Words can't describe what a Friday evening north bound train ride can feel like, nor could a picture if you're able to reach for your camera.
"Don't stand there sir unless you're about to get off!"
The last thing I heard before the onslaught of bodies swarmed and invaded every cubic inch of available space in the train cart. Every time my lungs sunk in for a breath, someone's arm or shoulder would replace the space where my belly once was.
After stating my terminus station to the fellow across the cart, I was directed with the help of him and a small team of locals to a miniscule patch of real estate in the very back. They took my belongings, crowd-surfed it towards the storage rack, and then began to do the usual thing that the Indian people do so well. Smile using every muscle in their face, ask personal questions about where you're from and why you're here, and basically just be the most considerate and friendliest person they can be.
Through out my close quartered conversation with an older fellow named 'Shiva', I told him how surprised I was at how everyone is getting along so well when considering the borderline violence that occurs at each stop. He told me he rarely ever sees people get aggravated, it's just an everyday thing for them. Sometimes card games are played with both arms stretched into the air, sometimes entire train carts start singing at the top of their lungs; 70 plus men singing in unison to a popular Hindi song.
I didn't witness the card games but I did see the latter on a passing train the previous day. It gave me one of those tingly feelings through out my body and reminded me why I travel. To experience how different cultures adapt to everyday adversity, and to hopefully take a bit of that "such is life" attitude home with me.
I think I'm starting to like this place:)
"Don't stand there sir unless you're about to get off!"
The last thing I heard before the onslaught of bodies swarmed and invaded every cubic inch of available space in the train cart. Every time my lungs sunk in for a breath, someone's arm or shoulder would replace the space where my belly once was.
After stating my terminus station to the fellow across the cart, I was directed with the help of him and a small team of locals to a miniscule patch of real estate in the very back. They took my belongings, crowd-surfed it towards the storage rack, and then began to do the usual thing that the Indian people do so well. Smile using every muscle in their face, ask personal questions about where you're from and why you're here, and basically just be the most considerate and friendliest person they can be.
Through out my close quartered conversation with an older fellow named 'Shiva', I told him how surprised I was at how everyone is getting along so well when considering the borderline violence that occurs at each stop. He told me he rarely ever sees people get aggravated, it's just an everyday thing for them. Sometimes card games are played with both arms stretched into the air, sometimes entire train carts start singing at the top of their lungs; 70 plus men singing in unison to a popular Hindi song.
I didn't witness the card games but I did see the latter on a passing train the previous day. It gave me one of those tingly feelings through out my body and reminded me why I travel. To experience how different cultures adapt to everyday adversity, and to hopefully take a bit of that "such is life" attitude home with me.
I think I'm starting to like this place:)
Super bonitas las fotos!
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