Highway to Hell...

The horn screamed, 4am fever, Nepalese music blasting. Just sleeping was an enlightening experience, the noise hurled me awake into jerk reality like limp being torn from a joint. Rivets clicking and clanking, brakes screeching, arms being crushed into rickety armrests, up, down, up, down and so it went on and on, the saga of the non existent road, an endless wild ride. I looked down and life flashed before my eyes, I almost forgot about the gapping rusted hole in the floor board, wheel just below spinning like mad and tons of gravel belting by just waiting to consume clumsy feet. I gasp for air violently awoken from a blissful intoxicating sleep induced by the monotony of diesel engine rhythm. My lungs filled with white smoke filtering in from the cracked windows and holes in the floor, Shiva must of went to war with that rickety old bus. My eyes still blurred from sleep slowly come into focus, the shock of reality! Cat Stevens is in my head singing, "tell me where do the children play?". Now awake I realize it's 5am, the sun is barley coming up and that cloud of smoke that is embedded in my lungs like a blood sucking tick committing me to sing chorus after chorus of coughs is burning trash. A viole stench of charred plastic bags and human waste fills the air. The horn blazes again, my body is pulled this way and that in unnatural contorted positions, stomach in a seaman's knot as I scan out the window into the morning haze. The semi focused images look like a war zone, buildings falling to pieces, fire in the streets, animals roaming curiously searching the heaps of flames for scarps of food. Suddenly it all becomes clear as if awaken from a 36 hour nightmare, we have finally arrived... the bus comes to a screeching halt and an almost incomprehensible voice belows, "DELHI, LAST STOP."

India Indeed. Indeed India

India. They say you either love it or you hate it. There's no in between. It's a country of extremes; there's no room for gray zones.

I was scared to travel there, even after traveling for 8 months through some pretty rough countries, I still wasn't so sure about it. But I had plenty of time to mentally prepare myself. We had a 2 day delay in Kathmandu due to strikes that shut down the city. And then we had a 36 hour bus ride to Delhi. Yes. 36 HOURS. On a local bus that was so old that the floor was rusted out so badly that you could see the road racing below your feet. (Step gingerly!) In such disrepair that the seats were no longer bolted in place, so our necks were sore with whiplash. And the seat cushions were so worn down that our butts went numb after the 1st hour (only 35 more to go!)

But India. Definitely the most disgusting place I have ever been: The streets are filled with street cows and stray dogs whose main dietary sustenance comes from the overflowing trash heaps, which then roughly travels through their digestive tracks only to be released again on the narrow streets where people walk, sleep and sell vegetables. But! it is also filled with some of the most beautiful palaces and forts in the world, with intricate wood carvings, glass inlays and marble sculptures. Really incredible sites!

India is just a country of opposites. There seem to be no road laws. People will regularly drive up the wrong side of the road, playing chicken with the oncoming traffic and swerving away just in the nick of time. And we had a taxi driver once who was 20 years old and had been driving cabs without a license for over 9 years (do the math). But, when you break a simple rule - like say, slipping through the turn-style in a metro station - they threaten you with guns and jail time. Let me elaborate...

Michael and I were running off to the airport. We bought our 9 Rupee (about 10 cents) token to ride the Metro, and then proceeded to the turn-style. However, when Michael tapped his token to the machine, it failed to open. So he returned to the line to request a new token. He brought his new token to the turn-style and again X! It wouldn't open! He tried 2 more times with 2 more tokens and X! X! The darn thing wouldn't work! After these 4 tries - turn-style, back to line to get knew token, turn-style again, etc. He'd had enough! So when the next person walked through the turn-style, Michael just slid in behind him (it's good to be thin). He took about 10 steps and looked up to see 3 armed men with automatic weapons running at him! They surrounded him and grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off to the security office! Seriously. In the office The Man in Charge says to Michael incredulously, "Why would you do that?!" Michael was flabbergasted (that's a fun word). I mean really. Michael tried to explain the situation, showed the Man in Charge the token he had legitimately bought - the re-issued token that the Man in Charge had even given him! But the Man in Charge still proceeded to scold Michael on the rules of the rail. "There are no excuses. Everyone must use a token to enter the turn-styles no matter how long it takes to get one that works yada yada yada..." The Man in Charge offered Michael a choice: either pay a fine of 200 Rupees (about $4) or spend the night in jail! All the while, I was standing outside the office watching this all happen, completely flabbergasted (I just wanted to use the word one more time). I was ready to refute the charges, but Michael, being on the wrong side of a loaded weapon, conceded to paying the ridiculous fine. Well, fine enough then.

Well, we'll leave it there for now. Tune in next week for the continuation of The India Chronicles! (Does that sound exciting? There are so many more stories to tell. I want to make you all feel hooked like they do on t.v. Maybe I'll just end with...)

To Be Continued....