We were standing by track number three waiting for a train when a man walked up to us and started making hand and body gestures at us. He seemed to be indicating that we were not standing in the right place to get on our train, but he was deaf and couldn’t speak so communication took on a bodily form. At first I thought maybe he worked at the train station and just wanted to make sure people ended up in the right place, but he didn’t have a uniform like most of the other train station employees. Regardless, his message seemed urgent so we paid attention. There was nothing else to do but stand there and wait anyway. He led us down the corridor to wait in a different location. Out of the various first, second, or third class cars, reserved or unreserved, he believed this was where our second class unreserved car was going to stop. Not only that, but even though most of the people were lounging around waiting and not really paying attention, he wanted us to have our backpacks on and stand in the very spot where he believed the door to the train would be when it stopped. He sure did seem to know this train.
As my trust in Sri Lankan strangers was already deteriorating I might have been inclined to ignore this man’s advice but Fern is more receptive than me when it comes to paying attention to what people are saying and she picked up on what he was getting at. Through gestures alone he made it clear to her that we needed to be ready when the train stopped. A trainload of people would be getting off and a trainload of people would be getting on. It would be chaos. With a second class unreserved ticket there would be a car with a certain number of seats but there would be more people than there were seats. The rest would stand. We would need to fight our way through the chaos and get seats before they were gone to make sure we weren’t standing for five hours on this bumpy bouncy ride. This was not the time to be polite. Elbows would need to used. Nobody else, especially not the locals, would show us any consideration so it wasn’t necessary to be the nice guy.
When the train arrived it was exactly as he predicted. Before it had even stopped, people were shoving their way into the train and aggressively claiming seats. Being as large as I am and carrying a decent size backpack it was pretty difficult for me to fight upstream through people trying to get off the train. Fortunately Fern had taken the man’s advice to heart and really squeezed her way in there. And when I was sitting next to her on a reasonably comfortable seat while others crowded into the aisle and held on to various things to keep from falling over, I was thankful for it.
The man eventually came around and found us, looking for a substantial donation – many times the actual cost of the tickets. Realizing that he had taught us a valuable lesson, we gave him half of what he was asking and I’m pretty sure everyone was happy with the arrangement. As the train violently jerked into gear and the scenery passed by, we sat back and came to understand that the train ride could be miserable and exhausting or beautiful and relaxing. For all subsequent train rides we decided that I would stand back and carry most of our luggage while Fern, smaller and more maneuverable, would dive in and claim seats for us. It also happened to be a nice opportunity for her to vent some of the frustration that built up while traveling in Sri Lanka. While we waited for the trains to arrive, Fern’s adrenaline spiked and she pumped herself up as if she were getting ready for boxing match. She was good at it, and her efforts rewarded both of us with some pretty special experiences.
So what’s so special about the trains in Sri Lanka? They have a lot of character and they’re a firmly rooted part of Sri Lankan culture. A fairly extensive rail network connects many parts of the island (built by the British during colonial times I believe) and in many cases it’s easier to get from city to city by train than by bus. I wouldn’t say it’s faster, in fact it’s usually slower but the overall experience is much nicer, as long as you have a seat. On our last train ride, however, we did not get a seat and the train was packed. It was extremely uncomfortable. I guess you can’t win them all. For one to two US dollars a ticket it was worth it to give the trains a shot.
The entire physical apparatus has a certain old world charm to it – the stations, the uniformed workers, the tracks, and most of all the cars themselves. These are not high tech computerized bullet trains or anywhere near as modern as the rail systems that big cities use for public transit around the world. This is straight out of the industrial revolution. Bulky steel carriages with open doors and windows grind and jerk their way over arteries of wood and steel. I wouldn’t call it a smooth ride by any means but compared to a bus ride it’s very comfortable. The terrain in Sri Lanka is pretty mountainous. Most of the bigger cities are on the coast but the trains cut right across the mountains in smooth lines to cross the island. A bus, on the other hand, has to follow very windy roads that switchback up or down the slopes, making the actual distance traveled much greater. The extra distance is compensated for with fast aggressive driving. Motion sickness pills were very helpful on the busses but they weren’t really needed on the trains.
One of the best things about the train rides in Sri Lanka is the scenery. On the outskirts of Colombo we passed through neighborhoods that we would most likely never see any other way. One could almost call it a shanty town and, not to glamorize poverty, there is definitely a certain beauty in the way people have resourcefully pieced together their homes out of all sorts of materials. We saw small towns that would never be a tourist destination. And probably the most impressive thing we saw was the lush green mountain landscape. Crisscrossing pathways of tea plantations hug the hillsides and distant mountain ridges are faintly visible through fog and low-lying clouds. Tropical jungle blends with cooler alpine flora. Things seem to move at a very tranquil pace.
There is an effect that these trains have on many of the passengers that give them an added charm. The whole thing is like a carnival ride and it brings out a playful childlike side of people. Certain lucky individuals sit in the open doorways and get the full intensity of the ride. Young couples hold each other and watch the world whiz by together. Groups of teenagers yell out the doors whenever the train goes through a tunnel to hear the echo. Looking outside along the length of the train, arms, legs, and smiling faces could be seen poking out from the windows and doors.
These train rides gave us a nice opportunity to unwind. The repetitive metallic clunking of the wheels turning against the tracks could lull a person into a trance. At its best it was almost a meditative experience. The mind could rest while the senses had a lot of interesting and beautiful things to absorb.
jim@snorkelbandits.com