The morning moved fast. I had quite a lot of errands to run before meeting Jon at the post office, where we would then catch a jeep ride to N.J.P. train station for our 26 hour run on the tracks of the North East Express train to Delhi. From the post office I sent two hefty boxes of thoughtful gifts. One to my family in Canada and one to my adopted family in Thailand. (* In case those boxes never make it to where they should, I want it to be known here that I spent a lot of time n' money during those last remaining days in Darjeeling, with hopeful imaginings of returning home for my first Christmas in 2 years and handing out those rare, unobtainable gifts like the second coming of Clause).
As usual, our departure was down to the last minute and we bull rushed our way through the zig-zag streets of the Darj, seeking out a jeep heading for N.J.P while making quick-stop purchases of bread, vegetables and chips to eat on the long haul to Delhi.
Our desperation for a ride must have been easily written on our faces, as a loaded jeep pulled over and almost ran us down. He had two seats left, in the back, with a Russian and German husband and wife we had met a few times on the streets before. In three short hours the jeep descended from the foggy mountain city of scarves, long-johns and soothing tea to the fickle heat of Siliguri; shorts, sandals, sweat rags, and three litres of water a day for yours truly. The arrivals n' departures board at N.J.P station read that our train was 2 hours late, but we soon found out that the "2" actually meant that the train wouldn't pull into the station until 2:00AM, which meant it was 9 hours late. We had a pant load of time to kill in a rowdy, fly-ridden train station inhabited by many homeless children. Their cuteness shined through their dirt-caked exterior and my sympathy for them shined through my gruff appearance as well (but Jon n' I very seldom gave them money because we knew it was very seldom for them. They would be forced to give it up to their parents or some grease ball who controlled the begging in that area. In India, there is a market for everything). Over the course of our journey Jon had been carrying a package of pencil cases filled with small school supplies- pens, pencils, markers etc. They were given to him by a dear friend of his with the aim of giving them to orphanages. Instead of money we'd been handing them out to homeless kids as an alternative. Either that or food. When I was approached at NJP station there was only one pencil case left and, at that moment, there was only one little girl with her hand out so I gave her the last gift and watched her eyes brighten in surprise. She sat down beside me and began to rummage through it. The colors inside shot out like a light in contrast to her tarnished clothes and within seconds I was swarmed by a pack of runny-nosed kids out of nowhere. Jon was not far behind me, in the background getting his backpack repaired by a cobbler. He threw the suggestion at me to get them to share the contents of the pencil case, but the little on I had given it to thought that was a terrible idea. She bared her teeth like a stray dog and she shrieked like a banshee at anyone who reached for her new prize. Before I knew it, a mini riot had broken out amongst the homeless kids and I was forced to get up n ' go before they turned on me. As we walked further into the the station Jon handed out crackers to the ones that followed me and the situation was neutralized. Then we got ourselves a resting room to hang out in until 2 in the morning. We invited the Russion/German couple to kick back with us until their train arrived. They turned out to be most helpful in providing us with places to stay and things to check out on our short stint in Delhi. Around 1:00AM I took a walk to see the arrival board and saw that our train's time had been changed to 4:25AM. It was the beginning of a very long day.
Read Day 21
As usual, our departure was down to the last minute and we bull rushed our way through the zig-zag streets of the Darj, seeking out a jeep heading for N.J.P while making quick-stop purchases of bread, vegetables and chips to eat on the long haul to Delhi.
Our desperation for a ride must have been easily written on our faces, as a loaded jeep pulled over and almost ran us down. He had two seats left, in the back, with a Russian and German husband and wife we had met a few times on the streets before. In three short hours the jeep descended from the foggy mountain city of scarves, long-johns and soothing tea to the fickle heat of Siliguri; shorts, sandals, sweat rags, and three litres of water a day for yours truly. The arrivals n' departures board at N.J.P station read that our train was 2 hours late, but we soon found out that the "2" actually meant that the train wouldn't pull into the station until 2:00AM, which meant it was 9 hours late. We had a pant load of time to kill in a rowdy, fly-ridden train station inhabited by many homeless children. Their cuteness shined through their dirt-caked exterior and my sympathy for them shined through my gruff appearance as well (but Jon n' I very seldom gave them money because we knew it was very seldom for them. They would be forced to give it up to their parents or some grease ball who controlled the begging in that area. In India, there is a market for everything). Over the course of our journey Jon had been carrying a package of pencil cases filled with small school supplies- pens, pencils, markers etc. They were given to him by a dear friend of his with the aim of giving them to orphanages. Instead of money we'd been handing them out to homeless kids as an alternative. Either that or food. When I was approached at NJP station there was only one pencil case left and, at that moment, there was only one little girl with her hand out so I gave her the last gift and watched her eyes brighten in surprise. She sat down beside me and began to rummage through it. The colors inside shot out like a light in contrast to her tarnished clothes and within seconds I was swarmed by a pack of runny-nosed kids out of nowhere. Jon was not far behind me, in the background getting his backpack repaired by a cobbler. He threw the suggestion at me to get them to share the contents of the pencil case, but the little on I had given it to thought that was a terrible idea. She bared her teeth like a stray dog and she shrieked like a banshee at anyone who reached for her new prize. Before I knew it, a mini riot had broken out amongst the homeless kids and I was forced to get up n ' go before they turned on me. As we walked further into the the station Jon handed out crackers to the ones that followed me and the situation was neutralized. Then we got ourselves a resting room to hang out in until 2 in the morning. We invited the Russion/German couple to kick back with us until their train arrived. They turned out to be most helpful in providing us with places to stay and things to check out on our short stint in Delhi. Around 1:00AM I took a walk to see the arrival board and saw that our train's time had been changed to 4:25AM. It was the beginning of a very long day.
Read Day 21
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