On Trains

For a long time I've meant to write a blog detailing my experiences on Indian long-distance trains; to chronicle my 36-hour Chennai-Delhi (and back, another 36) business trip back in January; to document my nearly full week spent on trains since my arrival in India. But alas, time does not travel by track, it flies, and my aspirations, instead of dashing forward, have been dashed.

I even jotted down memorable train happenings in preparation--the people I sat near, the food, the toilets, the views, the noises, the smells, the "whatever...maybe I'm crazy thoughts" experienced near hour 23, the "I'm a fucking genius" epiphanies near hour 32. I even recall spending several hours on the train considering how to address this elusive train entry, probably mostly because I was pretty bored (hours 6-9 perhaps?).

I wanted to convey the odd feeling of waking up in the morning after a stop-and-go-night, a loud-horn-hot-cold-disturbing dream-night, removing your earplugs, straightening your pants, and watching village people relieve themselves by the side of the tracks as you pass by at 30 km/hr awaiting your chai and your chance to use the toilet and leave your own mark on the tracks. I wanted paint a nice picture of the routine Indians have on the train--sleep, eat, talk, reshuffle things, yell a little, drool a little--they can take a 36-hour train ride and not have anymore entertainment than the day they were born. It's quite amazing considering my step brothers get a DVD player in the back seat of the car or the hoards of ipod shufflers tuning out and waiting for the 5th subway stop to arrive. I wanted to say something about simplicity, and practicality, about sustainability and reliability. About how I always seemed to end up bunked in the middle of a Jr. High cricket team or a Middle School field trip, about the casual manner in which everyone disposes of their trash out the window, about the way little kids can stare at the white man until, until, maybe until he turns dark.

But Chennai is getting hot and at 33 C and up maybe it's hard for me to stream all these special little occurrences together when my body would rather my mind not stall on day-long train rides for too long, but rather ice cream or bagels, or mountains. So, as has become routine (similar to my routine complaining about the heat), when words fail then I resort to ill-conceived digital camera videos which offer mildly better insight with far less effort. I have to credit Adam and his fancy "audio recording" camera for this clip, and for keeping his sense of humor after waiting 3 hours for the train while immersed in a sea of Indians with rummy 500 and acetaminophen, and each other's company, as our only solace.