Want a hand there love?

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On the train from Goa I found my place and a hiccupping girl helped me put my bag on my bunk. She mumbled something I didn’t quite understand about my bag and proceeded to sit opposite me, continue hiccupping and smirking at herself for hiccupping. We became great friends. I’ve since asked her what she mumbled about my bag, and she did tell me, but I’ve forgotten.

Once she got over her hiccups we chatted and chatted and she decided she would try and come to do the vipassana I was heading to do in Igatpuri. She told me she had wanted to do one anyway, so we decided to try and get her on the course. We got on so well and chatted so much it seemed only logical that she should join me somewhere for 10 days where we would not be able to talk, or even have eye contact.

However many hours later we arrived in Mumbai, again, and spent almost the whole time there calling the Vipassana Institute to try and get her on the course. Woo for her, and me, for some reason I wanted her to join me, she got a place. Thank you vipassana for all the effort to fit her on.
I think the reason I wanted her to come was how we ended up traveling to Igatpuri. She bought the tickets, having mustled the strength of RockyII (I don’t know why Rocky II) to carry both our backpacks to me, patiently waiting in the ticket que even though the train we wanted to get was departing in 5 minutes, and pushed round to the side to buy two of the cheapest train tickets.

It was ok, we were in the ladies carriage. There were no chairs left so we, very wisely, stood where the doors are with our bags. I’m not going to explain step by step what happened, but basically we ended up piled on top of each other, probably 9 women wide, 3 deep and 2 high. With bags. The process between me and Maryline (the hiccupping girl) being sensibly standing by the doors to being crammed in like more than 4 elephants in a mini, was really fast, awe inspiring, and involved a lot of hair pulling, screaming, pushing, shoving, screaming, clambering, clinging, being pushed against and climbed over, every bit of my body one of those plastic green things screwed to an indoor climbing wall, and me, quietly giggling to myself, whispering to Maryline that I was having a great time.
In fact, I was having a great time. I’m not normally one to giggle to myself relentlessly but on this occasion I was, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

I would’ve taken photos but it would’ve spoilt the moment, or 3 ½ hrs that we were stuck there. Plus my camera was firmly wedged about 5 ft below me. It was an experience I never want to forget, plus when some ladies started singing it was so beautiful, gazing out as the scenery flew past, rain splattering by, with their beautiful voices, singing I don’t know what, but some amazing village song or something. Their beautiful smiles looking at our appreciative faces. Even though my arm ached, I was slightly worried that my waterproof camera case was in 20 pieces and I hadn’t felt my left leg for well over 40 minutes, it was wonderful.

Oh yeh, anyway, Igatpuri. We got there, dark and drizzly, and found what can only be described as the worst hotel in Igatpuri. Here is your room; peeling walls, thick brown grease on the walls where the heads of the bed were, brown splatters all around and.. ‘Oh!’.. CRUNCH.. well, no more cockroach. Quick thinking reactions of the owner probably didn’t appreciate my ‘Ahimsa!’ gasp. Oh, look at me so honest and good.. and apologized profusely. ‘It’s ok’ I said as I closed my eyes whilst he removed the dead cockroach.. shudder…

More fun, more chatting, more food at a late bar. Very nice proper cheap Indian food, a nice change to the mainly European stuff in Goa.
Also the next day we found another place to eat. More great food. Lots of men… and beer.. hmmm.. at 11am.. hmmm.. and transvestites.. Well, perhaps not the most respectable establishment to be taking our lunch but it tasted ok.

We went to the Vipassana Academy, said our last words to each other, and enrolled. Or enrolled, then said our last words to each other.
Suffice to say that night I was sick. I shall not go into details but I continued to be sick the next day. Then it was fine, pretty good going for my first sickness in India. Pleased with myself, I continued on in Noble silence.

I suppose I should describe what a Vipassana is to those of you who don’t know, but I feel this is long enough already so I shall write it in another page if you are interested to know. For those of you who aren’t, it’s basically where you don’t speak for 10 days and you meditate. Or you daydream and don’t speak for 10 days. Or you, in my case, narrate everything you are doing and don’t speak for 10 days. In any case, it’s fun, and you don’t speak for 10 days.

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