When you drink, transitions are usually the first to go from the memory... but I don't think I'll ever be able to forget moving from place to place in India. We took the most common forms of transportation- auto, taxi, and train.
Auto: Autos are much like rickshaws except powered by a mini car instead. Driving in India is ten 10x worse than in Vietnam. It is almost complete and total chaos. Dodging oncoming trucks, cars, motorcycles, and autos by just a few inches is apparently a breeze for the experienced Indian, but I found my self gripping my seat. Usually we could squeeze three people into the small auto, and I always chose the middle seat, just in case we hit a bump too hard I wouldn't go flying out of the vehicle without doors.
Taxi: The taxi services in India were known as fairly sketchy unless you hired a personal driver which is what we did. On our way to Pondicherry, we chose to hire a driver and a translator that tagged along with him. Unfortunately, they took the fact that we were "Americans with money" and ran with it. The rate would change every time we discussed payment and they found a way to get extra money out of us in every little way possible. The translator (named Mjiva) "borrowed" Oliver's sunglasses and drove off with them. When we called to get them back he returned 25 minutes later, but demanded about 20$ compensation for driving back to us... The drive was pretty exciting however with constant indian music being blasted at all times.
Train: Oh the trains! The trains in India were possibly the least forgettable part of the trip. Arriving at the train station after 3-4 hours of taxi driving from Pondicherry, I was gross and needed to go to the rest room. I payed all of 2 cents to go into the washroom where I bypassed the makeshift showers and found the toilet. Unfortunately a woman and her son were squatting over the hole in the ground that was the toilet bowl. Needless to say it looked like they would be a while. I chose to pretend to be disabled and use the handicapped bathroom. I shut the door behind me and I was thrilled that it was a western style toilet! But... I was shocked and almost gagged when I saw that surrounding me, on all three walls and the seat of the toilet was poop. Poop was smeared everywhere. Crap. (no pun intended) Well I really had to go, so I squatted and finished up quickly when I heard a click. I thought I had dropped something, but as I plugged my nose I didn't see anything on the ground other than a few scattering cockroaches. I went to open the door, and to my horror I was locked in! Someone had locked me in the bathroom! This was possibly my worst nightmare-locked in a poop chamber. I frantically searched around for a way to get out. I contemplated breaking the glass door part, but instead I found a hole next to the sink. I clumsily hopped on the sink and hoisted myself through the hole that probably only I could fit in. Why in the world would a handicap toilet have a lock on the outside is beyond me, but I ran out of the bathroom to meet the other guys I was traveling with feeling scarred and violated. I vowed I would never use another Indian toilet. (I did, but the experience was much better than the last thank goodness)
When traveling from Chennai to Cochain, we had to take a sleeper train for 11 hours. We were lucky to get AC 2- a bunk bed with curtains and a fan. We met some amazing people on the train. One man owned a paper mill and was fascinated by our story from around the world. We showed him pictures, told him stories, and in return he generously called a friend he knew to bring us fantastic Indian food (that we knew we wouldn't get sick on) Yes, the train was a fun, but dirty experience. I won't forget any of it.
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