Tuesday, March 11, 2014

On A Train To Paris



Train Journeys In Three Continents



Trains used to be a major factor of life in my young days, and still are a major way of life in India. It is not only that they are well laid out as far as covering the country goes, with most travel possible by using a combination of major train and some bus journey. It is also that they lend so well to the mentality, the way of life. People go to the train station en masse, to wait for the train and to see off the traveller, they wait for the train and if it is late one spends time there as one would anywhere else. One gets on the train and finds a place to settle down, and then the compartment is your new community for the duration of the hours you spend together. People share food, talk, help each other with getting tea and so forth from the platforms of various stops at stations on the way, and on the whole are a substitute family for the duration. There is no exchange of addresses, even of names often; but the temporary nature of the togetherness stops no one from being themselves and connecting. 

The first time I saw trains outside India it was in Germany, and a lot was impressive - the neatness and cleanliness, lack of crowd, quiet, and the trolleys brought around with food served, if you did not wish to walk to the dining car that is nice too. But the whole thrill of those journeys was of a pattern with the thrill of being there, discovering the country, the beauty of Black Forest and its walking trails, the whole experience. I was told "sometimes a tram can be as late as even two minutes during rush hours" - and when I was back a train I waited for was four hours late, and people were restless but at peace enough, and with that I knew with a finality that it was India, not the dreamland I had visited. 

The difference of trains in the two was even more extreme when once I travelled in U.S. in train from east coast to Michigan, and found that while most travellers were probably satisfied with the couple of varieties of burgers I was left with not so much choice; the stops on the way had only a vending machine, and people in the train did not talk to strangers - so with a book and some scenery and not much else to do it is a very different journey. I suppose it might be different if one travels from Chicago to west coast especially on the scenic routes with glass roof double-decker trains, but still, the difference of India and west was then stark. 

When I returned to India after less than a decade it was the train journeys that again brought home something else - I travelled in trains that were packed with a new definition of the word, we were sitting on the luggage rack (it is spacious and at the height of an upper bunk in old trains) and there was not space to descend without warning everyone who was packed below in every inch of the space; but then we settled and when the major stop came where everyone wanted tea and snacks, those close to the window and those who had managed to step out carried out the transactions with money going from hand to hand and your stuff arriving without mistake the same way. We were a close community. 

It was even more brought home when once I happened to travel in the general passholders compartment in the very royal Deccan Queen, and not only was not hassled but even given a very courteous treatment by those who travelled in that compartment every day twice a day, commuting over seven hours a day; not only they made place for me to sit, but when the train catering official arrived with snacks and drinks they wouln't allow me to pay. They were home, and I was a guest, I could pay for them the next time, they said - knowing fully well there might be no next time. And if I had refused it would be an insult, so I accepted, gratefully. They claimed they were no less than brothers - to each other and me too. 

When we were in Germany again, this time for a couple of years, once we travelled to Paris by train, for Easter vacation week. It had been nearly two decades since my first visit to Europe and the thrill of revisiting was strong. But this journey was something else. This time we got into talking with a co passenger who was travelling with her young son, they lived in Paris where the son had lived most of his little life, and she was from Germany. 

She was happy enough living in France but was considering returning, and I got the impression it was more of a patriotism combined with a little guilt at being happy abroad that was operating. She was happy enough at doing well, but seemed to be upset when she asked about our occupations and realised we were more educated, and explained why she was not - extraordinary, as if anyone has to explain such different levels of education unless it had to do with poverty and need to earn - it was because she was doing better than many people who had higher degrees and did not do so well, that she had no reason to feel bad about her school level education, and so forth. Since we had no logical response she was a bit disappointed and went on to say other things that might bring a reaction forth. Some of those pieces of that conversation are gems, in terms of what they think. 

First she talked about the south American friend she had who was a little darker than one of us. I got the impression it was contrary to her expectation that people other than European could be light coloured or could care little enough to have families with various degrees of light to dark skins. Her friend was of European descent, so it was a surprise to her that someone of European blood could be darker than someone from India, especially when the person from India had no European ancestry. 

They forget the effect of roasting on food is no different from that of sunlight on skin; and that human genes are endowed with nature's wisdom in adapting to the expected life in heat of the tropics is not yet suspected by most of those who think the same way - European ancestry, pale, any other dark. Hence the surprise about them getting darker in tropics than some of us. 

Silly, really. But it got worse. 

She then talked about some Jewish people whom she had met in Paris, old people, who were getting along pleasantly enough with her until they discovered she was German. Then they stopped talking to her "even though" she was too young to have had anything to do with their unpleasant memories. She had neatly reduced the Holocaust to a bunch of old people sulking and turning away. I think she expected us to sympathise with her and was quite surprised that it was not forthcoming - we merely indicated we had heard and understood what she had said, but with no comments. 

Perhaps the other two glaring youngsters in the compartment - not with her but of her nationality - might have had something to do with that; they had been displeased we were in conversation, and were glaring throughout, so the last thing we were about to do was to have an unequal even if only verbal (the latter by no means guaranteed) encounter unnecessarily. We were rather determined to have a pleasant holiday, going to Paris, and did not want anything spoil it, not even an argument. 

Also, facts and history do not change by verbal fights or physical for that matter and no one in the compartment was in need of information on either historical facts or effect of tortures on survivors and their looking askance at those who might have had something to do with it. The frowns and worse we got regularly in Germany, (and in that compartment from those other youngsters,) when we spoke English - which was normal for us - had something to do with allied bombings, which people did talk about when an acquaintance was further along at a stage where they expected sympathy and are unaware of others' knowledge of history. 

Later, when we had fallen silent, and were looking through the huge high windows at the rolling country of France - it was somewhere in Champagne region, with vineyards covering hours of journey view - she spoke again, to remark to the effect that France had so much empty land and Germany was so crowded with a much higher population; she left the thought unfinished, but it was obvious she thought that it was unnatural, selfish, unfair of France not to offer an equal division of land to Germany on basis of population count, and it was clearly the old lebensraum at work again. 

But then - with that sort of logic about what is fair, why do they complain about African immigrants to Europe who try desperately to escape a continent ravaged (and Europe had something to do with that!) with various problems, and arrive in Europe to find food and shelter? After all isn't that why Europeans went everywhere just a few centuries ago, too? That they colonised or often enslaved and even massacred local populations, robbed them of land and anything else they could, and imposed the rules of their superiority in lands that were not theirs but those of the locals, is far worse than what the poor immigrants are doing in any country! Or perhaps that is the fear they have - what if tables were to turn? 

I wonder if France is aware of any - how many, who knows - of their newly friendly neighbours looking at their land - and Champagne region included - with stirring of the same old idea of lebensraum.
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