Adventures in Varanasi and Beyond

Train Disasters

I departed from Udaipur on Monday evening on the 6:30 train, and I arrived in Delhi early the next morning. There, I met up with my brother Graham's friend Megan (who he knew from study abroad in Cairo) and her fellow intern in Punjab Michael, who is from Germany. We spent the morning in Delhi together and booked a train to Varanasi that was to depart at 1:30 p.m.

We arrived at the train station promptly at 12:30, with time to collect our luggage from storage (which was crawling with giant rats) and find our platform. There were some major train delays because of an earlier accident on the railways, so our train did not appear on the information screen. When it was almost 1 p.m., we asked around for directions and moved towards platforms 7 and 9, based on different information given to us by different train station agents. 1:30 came and went, and still our train had not arrived at the station. Around 2 pm, over the loud speakers, we heard what we thought might, possibly, be an announcement about our train leaving from platform 12. I inquired in another inquiry office, and the woman told me that yes, our train was leaving from platform 12 - at any minute!

Unfortunately, I had everything I own with me in my giant backpack, so it was not easy to move. Michael graciously carried it for me and gave me his almost empty backpack and we went running to the train. At the door I shoved our ticket into someone's face, he looked and nodded, and we boarded. As soon as we were on the train started moving. I showed some train employees our seat numbers and they pointed us to the front of the train. We struggled through about 10 cars to the front of the train - everyone insisted our car was at the front. When we reached the front, we showed some more people our ticket. Then we knew there was a problem. They shook their heads and muttered in Hindi and finally told us we were on the wrong train and this one was not going to Varanasi. What followed went something like this:

Train man: This wrong train. Not go to Varanasi.
Me: Oh shit, oh shit.
Megan: What should we do? Sir, can you tell us what we should do?
Me: Oh shit, oh shit!
Train man: You get off train! Otherwise you have big problem!
Me: Just get off?
Train man: Yes!
Me: Right here?
Train man: Yes!

Luckily, as the train pulls out of the station, it moves very slowly and often pauses. So when the men told us to get off, the train happened to lurch to a stop, and we got off. It was a far jump down (poor Michael with my bag as heavy as me), but we just walked along the tracks back to the station, much to the amusement of all the Indians watching us from the train windows. When we arrived at platform 12 again, our train was there waiting for us! We boarded, showed our ticket to every person we saw and asked about 15 times if it was going to Varanasi, and soon thereafter it left!

We were so sweaty and exhausted from running and jumping and walking along the tracks that the clean, cool, A/C cabin was a welcome relief. We all took very luxurious naps in the sleepers and still slept well at night.


India's Holy City

Varanasi is an amazing city. We are lucky to be here for the Shiva festival. The city is full of Shivite pilgrims dressed in orange and carrying poles on their shoulders from which hang canisters of smoking incense and flowers and sparkly Hindu decorations. Last night we went to the ghats to watch the festival on the banks of the Ganges river. We lit candles in little banana leaf boats full of flower petals and placed them in the river. We also convinced a group of young Shivite men to hold a sign that said "Happy Birthday Graham" and pose for a picture to send to him. They loved it, and so did Graham I think, who loved Varanasi so much.

Since the river is so high and the current so strong, the police have forbidden boat rides. This morning we awoke at dawn and watched Hindus make puja on the ghats again. We tried to secure an illegal boat ride, but after our guides paddled for two minutes, a neighbor warned them of police trouble nearby and we had to get out without really going anywhere at all. So we walked along the ghats instead, which are not only sprinkled with shrines and temples and bathing pilgrims everywhere, but which are also on the edge of some beautiful, crumbling, ancient and majestic Indian buildings. They look like the palaces of Rajasthan, but darker and more weathered and abandoned.

Tonight we are taking a bus to the Nepalese border where we will process our visas in the morning and then make our way to Lumbini, the birthplace of the man who would become the Buddha. Then we will venture into the mountains of Nepal. I am so tired of being hot and sticky and constantly sweaty that I have decided to stay in the mountains for the rest of my trip in Asia. I will only venture down from the Himalayas for required travel through Delhi. The heat is just not fun anymore.