18th February 2007 Day Eleven Sunday - Raging Bulls & Tickets! The tunes from last night must have given me maha energy! Despite a lazy waking up, I got into pool and managed to clock 30 laps in just under 28mins! Considering I was struggling to do 10 laps, 10 days ago I was fairly chuffed! On Sundays very few things remain open here, the one thing that does however is the Train Station, but only in the morning! I was itching to leave India and so I'd committed to getting my train ticket back to Bombay today, being Sunday the reservation hall shouldn't be {too} crowded! Since this is India, the most simplest of tasks take forever and you can only really budget to complete one task per day, that leaves enough buffer room for the stupidity that you'll come across!! Quickly Phutta-phutting over to the station at the bottom of Madgoan, whilst keeping my eyes peeled for those cash hungry policemen, I reached the station without any worries. As you enter any train station in India, you enter the mayhem of the {Indian Lifestyle}, enmass, as you enter the Reservation Office you come face to face with the bureaucracy and paper pushing side of India. Within the halls there are several none-sequentially numbered counters, painted above each are the creterior you need to fill in order to queue there. On one side of the hall is a glass partition with is labled with the "Chief Reservation Supervision's Office", and on the back wall are the painted Timetables for trains passing through. Somewhere about this place will also be a sign saying the "Complaint & Suggestion Book is available with the supervisor". On the surface it seems fairly order and functional. Fill the seats with Indians and the hall with hundreds of these morons and you've got mal-functioning carnage! Indians cannot Queue!. They don't know the meaning of the word, they all push infront and huddle around the small window counter, arms stretching in trying to get in first! They also don't pay any attention to the layout & the order of the place, they'll try their luck at any counter, even though it says only certain counters are for certain transactions! What makes it worse, the ticket clerks perpetuate this chaos by actually reacting to the flailing arms and stupid requests, so the idiots on the other side of the counter begin to believe that push and shoving works!! Personal space is at a premium in India, if you leave a little bit of a gap between you and the person ahead, sure enough 5 people will try and push in front! The staffing in these places is a joke as well, half the counters are unmanned, whilst the rest are crowded with people sitting around, drinking tea, talking and doing anything but the work they should be doing! They create mounds of unnecessary paper work by filling out - by hand- loads of ledgers that then get typed into the one computer that none of them know how to use! Not to forget that half of these people on the counter are just the friends of the people working there and are just there for a chat!! The {{"Chief Supervisor"}} is usually another jobs worth who prances around doing nothing and when he does have to confirm or validate a ticket, he makes a meal out of such a simple procedure!! On good days they start at 10am and finish at 16:00 with a four hour lunch break in between! All-in-all it's a wonder that it functions at all, but as a 'operation' it's productivity is hardly off the ground!! The larger the station the more complex the operation, in Mumbai the set up was like this: In order to actually purchase a ticket, you need to get a form (Counter Number 1), then get it stamped (Counter Number 2) with your processing number. I tried doing this once and there was 1000 people between the processed Number and my number!! Then you fill in the form, wait your turn, get to the counter check the availability and then pay and go. Its a long winded process, but somehow it works! A lot of the time, these counters are filled with people asking questions about trains over the shoulder of the person in front being served! - don't forget the information is painted on the back walls, but its done is such an overly complex way not many people can understand it, let alone stupid Indians! However, if you hold a foreign passport there is a special counter for "Foreigners, Freedom Fights, Army & Police Personal, OAP & Ladies!" that you stroll up to and they'll help with the purchase...or that's the theory behind it! I'd made the mistake of wearing my (I only have one!) shirt this morning, to the outside world I now looked like an Indian-Indian, which means they treat you as rough as the next. I'd already purchased the timetables, and I knew all I wanted to about my train, it was to be a simple transaction with no faffing. I'd nabbed a few forms, filled them in and had been directed to the {Foreigners Counter} - incidentally it was one of four counters open, the others staff were there but just couldn't be bothered to work! In the queue there were four scrawny men ahead of me plus the tall European Girl at the counter. These twiglet men were all to afraid to crowd the girl and kept a distance from here. As soon as she moved to the side, 2 of them pounced on the counter elbows viaing for the prominent window position. This created a half foot gap between me and the guy in front, which I left. The little runt over my should swarks at me and asks {if I'm queuing or no}t, I said yes, he said {'well move forward or someone will take your place'}. I shuffled a few centimeters forwarded, turned, looked at him, smirked and said {is that better!?} This guy was as impatient as the rest of them! As one of the guys at the front was directed to another counter, the second squared up to the window and the two in front jostled in for position behind them. It was hot enough as it was, I had no need to increase my body temperature with close proximately to the guy ahead of me, so I maintained my moderate distance. The little shite behind me, thought otherwise! Despite me standing with my elbows out in a deliberate manner to stop people going ahead of me, he still worked his way round and stood in front of me, in the 4cms gap that was there!! I'd no idea what was going throw his mind, and why he thought he could even get away with it - whatever the reason, he needed bringing down a peg or two! Using just two fingers and a thumb I pitched the back of his twiglet neck and dragged him back alongside me. Then using my poshest & clearest English, I asked him what his problem was! He was trying to avoid eye contact, so I put myself right in his face, and slowly but surely talked to him about the error of his ways and how much of an idiot he was being! He was noticeably uneasy about being spoken to like a child, but he didn't know what to do or how to reply!! As I dropped him back behind me in the 'queue' he was less pesky, maybe he thought I was an Indian and wasn't expected to be talked down to, let alone be caught by the Vulcan Death claw pinch!! One by one, the Counter clerk was directing each person to the next counter. When it was my turn, I made sure pesky twiglet-rat-boy was well behind and handed over my form. The first thing the clerk said (without looking at the form): {{ "Go to Counter Number 3!"}} {"Well, check if is there availability on this train?"} Here reluctantly punched at the keyboard. {{"Yes, now go to counter Number 3"}} {"No I want this ticket on the Foreign Tourist Quota!"} {{"Yes, just you go to Number 3, there you'll get it"}} {"No. Give me this ticket on the Tourist quota."} {{"You have to be foreign. Its a foreigners quota"}} {"I know, otherwise I wouldn't have asked for it otherwise!. So give me the ticket"} {{"You go to Counter 3"}} {"I'm not Indian! Give me this ticket!"} {{"!!! Not?! Passport!.....ah..... 300Rs!"}} Evidently he must have thought I was an Indian, despite the English I was using - it's this dam shirt, they all thing I'm a native! The guy was clearly annoyed at actually having to do work today, so very kindly he added his own "service tax" to the ticket. I later noticed the price on the ticket was printed as 293Rs, when he gave me change for a {{300Rs}} ticket! How kind and considerate of him!! You get tired of dealing with these idiots and sometimes its not worth the hassle to go back and make a fuss about it! I should have added a comment in the "Suggestions Book", but I doubt it even exists, or it would ever be acted upon! Boys and Toys. The odometer on the bike was approaching that magic number, a number that it would be a sin to miss and not capture the moment. 3696.9kms! I was elated! The smile it brought to my face was enough to erase the stupidness of the train station episode!! All this excitement was getting too much for me so I headed down to the beach for a phat old Steak, not thinking twice about where I'd parked my bike. Apparently I'd been very rude an parked my bike in the exact same place where a couple of Crows usually sit, fight, peck at the ground and crap! It didn't bother them too much, instead they carried on as usually on the seat of my bike, leaving their talon prints, and taking a peck out of the seat before crapping over the seat and front of the bike! Phuta-phutting up that little road I saw a crowd of people and a cluster of parked bikes ahead. A large gathering of people, loads of pulled up bikes & cars and all of this on a 'quite' Sunday! - this could be anything really! When in Rome...I parked my bike amongst the dozens already there (always parking it in reverse to make it easy to spot and better for a quick get away!) and followed the crowd. Just of the road, in a vacant plot of land was the reason for this gathering and the people climbing up anything for a better vantage point - a Bull Fight! The 'Bulls' were actually male water buffalo's that at first glance look like big skinny things. They're cumbersome beast and slowly plod about the place looking as docile as a stoned slug! You could hardly image these beasts doing much damage but they'd managed to psych them up (God knows how you'd wake one of these, let alone psych one up!) and the herders were behind them forcing them to butt each other. These two were locking horns much to the amusement of a crowd of enthusiastic on-lookers peering over from balconies, walls and looking down from the 3 palm trees on the plot of land. Every couple of seconds one of the two would be dosed in water that was being poured over them by little kids running in between the two. {{"Kuuuli, Kuuuli"}} The crowd had clearly picked its favorite as they chanted the name, the Bulls continued to dance around each other with their herders moving quicker and pushing the bulls together still. I've never been one for blood sports but it was quite compelling to watch. They both had their broad neck down and their noses were both just above the ground, opening up the top of their necks & their horns to the other Bull. With blood red eyes and skulls together they pushed around their bulk mass and tried to force the other one back. Often circling each other and going back and forth, but then a quick flick of the neck stabbed the tip of the horns into the neck of the other - drawing blood and cheers from the crowds! Judging by the ground and the state of the Bulls they must have been at it for a while. Scuffles in the dust, the crowd shifting from one side to the other trying to get out of the pair's way, it all started to get a bit repetitive after a while. This Kuli was clearly kicking the others ass, and it would only be a matter of mins before they'd stop - they was no reason to hang around, and more to move on before everyone got the same idea at once (obviously these fights are illegal and as soon as the police turn up everyone scarpers as quick as they can!) So as it was drawing to a close, I left and went further up the road. I'd stop to get something but then I hard a load of shouting and wailing behind me. Turning around I saw the same Bulls had escaped that plot of land and were now chasing each other up the road with their herders behind trying to catch them!! "Kuli" was obviously in a bad mood and was tossing it's head at the others backside causing all sorts of further wounds! These two beast are hoofing it down the road after each other, I've climb out the way a bit just to see them approach the crossroads at the same time as a motorcyclist! Crap! A hunk of metal wasn't going to stop all this momentum! I felt sorry for the cyclist as he turn the corner and came face to face with two charging Bulls! SMACK! He managed to leap off the ground and out the way as quickly as he was hit and the Bulls locked horns again!! The herders caught up and (somehow) separated the pair as they went of in different directions with a convoy of motorbikes following each! This was all too much excitement for me for one day - I spend the rest of the day cleaning the windows in the flat trying to recover (made harder still by the metal grills on them!) and counting my quickly vanishing cash!