Planes, trains, and... camels?

Memoirs of a train journey:

         Everyone was extremely excited for us. The second years at SSLA went to the Jaipur International Literature Fest last year. Many of them had never been on such an interesting train journey before; therefore, they had lots of warnings for us first-timers. Beware the toilets covered in filth. Hide your shoes at night, or they'll be missing in the morning. Don't eat the train food...

Our first Indian train experience. 

         

       I was honestly ecstatic for our first Indian train ride halfway across the entire country. After a tiring and hot bus ride to Mumbai, filled with the screams of numerous excited Indians, we made it to the Mumbai Central train station. Mumbai is a thousand cities packed into one. You know when you have entered the city limits. It’s different than Pune. You can taste it in your mouth and feel it on your skin. It’s the city of “beautiful forevers” and the city of daily nightmares.
        

        Everyone has a purpose in Mumbai, and you don’t want to get in the way of peoples’ final destinations. The platform was packed full of people being herded like cattle through a muddy run. Idling is not allowed, or you’ll be run over by children begging for money, hawkers selling everything from locks and chains to UNO cards, or frazzled travelers just trying to find their seat in order to catch a break.

        

        We found our crowded seats in the second train car, stranded form the rest of the liberal arts college students. The isles of the passenger car were overly congested and narrow, packed full of vendors with loud, crackling voices shouting, “Chai—ee. Chai—ee.” We settled into our bench squished next to a couple of windows. Tess, being slightly taller, had to bend a little to fit under the uncomfortable, nylon made bed above us. I scanned the curious onlookers surrounding us making sure they wouldn’t be the type to swipe my new Tom shoes from under me.

The engineering gang. They brought an entire feast for dinner
and shared some with us. Guess they take the
"don't eat the train food" literally.

        Across from us sat a group from an engineering college in Mumbai. At some point, they asked us for a photograph, breaking the awkward stares from both parties. In all honesty, the color of our skin, the lightness of our eyes, and the reflecting essence of my hair truly makes us stand out as if we are the most astonishing actresses. (I have decided that we are making the tinfoil-alien repelling-hats from The Sixth Sense and wearing them around India. We are never going to fit in, so we might as well have fun with it!)           

      The train trip that night consisted of a card game with our new friends, some interrupted reading, and a lot of mesmerizing the world that whooshed rapidly by. Women in colorful saris slaved away in the fields. A content man in solitude reminisced by the side of a peaceful stream. A little boy waved as the train rushed on to its next target.         
     
      “How often do they see these express trains from Mumbai to Jaipur?” I wondered. In Mumbai alone, seven million people commute daily on trains, all swiftly moving tunnels crammed full of complete strangers.              
      I waved back knowing I’ll be forgotten by the next blonde blur, but I hoped the smile on the boy's face would last longer.        

Captured as the train flew past.

        

      Tess and I were finally moved to Car 1 with the rest of the SSLA group. We chatted and made some new friends. This was our first chance to actually get to know the first years of the college. I had a long conversation with Varundeep, a young student interested in filmmaking. I thought he was going to pass out when I let him hold my new Canon 5D. We stopped at a few more stations. By midnight, the excitement died down and the thought of sleep overtook us all.   
  

       The temperature was dropping as we sped further north; therefore, Tess and I decided to share a two-foot wide bed (or lack of bed, I should say). It was a restless sleep, but I was appreciative of the few hours of dosing I received. Thanks to Morgan’s gift of a Delta Skybucks blowup pillow, I was quite comfortable. Besides the occasional growling man above us, I was able to keep my closed till the sun began to rise.