Indian buses range from full to packed like a sardine can, but with less ventilation. I was on my way to Qutub Minar in one of these mobile hell holes, asking around to find out exactly which incomplete stop was the one I needed, when I met a very helpful man named Nashin (right). He decided to come sightseeing with me and invited me into his home for a delicious lunch with his brother Basu (left) who works as a hotel chef.
The decidedly middle class pair speak excellent English and are a lot of fun, especially with their insights on life in India for the average joe. They're super friendly and even invited me to a family party in Bihar to celebrate Basu's upcoming wedding. We stayed up almost all night with their two roommates who all work late in the hotel industry---they share a cozy but cramped one bedroom apartment and whoever gets off work first gets the bed---and then I checked out of my guesthouse and groggily caught the 6 am bus to Agra.
3 comments:
sounds alsome.
good thing they happened to not be kidney thieves or rapists BECAUSE THEY JUST AS EASILY COULD HAVE BEEN
i hope you are exercising at least a micromodicum of caution
<3
ha ha! mamacita !! i SO loved that post!!
Well that was rather trusting of you. Glad it worked out well. It is always nice to meet good people. Nothing ventured... Blah blah you get the idea.
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