Journey from Mumbai to Ahmedabad

Chaiiiiiiii, shouts a man with a large metal carafe perched on his shoulder walking towards our end of the train car. Chai, chai, masala chai, chaiiiiii, chai. We stop him for a cup each and sip the rich steaming brew as passengers slowly start to fill up the train seats. Two Muslim men in long white tunics and head caps sit across from me and tilt their heads in greeting, smiling warmly.

We are headed north to Udaipur City in Southern Rajasthan, a state bordering Pakistan, but at 1:30 pm we are just starting the first 9.5 hour daytime leg of our journey from Mumbai to Ahmedabad (pronounced Ahm-de-bahd). Our tickets are for a second class non-AC car, but I'm hoping an army of fans fixed to the ceiling and the open barred windows will keep us cool once the train starts moving. With the AC cars sold out, these seats were our next best option.

Several other Muslims take seats, as well as the usual crowd of Hindus with women in bright saris and men in western clothes. Hawkers walk up and down the train cars and on the platform selling chai, bottled water, snacks, sandwiches, and Indian lunches. A couple, young Euro-looking backpacker tourists, have seats across from me and I notice how much they stick out. They have deeply tanned skin and dark features, and I think they are maybe Israeli. The man has very short, graying hair with a handful of long dreads in the back... a sort of Rastafarian mullet? They could do yoga in their outfits, and based on my reading I'm sure the Indians around them wonder why they dress so sloppily. The woman is wearing expensive Ray-Ban glasses.

The train platform and car stinks of human waste and garbage, and when the train finally gets going a warm breeze from outside helps matters a bit, though we are still seated near the latrines (these turn out to be squat-style loos over what is basically a hole, and I'm pretty sure they dump directly onto the tracks). This train makes NJ Transit look like a luxury service, though the passengers are all solidly middle class.

At every stop between Mumbai and Ahmedabad more passengers pile on until every seat is filled and the aisles become overcrowded, NY-subway style. By the time we reach Vadodara there are still hours remaining and, since I have the pleasure of an aisle seat, men's crotches and butts are constantly being shoved into my face as hawkers and passengers push through the aisles and sqeeze the available space. Even when every possible square inch seems filled, somehow the chai men still sell cups of chai. They plunk down their carafes on the train floor, lean to tilt the spout and pour the drink, collect money and give change, and hoist the carafe back onto their shoulder all with a minimum of interruption or hassle. Beggar children come through with high lilting songs and homemade clackers as percussion, and transvestites (men dressed in gaudy women's clothing - think Lucky Chang's in NYC) also come to demand spare change.

Nine hours goes quickly when in good company. Seated tightly in groups of 12 (3 passeners per bench, 2 benches facing each other on both sides of the aisle), it's natural to chat with the other passengers and all the Indians are extremely friendly and eager to talk. Eventually Nick even gets the offish Euros chatting, when he picks up on their Spanish (turns out they are from Spain, not Israel), and they also warm to conversation.

The Indian man next to me speaks good English though, in Western terms, is a bit dorky. He could work in IT but is in insurance, lives in Ahmedabad, laughs easily, and has a good time telling us things about his region of India. He points out two holy rivers as we pass over them. A good Hindu, he's pleased to learn I've been vegetarian my whole life, poo-poos medicine, tobacco and alcohol and recommends a simple salt water tonic for Nick's sore throat. I've heard that Indians are very welcoming people and will often treat you like we would only a good friend in the U.S. By the time the train ride is complete, he's given us many recommendations of places to go and things to see in Gujarat and Rajasthan and has invited us to his home if we come back through Ahmedabad later on. We thank him and he disappears onto the train platform.

It's 11 pm and we are on a one hour plus layover in Ahmedabad. The Spanish couple is also headed to Udaipur on the next train, but are in a different car, so we wave goodbye for now and a, "see you on the other side." The next leg of our journey is in a sleeper car, leaving after midnight and arriving in Udaipur at 7:30 in the morning.

We locate our train car, dim as the onboard lights haven't been switched on yet, and prepare for an overnight adventure.