A Nightmare Journey to India

A nightmare journey to India

This picture is for illustration purposes only

Whilst I was staying in Nepal I met many believers.

Local Christian pastors are hardly versed in the Scripture and they really need help from experienced pastors!

But since Christianity is almost outlawed in Nepal, hardly anyone comes to help.

It might happen that the whole church would have to move underground, like in North Korea, where the “freedom of religious belief” is an official promise, yet in truth Christianity is outlawed and Christians are intensely persecuted, and real believers meet to worship God in secret.

Kundalini is invading the church, and unfortunately inexperienced Nepali pastors know no difference between this evil spirit and the Holy Spirit, and interpret any spiritual manifestation as coming from God.

That is actually the mistake many people make – when they experience something other-worldly, they automatically assume it must have come from God.

The believers that I met in Nepal (mostly Americans, some Canadians and a few Nepalis) baptized me in Jesus’ name in a house that looked like a mansion (arranged by Jesus Himself?). After that they all stood around me and prayed for my successful evangelizing in India, as well as my journey and visa arrangement success. That day itself was incredible, including the baptism – maybe I’ll share a video of that day some time later!

When I came to the visa counter to submit my passport for the Indian visa the next day, the counter lady told that this time I would only get two months visa. I knew why – because I applied for an Indian visa numerous times from neighboring countries before. After her declaration of the length of time of my Indian stay, I accepted this Indian embassy decision and said to myself that if it was God’s will, so be it.

The next day I come to collect my stamped passport, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing – a visa given for the duration of four months! That was a real miracle, since to get four months whilst often applying for such a visa from neighboring countries is almost unknown. The standard issued visa duration time is one, two or three months. So the Christian believers’ prayers definitely worked!

The Long Journey Starts

No longer will I book flight tickets to neighboring countries (unless there’s no other way) but will travel by land, to stretch my savings and readers’ donations as much as possible for the evangelizing work. So I bought a ticket in Kathmandu to Sunauli border in order to enter India by land.

Prior to that I also booked a few train journeys within India, but due to many haters as a result of being saved by Jesus I cannot let any readers know the exact location(s) of my travel.

The bus to the border was excruciatingly slow – with plenty of unnecessary long stops. I think the bus stopped three times only to refuel, without adding bathroom and meal stops. It seemed that those people on the bus would get hungry every few hours as all of them gladly ate every time the bus stopped!

And then suddenly, when the eight hours have passed which the bus driver told was the duration of the journey, the ticket person told it’s three hours more to go! Thankfully I started a conversation with a nearby sitting Nepali man looking a little more business-like, to find out an exact time of arrival to Sunauli. After some conversation in Nepali with the bus driver, the Nepali man declared to me that the bus wasn’t going there! So why was my bus ticket issued for Sunauli? I guess this will remain a mystery.

Fortunately, at that time the bus again stopped for some reason, and right next to it was the bus that went to the Sunauli border! So the bus driver quickly waived for that other bus driver to wait, and helped me to transfer my bag to that crowded public bus, and even paid my fare, probably feeling guilty for misleading me about where the bus was headed.

So now I was on my way to what I hoped to be the real Sunauli border, knowing that I would definitely miss my first train booking because it was getting quite late.

The bus indeed dropped me relatively close to the border, and there I was faced with two choices to make it to the border – to hire an alcohol-smelling unpleasant looking bicycle rickshaw rider who demanded an overpriced fare, or an alcohol smelling more acceptably looking rider who gave me a good price. Of course, I chose the latter.

When he was taking me to the border he tried to make a small talk but I stayed non-talkative since some Indian men wrongly interpret chattiness in women. But his character turned out to be simple and lovely, and I quietly blessed him in Jesus’ name, and said a small prayer in the hope that he would be delivered from the demon of alcoholism.

He dropped me right at the door of the immigration department, and the staff there processed my leaving Nepal formalities within a few minutes.

In India

Back to India! From the border, I walked to find a bus that would take me to Gorakhpur – the nearest hub town hundred kilometers away, where I was supposed to take the now missed train, and hoped therefore to catch a bus headed for Delhi.

It was already getting late but I didn’t worry about it. I found that since getting the Holy Spirit I’m much more relaxed and trusting that all would eventually work out.

I spotted an old huge government bus that was heading to the hub town and boarded it. It was supposed to reach Gorakhpur in two hours, but it took around four due to the traffic. The journey was pleasant, apart from a few men staring (this is usual in India) and one guy purposefully stepping on my shoe for me to pay attention to him – here guys think that such an obvious attempt isn’t obvious at all, but that it’s actually smart.

When I finally arrived to the main city, the bus dropped me very close to the train station; so happily I was able to find a still operating ATM (since most ATMs get shut in the evening) to withdraw Indian money to pay for the long bus trip to Delhi.

I wasn’t able to withdraw any money from my two cards, and asked other people waiting in line to see if they could do it. One man told that only in amounts starting from the digit two can people withdraw money from now on (welcome to India!). So I entered into the cash machine 2,000 rupees amount, and it did indeed dispense the money.

I had a great and simple meal near the train station since I was starving. They treated me like a royalty there, which was strange since I looked like a hippie with my long warm shawl, dusty jeans and sandals.

The food was good and cheap. Here’s a picture of what I ate the first time I entered the land of India – dal, curd and rice:

Dal, curd and rice

When I left the restaurant, I easily found the bus headed to Delhi and it left a few minutes after my boarding. The bus had no berths – only seats; but seats were spacious – I’m able to travel overnight on such buses and get some sleep too.

On the Way to Delhi

The bus had only around ten passengers at the start – all men. When the bus started moving, the ticket person approached me for the collection of the ticket money. I gave the agreed with the driver 1,300 rupees. He looked at the money and told that the cost was actually 2,000.

I knew that he was lying because most foreigners are lied to in India in this way. I also told him that I knew that the good private buses with berths are priced around 1,700 rupees per seat, so obviously for the government bus with no such berths the price would be much lower.

This made him very quickly change the story and he now told me that the price was actually 1,500 rupees. Quite a sharp drop! I guess he was comfortable with lying so deliberately because the bus was already moving and it was dark, so he knew that I had no choice but to pay.

But since I’m a fighter for truth, he chose the wrong person to fool. I asked why the bus driver quoted 1,3000 rupees. To which he replied that the driver didn’t know the price! He probably took me for a very gullible person, or he simply didn’t care.

But what he said next got him into his own trap! He told that the government sets prices and that he cannot do anything about it, showing his hand-held bus ticketing machine. And of course this made me tell him that if he would give me the printed ticket with that price on it, I would pay it.

He printed it out and gave it to me hoping that I wouldn’t check what’s written on it! I of course carefully checked it, and behold – it had 388 rupees printed on it! When I pointed this out, he explained that he could only print the cost of one leg of a journey and that after we arrive at the indicated destination (Lucknow), he would be able to give the ticket with the price of the second leg of the journey.

To which I replied that if this was so, I would now pay the printed price of the first leg of the journey, and then, when he could give me the second ticket, I would pay the remaining price. This greatly displeased him and he still demanded the 1,500 rupees, but I told him that I knew the government rules and that he had to issue me with the ticket first and only then demand the money.

This left him with no choice but to unhappily comply and accept 400 rupees.

So that’s how the long journey to Delhi started. A single white female traveling on a government bus at night with a bunch of locals and Nepalis one of whom, now I knew, was totally unreliable.

The First Nightmare

At the back of the bus some men were making lots of noise and when I smelled cigarette smoke, I told them not to smoke on the bus. When I looked at them I realized that those were actually bus employees on duty that were smoking, and what I realized soon after was even worse – that they were not only smoking, but drinking alcohol too! I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing, and the strangest thing was, other passengers were completely fine with it!

I opened my bus window since I’d rather freeze than to breathe poison, and when the bus got cold because of the opened window the drunkards told me to close it. I refused to do so until all the poisonous smoke was out of the bus. This got some of them annoyed and they tried to talk to me but I had my shawl on my head hoping that they would think that I was asleep, since the last thing I wanted to do was to reason with drunk local men whilst as a single female on the bus at night.

One drunkard got really nasty and started making weird kissing sounds close to me, which really creeped me out. Then he took a seat right behind me and started talking to me in a drunken slur. I think he was trying to explain what a great guy he was or something like that.

Since those drunken people acted like beasts, and I know what happens when street dogs unify, I was really afraid that the other drunkards seeing his attempts to chat me up would join in and something much worse would develop.

Indian men are known for really, really inhumane rape attacks on women – the misogynous evil spirit of Hinduism and Islam combined – like raping and killing a woman on a public bus in the middle of the day in Delhi.

Nobody helped her – the result of the evil religious doctrines of non-attachment to anything that’s happening and going with the flow. This passivity is perfectly explained at the start of this video (which is worth watching full-length, by the way):

So this started really bothering me, especially noticing how entirely passive other passenger men were about it – they pretended not to see anything, and such creatures are called men! I would never hesitate to help out a fellow sister, but I guess when there’s no love of Christ dwelling in one’s heart such reasoning doesn’t enter one’s mind. Also, when there’s no Holy Spirit in a person he or she is much more likely to be a coward (since the Holy Spirit gives courage and power).

Knowing that there’s no escape for me, I started fervently praying to God the Father in Jesus’ name to station many angels around me and inside the bus, especially surrounding the drunkard that made weird kissing noises. And it absolutely worked! After a few minutes that drunkard got annoyed because I didn’t respond to his mumble. He moved to the front of the bus, and then went to the driver’s cabin and lay down there to sleep! Other drunkards for some reason decided to join him in the cabin! From that moment on nobody bothered me! Hallelujah! Blessed is the Living God!

But oh, how I wish this would be the worst thing that happened on the bus – it wasn’t!

The Second Nightmare

The journey went very well for a while, until, deep in the night, the bus driver got tired and changed shifts… with that very drunkard who talked with a slur with me!

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing with my own eyes! He stopped the bus, awoke the drunkard and started shouting at him. When the drunkard became conscious enough of what was happening, the bus driver forced him to take the bus driver’s seat, and so the drunkard started the engine, and then started driving, half the time looking at the road and the other half – at the first driver, replying to his angry accusations!

Out of the super passive audience of Nepalis and Indians, there arouse one man to express his disapproval with regards to what he had just witnessed. What I worked out he was saying in Hindi was that by making such a choice the first driver was putting everyone’s lives at risk.

This, however, failed to convince the first driver who seemed to care about his rest more than about the lives of the passengers. He continued resting, and to be even more comfortable, he left the drunkard alone in the cabin, locked the door, and took the passengers seat to rest!

Since the intellectual appeal of the Nepali man didn’t work, I raised my voice of disapproval trying to emotionally appeal to the resting driver that what he had just done was unpardonable. Although my voice was loud and it got the attention of all the passengers, the resting driver didn’t react. He was happily resting.

What to do? Since everyone was so passive about it except for one Nepali man and myself, I was thinking that maybe I would need to ask the bus driver to stop and I would simply leave. But I was in the middle of nowhere, on some highway deep in the night, and a white woman walking alone on an Indian highway at night would definitely be taken for a prostitute, as she sometimes is even in the middle of the day wearing conservative clothes; so making such a choice would be just as dangerous as staying on the bus. I was stuck!

I quickly came up with the plan of possible escape – to keep watching through my opened window for any sign of police or police vehicles, and when spotted, to intensely wave at them in the hope of them getting the message and stopping the bus. But to my disappointment, there were no police vehicles around!

The drunkard nearly escaped scratching the side of a fast-driving van, and then swerved on the side to touch the branches of the alongside planted trees! He was making sharp turns and would suddenly break, and then would go fast through the speed bumps! He once stopped for no reason in the middle of the highway, causing other vehicles to sharply break or take over the bus with beeping sounds. All passengers were on the tips of their seats, probably wondering when they would breathe their last.

And then the first driver came to me asking if he could shut my window, as it was getting cold in the bus because of it. I absolutely refused to do so, and here’s what I told him (more or less):

I won’t close the window because it’s my emergency exit window in case the bus crashes! How could you allow a drunk person to drive? (At this point my voice is getting emotional and sorrowful. A few hours before a few more people boarded the bus, including a young family). There’s a child on the bus – don’t you care that he could be killed? Don’t you care that this drunkard could kill all on board? How can you allow such a thing to take place?

My own words made me so emotional that I started to sob really loud, getting everyone’s attention. I knew it wasn’t my emotion though – but from the Holy Spirit! He was orchestrating the whole thing and he knew what he was doing and where this was going to lead!

As the sobs got even louder, not wanting to witness the developing streams of tears in a woman (some men are truly allergic to it!), the first driver hastened to the cabin, asked the drunkard to stop the bus, and finally got behind the wheel! As soon as that happened, my loud emotional sobs stopped as unexpectedly as they started! I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing around me and in myself!

When the drunkard came out of the cabin, the same Nepali man accused him of mistreating me (or something like this – I know he was talking about me, but I couldn’t understand exactly what). The drunkard then came to talk to me and then I told him how he could, as a driver, drink on duty, putting the lives of so many people at risk.

I told I couldn’t believe how he could be so stupid (yes, I said exactly that – I was angry and loud, and of course all the bus heard it). I told him how he could treat me in a such a disgusting way, like making kissing noises. I think I told him that he was stupid quite a few times.

Then the ticket person approached me and attempted to lie that that drunkard wasn’t actually drinking, which is a totally psychopathic thing to do – trying to deny the exact thing that I observed. And so it came his time to hear my accusation of him.

I told the ticket person in front of all the passengers that he was a total liar and that he tried to cheat me and sell me a hugely overpriced ticket , and that I might report all of them to the police. This was very sobering to both of them (pun intended).

After this accusation the ticket person totally transformed – he went from being a callous and unemotional women hating liar, to a deceptively obedient and humble person. He printed out the second ticket and meekly gave it to me – it was around 840 rupees, so even less than 1,300 in total! I guess he got really frightened when I told that his dark deeds would be exposed to the authorities.

The bus driver got really tired after many hours of driving non stop (the journey to Delhi takes 17+ hours and he was already driving for around 9 hours) and thus when the drunkard sobered up enough after continuously sleeping, he had to replace the driver – there was no other person who could drive the bus.

Fortunately this second time it was obvious that he could drive us safely, as he made no swervings or harsh breaks. After observing him drive safely, I finally felt safe enough to take some much needed hours of sleep.

The Arrival

So now I’m in Delhi train station, waiting for my connecting train down south. These were my experiences so far, and since in my prayer I often ask God to use me mightily, He surely does. I think that maybe the Holy Spirit saved those passenger lives today. Because Jesus indeed saves.

And whilst I was thinking through those events, I realized that I convicted those three in charge of the bus, and I understood that it’s biblical! The Holy spirit does indeed convict:

And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment (…).

John 16:8

I just can’t believe how passive those Nepalis and Indians were on board. It’s to do with their religion – Hinduism and Buddhism. Their extreme poverty is to do with those religions too. Both of these religions encourage non-attachment to events, non-reaction, going with the flow. This is the new age doctrine as well.

This evil doctrine causes them to lose their lives or to remain non-reactive to negative events which they could easily turn to positive with some prayer and initiative. But now endless suffering is accepted and taken as one’s inescapable lot.

Finally, I’ll keep updating you on my experiences – I already got a chance to heal in Jesus’ name whilst in the train station, but about that – in the next blog post, as this one is getting too long already.

Have a blessed day, and please do leave a comment!

My long journey to South India