Crossing the Indian Border

Raxaul, India

On Tuesday morning, our hotel arranged for a horse cart to take us to the highway 40 minutes away where where we were to flag down a bus going to the border town Birganj. We fortunately got the last two seats in what turned out to be a very crowded bus for 3 hours down to the border. We made many stops along the way to pick up passengers. Sometimes, we would stop but saw no one get on or off. We later realized that people were climbing onto the roof to sit, which is very common for buses in Nepal. When we arrived in Biganj, we saw two guys unloading 6 goats from the roof of our bus and then lead them towards the town's main road. The town was quite a sight- full of colorful trucks heading to India, food being cooked in outdoor stalls while dust swirled all around us. The streets were full of horse carts and rickshaws taking people to the border, the town has no taxis. We stopped for lunch and took our first rickshaw 4 km to the border. There was a crazy back-up towards the end of the trip so we gave our tired-looking rickshaw driver, whose right arm was in a cast, a 100% tip and walked across. When we got our departure stamps, the Nepali border workers marvelled at our 5- and 7-year Indian visas, saying "Bravo sir" to S. We crossed over the border bridge into Raxaul with many Indians and Nepalis. All were walking with a purpose, some barefoot, some carrying naked children and many staring shyly at us and we walked passed. The man at the Indian border very critically looked at our visas, questioning why a section had been crossed out. He fortunately believed us when we said the Indian Embassy in NYC did it, told us to give him 100 rupees and asked us for any small American bills or coins.
Walking down main street, we were bombarded by touts trying to take us on their rickshaws or to their friend's hotel. As we went up to Hotel Decari, one of the touts followed us and told the man at the front desk he brought us there so he could get a commission. After checking in, we walked to the train station, which was a mad house. There were hundreds of people sitting outside resting, eating and sleeping and there was a mob in front of the ticket booths. As women in India are allowed to skip the lines, I pushed my way to the front where a man finally told me to go around the corner to the upper-class ticket office. The mob was waiting for general seating tickets. The upper-class office was empty and the man easily helped us book two tickets for the next morning's 18-hour train to Kolkata (or Calcutta).
Yesterday morning, we arrived early to the train station and saw what the general seating actually means- if the cars are packed to the brim, you climb up on the roof. We saw women carrying little babies and even old grandmas making their way up there. While S and I were previously excited about riding general class, we both agree that riding on the roof of a train is a little too much. We had a peaceful ride in our first-class car and savoured every moment as that is the nicest we will travel by train in India for a while. I dozed off to sleep with deep-throated Indian men wandering up and down the cars selling "Chai, Chai, chai, coffee, coffee, coffee".
As today is Thanksgiving, S and I have checked into a mid range hotel, a splurge for us. We are staying in an 18th century colonial home with a large outdoor garden and very friendly and helpful staff. Our room is huge and we get complimentary breakfast in the morning. We got the last room in the hotel after the doorman and the man behind the counter told us the hotel was full. It was after we asked for availability for the next evening that they somehow found the room for us tonight. We had a delicious Thanksgiving day lunch-- 2 orders of rice, dhaal (yellow lentils), chapatti and vegetable curry in a crowded local restaurant for $1.30 total. We ate Indian-style, with our right hands. The challenge in eating this way comes when you need to tear the chapatti into bits with only your right hand. There is added difficulty because we are both lefties. S and I watch the other diners for lessons in technique.
Tonight we are going to a nice Italian restaurant to celebrate our 6 year anniversary, which is in 3 days. We thought we had to try to have some Western food on Thanksgiving.