Thinking back to my very first day in India, I am amazed at how smoothly everything went. I landed on time in Kerala after my very first flight in Business Class, having been upgraded by the airline. When I arrived in Varkala in the midldle of the night I just happened to stumble across a garden party at a particularly cool Guesthouse, where I was immediately encouraged to stay. My first few days were spent at the beach in a region that is known for its high level of human development and education. I loved every moment of it. All was well.
This time around my first day back in India didn’t go quite as smoothly. It’s always important to keep in mind that “anything is possible” when traveling here, so expectng the unexpected quickly becomes a fact of life. Even with this in mind I was still caught off guard by the extreme difficulty of perfroming seemingly simple tasks on my first day back in India.
I arrived at the bus stand in Kathmandu just in time for a 7pm departure to Birganj on the Indian border. By 8 the bus pulled out only to spend the next two hours cruising the side streets of Kathmandu trying to pick up more passengers. Because this is the norm for buses on the Subcontinent, I wasn’t surprised in the least when at 10pm we were finally sitting in traffic waiting to leave Kathmandu. Delays are the norm in this part of the world, but the road gods really outdid themselves this time to ensure that the ride to the Indian border was as slow and painstaking as possible. My favorite moment came when we reached a point where an accident was blocking the road. Frustrated by the blocked road my bus driver, along with about 10 other buses started searching for alternate routes. We spent the next two hours driving into fields the bus bouncing heavily on its alread more-than-loose suspension. It was a marvelous game of trial and error with the driver getting loads of practice turning the bus around in some of the tightest bumpiest areas imaginable. Eventually though we were back on track and I made the border crossing at 9 in the morning, exhausted from a night of no sleep but elated to be back in India at last.
Crossing back into India I was bombarded with all the usual sensory overload, and amazed at how intensely noisy, smelly, and hot the plains can be, especially compared to the peace and tranquility of the Himalaya. I boarded a bus to Patna, the capital of Bihar State. The rest of the day was spent plodding along towards Patna with frequent stops to fix the bus, which had one mechanical prbblem after another. I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t make it to Bodhgaya that day, and looked forward to relaxing and getting an early night’s sleep in Patna, after the long trip.
I arrived in Patna about 24 hours after leaving Kathmandu sleep deprived, dehydrated, and in need of a good meal. Declining the assistance of some pushy rickshaw-wallahs at the bus station I proceeded on foot to find a room for the night. Normally in India there is an abundance of cheap accomodation near a major bus station – the quality often leaves a lot to be desired, but for a single night’s sleep in transit its ok. Patna turned out to be no different with several hotels lining the main road next to the station. I walked into the first hotel, asked to see a room, and was immediately met with a shaking of the head and a motion to get out. Not able to communicate well with the manager I asked “full?”, but the manager again shook his head. At the next hotel the proprietor merely pointed to his arm, then to my arm shaking his head all the while. At the third hotel the manager at least spoke enough English to tell me “White skin no.” “foreign people not allowed”. At least understanding the bizarre behavior of the first two proprietors, I proceeded down the line convinced that someone somewhere would give me a room.
After getting rejected by the last and final hotel my heart sank, my stomachache gurgled from hunger, and my head was starting to pound from being dehydrated. Looking around I could see that I was in one of the filthiest, least developed, and most poverty stricken cities I have yet visited. Large areas of the city were filled with knee-deep stagnant water from the monsoon, men defecated into open sewers lining the main street and visibility was cut down to almost zero by suffocating smoke from burning piles of rubbish. Desperate and not knowing what else to do I sat down on a couch in the lobby of the final hotel, started reading a book and tried to communicate that I would be spending the night there in the hotel reception area if I couldn’t get a room. Frustrated the proprietor asked me if I wanted him to call the police. Not knowing what else to do I told him to please go ahead and call, hoping at least that the police would know of a place where I could spend the night.
When the police arrived they didn’t seem interested in me in the least, and instead told me to continue waiting in the lobby while they went off and spent nearly two hours drinking tea and chatting with the owner of the hotel. Regretting my decision to involve the cops more with each passing minute, I was relieved when they motioned for me to climb into their Jeep to drive me to another hotel. We drove to another part of town where I was dropped off and given directions to a hotel that accepted foreigners. Finally it seemed I would be able to eat dinner and get some sleep – something I hadn’t had in nearly 36 hours now.
Or so I thought. Despite my best efforts I could not find the hotel that the police had told me about. By this point I had become too exhausted to feel frustration and instead found the whole situation comical. By and by I hired a cycle-rickshaw and told the driver to just find me a room. After another long ride across town I was dropped at a hotel and conference center that accepted foreigners. After a brief moment of jubilation my heart sank yet again when I saw that the cheapest rooms started at 150 a night US. Another long ride back brought me back to the place where the police dropped me off. This time I was determined to find the hotel the police recommended.
Over the course of the next hour I was turned away from no less than 15 hotels, in most cases because I was foreign, but I did find three hotels licensed to accept foreigners that were already full. After 10pm businesses began to close and I once again became nervous. Of all the cities I’ve been to in the world, Patna is probably the absolute last place I would want to be stranded without a room. Finally, just as I felt ready to give up I found one hotel that was willing to give me a room for 35 dollars a night. Past the point of caring about price (most places I’ve stayed average about 5 a night) I took the room, got a good night’s sleep, and woke up in the morning refreshed and ready to go again. I arrived here in Bodhgaya last night where the atmosphere is a world apart from Patna, and am once again happy to be in India.
A few notes about this blog entry. India’s Bihar State has the lowest human development index of any place on the Subcontinent. Indians from other parts of the country often view Bihar as both a national laughingstock and embarassment, for its extreme political corruption and failure to provide even the most basic healthcare and education. Here, most of the population is completely illiterate, and life expectancy is among the lowest in the world. Indian bureaucracy is legendary and after talking at greater length with the proprietror of the Guesthouse here in Bodhgaya, it seems that the government in much of Bihar has made it next to impossible for most businesses to operate normally. I’ve been told by many people in the last couple days that the state government is completely controlled by the Mafia and that well connected politicians will use intimidation, often with very real threats of violence, to promote their own business interests. In most parts of India hotel managers merely have to acquire the necessary paperwork to legally register foreign guests. In Bihar, however, politicans with their own businesses to think about, prevent any potential rivals from acquiring the necessary permits. This is why in a region of the world where so many laws are completely disregarded and ignored, I couldn’t persuade one single manager to bend the rules for one night.
Here in Bodhgaya things are a little different with the hotels, because Bodhgaya is the one city in Bihar that sees foreign tourists. I will post an update about Bodhgaya and the other side of Bihar soon.
(This post has been taken from http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/blog-509516.html)
Great information! I’ve been looking for something like this for a while now. Thanks!