India: Trains

One of the single greatest phenomena I've experienced so far in India is riding the trains. As well as being a sensory overload, it offers a crash course in Indian society, economics, and geography.

A high degree of freedom from regulation has lead to a peculiar economic condition: because there are no barriers to boarding the trains (a ticket is really only required for a seat), and the absence of a dining cart creates demand, trains are constantly patrolled up and down by food and drink salesmen, who board the train at various stations as they please. This apparently chaotic laissez-faire phenomena can exhibit a pretty complex organisation at times: dinner orders taken early on in a 24 hour journey are phoned to a kitchen at a station further on down the line, and prepared to coincide with the trains arrival at that station.
The salesmen, as they walk up and down the carriages, advertise their product or products by chanting the names of their wares, the most common being the near-ubiquitous drone of 'chai...chai...chai' from the tea and coffee vendor. These chants add an extra layer to the aural experience, augmenting the staccato rhythm of the railway tracks, the intermittent blast of the horn, and the unexpected deafening that results when a train is met coming from the opposite direction.

This does have unfortunate environmental consequences (as often happens in India; economics trumps environment) - litter is generally disposed through the window, especially at major stations, where trains often stop for extended periods to allow salesmen ample time to restock and sell. This, together with the disposal of waste from the toilets, combines the function of a station with that of a landfill in many instances, a problem compounded by the destitution and poverty often located around the stations themselves.

The lack of regulation also leaves some issues of quality to be desired - I'm pretty sure the chicken in my chicken biryani was raw...