Night Train

I have heard about this night train from everyone in Gura Humorului. It is the only way to get to Bucharest, they say. It is a direct train and, indeed, the only one that goes straight through town without changing trains. The other option is to take a train to Suceava and then there are several afternoon trains. The scheduled times won't work for getting to Bucuresti this time though. I will take this train to the Fulbright meeting this weekend.

You can not buy a ticket until 24 hours before the train leaves. This is rather frustrating as I am used to knowing what I will be doing a bit sooner. I have to alert those at the other end who are picking me up as to which train I will be on. It is frustrating to have to wait so long to make plans. Things don't always work out the way they ought to. Today there is a news report of a woman being raped and thrown from the train. (I am not making this up!) Maybe a sleeper in first class is the way to go as there are locks on those doors.

The train leaves at midnight. I am packed and ready to go. Bogdan takes me to the station. He is such a great guy. He says the car I have will be at the front of the train and so we trot all the way to one end of the platform to wait. Soon we fell the rumble and hear the engine as it comes into the station. It stops and we approach the last car. This is the last car and now we have to race to the other end of the train. I am wearing sensible heels. Even these are not good for train stations. Bogdan is sprinting for the other end of the train and I am doing my best. If I could actually see the pavement it would be easier but I am afraid I will hit a pothole on the platform and go sprawling. We reach the end and there is a little lady being nearly pushed up into the car. Bogdan has already put my luggage aboard. The train is starting to move. I catch hold of the grab bars and gain purchase of the first metal rung and get aboard. I turn to wave to Bogdan but we are already out of the station.

I roll my suitcase to the cabin that matches my ticket number. There are already two men in there. I am not sure this is going to be a good idea. The conductor arrives to straighten it out and it turns out that I am in the next car. I toddle down through the narrow passageway into the other car. Walking across the netherworld where the cars are connected is an odd sensation. I finally find the car I am really assigned to. This turns out to be a couchette. I have heard about these. Some say they are a fabulous way to travel and others say nay. There are two people sleeping in the lower bunks and a girl arranging one of the upper bunks. She is a student and offers to show me what to do. I am SO relieved. Although none of this is particularly difficult, it is all very new and different. So much to learn.

About this tine the conductor comes by to take my ticket. Always before on trains the conductor has punched my ticket but she wants to take mine. I need it for the IRS. She tells me she will return it in the morning and so I hand it over. Very strange.

After my bunkmate gets her bunk organized she offers to go get my bedding. She returns with sheets and a pillow case sealed in plastic. The mattress is a metal plate covered in naughahide. Soft is not an option. The bottom sheet is cut to exactly cover the mattress and no more. It does not tuck in, only lay on top. There will be no rolling around or I will be lying directly on the icky naughahide. Then the blanket fits inside the duvet cover and the pillow after that. Keep in mind that nowhere is it more than twenty-four inches wide. This process requires intricate maneuvering to get everything where it needs to go in the right order. The lady under my bunk is rather grumpy about the noises we are making. I don't really blame her as it is after 1am when we finally climb up onto our bunks.

It turns out that my bunkmate is a medical student who grew up in Bucuresti whose grandmother is my next door neighbor in Manastirea Humorului. She has been there the whole time I have but we have never met. I was introduced to her grandmother earlier but my Romanian is still very rudimentary and so we have not really spoken. We talk for awhile about her plans and mine. Finally, it is late and our eyes close. I find that an hour is about as long as I can rest. I lay there trying to find a comfortable position. The bunk is short and narrow. My overnight bag is at the end and it is as hard as a rock. There is a seam that runs around the whole thing about two inches in from the edge making the useable area even narrower. I can't find a light to read with, although I can't sit up anyway in these cramped quarters. This is probably going to be my one and only ride in this kind of car.

At five in the morning, I give up. This is not for tall people, or people who get up early. I want to be up and about but I don't want to awaken anyone. And where am I going to go? The hallway is 24 inches wide also and so every time someone comes along I would have to move back into the compartment. This is definitely not made for those of us who do not need eight hours of sleep. Finally, the dawn arrives and everyone starts to get moving. They all leave with their kitbags and go somewhere to get presentable. I am not sure where they have gone because it certainly cannot be the facilities at the end of the car. They are beyond disgusting. Now it is the dismantling of the bed. Fold the sheets and return the pillows and blankets to the overhead shelf. The sheets must be returned to the conductor who then returns the ticket that the IRS will want to see. There are so many people on this train that it is difficult to get to the other end of the car to do this and then back with my bag in tow. I hear that theft on the trains is a big industry so I am reticent to leave mine unattended. It has my laptop in it and that would be a devastating loss.

Now there is a rush for the door. Everyone has plastic bags and duffels. It is so crowded. I will wait until the end as the train is not going anywhere for a while. They have to change the plaques on each car before it will leave again. I finally get off the train and am accosted by a number of men and boys who want to help me. I am quite capable. It costs me a leu to leave my bag with the lady at the top of the steps. I receive two squares of brown crepe paper and head down the stairs to a clean restroom. I have slept in the suit I will be wearing to meet the American Ambassador. I do what I can in the restroom. I will pass for human and so it is upstairs to the main level, across the station and then down to the Underground.

I have thoroughly enjoyed the daytime trains so it must be the couchette and I will avoid it in the future. I have yet to experience first class travel. It is not supposed to be much more but each time I ask for a ticket and say first class or wiggle my index finger, I seem to only get second class. There must be something wrong with my approach. I will have to figure out how to say first class.