Water bottles and chains for your luggage are the top commodities for sale. Everyone looks as though they’ve been waiting for their train for ages, even if they’ve just arrived.
People sleeping on filthy concrete along what seem like mile long platforms. It smells like piss. Children walk along the tracks rummaging through garbage, seemingly ignorant to the arrival of trains. All ranks of society are here; business men and women waiting for their 1st class AC coach to arrive, the homeless taking shelter from the pollution and dangers of the streets, families spread on a blanket, waiting. Yet, despite what seems like stagnant mayhem, these stations function, like everything else in India, with a different capability.
We rode 2ndsleeper-class AC. I found my upper bunk, #18. A thin platform with sheets and pillow provided. I padlocked/chained my bag below me, climbed up and slept wearing my money belt and hugging my daypack, containing my laptop, camera, and iPod. The train’s toilet technically provides the only fresh air, as the toilet is simply a metal basin opening to the rails below. We left congested, humid Delhi at 10:40pm and arrived at 6:00am in the mountains. A 2.5 hour car ride brought us through quickly approached switchbacks and oncoming traffic, amongst villages and forest. As the road turned to dirt we rounded a bend to reveal the spectacular view of the sharp, white peaks of the Himalayas towering in the distance. We walked a final 20 minutes down a path to Sonopani, our new home for the next 10 weeks.
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Much of the drive here reminded me of the Quilotoa region of Ecuador. The sloping farms and small towns, the people walking between work and home along the road. The larger houses dotting the landscape owned by the wealthy of Delhi as weekend retreats from the city heat resemble the haciendas. Small Hindu shrines and temples frequent the road, similar to the miniature churches so common throughout Latin America, representing the constant and essential presence of religion in their society. There is no abject poverty here, nor there. Am I drawing these inferences because this is the culture I am most familiar with? Or is there something to these observations? My group is constantly hearing me make comparisons and talk about experiences in Costa Rica, Guatemala, or Ecuador. Even in Delhi I noticed many similarities to Latin culture. The way the men dress and stare, the way the women walk together. However, the similarities stop at social interactions. Indians and Latinos are extremely different in personality. How does climate and geography contribute to cultural similarities? I’m sure the natives of Rajasthan would not impress upon me such comparisons. Could these similarities in rural settings allow for development policies and plans to be replicated between societies, or are the cultural differences too great to permit such generalization? Can culture be categorized by geography and societal structure, instead of solely ethnic heritage? (i.e. Can we develop similar standards between the nomads of Rajasthan and Somalia, and the indigenous of Papua New Guinea and the Amazon?)
Sonopani is wonderful. It’s a property with 12 modest sized “cabins” for guests. To my surprise and excitement, each cabin has a private bathroom, with fully capable toilets (i.e. Toilet paper is used and provided!). The food is amazing. We’ve spent one relaxing day here of doing nothing but resting and eating. The view is spectacular and the weather ideal. Tomorrow we will continue to settle in (we have several students who are feeling slightly ill), begin to learn Hindi, and explore our surroundings by hiking the area. Right now it’s easy to forget we are in India (with the exception of the Himalayas looming in the background), we are being spoiled. I look forward to begin work with the NGO when we will start meeting the community and having weekend home stays.
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