Dalama Adventures Tale of two corporate types ditching their jobs and traveling the world for 14 months... check out all photos, blogs & interesting tid bits at http://www.dalama.net

And the fun never ends... Try sharing a train compartment with 8 other strangers for two days/two nights. The first day-night isn't so bad; you're just getting to know your compartment compadres, and everyone is nice, social, unobtrusive... The honeymoon period. The typical formalities, exchange of curiosities; where are you from, where are you going, a little about your background and job. Dinner orders are taken: veg or non-veg? Then my scary meal is served - hunks of bone with skin, a little spicy Indian gravy, daahl, chapattis, rice, and my savior - cup 'o curd too cool off the palette. All meals come with tea - or what is better termed milky colored water with 5 sugar packets. By the end of the meal we're a mess - they don't believe in wet wipes or napkins here, as everyone eats with their hands. I haven't quite figured out where they wipe off the food though, as we seem to be the only ones struggling with the uncomfortable mess. The plastic trays they serve you on leak oil as you eat on your lap; so much for having clean clothes for the next 3 days of train and plane travel to Nepal. People start to et sleepy so the two bottom bunks that have served as seats for 6 people now are compressed into three sleeping spaces against each wall, and we quickly lay out our fresh pressed white Railway linens and dirty wool blankets for bed time. We douse ourselves with wet wipes that I've specially stashed away for smelling fresh, and we tuck in for the long night ahead. Night sounds echo through our chamber; snores, hacks, train horn blasts, and cellphones blasting with Indian ring tones fill the monotony of the train sliding over the tracks. I'm on the top bunk, and this time, sleeping over top of Darrin whose in the middle bunk. We're on the inside cubicle of the carriage this time, which is much better than our last ride to Goa - as when the train rocks back and forth against the side of the tracks, we are protected by two adjacent walls and not so easily jarred when the car teeters back and forth, leaning around sharp turns. Although the ride is relatively smooth, I awaken in a cold sweat, dreaming of the scene in the movie Namsake that we just saw; the scene where the train rolls off the tracks and ends up in mass carnage on the Indian Railway, with animals and rescue squads scavenging through the wreckage of human bodies and luggage. I look around me in the dark and all is calm, everyone is asleep, except for the skinny Indian college student on the top bunk next to me, whose been hacking his respiratory infection germs all over me all night. I cover my head with my sheet and go back to sleep. Bummer the AC isn't working in our car, I'm sweating to death. Morning arrives far too early, it's 5:45 and the train purser "happy boy" is shaking and waking everyone, ripping off the linens from the beds that house sleeping bodies like caskets in a morgue. It's his job to get all eight people in each car up, beds tucked away, and everyone seated with tea and primed for another delicious meal. I was seriously hoping to sleep away a good part of the long days ride - as we still have another long night and morning to go. No such luck. Chatty Indian boy across the seat starts preaching Krishna, and doling out books for us to educate ourselves with. He's also educated himself on American trivia - presidents, politics, geography, history and movie stars to name a few of his proud categories of knowledge. I'm actually annoyed, but impressed that he remembers all the stuff I should have learned and remembered still from elementary school. He fires facts and figures at us for hours, questioning our own knowledge of our country, and making us feel like idiots. I finally pull out my 1000 page Shantaram book, hoping that he'll turn off his mouth... But he shifts his target to Darrin who he feels needs spiritual enlightenment. At least I'm off the hook for polite listening. Darrin, though, gets a lecture and a reading assignment. Two others in our carriage are on "official business," for the Indian Postal Service - they're system administrators, seconded to Delhi to "help"... Kind of like we're here from corporate to "help" you out. Government jobs bring good benefits and lifetime employment here in India... These two individuals are long term, happy employees. Three other boys in our carriage chat about their education they're pursuing and how they plan to get ahead in today's Indian middle class society. They're full of hopes and dreams; it's prime time in India if you have an education - to travel, go overseas, get your masters, and come back with a good job. You can feel the excitement in these kids about globalization, and the opportunity and hope that it's brought to young Indians that intend to take full advantage. 7:00 am brings on the nasty train meals and we opt to sample, but quickly pass and gobble up our Tim Tams and salty snacks. The day brings games of UNO in our carriage with our new bed buddies, along with Hindu songs a-blare from low speaker quality MP3 players. As the day passes, we meet more, curious passengers; a cute 7 year old boy passes back and forth and we practice English with him, sending him back to his parents with new American -English slang and phrases like, "hey dude, what's up," and "wanna surf," and "mom, you're the best mom in the whole world, and you cook amazing dinners." The game of telephone brings us together, and I end up invited to the last carriage to chat with the boy's parents, and to chat with the Punjabi's that speak very little English. Big eyes and smiles, we exchange information about ourselves with sign language, and with an army guy who knows some English and pitches into translate. Stories flow of the beauty of the Punjab region and areas of Kashmir that are now too dangerous to visit. I get quizzed on how I'm managing to eat spicy foods, and if I'm competently using "Indian style" toilets. I smile, laugh, and show them how I roll up my pant legs and my secret stash of toilet paper, and we all laugh together. The warmth and happiness of those strangers around me have turned our train ride into a scene from the "Breakfast Club" movie. The friendliness and openness of those Indians we have met along the way continues to overwhelm us; we have felt so welcome, so at home, and so openly embraced along the way. This is why we love India.