TICKET, TICKET !!!

Midnight, empty station at Nabadwip Dham - India. Three white tourists step out of the train in to an empty station with their whole life in their backpacks and fear in their eyes. Sounds like a movie, but at movies you have chips or popcorn, in reality - all we got is stinking socks and no idea what's going to happen next. We were told it is dangerous but we have no choice, because the train was late 5 hours and we must wait until morning to cross the mighty Ganga river. Whole town is quiet at night and that adds to the fear because we have yet not seen India at night, and right now we are deep deep in Wild east, where life goes on with or without you. As soon as we exit the train station I find myself squeezing my machete handle tighter as a group of Indians approach us to offer their services, appears that Rickshaws do drive at night after all. We manage to bargain the price and conditions to our favor. We all ride in a single rickshaw so as to not part and for a reasonable price, having in mind that they are the only ones working tonight. We sit down for the ride and four more guys jump on with us and it makes me wonder if that is for protection or to rob us. I have a smoke while we ride the dark Nabadwip Dham streets and can't believe my eyes. Communist flags are hanging all over the place, and even communist type of posters are on some walls, the next day Lauris explains that in India there even are deities that resemble or portray Lenin and Stalin, I will definitely get back to that later. On our ride, nobody says a word and we just ride in quiet fear waiting for the danger to show its face. Finally I see two silhouettes in the distance with sticks banging them against the ground and our rickshaw starts slowing down. I nearly piss my pants and start looking around waiting for ten more guys to jump out of the dark alleys and the party to begin. That doesn't happen, but instead those two figures seem to be some old guys with sticks who took up on them selves to patrol the streets heroically against troublemakers. Something like neighborhood watch, but less official. The only thing that suggests that are homemade arm bands that they wear as some kind of sign of authority. Since our rickshaw is motorbike operated in a quiet town it is the only troublemaker. The dialogue starts calm and nice and goes something like this: Old guy: - Ticket, ticket, mumbo jumbo abra cadabra ticket. Driver: - shlurpdy burpdy, ticket. Old guy: - Ticket, woof woof, hurl growl ticket, (shouts angrily) ! Me: - What ticket ? Lauris: - koki bilieta (translation from Lithuanian: what ticket)? Sveta: -... Old guy very angry: - BLA BLA BLA, TICKET! TICKET! Me: - Lauri duok jam belekoki bilieta, duok traukinio bilieta ir viskas. (*Just give him any ticket, give him the train ticket) Lauris takes out his used train tickets and gives them to the old man, who just smiles and starts walking away slowly investigating the worthless piece of paper. I am very confused and cant understand if its finally over, or if this is some grand scheme with full performance before the beat drops and our stuff disappears. Suddenly someone from our ride tells Lauris not to give him the tickets, off course after the fact that they have already changed hands, and Lauris reacts quickly jumping out of the rickshaw leaving his bag, I think to follow after, but remember that Sveta is still sitting on, and if I jump off its just a bunch of young guys, Sveta and all our stuff left on the ride - a great package, so I stay strapped to my backpack holding on to my cutting tool and wait for any sign of hostility towards us. In my eyes, as long as there is no sign of violence or people shouting straight in our face - all is fine, and I am ready to cut anything that moves because in the end, i promised my family and friends they will se me again. Old guy with the tickets is still walking away and Lauris runs to him and here we go again: Lauris: - Ticket, TICKET, TICKET !!! Me: - Palik tegul turi jis ta bilieta (* Leave him the ticket, let him have it) Old guy in satisfaction much like Smeagol from Lord of the rings: - Ah... ticket... ticket... Lauris swiftly jumps in front of the old guy and grabs the tickets out of his hands, turns back, and jumps back on the rickshaw addressing the driver, as if he was in any control of the situation: - Drive, drive. off course nobody does. This whole scene upsets the other old man who is a bit better built and apparently has more balls so he comes over to my side, right in front of me to talk to the driver. Old guy starts shouting, driver starts shouting, and they are both standing right in front of me so close that if he wished he could probably knock my teeth out with that stick of his. Since I have no idea what they are talking about, I just prepare myself for the ass whooping party that is probably about to happen. Now at this point Sveta is as quiet as a turtle and you can always know its serious if a woman of eastern european descent keeps quiet. Lauris is back on the rickshaw and probably happy to have his worthless tickets back, Driver and old guy is about to get in what seems to be a fatherly alfa male physical argument with a stick and that is going on for maybe 3 minutes while I try to look threatening by sitting up straight, but can't because if I do, my backpack does not reach the "seat" and I shiver like a leaf trying to hold my bag up and posture upright. So as I keep trembling I come to see the irony in this whole situation and just breathe in, breathe out, hunch my back, stop shivering and focus on the movements of the old man trying to foresee if I am about to get a piece of that stick or not and when is the proper time to go medieval berserk in blinded rage with my machete. Suddenly, out of the dark a well built young man, with glasses comes out. He is calm, he is tall, and he looks like he can read and even speak fluent English, in short - a problem solver. He comes up to us and I feel a relief that all this will soon be over as it is pretty clear now that this is not a set up, but an argument between the other two parties and I will get to keep my teeth and gear after all. All the drama starts cooling down and drivers friend takes the wheel, continuing to take us to our arranged destination, we are now 3 passengers and 3 drivers, so I feel a lot better about the distribution of power in our ride and start believing that all might just be ok after all. We finally arrive at a hotel of our second drivers choice leaving our first driver in the middle of the previous argument, but since its night, the hotel we arrive to is closed. A guy jumps off our fancy taxi and starts banging on the door and shouting at the second floor something in Hindi. I finally calm down a bit and start trusting the good intentions of our companions. With that thought a guy opens the door and shows us around the building to enter through the back door. We come in the building and follow the clerk upstairs and as we walk the corridor my attention goes to the fact that all the doors have padlocks hanging from outside. I make a joke that maybe, Hotel in Hindu means place for white tourists to be locked up and held against their will before they are eaten or traded. Nobody laughs. Again we negotiate heavily for the chance to stay all three in one room, the price and not giving our passports for him to write down our information. The guy just gives in and takes us to the room with a double bed, gives us the key and asks me to follow him downstairs for him to write down the passport information. It takes a while and as I am filling in the registry book I see my friends in the doorway, as they explain later they got worried and went to save me. We close our room door and start laughing at the situation, yet Lauris and Sveta barricade all their stuff in front of the door - like some loose items - clothing and a guitar would stop angry robbers from entering our room somehow. I finally get to shower off all those days of filth, repack my stuff for easy access and prepare fresh clothing for the morning and we all go to sleep, wondering why there are bars on our 3rd floor window, why does the sewage go right out to the back yard in the middle of a busy town and how is it that there are two knobs for water, but only cold water is working. A knock on the door wakes us up, and Mr guy is trying to explain something to me in my underwear, off course I understand he wants us to leave, but I keep shaking my head until he comes up with a brilliant sentence - check out nine, check out nine. I suppose repeating it twice gives the sentence proper weight and I try to negotiate that we paid for a night, and a night is 12 hours, or that we came in so late so he has to let us stay a bit longer, but he refuses to leave until i actually say OK, also twice. We get up, start packing and he returns three more times to show us out, but that's the good thing about being a tourist - all you need to do is smile and babble something in a nice manner as to not seem offensive but naive and stupid is acceptable, so we pack up, and go out to meet another day, since the only thing to do in our Journey is to cross the river and find the place we will be staying for the next 2 weeks. It is some kind of religious community that you have probably seen somewhere dancing around the streets chanting Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna. All i know is that Lauris and Sveta are devotees - whatever that means. There is a place for us to stay and free food where we are going, and I will not be required to convert, donate, give blood or sexualy please anybody in order to sleep, eat or survive honorably. What i witness when we arrive is a whole other story.