Welcome to the Doon Express listening room
Bodhgaya continued its lessons in acceptance when I was feeling a little nervous to walk to the travel agent’s to get my seating assignment confirmed last night…and halfway there, the power went out, so I was stranded in the dark, unable to see my way forward or back. Generator backup lighting eventually came on – luckily before I had a heart attack – so with that and candlelight from the small vendors I was able to find my way and the agent called to confirm my reservation and get my seating assignment.
Then when I got on the Doon Express to Varanasi this morning – the 5:15am train, might I add – my name wasn’t on the list posted on the coach to which I had been assigned and someone was in the seat. Since the TT (took me forever to figure out they were talking about the ‘ticket taker’) was “no available” – head wiggle, head wiggle – pretty much every single person on the entire coach took a look at my ticket and had long discussions in Hindi about what should be done. Finally, they just pointed me to an empty seat, spoke at me in Hindi and wiggled their heads. I wiggled my head and sat down, and everyone was satisfied. Some time passed before they all started gabbling about TT and pointing, so I followed the man who had just passed, and told him my predicament. Much discussion, inspecting of ticket and shuffling through passenger lists ensued, until a conclusion was reached: my seat had not been confirmed.
Now, this might have bothered me like, a week ago, but since I’m all India philosophical rad now, I just accepted it. The TT assigned me to an empty space a couple of coaches down, which turned out to be a top bunk sleeper so close to the ceiling I couldn’t even sit up, in another non-AC coach.
Oh wait, have I mentioned that I’m in the middle of a heat wave significant enough to make it onto CNN…in summer…in India? Yeah. Let’s just say that by 6am it was hotter than it’s ever been in San Francisco.
I spent the next six hours taking advantage of my newly resurrected ipod, to find the perfect soundtrack to a hot, crowded Indian train. Here are my findings:
* Justin Timberlake, Justified – Totally groove irresistible and therefore not advised unless you are fully committed to turning your trip into a Bollywood film. Which would be so amazing and if you actually did that I would be your best friend forever and ever.
* Wire, On Returning – A solid choice. I’ve rarely been so pleased as when Strange came on. “There’s something going on that’s not quite right,” indeed.
* The Postal Service, Give Up – The combination of calming and engaging makes this album a fine soundtrack, plus the rainy day romanticism lends itself well to gazing out a train window (assuming you’re not squished up in the top bunk of a non-AC sleeper coach, that is).
* Public Image Ltd, The Greatest Hits, So Far – Way, way too aggro. By the time This Is Not A Love Song came on, I was hyper aware of the heat and smells and how much I suddenly hated everyone around me.
* Paul Williams, Songs For The Family Of Man – This instantly took the edge off my PIL anxiety. Plus, the ridiculous juxtaposition of 70s AM hits and Indian trains is too great to miss.
* Neil Young, Harvest – Soothing and lends itself well to super hot weather. However, even though I love this album, it didn’t work out so well because it made me feel like I was just in a really bizarro Los Angeles. That freaked me out.
And the winner of the contest for Very Best Album To Listen To While Riding The Rails In India is…. Paul Williams!!!
Tags: Bodhgaya
sandyo
I dated an Indian guy last year who demonstrated that head wiggle. It’s harder than it sounds.
And yet once you’ve been here for a week or two, it becomes totally involuntary. I couldn’t believe it the first time it happened. Me to Mary: Ummm did I just wiggle my head? That’s weird.