出会った： チェンナイからデリーへの電車で

Train from Chennai to Delhi. 36 hours. Fortunately we left at 7:15pm which meant two sleeps on the train. For practical reasons, I hate traveling during the day. At night, especially in India, especially as a woman, there is not much you can do outside anyways, so time spent traveling on a train, is not time wasted. Though traveling at night in most places can be more dangerous, this isn't so much of a concern with the train. It's pretty noisy, to be fair and can be hot. . .but it's great for catching up on reading, thinking, listening to music, chatting with friends you're traveling with, and meeting locals. . .because when you're sitting with people for 36 hours in India, curiosity WILL get the better of them.
After the first couple of stops, a man comes into the train and takes his seat in the lower berth across from our three. He chains his luggage under the seat (which myself and my 2 traveling companions from Manipur) haven't deemed necessary) and tries to make himself comfortable. He asks us where we're from. I tell him I'm from Canada but it takes a few repetitions to convey the message. He asks where my friends are from and I say Manipur. He doesn't seem to understand that they are also Indians, since they look quite different than North or even South Indians. In fact, I'm somewhat interested to see how this knowledge will be taken. On the train towards Chennai from Delhi the conductor (? The guy who goes through the train and checks the tickets) was quite blatantly rude to the 3 of us. We had a ticket and had been on the waiting list for confirmed seats earlier that day and before the train 2 of our seats had been confirmed which should have meant we were waiting for one more seat to come free. It's probable that we actually had 3 confirmed seats by the time the train left, however, a huge group of people got on the train at Delhi without confirmed seats (not an uncommon phenomenon)and we ended up with even less than 2 seats/berths between the 3 of us. When we tried to ask the conductor if we had a 3rd seat confirmed he replied rudely that there was "no chance for an extra seat". My friend tried to ask him when it might change (since most people would probably be getting off before Chennai). He said it wouldn't (Later on a different conductor came around and was more than able to find us a seat, even 3 seats together!). My friends were quite upset by the behaviour of this man. They kept referring to North Indians being "like this" because Manipuri people look different, they always treat them badly. I know that their feelings likely come from multiple experiences with this kind of treatment, and racism is always hurtful and should not be tolerated, but I still tried to say that certainly not all North Indians are like that and maybe this guy just had some bad curry today. . .or his child decided to be an artist instead of an engineer. . .or perhaps he has 7 daughters and can't afford to pay all of their dowries so he has to put other people down to make himself feel better. . .I wanted to go talk to him. My friends wouldn't let me.
Anyway, back to the journey back from Chennai. My friend starts trying to explain, "Manipur" and finally switches to Hindi to make himself better understood. He seems embarrassed and claims his Hindi is bad, but it's much better than mine, anyway. Besides, if you can already speak 3 languages fluently, you could be forgiven for some difficulty speaking your fourth. The man tells us he is from Agra but is going to Jaipur to see his daughter who is studying accounting at college there. The man seems satisfied for the time being knowing where we are from and soon after we all climbed into our respective berths to sleep.
The next day, on the way back from the bathroom I was accosted by another man who asked if he could talk to me for a few minutes. I found his formalities somewhat funny. He asked: "Where are you from?", "What are you doing in India", "How do you like India", commented on my answer saying that "even if you didn't like India, of course you would say that you liked it", "What do your parents do?", "What is your religion?". . .then he proceeded to try to convert me to Christianity by telling me about how he used to be a Hindu but realized that it was far better to put your faith in Christ. . . .*sigh*. I said that I thought it was important to love everyone and treat everyone how you would want to be treated (like in Christianity! he replied! Yes. and in Buddhism and Islam and Hinduism. . .etc) and that often times religions teach this rule, but at the same time teach that other religions are wrong or bad and cause hate between each other. . .which doesn't make sense to me. He didn't buy it. . .Eventually i got out of the conversation and headed back to my seat.
This had given the other man sitting across from us enough time to work up the courage to practice his English by asking me more questions. He asked similarly what I was doing in India, how many brothers and sisters I had, why I was in India? He asked me if I didn't love my parents. I said, of course I love my parents. He asked me why I would come to India when my parents are in Canada and why I would travel so much without thinking about staying close to them. He said that in India the sons always stay close to home. Parents take care of their children until they get married, they pay for everything until then. He was shocked that I paid for post secondary school by myself and that I was doing everything by myself. He said that in India families live together and usually the son brings his wife to live together with his parents to help take care of them. Daughters stay at home until they get married and then stay with their husband's family. He decided that it was just a difference in culture. I figured that there were also some other factors, namely that the younger generations tend to be moving out of their family homes and away to cities or foreign countries where there are more opportunities (for lots of reasons that I won't get into here)and leaving their families behind. I commented that families didn't used to separate as much in western countries either but it's been the trend for a number of years. He felt that I must be very smart, and broadminded from traveling so much. I felt that living in a smaller community and learning a more communal way of living wouldn't necessarily make you any less smart and could provide equally important, but certainly different experiences. . .
He asked me to talk to his daughter on the phone since he was so impressed that I was self-dependent. I talked to her for a few minutes, but it was of course, awkward since we don't know each other and difficult to hear because of the train. But in the end I really enjoyed the conversation I had with this man on the train.
Parental concern and love for their children is, I think, universal, though it sometimes shows itself in different ways, there is usually at least an element of awkward or "special"-ness in the ways parents show their love. Having children get in touch with random contacts of their parents' who they think can guide them and give them assistance (or possibly dissuade them from doing something their parents are afraid of them doing) is something my parents have done too. . .so I understand the awkwardness that his daughter was probably feeling. . .but at the same time, it was quite cute and endearing.
When we arrived in Agra, it was sad to see him go.

29 (+10) hour train ride later. . .

I’m in Assam.

The Chicken Neck

My first observation upon arrival was how similar the climate is to Kerala and Karnataka (both in South India). . .and also how much the Brahmaputra river in Guwahati reminded me of the lakeside of Pokhara (Nepal).


But let’s rewind a little first.

In Delhi, I had a lot of time to wander around Phar Ganj between my plane and train journeys. Phar Ganj is just outside of New Delhi station and generally considered to be the backpacker hub. I managed to get a cell phone, chai, a Hindi phrase book and some time on the internet. I also managed to get scammed by a lady who took me on a walk to buy her food after complimenting me on my earrings.
Even though I knew it was a scam, I followed her. She told me a story of how she had 6 babies and lived very far outside of the city and just needed some food. She didn’t like money. She had a small girl with her who put on a wide grin whenever I looked at her. She led me to a stall that sold dry food; flour, daal, spices and oil and instructed the man to load up plastic bags full of each. The total was 300 rupees (approximately $6). I told her I had never agreed to buy it for her but she just ignored my protest and bartered the price down to give the illusion that she was helping me. I kept looking to the small girl who, upon realizing I was looking at her, would immediately turn on her smile. For some reason I still don't understand, I gave in and paid.

Once the lady had procured her goods she shooed me off to ensure that I didn’t follow her “home”. A few minutes later I saw her again, following another foreigner down the street. . . .

I always find it hard in the heat of the moment to turn away from people in need, in this case, even when it's so obviously a lie. I should have just walked away from the start, but it’s hard when you’re being addressed so directly and in a friendly manner. I want to expect the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt, be generous (really what difference does $6 make to me?). But then I remember a lesson I learned on the PEPY Ride and a post by Daniela (PEPY’s founder)in her wonderful blog. . .Every dollar you spend is like a vote. If you simply give money to people who are running scams or beggars or poor people, you are voting for more of the same. It’s harsh, but it’s also true. Simply giving money is not sustainable and doesn’t improve the situation, it just sends the message that foreigners (or more broadly, someone else) have money and can be sought out as a means of income instead of creating a better alternative.

I’m sure that the lady that talked to me took the food somewhere to sell it at a lesser value to get money and/or the shop she bought it from was also involved . . .in any case, there’s often a network of people that are supported by this kind of system. They’re everywhere in India, and other countries too. Anywhere there are tourists or money, really. But, what to do? It already happened. I’ll try to avoid this kind of situation next time. But it’s still hard to ignore someone who says they need something that you could easily provide. You’re tempted to think: it’s not necessarily always the case that there is a whole system in place behind them. . .maybe they really do just need some food right now. . .
Any good solutions out there?

The train was 2 hours and 45 minutes late arriving to Delhi. An 11:45pm departure turned into a 2:30am departure. I was getting tired so I went to the ladies waiting room and fell asleep on the metal chairs for a while. Finally the train came. My berth was with a family of 4, Mother, Father and 2 small children and another guy, close to my age. A couple minutes after the train left the station, we put the sleeping berths into position and were ready for bed. It had been an extremely long day and I fell asleep in seconds.

Brahmaputra River

 I awoke to a chai wallah. Best morning wake-up call ever! Then the question period began. It turned out the the family was from Assam and the other younger guy was from Shillong and spoke English very well. He acted as a translator for everyone else who wanted to ask me questions.
"You’re going to Guwahati?By yourself?!Why!?Isn’t this train boring?How old are you?How many brothers and sisters do you have?Are you married?Where are your parents?What do your parents do?" Etc.
The people I was sitting with were all very nice and friendly, I wish I could speak more Hindi already.

The guy from Shillong was named Nicky. He was in Delhi applying for a visa to go to the UK. He was tired and bored of India. He offered to show me around Shillong if I had time to go. Eventually he asked what exactly I was planning to do in Assam and after, in India. I showed him the itinerary of the study circle and found out some interesting things.

Pan vendor

Akhil Gogoi, leader of the Krishak Mukti Sangram Samiti (KMSS), was scheduled to be talking to us today with one of his colleagues. When Nicky saw his name on the paper he seemed surprised then informed me that he had been arrested just last week.

Before coming to India I was contacted by one of the organizer’s contacts in Canada who told me of a 30 000 person protest that had occurred in the North East just a few days before my departure. I’ve since found out, the protest was in response to a land dispute where a slum had been erected. There was a peasant uprising that resulted in police firing into the crowd of unarmed protesters, killing 3 people (one a 9 year old boy) and arresting Akhil. . .unfortunately he won’t be able to make our seminar. His arrest prompted the shutting down of most of Guwahati, tea stalls and everything, in solidarity.
He’s a very popular guy.

Sunset on the Brahmaputra

A few hours later, Nicky released some frustration: “You can’t change anything. Anyone who tries to change anything is in jail or dead. Just enjoy the scenery and then go home. India is corrupt and crooked, no one can do anything to fix it.”

I didn’t argue. That I can’t change anything is probably true. That no one can do anything, I don’t believe. Certainly, it’s dangerous and difficult. Much easier to turn away and not let these issues concern you or go to another country (like I am currently doing too!) and pretend that the same or at least, similar issues, don’t exist there. . .you feel much less responsibility to do something about them if you don't know about them.

Instances of injustice are not separate, in my opinion. Injustice to one person, any person is an injustice to me as well. If there is a violation to any person’s basic human rights, it is a violation to my rights. If we give permission, even through idleness, for the disregard of one person's rights, we give permission for the same disregard of our own rights as a potential consequence.

It is naive to think the same violations cannot occur, under different circumstances, to anyone. If we let human rights abuses continue unchecked, I fear that they will. I feel that The Universal Declaration of Human Rights is almost taken as a joke to many corporations, businesses and developers. Only the rights of those with money or power matter. . .and only in so far as their right to acquire more money and power. Anyway, I guess I should move on to the rest of the trip. . .and stop ranting.

Finally I arrived in Guwahati. The train took an extra 10 hours to arrive than was scheduled and I missed a very interesting day regarding the big push for hydroelectric power and giant dams in North East India (they’re planning to build dams to produce a total of 70 000MW in the North East) and their environmental impacts. I haven’t been fully briefed on everything that I missed but I will try to make a post about it soon.

Coming back from Nalbari

I ate dinner with Simon, who first introduced me to the Study and Research circle, 2 other Canadian ladies, one who just finished her undergrad and one doing her PhD. and 3 other attendees of the seminar, one of the most prolific Marxist Leninist writers in the country (apparently) from South India, a professor from a university in Delhi and another student from the south. 2 others left yesterday, one was closely affiliated with Akhil Gogoi and has been getting a lot of media attention since the arrest. He had to return to Delhi but hopefully I will get to meet him sometime in the future. The other went to a different city for a memorial of a friend of his that was killed when he uncovered too much information about corruption (I don’t really know the full details, sorry.). We are currently waiting on him to arrive so we can start today’s seminar. . .

Brahmaputra sunset