When I was a senior in high school, I went to Long Beach, California for a science conference with a few of my classmates and my environmental science teacher. On our last day in California we decided we wanted to go into LA to sightsee. We found out it was going to be way too expensive to take a taxi from Long Beach to LA and also too complicated to rent a car, so we decided to take the train. Little did we know we were going to make stops in some of the most dangerous and crime ridden areas of America that are frequently mentioned in famous rap songs (aka Compton).

Loving the train

I thought that train ride was the most uncomfortable experience I would ever have in public transportation, but boy was I wrong.

We finished up our time in Calcutta on Sunday and began our journey through South India on Monday. We flew from Calcutta to Chennai with a layover in Bombay and then drove about two hours outside of Chennai to a smaller town on the beach, called Mamallapura where we visited a couple incredible temples and ancient sites and spent the rest of the day relaxing by the pool and attempting to brave the insanely strong current and waves of the Bay of Bengal.

That night was a night I know I will never forget. We took an overnight train from Chennai to Mysore, a ten hour long journey in total. I expected the train to be just like the Hogwarts Express, with red satin curtains, little private rooms with glass doors, and charming people with British accents walking up and down the aisles with delicious treats.

But in reality Indian trains are nothing like the Hogwarts express. They aren’t even like the trains in LA. They are so completely foreign there was no way I could have predicted what it would be like.

When we got to the station at about 8 p.m., it was packed with people of all walks of life, from the wealthy families of kids like the ones we met at Delhi Public School, to families of the very lowest class called untouchables sitting on the ground barefoot and dirty with all of their possessions in grocery bags. People slept on the ground waiting for their trains, curled into balls underneath linen sacks. The smell in parts of the station was one of the worst smells I have smelled since coming to India. We walked single file through the crowds, weaving in and out with our eyes glued to our rolling bags as we approached our train at the back platform.

In India the trains are divided into different classes, much like the people are. The accommodations range from the very highest equipped with Harry Potter-esque cabins with doors that lock and full beds, to an unairconditioned car with no guarantee of a seat. In these cars, people are often packed together like sardines and hanging off the sides.

We were in the class called AC-two tier that had air conditioning and fold out beds. There was a long hallway with bunk beds stacked against the wall separated by curtains. Even though we were in the second best class in the train, it wasn’t similar in any way to second class standards in America.

The bed was basically a gym mat that hung from the wall and the curtains were so thin they may as well have not been there. The cubicle I shared with my friend Katie was no bigger than a closet and situated right next to the bathroom. The entire night people walked by our curtain talking on the way to the bathroom, sometimes leaving the door open causing a lovely smell to seep out. The train roared and jostled me violently all night long. I “slept” in a ball curled around my purse with all my valuables. Ananda ensured us that we were completely safe, but I was still uneasy about having only a flimsy curtain separating us from complete strangers.

The train system in India is owned and operated by the government which explains a lot about the way it is. The railway is one of the most extensive in the world and it was built by the British in the 19th century. It connects almost every village, town, and city in India providing amazing opportunities for Indians to travel at a relatively low cost. It’s the major mode of transportation for all Indians, which explains why there were so many different classes of people in the station.

Although at points I was terrified and thought that night would never end, I can now say that I have been fully immersed into life as an Indian.