Varanasi is one of the oldest cities in the world, and one of the seven holy cities in India. It is situated on the banks of the Ganges River. There in that river Hindus bathe, wash their clothes, swim, catch fish. Hindus believed that the river has the power to wash away their sins. Many Hindus dream of dying in Varanasi, they believe that if they died there they will get their moksha, their liberation from cycle of birth and rebirth… it means they will not be reincarnated anymore. I learned there that the notion of second or third life is not their desired destiny, “life is tough, who would want to live again” said Gopal, a resident of Varanasi, son of a Brahmin priest. It is a place where many Hindus dream to get their bodies cremated, and while majority of them died dreaming, many still made it.
Sigh
The trip onwards was not uneventful. Michael and I were still on the train’s wait list when the final chart was released. As we were already at the train station and this trip having been planned months ago, we decided to get on the train anyhow. Michael wrote about this in his blog too.
On the way to one of the holiest places in India, we encountered the unholiest people. First there was a man (or woman?) who tried to scam us by asking for advance payment for a hotel reservation. Then on the train, when we were already on board and apparently without confirmed ticket, the Train Conductor (TD) was very rude to us. When I showed the piece of paper in my possession (our e-ticket) he brusquely waved the paper in my face and snarled, ‘this is not a ticket’. Almost 2 years in India, 6 months in New Delhi, I have learned that it is futile to raise your voice when dealing with those in “power.” Their rudeness can instantly diminish your self-respect and could reduce you to a lesser mortal, at the same time make them feel supreme. Only, I did not allow him that. As he snarled at me I patiently endured and then calmly took my turn in explaining my predicament. I admitted to our own ineptness (not reading the note in the ticket that said the e-ticket is voided if we’re waitlisted, thus we should not get on board or pay the amount with penalty) and massaged his ego a bit. It worked. Although we still ended up paying for new ticket plus penalty and did not get our own berths, at least I was able to pacify him. Trust me, getting these people in ‘power’ to shut up and listen to you is a major feat already. That said, Michael and I were able to position ourselves peacefully inside the train… between the cars, him laying down on the floor, and me on a corner seat just outside a coach door. The train crew looked at us with sympathetic eyes, and in his pity he offered the one bunk reserved for the TD to us… for Rs500. And for my tiny seat, he wanted Rs100. Power he had over us, and power he wielded. We did not succumb.
When everyone was getting ready to sleep, I asked for blankets for me and Mike (remember that we have legit tickets now) but the same guy demanded Rs100. It was late, I was exhausted and unlike the issue with the TD this one was corruption, albeit at micro scale, and galled me. I cussed. I sat on my corner seat with my shawl and tried to sleep. Few minutes later, same guy woke me up and offered me a blanket. I refused, told him he couldn’t extract money from me. He offered it anyway, for free. I said thank you. I wore my sunglasses to shade my eyes from the fluorescent light kept on all night then dozed off but woke up every half an hour during the entire 12+ hour journey. At about dawn, one of the passengers who the night before was very nice to us, poked my sunglasses thinking I was asleep. I told him off, he was defensive, glared at me and cussed. At that point I felt like crying, how could these people be so cruel? I wish I could tell them, “I am a volunteer, I do not receive salary, I am trying to do something which you should be doing, helping your people.” I found myself suppressing my tears, I realized the enormity of problems in India. It isn’t just about poverty and marginalization, a lot of it has something to do with the way people treat people.
Our train reached Varanasi at 9:30 a.m.. I felt a feeling of relief and enthusiasm though still exhausted and sleepy. First thing I wanted was a nap. At the platform we were greeted by an man unknown to us who zealously guided as to the exit all the way to the pre-paid auto stand. To get to our hotel would cost as Rs70, this zealous man offered to take us to there for only Rs50. I’ve been in India long enough to know that this generous offer comes with a catch. The man wanted to take us to another hotel, cautioned us that our hotel could be fully booked. If we agreed, he’d get commission from his preferred hotel. We told him we had a reservation in Hotel Haifa. He glared at us and walked away. We went back to the original plan of taking pre-paid auto.
Sigh
The trip onwards was not uneventful. Michael and I were still on the train’s wait list when the final chart was released. As we were already at the train station and this trip having been planned months ago, we decided to get on the train anyhow. Michael wrote about this in his blog too.
On the way to one of the holiest places in India, we encountered the unholiest people. First there was a man (or woman?) who tried to scam us by asking for advance payment for a hotel reservation. Then on the train, when we were already on board and apparently without confirmed ticket, the Train Conductor (TD) was very rude to us. When I showed the piece of paper in my possession (our e-ticket) he brusquely waved the paper in my face and snarled, ‘this is not a ticket’. Almost 2 years in India, 6 months in New Delhi, I have learned that it is futile to raise your voice when dealing with those in “power.” Their rudeness can instantly diminish your self-respect and could reduce you to a lesser mortal, at the same time make them feel supreme. Only, I did not allow him that. As he snarled at me I patiently endured and then calmly took my turn in explaining my predicament. I admitted to our own ineptness (not reading the note in the ticket that said the e-ticket is voided if we’re waitlisted, thus we should not get on board or pay the amount with penalty) and massaged his ego a bit. It worked. Although we still ended up paying for new ticket plus penalty and did not get our own berths, at least I was able to pacify him. Trust me, getting these people in ‘power’ to shut up and listen to you is a major feat already. That said, Michael and I were able to position ourselves peacefully inside the train… between the cars, him laying down on the floor, and me on a corner seat just outside a coach door. The train crew looked at us with sympathetic eyes, and in his pity he offered the one bunk reserved for the TD to us… for Rs500. And for my tiny seat, he wanted Rs100. Power he had over us, and power he wielded. We did not succumb.
When everyone was getting ready to sleep, I asked for blankets for me and Mike (remember that we have legit tickets now) but the same guy demanded Rs100. It was late, I was exhausted and unlike the issue with the TD this one was corruption, albeit at micro scale, and galled me. I cussed. I sat on my corner seat with my shawl and tried to sleep. Few minutes later, same guy woke me up and offered me a blanket. I refused, told him he couldn’t extract money from me. He offered it anyway, for free. I said thank you. I wore my sunglasses to shade my eyes from the fluorescent light kept on all night then dozed off but woke up every half an hour during the entire 12+ hour journey. At about dawn, one of the passengers who the night before was very nice to us, poked my sunglasses thinking I was asleep. I told him off, he was defensive, glared at me and cussed. At that point I felt like crying, how could these people be so cruel? I wish I could tell them, “I am a volunteer, I do not receive salary, I am trying to do something which you should be doing, helping your people.” I found myself suppressing my tears, I realized the enormity of problems in India. It isn’t just about poverty and marginalization, a lot of it has something to do with the way people treat people.
Our train reached Varanasi at 9:30 a.m.. I felt a feeling of relief and enthusiasm though still exhausted and sleepy. First thing I wanted was a nap. At the platform we were greeted by an man unknown to us who zealously guided as to the exit all the way to the pre-paid auto stand. To get to our hotel would cost as Rs70, this zealous man offered to take us to there for only Rs50. I’ve been in India long enough to know that this generous offer comes with a catch. The man wanted to take us to another hotel, cautioned us that our hotel could be fully booked. If we agreed, he’d get commission from his preferred hotel. We told him we had a reservation in Hotel Haifa. He glared at us and walked away. We went back to the original plan of taking pre-paid auto.
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