We Survived Day 5: Things Got Worse

If you haven't already, read the first part of this story in the previous blog post about our journey to Chennai to recover our lost suitcase.

While Joy and I are making our epic journey back to Chennai, Glenda and Jeannette are trying to buy things we need for the house. They're all over our small village and eventually even journeyed to Nellore to get most of what we needed. They're having no easy day themselves, but I can't tell their story, so you'll have to settle for mine. Meanwhile, Isaac has misunderstood his instructions to stay at the house as stay in the room so he's refusing to come out when any of our hosts invite him outside the room. He's also trying to take care of the babies, though they are eventually seen to by our hosts anyway.

Back at the train, Joy and I are ushered into what initially feels like the gates of Heaven. Just inside the door of the train car is air conditioning. We could nearly cry from relief. But, the relief doesn't last long. Prasaad goes to two older gentlemen in the seats just inside the door and proceeds to begin to persuade them to get up and give us their seats. Understand, we have tickets for the regular car, not this little slice of heaven where everyone has their own seats and sweet, cool air. The older guys are understandably unmoved by Prasaad's arguments and refuse to get up. Prasaad begins pretty much demanding they do so, while I begin desperately trying to persuade Prasaad that we are fine, please do not do this. But he's as unmoved by our pleas as these gentlemen are by his. Finally, Prasaad spots a friend of his...I was told, but I'm kind of sketchy on why this guy owed Prasaad a favor. Anyway, this guy is either a ticket taker or the friend of the ticket taker so Prasaad brings him over and that guy proceeds to try and get these guys out of their seats and NO ONE will listen to Joy's and mine mortified pleas that we are fine to leave them alone. 

Eventually, everyone realizes these gentlemen are not going to give us their chairs, (Joy and I are grateful), and so Prasaad tells us to follow him. Of course, we do so. Now forget heat and the cramped quarters and outright danger we faced on this journey, what follows is by far the worst part of the trip for both of us. The train car is split in half by the aisle with four sets of chairs in each section, two facing two. So no matter where you are in the car, half the train is facing you. Prasaad leads us to the center of the car, then motions us to wait there and goes back to where we were standing by the door. 

Joy and I are left standing alone in the center of this train car, a car in which we so clearly do not belong, a car in which we are the only people standing, a car in which we are the only white people. We can feel every single eye in the train boring into us from in front of us and behind us. Everyone is staring. I can't imagine ever feeling more out of place in a situation ever. Eventually a catholic priest strikes up a conversation in decent english with us, sort of making it look like the only reason we're standing there is to talk to him. This provides some relief until the actual ticket taker shows up. He is not happy that we are in the special car without a ticket and immediately demands, nicely but firmly, that we must leave the car. Joy and I are only too happy to comply and we go back to where Prasaad is. He exchanges words with the ticket guy, but the ticket man is firm. At some point in this exchange Joy hears him say she can stay and points at her and so now she's feeling really uncomfortable with the ticket taker. The ticket taker guy again instructs us to leave, Joy and I try to obey, but Prasaad is right in front of the door. He's smiling and waving at us to wait and there's something about him that we just can't not do what he says.

The ticket man walks to the other end of the car, but keeps looking back at us, and now it does seem to me like he's looking at Joy. So eventually the train gets moving again, and we spend the next hour or two just as uncomfortable in this way as we were physically uncomfortable in the regular train.

The Chennai Central Train Station is so chaotic and crowded that it makes the floor of Wall Street look like a funeral. Joy and I are struggling to stay up with Prasaad in the crowd, and feel like if we lose him we may hug each other and cry like small children who have lost their mommy in the store. Just past the platforms are some food stalls and Prasaad urgently tries to get us to eat again. We finally compromise and tell him that if we could get some fruit and cold water we will be great. So, he decided we need to go to a place across the street from the train station. 

The street is nothing to him, he begins casually wading across it. But the street looks like I-35 in Downtown Dallas at rush hour--and not the bumper to bumper we're all stopped rush hour either! There are so many different vehicles and types of vehicles and they're all flying by. All we can do is follow Prasaad, so we stick as close as his shadow to him and try not to look. Then we make a turn and start walking upstream in the traffic. GULP!!! We finally get to our destination and Joy and I are clenching each other's hands hard enough to crack bones nearly. Prasaad walks up to the vendor and in a few minutes we have a cool pineapple juice drink make with a little milk, sugar, and most blessed of all, ICE! He's still trying to get us to eat something, but he's busy trying to reach the guy who's supposed to be meeting us there too. And within a few minutes, as wonderful as the cool drink tasted, it's churning in our stomachs. 

The temperature reads 106, feels like 116. We wait for a half hour and the guy finally arrives on a motorcycle, so we have to walk down I-35 again to get to him. He gets us an Auto and we take off for the airport...which is apparently an hour away from the train station. I assumed our new friend was following us, but when we get there he's nowhere to be seen. We go sit and wait while Prasaad tries to call him, but finally, he gives up and tells us that he has turned off his phone. I have some directions to the office we need, so we set off. Along the way we face several heavily armed guards who do not like that we are trying to enter the airport without a boarding pass, but eventually, I'm led to a massive room filled with luggage, and our lost suitcase is found!

We set off back for home, this time by bus--for reasons not explained to us, but by the time we reach Nellore, the last bus for our village is gone. Prasaad calls John and after a few minutes hands me the phone. John says to me, "Brother, there are no more buses to here tonight, what will you do?" I'm standing somewhere in a completely foreign city and I've just been told that the only method of travel I'm aware of to our village isn't going tonight. What will I do? What will I do?! It's all I can do to just keep from laughing into the phone. I also don't answer 'sit here and cry' I just say, "I have no idea what I should do." He tells me his sister lives in Nellore and asks if he can arrange for us to stay there tonight. It's nearly 10 o'clock at night, I've had a few bites for breakfast and two bananas to eat, I'm soaked with sweat, my stomach is making threatening roils and I'm exhausted. So sure, staying here sounds good, thanks. Prasaad tries to get us to eat again, he's really upset that we aren't eating--I'm far more concerned with the fact that neither of us have needed to go to the bathroom all day! So we spend the night, sleeping a few times, get going again early in the morning and finally arrive back at home exactly 24 hours after we left...and an hour before I need to leave for our first marriage. 

God is enough.

Pictured Above: Prasaad, whom we nicknamed Gopa Sahayam which means, 'Great Help'.