When there is one small problem, it's usually followed by a herd of others and optimism is easier preached than practiced. Five minutes before I was supposed to leave for work, we called the cab company and they told us a mechanical breakdown would prevent them from coming. Work is an hour away in normal traffic, and I needed alternate transport, fast.
We called cabs and cars for a good hour and a half before finally one pulled through. I reached work late and paid double what I usually pay for a car that was nicer than usual by a small margin. Small irritations followed by more.
I worked on a spreadsheet at work today chronicling all government schemes related to water and sanitation, their activities and efficacy. It's satisfying busy office work and I like it, but I'm glad I'll be done with it tomorrow and on to more analysis!
Because I had arrived at work late, I left at 6:30, staying an hour longer than usual. The cab driver, who had promised to be waiting, was not there. The office closed in half an hour and I was a great distance from home on a slowly darkening street standing next to a security guard with whom I shared no common language.
Standing there I noticed this beautiful bookstore across the street, as well as a small women's health and fitness center. I'll have to come early one day and check them out...
Instead of calling another cab and waiting another hour for it to arrive, I hailed a passing auto rickshaw. The driver was entirely unwilling to take me as far as home, but I offered to pay him far more than the regular price (still less than the price of a cab) so he consented. I knew it would take me longer and that the ride would be less pleasant, but it was the lesser of two evils. And I didn't regret it at all! Autos are frightening sometimes in a 'grab on to your seat and start believing in God' kind of way, but they're also more fun than cabs.
In cabs, you're bubbled in. Windows rolled up, stale air and everything safely behind a screen. In an auto, a tiny three-wheeler without doors, I feel like I'm part of this great parade, somehow together with everyone else in autos and on motorbikes and walking along the street. Everyone is curious about the other people in this parade and looking out from the auto there are eyes peering at you from the next rickshaw and you peer back, wondering about their life.
We were halted in a mini traffic jam and my auto driver turned around to ask me directions. As I was giving them, the man on the motorbike next to us turned to listen and when I was done he leaned in and smiled and told me he lived nearby (strange anywhere but India).
This driver was such a character. He was a tiny man barely bigger than me, and he loved that his vehicle didn't have doors because it meant he could spit merely by turning his head. The weak little auto had no other redeeming qualities. It protested gassily the entire way home and once, stopped completely so that we were standstill in the middle of surging traffic. Luckily he got it started again.
But this spitting, he had down to an art. He sat permanently tilted to the right, hunched and always ready to coax up saliva. When he spat, it was a dark brown that looked sickly to me. We pulled up next to another auto at one point though, and he chatted with the other driver before passing him a wad of chewing tobacco and then I knew where the brown spit came from.
On the route from work to home, I pass St. John's Hospital, where I was born. It is the smallest thing but every day I think about how the road I'm driving on is the first road I ever rode along, from the hospital to home, years and years ago and the thought always comforts me.
Across the street from St. John's is a small slum of only 4 dwellings, each barely larger than a port-a-potty. They are made of corrugated aluminum siding and filled with far too many people and on top of each is a large dish so they can watch quality television. I tried to get a picture but it was dark...
I held tightly to my bags in the auto, because I remember once when I was about 8 years old and had a bag of books with me in a rickshaw in the rain. The books fell out along the way and the childhood disappointment stayed with me. Since then I'm always paranoid about everything just falling out on the roadside.
Upon reaching home, the auto driver demanded more than we had initially agreed upon. It was dark and he stopped a little bit away from the apartment, surrounded by other auto drivers, and there wasn't really a safe way for me to disagree. Cost-wise it didn't matter too much- it ended up costing the same as a cab, but I hated the feeling of being put in an uncomfortable situation to force me to give up the money that I was planning on giving him for his trouble anyways.
In other unrelated news,
Why You Should Care About Cricket
My dad emailed it to me earlier and it's fantastically written, and explains the allure of the sport well to those who don't have a love of wickets in their blood.
AND, you should all read a book called "Banana"- if you've heard about the books 'Sugar' and 'Salt', Banana is similarly about the history and conflict surrounding the fruit. We have this teeny tiny bananas here, barely two inches long, and they're absolutely delicious. And the book is fascinating.
In summary, today was all about finding bright sides for me. Here I am with some inexplicable bug bites on my foot, my whole day spent at work and miserable transportation drama. But I got to be a part of this tremendous road conversation that is India, noticed so much, had great food and plenty of material to post today. And then I got to come home to Joanna and my family for lovely comfortable times!
Note: the sink was leaking, so we called a plumber to change the pipe fittings. He removed our pipe, discovered he didn't have the right pipe fitting and left...without replacing our old pipe. So now you turn on the tap and the water comes right out the bottom of the sink! That's an adventure. Also, Indian Listerine has twice the sting of the American version, and I swear it can't be normal for it to hurt that badly...
I also got to skype with Jamie, which was so great, and blitz some amazing friends from home, making me super nostalgic. Missing people is hard! My love and thoughts are with everyone.
We called cabs and cars for a good hour and a half before finally one pulled through. I reached work late and paid double what I usually pay for a car that was nicer than usual by a small margin. Small irritations followed by more.
I worked on a spreadsheet at work today chronicling all government schemes related to water and sanitation, their activities and efficacy. It's satisfying busy office work and I like it, but I'm glad I'll be done with it tomorrow and on to more analysis!
Because I had arrived at work late, I left at 6:30, staying an hour longer than usual. The cab driver, who had promised to be waiting, was not there. The office closed in half an hour and I was a great distance from home on a slowly darkening street standing next to a security guard with whom I shared no common language.
Standing there I noticed this beautiful bookstore across the street, as well as a small women's health and fitness center. I'll have to come early one day and check them out...
Instead of calling another cab and waiting another hour for it to arrive, I hailed a passing auto rickshaw. The driver was entirely unwilling to take me as far as home, but I offered to pay him far more than the regular price (still less than the price of a cab) so he consented. I knew it would take me longer and that the ride would be less pleasant, but it was the lesser of two evils. And I didn't regret it at all! Autos are frightening sometimes in a 'grab on to your seat and start believing in God' kind of way, but they're also more fun than cabs.
Photo courtesy of Joanna Schneider
In cabs, you're bubbled in. Windows rolled up, stale air and everything safely behind a screen. In an auto, a tiny three-wheeler without doors, I feel like I'm part of this great parade, somehow together with everyone else in autos and on motorbikes and walking along the street. Everyone is curious about the other people in this parade and looking out from the auto there are eyes peering at you from the next rickshaw and you peer back, wondering about their life.
We were halted in a mini traffic jam and my auto driver turned around to ask me directions. As I was giving them, the man on the motorbike next to us turned to listen and when I was done he leaned in and smiled and told me he lived nearby (strange anywhere but India).
This driver was such a character. He was a tiny man barely bigger than me, and he loved that his vehicle didn't have doors because it meant he could spit merely by turning his head. The weak little auto had no other redeeming qualities. It protested gassily the entire way home and once, stopped completely so that we were standstill in the middle of surging traffic. Luckily he got it started again.
But this spitting, he had down to an art. He sat permanently tilted to the right, hunched and always ready to coax up saliva. When he spat, it was a dark brown that looked sickly to me. We pulled up next to another auto at one point though, and he chatted with the other driver before passing him a wad of chewing tobacco and then I knew where the brown spit came from.
On the route from work to home, I pass St. John's Hospital, where I was born. It is the smallest thing but every day I think about how the road I'm driving on is the first road I ever rode along, from the hospital to home, years and years ago and the thought always comforts me.
Across the street from St. John's is a small slum of only 4 dwellings, each barely larger than a port-a-potty. They are made of corrugated aluminum siding and filled with far too many people and on top of each is a large dish so they can watch quality television. I tried to get a picture but it was dark...
I held tightly to my bags in the auto, because I remember once when I was about 8 years old and had a bag of books with me in a rickshaw in the rain. The books fell out along the way and the childhood disappointment stayed with me. Since then I'm always paranoid about everything just falling out on the roadside.
Upon reaching home, the auto driver demanded more than we had initially agreed upon. It was dark and he stopped a little bit away from the apartment, surrounded by other auto drivers, and there wasn't really a safe way for me to disagree. Cost-wise it didn't matter too much- it ended up costing the same as a cab, but I hated the feeling of being put in an uncomfortable situation to force me to give up the money that I was planning on giving him for his trouble anyways.
In other unrelated news,
Why You Should Care About Cricket
My dad emailed it to me earlier and it's fantastically written, and explains the allure of the sport well to those who don't have a love of wickets in their blood.
AND, you should all read a book called "Banana"- if you've heard about the books 'Sugar' and 'Salt', Banana is similarly about the history and conflict surrounding the fruit. We have this teeny tiny bananas here, barely two inches long, and they're absolutely delicious. And the book is fascinating.
In summary, today was all about finding bright sides for me. Here I am with some inexplicable bug bites on my foot, my whole day spent at work and miserable transportation drama. But I got to be a part of this tremendous road conversation that is India, noticed so much, had great food and plenty of material to post today. And then I got to come home to Joanna and my family for lovely comfortable times!
Note: the sink was leaking, so we called a plumber to change the pipe fittings. He removed our pipe, discovered he didn't have the right pipe fitting and left...without replacing our old pipe. So now you turn on the tap and the water comes right out the bottom of the sink! That's an adventure. Also, Indian Listerine has twice the sting of the American version, and I swear it can't be normal for it to hurt that badly...
I also got to skype with Jamie, which was so great, and blitz some amazing friends from home, making me super nostalgic. Missing people is hard! My love and thoughts are with everyone.
Things have a way of clustering - problems and good things and even mundane things like cars in traffic - good that you took it all in your stride! Good learning there with the auto driver - next time you will have one up on them for sure.
ReplyDeleteI just remembered something about you - as a child you had this remarkable ability to put a positive spin on everything, so if you were told you could not have something, you would rephrase it to say something that might allow the possibility to let you have it in the future.
ReplyDeleteWow , you describe things so vividly ! I love reading your blogs .You are my favourite author !!And the tiny bundle who rode with me from St.John's !!
ReplyDelete