章 4: Reflections and transitition...
India had broken me on the first day, it was now shaking me up.
What was coming up would be so challenging that it would take months for me to be able to reflect properly on the Children's Charity Foundation – but such is their brightness, their hope and faith shone through.
The bus journey through the slums allowed time for reflection. Looking at individual people – the eye contact – meant even more now. Would they ever have the opportunity to achieve anything in their lives? Is survival winning? I don't know.
We said our goodbyes at the Metro station, but our timetable for coming back through Delhi on the way later meant a six hour stop. I asked Jothi if myself and a select group of students could come back and look at some of the other outreach work. We set it as a 'reward' to our students – those who embraced the culture fully would have the opportunity to return.
There were adventures on the packed Metro. A slight crush. Amused looks. A young boy offered me a seat, which my students found funny as it made me look old. Before I could respond an Indian businessman threw himself onto the seat. The young boy looked distressed at me, but I smiled and the others laughed. I appreciated the gesture and the boy was able to see that I was not upset.
It was the girls turn to miss a station so we waited, watching the masses of people coarse through as trains came and went.
It was a relief to return to Para Ganj – the sanctity of the hotel room, and seven channels of cricket, despite everything that I had witnessed.
The next day was a relocation day (as so many were to become). We would be packing up and heading south towards our second charity. Gilly had made many visits to the hotel reception waiting for the train tickets to arrive, with no luck so far.
This is how I think the system worked:
As international tourists there were a certain amount of tickets allocated for each train. You went on a list for these tickets. As time got nearer you then found out if you had your tickets. Then you would pay for the rights to pay for your tickets. Then you would pay to be able to pay for the tickets. Then you could pay and receive your tickets.
The tickets for us were probably allocated in the first place, but that would not allow for at least three middle-men to make some money out of us.
We went to the main hotel and calls were made. We went to the travel agent and more calls were made. Gilly was running the trip on a tight budget and I think all everyone wanted was their 'commission'. Her anxiety levels were rising, I would have loved to help, but I was not strong enough mentally. I think that normally I would have enjoyed the challenge, even risen to it. But I was not willing or able to take on a whole sub-continent!
Our last meal in Delhi was meant to be at our small café at the end of Paharganj. As most of the students had worked through all the safe elements of the menu, they had become bored. They also noticed the restaurants and hotels that looked over the bustling streets.
Gilly's first rule of the trip- safe food!
We had an eighteen hour train trip ahead of us, but for some reason she gave in. Maybe if I was stronger and could have taken the burden off her with other matters she wouldn't have allowed the students such a say.
It was good to have a change after such a demanding day. Night time on the street brought the same noise and colour, to an even more intense level. With the heat of the day lowering there was a renewed energy in a place that never really stopped.
We found a restaurant with a large balcony and the first cold beer went down smoothly.
Looking down on the streets there were lights strewn across the buildings. The religious festival of Diwali was a few weeks away, there was that pre-Christmas excitement in the air.
The menu was more varied and considering the day's experiences in the slums there was a good atmosphere. Sharing those experiences had helped us to bond as a group. Sitting with the boys helped me relax; David had become Fantaman due to his reliance on ordering Fanta whenever he could, Harry had become Harry the Hat as he always had a hat on. Little nicknames just kept the morale up. Gilly still had worries about the tickets, I should have done more.
Timings were now important. Back to the hotel, collect our bags, off to the station, catch the train. Simple.
We rounded up enough rikshaw riders and after intense negotiations on price we set off for the station. I felt sorry for the old man who had to take me and one of the girls with our combined luggage. he was struggling to turn the wheels and nobody would give way to him, every time he had some momentum he had to stop.
But he got us to the station. It was late evening and we were set for our next adventure. Or so I thought. The next adventure was going to be to navigate through the solid mass of humanity that was the station.
As I have said before, I live in West Dorset. Our main stations are Weymouth and Dorchester. They never get busy. Trains allow us to travel relatively stress free to London for shopping or cultural trips. Trains mean pleasant times.
The GT Express 12616 will remain as one of the worst 24 hours in my life.
The overnight train trip from Delhi to Sewagram.
In the retelling of the story the timings of that journey have ranged from 18 hours to 28 hours. I really don't know. I was dragged off the train in Sewagram in a physical condition that I have never experienced before or since.
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