Girls Only

Late on Thursday night, I walked with a friend up to the junction in Aranmula, where I lived at the cultural centre, to depart for (what I expect to be) the last time this trip. As we crossed the street, we were blinded by the headlights of what turned out to be a bus to Chengannur, where the train station is. I had been told the buses stopped running almost two hours earlier and planned to take a rickshaw. The bus flew by without stopping, so I had to take a rickshaw anyway (at about 15 times what the bus would have cost). But I was excited-- as we arrived in Chengannur, I could see that Oven Fresh was lit up and full of people. I had just discovered Oven Fresh the day before and didn't expect to eat there again, since I was leaving. The first time there, I had the best fresh squeezed carrot-apple juice and the most delicious samosas I've ever had in my life. I had told the driver I was going to the railway station, but I tapped him on the shoulder and got him to pull over (it's just a block or two away). They were out of samosas and apples, but the carrot juice was a perfect pre-train treat.

The train station was jammed full of Sabarimala pilgrims on their way home from Ayyappa's temple. They have turned out to be one of my favorite parts of India. I should write a proper post about it sometime. Even better, I have to find a way to post music. I bought a CD of Ayyappa devotional songs. That music is the best representation of my experience of India.

I slept for eight hours on the train. I was in 3AC because Sleeper class was full when I bought my tickets. The cars are exactly the same configuration, but 3AC has air conditioning (which is unnecessary and I don't like it) and the windows have awful tinting on them so you can hardly see out. As usual, I spent most of the morning sitting at the end of the car, where the door is, looking out as we speed by India. The Konkan Railway is supposed to be one of the most scenic in India. I believe it.

I changed trains in Mangalore. I had a few hours, so I checked my bag at the cloak room and went for a walk. I found a temple to Sree Muthappan, who I don't really know much about, but with the synchronous way things seem to be going lately, I'm sure I'll find out more soon. They gave me the best prasad (prasad is food that has been offered to a god or a guru; because it has been offered, it is now blessed and given as a gift to devotees). It was like trail mix: shaved coconut, some sort of puffed grain, grapes, raisins, banana slices, and chunks of rock sugar (I didn't eat that part).

Back at the train station, I was trying to sort out which cars were unreserved on my train (for short daytime rides you can buy an unreserved ticket the day of travel-- great because you don't have to plan ahead but tricky because you may have to scrap for a seat). Earlier I had asked a few questions at the station information desk and befriended the old guys working there. They were quite impressed with my churidar (my Indian clothing) and my height. "How tall you are? 180? Must be 180?" They of course use centimeters here. I told I thought I was about 177, definitely 5'9". One of the guys said, "I am 5'9", but you are taller than me. You have to duck at the window!" (I was talking to them through a plexiglass window.) They were also quite pleased that I was a teacher-- and a Mathematics teacher at that. That always goes over well here in India. They truly value education. (As always, that could/should be a whole post of its own.) So anyway, I'm trying to find an unreserved car, when I hear someone chuckling, "Mathematics teacher." It's one of the men from the information desk. I ask him which car I should get on and he says, "Here I show you. You want good travel companion?" "Of course!" I laugh. He escorts me to the very end of the train, to the women's only carriage. I had heard there were women only cars on trains, but I hadn't been on one yet. It's at the very end of the train, and the door between the cars is blocked so no one can get in or out of the car except at stations. There he introduced me to two other travelers, a woman from London and her four year old daughter. They were headed to the same station I was, and we had a very pleasant trip together.

I am in Gokarna now. More on the town later. I had a great breakfast; possibly the best sambar I've had yet (with a vegetable called "dendli" in it. That's the Hindi name; I need to find out the English name). I complimented the sambar so profusely, the owner brought me more. Then I got him to give me a Hindi lesson. Important questions like, "Who is the god of this temple?" and "May I enter this temple?"

If you haven't already, be sure to check out my last post and the fantastic pictures Martin posted. Also, take the time to read his comments on them. Good explanations, and most (but not quite all) of it is exactly what I would have said anyway....