes at 14:00 hours on Sundays and holidays. Surprise, ripped through the token line with minutes to spare before they shut down that window at twelve. Indian officials can be such sadists. Ten minutes before twelve I was the second in line when the lady behind the counter took off to enter a lot of stuff on a computer, leaving us all to wonder if she was going to come back before shift end. Indians cannot handle this sort of stuff. The ones behind me became frightened and started cramming their arms and fistfulls of paper under the glass, waving them at her frantically. Luckily I was one of the few others she gave numbers to before slamming down the wicket.

And luck it was, only forty people in front of me this time and a whole two hours to go before they shut the place down. Piece of cake. Took waitlisted ticket one, I felt it was pretty good odds at least one person would bail before traintime. Now I can figure out how this business of changing a waitlist ticket to a confirmed ticket works.

And I have finished the newspaper. Gives me two days off to do tourist things and go hang out on the beach in the morning, take some photos.

I suspect the whole railway station scramble had a lot to do with the celebration of Republic Day on Friday. Probably a lot of people using the stat to grab a long weekend with relatives.

How do you put a Giraffe in the Fridge?

Jan 4, 2007

Went down to the train station and bought train tickets for Remi and myself. The process reminded me of a quiz my friend Ken presented to a group of us one time.

Question one:
How do you put a giraffe in the fridge?

Answer:
You open the door and put in the giraffe.

Remi wanted me to perform some sort of legerdemain on the Internet to order tickets and pay with a credit card. When I said "I'm just going to take a rickshaw down to the station" he started questioning. Would there would be anybody there to sell tickets, (it's quite a quiet station, only a few trains come through); didn't I want to telephone first at least? He has had some harrowing experiences with paying for tickets that turned out to be waitlisted, which was not explained to him clearly. No, I'm not going to phone, I hate telephones anyway. I'm just going to go down to the station and buy tickets. This I did under the fascinated regard of half a dozen hangers on pressing up to the counter to closely watch the foreign woman buy train tickets. Doesn't take much to amuse some people in India. Open the door and put in the giraffe.

Question two:
How do you put an elephant in the fridge?

Answer:
You open the door, take out the giraffe and put in the elephant.

Told my friend Ram I had got a ticket to come up for his wedding but the line I was on only went as far as Gunter, I would have to take a bus or taxi to Repalle. He is sure the Puttaparthi guy is wrong, there are four or five trains go from Gunter to Repalle. Doesn't matter to me. If there is a train leaving in a reasonable amount of time I'll take that, if not if there is a bus also leaving in a reasonable amount of time I'll take that or I'll just hire a taxi. Figure it out when I get there. Open the door, take out the giraffe and put in the elephant.

Question three:
All the animals are at a conference in the forest except one. Which Animal is missing?

Answer:
The elephant is missing. The elephant is in the fridge.

I'm already way ahead of the game because I haven't wasted any of my emotion on worrying about stuff before I have any hard information. The elephant is in the fridge.

Question four:
There is a river that is full of crocodiles. You want to cross the river. How do you do it?

Answer:
Just swim across, the crocodiles are all at the conference.

Don't know how that one is going to work out yet.

India is so chaotic I find it really a waste of time to worry about stuff. None of your plans are ever going to play out exactly the way you plan them anyways, so it's best to just hang loose and go through the doors that open, not drive yourself nuts worrying about the ones that don't, especially before you try them.

Having fun posting all my photos to Flickr. Going to put all my collection of family snaps up too with a password for family members. Driving the guy at the computer shop crazy uploading twelve to fifteen Megs a day. He's hoping the extra rupees he's charging me will pay for the increased bandwidth charges at the end of the day. I hope they do also.

Above, my roomate.