A Different Side of India

It's election day!

The countryside was almost shut down this morning. There was hardly any traffic and no taxis or autorickshaws running. I had to take a cyclerickshaw the 15 km ride to the nearest train station in Gaya.

The road to Gaya passed through green fields and brick houses and factories. locals quietly shuffled to and from voting stations and military police stood around to prevent mischief. As we neared Gaya we ran into our first roadblock. The main road was closed for all traffic. We then had to do a 2km detour that passed through narrow streets and outlying villages. Every now and again we would run into the police and have to do small detours. TI amazed me that the police road blocks didn't actually block us from getting to the station.

As the end of the 2 hour journey drew near, I had my first encounter with a different side of India. A school-aged boy pulled up beside the moving rickshaw on his bike and started chatting. In Bodhgaya, he would have been looking for money, but money wasn't what he wanted, he just wanted to chat.

At one point he asked me what my name was. When I told him, he asked what Charles meant. I know that Charles has some kind of meaning ("leader among men", or something like that) but I wasn't exactly sure so I just said I didn't know. He was confused by the Idea of not knowing what you name means. He took a different approach to find some meaning in my name; "Like Prince Charles?," he asked. "Yes. exactly," I replied.

Upon affirming that my name is the same as the prince's, he went into a long explanation about how his uncle lives in London and how he had his picture taken with Prince Charles once. After a little more chatting, when I was sure he was going to ask for money, he just said it was wonderful to meet me and cycled away.

My second encounter with a friendly Indian was after eating lunch on the railway platform. An old man who I could only understand about 30% of the time started chatting away. He was 67 years old, retired from a job in a British chemical company. He loved to talk, and gave a long explanation about the good and bad people in India and how there are both types of people anywhere in the world.

I took his point and began to realize that I had only been exposed to Indians in the tourist industry or those trying to siphon off as much money from tourists as possible. Many of these Indians have been deceptive and not worthy of any tourist's trust. Starting with the boy on a bike and followed by this old man, I was starting to see a friendlier honest side of the country.

Our conversation (which mostly consisted of listening on my part), lasted over 45 minutes and spanned from his personal life to the details of my trip. At various points, our conversation attracted large crowds of other people who listed curiously. I doubt many of them spoke much English; nonetheless, they all listened intently.

My third encounter with a friendly Indian was on the train to Patna. I sat next to a Chemistry student who lives in Calcutta but is from Patna. Named Vivek, this guy talked more than the other two combined. Trains and Planes usually put me to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, he would start a new conversation. I gave him my e-mail and he left me with an offer to stay in Calcutta anytime.

Sitting next to Vivek also introduced me to the corrupt side of government in India. His father is an Engineer in the public sector, so the mere mention of his father's name was his ticket. I turned out that the majority of passenger in our car only had ordinary tickets and had bribed the railway officials to let them on the AC chair class car, which is much more comfortable.