The Big Silver Ribbons

K,

 

I'm up at 07:00 and go down to the breakfast buffet that's included with the room.  It's all nasty looking food in puddles, so I get about four spoonfuls of dahl and ask for four slices of toast (they're about 4" x 4").  I haven't been eating much at all, and the pounds are starting to shed, but I'm also getting a slight dent in a couple of my fingernails -- this can be an iron deficiency.  So I'm trying to eat a little of something.

 

I go back to my room, and at ten minutes to 09:00 there's a knock at my door.  It's the non-English speaking ticket guy.  Second class, two-tier, AC sleeper.  Today.  The train leaves at noon.  Perfect.

 

It's a journey of a little under 1,000 miles.  Tickets are RS1600.  The service fee is RS200, I tip the guy another RS100.  We're all going to have a good day.

 

I pack and leave, stopping at the storefront across the street.  I buy a bag of nuts, two cokes, a bag of potato chips, three large bottles of water and a pair of fingernail clippers.  The store clerk likes me and throws in a bag of crackers.

 

I get to the station about 45 minutes early and am there not five minutes when the tourism guy runs up to me.

 

"Did you see tigers?"

 

"Oh yes." 

 

He seems even happier than I am about it.

 

"You are leaving today."

 

"Yes, I am ..."

 

"You are in berth number 35."  That's right, he's already checked out where I am and has been waiting to make sure I make the train.

 

"How do I know what train it is?"
 

"What!  It's that one!  On the track right now!"

 

I bid farewell, find my coach, and get on.  I've ridden this class and style before.  They're bunk beds (two-high in this case) where you ride in seats during the day and make them down to beds at night.  The seats have loops under them that you lock your luggage to.  The seating is a little rough during the day -- the seat backs a little too straight up-and-down -- but it's a really good ride at night.

 

The compartments all have nylon curtains that slightly offset the entire-light-blue color scheme of the carriage.  I think one of the differences between this and third class is the presence of the curtains and everyone makes it a point to close theirs. 

 

I've been given a side seat that runs down the aisle of the car -- I would be facing another passenger if that seat was sold, but no one is there.  Closing the drape seems too claustrophobic, so I leave it open.

 

At noon on the dot, the J.-V. Express heads out.  I've got a 22 hour ride and I'm looking forward to it.  Aside from a blimp, train is my favorite way to travel and when you're on a train you can just completely "let go."  You know you're going somewhere, so that's taken care of, and there's nothing else you can do.  Maybe post-sex is the only time I'm more relaxed than I am on a train.

 

I don't read, I don't listen to my iPod, I just sit and watch In. spin past outside. 

 

Desert.  A few plants.  People, people, always people, of course.  Lots of laborers doing tasks here and there.  In all my experiences in the third world, nearly all the manual labor is done by women.  Only the real heavy stuff, like rolling a 6' diameter conduit, is done by men -- women do everything else.  I'm not sure what the hell the men do.  Sit around and talk about how hard life is, I guess.

 

The day flows into night and about 19:00 I set up my bed, only to have my bench mate show up at the very next stop.  I apologize and break the bed down, but he's already talked to the coachman and arranged something else. 

 

I sit my bed up again and the coachman comes by. 

 

"35," he says and I hand him RS35, he gives me bed sheets.  It's not until about an hour later that I realize he was reciting my berth number -- the sheets are included in the ticket.  Oh well, there goes 90 cents.

 

I change into my track suit and decide to put my money and passport in my luggage.  It's not ideal, but it's better than having it "unguarded" in my berth.  It's locked anyway, it'll be fine.

 

Even without earplugs, I fall quickly to sleep,

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