Kolkata to Lucknow

Let me say that I've often come across affirmations of the Indian stereotype for hospitality. But it is just that, a stereotype, not a fixed rule. Many people have either been tremendously helpful, caring, and at least considerate. But those stories aren't as interesting in my mind.

The hotel receptionist told me that flag down a cab to Howrah train station and it would cost 60-70 rupees. I did just that and squeezed into an occupied cab. When we arrived at the station I asked how much. At this point I was willing to pay no more than 100. That was more than fair. The driver said, "Twenty." I blurted out, "That's all?" My shock must have sounded like anger because the driver repeated more forcefully, "Twenty." I gave him thirty and said, "Tip." He smiled.

While driving over the Howrah bridge, the driver lowered his head and put his hands together in prayer because we were over a holy river. Part of me thought that it was a very moving scene. But another part of me thought maybe he should lift his head and keep his eyes on the road since he was driving us over a bridge in India!

I couldn't find my train number anywhere at Howrah. Things started to get desperate. I shoved my way up almost all the way to the enquiry booth when I saw my train number and platform. I went to the train, but couldn't find my name anywhere on the passenger list. I sat down and waited for what was to come. Maybe they'd make me buy the ticket all over again, even though I had been billed for it. The ticket checker came and I explained everything to him. I had a confirmation email, which was cut off, and I had been billed for the ticket, but I never received an e-ticket. The guy listened patiently and then started searching for my name. I saw it on his list! I was in the right seat, but in the wrong car. The ticket checker was really nice.

I got to my seat which smelled like shit, literally. I braced for the 18 hour journey. There was still the slight threat of being kidnapped by Maoists. But I was so releaved, none of that mattered. Everything had worked out! And as it turned out, I wasn't kidnapped by Maoists. I'm in Lucknow now, but have only made the walk from the train station to the hotel across the street.