Sandy Does The Subcontinent

The trip is coming to an end. It’s been a big, crazy, wonderful trip – but what else would you expect of India? I got really sad the last two days in Varanasi, thinking about having to go home, and wondering if everything will be just the same as I left it. How could it be? The idea was unbearable.

Then I dragged myself out of my mope and got on a train back to Delhi, where I had hands down the best sleep I can remember having in a long time, maybe years. I fell asleep listening to my new All Time Best India Train Album Ever- Low by David Bowie – and slept the sleep of the innocent for a solid nine hours. I woke up a few times just long enough to wiggle around reveling in my comfortable sleepiness.

The trip went a bit long (five hours but hey, who’s counting?) so when I got to Delhi 17 hours later I started to rethink my plan to take the train then turn around and get on a 20 hour flight the next morning. But what’s done is done. Stef was here – yay! – when I got home to Delhi, and one health smoothie and warm shower later, I was right as rain.

Now I have my things strewn all over the living room, trying to figure out exactly how I managed to collect so much stuff over the course of a single month and how to get it all home. I’ve got to sort it out soon because I’m hanging out with my friend Rashmi tonight and then to bed (an early night, I’ve already laid down the law!), and then…and then I guess I’ll wake up in the morning, go to the airport and fly back to San Francisco. Weird.

Mary went home on Friday and I was sad. I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better traveling companion. She likes the same sort of things I do (i.e. eating food, laughing at stuff, and not running around to see a bunch of sights all the time) and she took to Asia like a fish to water. I was so lucky to have her to travel with. It was great that I had the transition of being back at Stef’s those first few days after she left because I think I would have freaked out otherwise.

As it was, I had a stellar birthday weekend. On Friday, Stef and I went to the opening night performance of the first ever staging of Carmen in India. It was a co-production with some French company, and was very well done. The only thing I didn’t like was the freezing cold air conditioning in the performance hall.

We spent most of Saturday running around doing errands – I had to get my onward train ticket, picking up things for the party, taking a stroll around Pahar Ganj (I think that’s how you spell it) which is the utterly disgusting backpacker’s ghetto of Delhi. I caught three diseases just walking around there. No wonder Delhi has a bad rep with so many travelers.

Our birthday party (Stef’s birthday is two days after mine) was a great success. It’s a tad vague in my memory since I tossed out the sage advice of ‘never mix, never worry’ after the first half hour or so, but I had a great time and made lots of new friends. Needless to say, I didn’t have such a great time nursing my hangover on Sunday while trying to get ready to go. I survived, however; in large part to Stef who saved the day by running to pick up my four pairs of new trousers (pink, green, blue and orange – naturally!) from the tailor’s while I finished packing in a mad rush.

Stef’s cousin was kind enough to accompany me to the train station and make sure I found my platform and even the right car. Considering how hot, tired and ill I was feeling, this was no small life saver. Everything was fine once I was on the train. The second class sleeper cars are so nice – cool but not cold AC, plenty of space and privacy, full meals provided, free bottles of water. It would have been perfect except that I was getting to my station at 4:30am and without an alarm clock, I was afraid I’d oversleep and miss it, so I barely slept.

Oh yeah, sidenote: my ipod died within an hour of being on the train. It’s been acting a little crazy the past few times I’ve used it but I just can’t believe that it died at exactly the point when I really needed it. iHate Apple.

The only other person getting off at my stop was an Indian man who lives in Nebraska. He’s here visiting his parents in a town really close to where I am, so he gave me his phone number in case I have any trouble here or need help. I thought that was extremely kind, and it took off some of the I’m All Alone In This Big Foreign Country panicky feeling that I think I’ll probably always get no matter how much I travel solo. In fact, everyone on the train was very solicitous of me. I was in a compartment with Indian Muslim men but the only time they paid any attention to me was to say, “Dinner? Dinner?” when I’d slept through dinner being delivered. Silly little American needs to get fed, for sures.

Anyway, I made it to my station in Gaya and then did the 13 kms to Bodhgaya squished in an autorickshaw with three generations of an Indian family. I’m staying in a guesthouse run by the Tibetan monastery here. It’s really nice – cable and hot water, which have been rare commodities at guesthosues on this trip so far. More about Bodhgaya to follow…

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