Flight Time: 55 hours
Flight Miles: 26,129
Airports: 13
Countries: 5
Riding the train in Mumbai is, to say the least, stressful. The trains shuffle six million people around the city every day, and each day, ten of those people die. Like most of India, the train looks like something left over from the Industrial Revolution. It is called a subway, but it consists of a single above ground line. The passenger cars don’t even have closing doors to protect riders from falling out. It was rush hour, and Ryan, Daniel, Raman and I joined about 50 other people in jamming ourselves into a train car that was already overflowing with riders. We were packed in so tight that I only had enough space to put one foot on the ground. And of course, everyone was staring at us. Daniel is Nigerian, and Ryan and I are about as white as two guys can be, so we attracted a lot of attention. Even Raman was out of place, a woman in the men’s car. We were at best, a sight to see, at worst, a target for the opportunistic. It was an average winter day in Mumbai, about 90 degrees, which means it was sweltering in the train car, probably 30 degrees warmer inside than out. We pushed and squeezed over to a corner of the car which was ever so slightly less crowded. Raman even found a seat. This is when an older man started harassing Daniel. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he is the target of some pretty extreme racism almost daily. The man wouldn’t leave him alone, however, yelling at him in Hindi, and he eventually put his hand on Daniel’s face. Daniel pushed the old man away, and I began imagining how the Vindicator would write my obituary. Raman finally shoved her way over to ask the man what the problem was, and it turned out he was trying to offer Daniel his seat and make sure we were comfortable because we were guests in his country.
Across five countries on three continents I was overwhelmed by the kindness of others. Time and time again, complete strangers went out of their way to make sure I was accommodated.
In San Francisco, Cahill, Max, Ryan and Nick brought me in to their clan. They reminded me of my friends from Youngstown, which doesn’t happen very often. Raman was the best guide I could have asked for in Mumbai, arguing with taxi drivers that tried to rip me off and ordering massive feasts at restaurants where I couldn’t read the menu. Daniel is a great person, one of those genuine individuals you immediately find yourself trusting. Scott and Fumi introduced me to their family in Sapporo. Scott’s aunt treated me to her favorite Korean BBQ restaurant, a hole in the wall in the suburbs of Sapporo which was absolutely delicious. Hitomi allowed me to crash her birthday party. Andy made sure I had a Tokyo karaoke experience that I will never forget. Chae-lin let me invade her life and take Mike away from her for a week. Ethan, Donald and Vincent invited me into their world of bottle service and VIP tables in Beijing. Remarkably, I didn’t know a single one of these people before I left.
I was only able to make this trip because I am lucky enough to have friends living all around the world. Christy has been on the West Coast for five years now. I still wish she never left, but it is awesome having someone in San Francisco willing to give up her bed for me every night for two weeks. I am extremely impressed by Ryan living in Mumbai, even more so after visiting and seeing it firsthand. His adventurism inspires me to get off my ass and do the things I’ve always wanted to do. Joe is well on his way to being a titan of the Asian Markets, but I hope he and Caitlin make their way back to the states soon. Mike is living the good life in Beijing. It is only a matter of time until he gets one of his business ventures off the ground.
I’ve thought about Japan a lot since getting back. I found out about the earthquake not by turning on the news, but because a new friend I made while there wrote on Facebook that she was stranded in a train station. I was in that very train station not even three weeks earlier. It is a beautiful country with wonderful people, and I have a hard time believing such destruction and suffering is happening there.
I went in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in San Francisco. I drank the water, ate curried brains and road the train in Mumbai. I sang karaoke, ate whale sushi and fell asleep on the JAL and still found my way home in Tokyo. I road an electric bike through the streets of Beijing, was the only white person on the subway, gave directions to taxi drivers that spoke no English and climbed the great wall.
I thought I would get tired. I thought I would run out of money. I thought I would get fed up with not being able to read a menu or ask for directions. I thought I would despise my backpack and its meager contents. I thought I would want to go home. None of this happened. The only regret I have is that I didn’t get to see Adam in Hawaii and Mike in Kenya. I want to keep going.
