Ria, are you ok?

Chapter 4

16 - Peter

Before leaving Chicago I got my Pakistani visa just in case. That way I wouldn't need to go to Dehli and risk getting refused. I also read online that Pakistan has borders with China that are opened during the warmer months of the year. That sounds like an interesting route, India, Pakistan, China and then who knows, Mongolia sounds exciting as well. Mon-go-lia - that word has a really nice ring to it. I wish I could use it more often, to the point where I would go there only to be able to tell people, in the future, that I had been there, and can listen to the sound the word makes when spoken out loud.

The trip to India was initially supposed to be an exploration of the southern provinces of Kerala, Tamil Nadu and maybe Sri Lanka, but after reading Shantaram for the second time, I felt a strong urge to visit Mumbai. So Mumbai it is. Mumbai it has to be. Mumbai it will be.

After arriving in New Delhi I would need to spend a few days on the train to get to Mumbai. I've read so much about Indian trains that there will probably be no surprises. All that there's left to do is to experience the train journey first hand.

The day before my flight, I called my parents one last time to say goodbye and packed my belongings for the trip. My apartment belongs to them, actually, so there's no need to find a tenant or someone to house-sit while I'm abroad, and they will be coming over every couple of weeks for as long as I'm away to make sure everything's alright. That's how lucky I am. This used to be their house but after they retired, they decided to move to Milwaukee to live a quieter life there, and at the same time, be close to Chicago in case they need anything.

The flight was packed and I was one of the few foreigners on it. I transferred flights in Amsterdam and before I knew it, landed in the famous city of New Dehli.

From the airport, I took a taxi to the train station and bought a ticket on the next train to Mumbai. The taxi ride was everything I expected and more. The sounds, the food, the smells, oh, the smells. It's not for nothing they call it Smelly Dehli.

The train ride was an overload on the senses. Exactly what I needed after such a long time living in the city. I love Chicago, but everything there seems to follow its own natural rhythm and order, as opposed to India where random things happen sporadically all the time.

While I was on the train I saw rats crawling under the seats eating the leftovers past passengers had dropped. I saw dogs, chickens and goats being dragged, carried or walking into the carriages casually. I saw babies crying, people fighting and laughing, playing cards, singing songs, eating all kinds of food and spitting onto the ground. It was beautiful.

They were gargling and spitting all sorts of stuff, from phlegm to sunflower seeds, to chicken bones to some strange red seeds. Every time they spat, the sound resonated throughout the train. Back home that was considered rude but here the floor was the recipient of all sorts of disgusting things. It was all littered and covered in spit, and with whatever the red stuff they chewed was. It was awesome, and it was terrible, I couldn't make up my mind, but could have possibly been both at the same time. It was exactly what I had come to India for. It was all part of the experience. Everything around me was outstandingly vivid. I opened my eyes and took it all in. Oh, what a great time to be alive.

Some of the passengers had their faces painted, wearing colorful clothes and staring at me. I loved it. I had never been stared at before, so all of a sudden, from one day to the other I had become unique and special - why not even call me magical? As far as they are concerned I may actually have been blessed with some magical powers at birth to accompany my pale white skin, awkward height and tacky clothes.

From the train window, I saw monkeys, pigs, cows and even more cows. I saw people sleeping on the streets, kids playing all kinds of games. I witnessed some sort of festival where everyone was singing and dancing merrily. Every time the train stopped, vendors rushed in and sold all kinds of refreshments. I tried every food and drink they offered. Some were nice and some were terrible, but they were all part of the experience.