Silchar to Lumding
INDIA | Wednesday, 23 April 2008 | Views [724]
The train journey north from Silchar to Lumding through the Cachar Hills was why we were in Silchar at all. This is a slow, north-bound, narrow-gauge line, as they all once were. It goes through flat lands, then jungle, over the ridge through the highlands before finally dropping down into Lumding. It was pretty spectacular scenery. Along the way the train stopped at certifiable stations, villages, and even places where it seemed only those in-the-know knew it would stop, the latter sometimes in ravines or on hillsides. It was packed, REALLY packed, with people crammed below and above in the sleepers, in the isles and between cars, and on the roof. When I expressed interest in a little roof riding I was told that someone just before the last stop had fallen off and broken his arm, and that some of the tunnels were pretty low and took some skill to make it through. Hmmm.
The Lonely Planet writes of this area as follows: “The attractive Cachar Hills are suffering serious insurgency from DHD Dimsa separatists whose poetically named subfactions (like ‘Black Widow,’ led by Jewel Gorlosa) are also embroiled in a bloody ‘turf war.’ Visiting Haflong, once a popular hill station, is not advised, but further south, the predominantly Bengali city of Silchar is safe.”
When we got to our first stop after boarding at Silchar, about 50 Sikh soldiers were on the platform ready to board. We had seen soldiers lounging around stations before and assumed they were moving from one transit camp to another. But soon after we began moving the soldiers did a sweep of the train, compartment by compartment, giving everyone the once-over, automatic weapons and all. Thereafter, at each stop, indeed each time the train came to a halt to wait for a train going the other way, the Sikhs got out and purposefully took up positions along the length of the train. At some stations there were already soldiers there, already in position. Along the way we were treated to stories from other passengers about the last attack, where it had been, how many people were killed and wounded, etc. At Haflong, already three hours behind schedule, Jim and I got out looking for station food, and there found all the offices sand-bagged against an attack. (I thought the food was good, but Jim later got sick; you just never know.)
But lucky for us, it was an uneventful trip. We just had to endure being 5 hours late, sweating ourselves into grease spots, and constantly shifting to get comfortable. After dark, I was reading by headlamp (not for the faint of stomach), except at stations where I realized I was attracting all the jungles’ bugs through the open window. Also, so many people were sleeping in the isles and nobody could get to the toilet. That’s when Jim looked over and said to me, “Watch your feet,” and I turned to see the woman next to me holding up her baby over the floor so he could pee. I whipped out my bag from under the seat as quickly as I could and held it on my lap; Ann pondered past train rides when her bag had gotten wet under the seat. Hmmmm.
And finally we were in Lumding, nearly midnight. We again proved that three aged hippies with packs could fit into a single tuk-tuk and had them take us to the Hotel Siddharth, where we went through the usual price dance, the price coming down from 2000 Rs ($50) to 200 Rs ($5). You just have to be willing to walk away. That made for a short but enlightened night.
