Train Escapades...

Sadly I have not updated with posts in quite a while and its high time I do so. Recently I’ve been really busy in Jaipur, recovering from illness (I’ll fill in about that later), developing my independent study project, visiting various NGOs, catching up on my Hindi homework, and living life. On March 6th-9th, a group of my friends and I traveled to Udaipur, a beautiful city in southern Rajasthan. The trip, rather impromptu, was quite a test of personal strength and ability to function, even through the worst of circumstances, alone.
Usually I talk a pretty big game about having a “strong stomach.” The last time I was India, I barely suffered from any of the typical “travelers’ illnesses” and managed to enjoy the majority of food. I worked in an urban slum, drank questionable water from time to time, and ate street food. My confidence had blossomed into cockiness as I entered India again, this time as a student. The first month and a half of my stay proved to be rather stable, never feeling more than just a stomachache.
The morning of the day we left for Udaipur I felt lethargic, queasy, and completely unlike myself. I slept through the majority of my classes at school in the library waking up ever so often to the soft nudges of my friends checking in on me. My Hindi teachers looked concerned that I planned to travel that very night. Even Mrs. Singh, who barely enters into matters that are not her own, spoke to me about considering the option of staying behind. My cockiness got the better of me. I let the warnings pass by hoping to prove to myself that I could be strong and in fact let mind trump matter.
The group had planned to take an overnight train to Udaipur that would arrive at seven in the morning. In the train station I felt completely fine, blinded and energized by the excitement of a trip on an overnight train to a beautiful city with my friends. I was not listening to signals my body was sending. That very night, after all were peacefully in bed snoozing away under worn woolen blankets in the AC car of the train, I jerked out of bed feeling more violently ill than I had ever felt in my entire life. A sudden wave of sickness, desperation, and fear overcame my whole being. How quickly could I get to the bathroom? Can I leave my belongings unattended in the train car? How am I ever going to survive this feeling? I decided to bring my purse and camera with me, leaving my overnight bag. I occupied the small squat toilet bathroom for over two hours in waves of illness, all alone in a train in the middle of rural Rajasthan. No parents stroking my back. Friends peacefully sleeping. The feeling of total and utter vulnerability piercing me. I managed to make it back to my seat, weak, dehydrated, and exhausted. I slept two hours before the train arrived in the Udaipur station. Of course I looked utterly terrible and my friends noticed my change in behavior immediately. Several friends assisted me the whole way to the hotel and got me into bed. Not completely unwillingly, I slept alone for the morning and most of the afternoon. I called my parents just to hear their voices and to commiserate over my sudden sickness. My mother, always caring and sympathetic in these situations, was a comforting ear as I lay, head throbbing, in the middle of a hotel room.
I won’t go into any more details of the course of the illness because they are pretty unnecessary in getting to the main point of this experience. I improved over the weekend and made the best of my trip visiting havelis (large Mughal style mansions), lake parks, and lake view restaurants. I enjoyed the company of my friends and slept the majority of the train back to Jaipur. It took more than a week for me to get my appetite back and to realize how much I needed that to happen to me. Feeling sick is terrible. It is debilitating, scary, but truly a test of how strong you can be and how, ultimately, you can and should rely on yourself. My cocky bubble burst. I no longer felt invincible and unaffected. The blurry memory of the sitting alone in a small train bathroom without help made me realize that you can get past painful experiences; you can and will be ok without the constant watch of your family and friends. Yes, of course, these people are irreplaceable elements in one’s life, but it is reassuring to know that, at the end of the day, you can feel safe and know that you can take care of yourself.