I wrote this while riding the train to Sawai Madhopur. Although this was almost two weeks ago, I felt I should post it anyways.
I am currently sitting on the top bunk of a sleeper car,
heading from Mathura to Sawai Madhopur. I am accompanied by six other
individuals, I make seven, split between six beds. An Indian woman sleeps on
the lower bunk to the side of me, across the aisle - a white uniform sheet
covering her round body. An Indian man sleeping on the lower bed directly
across from me, whose irritated manner gave away his displeasure of us joining
his company. Laura, Israel, Olivia and I sprawled between the last of the beds
– Laura, Israel, and I slept on the three tops bunks, Olivia on the last
available bottom one. A rat makes the seventh of our company, who occasionally
scurries amongst the bags.
India is not one for the faint of heart. Although India is
dramatically different from the comfortable setting of the United States, I
feel like I have eased into the way of life here. My adjustment period happened
the moment I stepped out onto my first Delhi street, like that I was in it.
Although very discouraged by many, I am incredibly happy
with the decision to take the train across India. The scenes the Indian country
side has to offer are incomparable. Drifting out of the New Delhi railway
station this morning, we were immersed into a new world. Men were distributed
across the side of the tracks, doing their morning business – bare assed and
all. No shame or concern for the passing train as they splashed water on their
privates and washed themselves with their left hands.
The train station is a world in itself, where the homeless
of the tracks make a living. As a white American, I have discovered that we are
perceived as a walking bank. Children of every age surround us with their hands
outstretched, each with their own routine, begging for food, water, an empty
bottle. If we do cave, and share our water or hand them a rupee, then we are
suddenly surrounded. They ascend upon us like hawks on a newly skinned carcass.
This greatly discourages us from giving these children of the tracks anything.
It is unbearable to feel so helpless to help them.
