Need for Speed

Once you can give directions in a new place, and they're actually correct then you know you've settled in.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you all today, it's been a very, very uneventful week. And studying is basically to blame. Well, not blame exactly, it's not "studyings'" fault that I didn't have an eventful week.

Monday was, as I wrote in last week's post, Independence day. In 1947, on August 15th, India gained independence from the British. India was thus partitioned into India and Pakistan. People here do various things to celebrate Independence day. The parliament and other government buildings were so incredibly lit up, that the only comparison I can make is how Americans decorate their houses around the winter holidays.

Thursday was another holiday. It's called "Raksha Bandhan" and its a Hindu festival to celebrate the love and duty between brothers and sisters, related or not. The sister has to perform a Rakhi ceremony in which she celebrates her love for her brothers and her wish for their well-being. She then ties a "rakhi" (red string) around the wrist of the brother. The brother then pledges to protect and take care of his sister under all circumstances.

So to my brothers, related and not, happy Rakhi!

I've also been running quite a bit lately. At least when the birds let me. I feel like I'm in some modern age rendition of Alfred Hitchcocks' "The Birds."

Yes. It is that creepy.

Then again, it does make me run faster.

This week I also took rickshaw.

BUT I ACTUALLY SPOKE PROPER HINDI.

It was great.

There were no weird looks. Well, thats not completely true. From my side there were plenty. At the end of the drive, I sat there with a single tear running down my face. Wiped it off and handed the cash to the driver.

I'll start from the beginning.

I called for the rickshaw and told him where I wanted to go. He seemed to have absolutely no idea what I was talking about (a fear that was proven true as we neared the area). But fine, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I asked him: Kitna? (How much?)

He said: 100. (100).

I said: Na hi, 80. (No, 80).

We settled on 90. And we were off.

I call this next part "Need for Speed: Auto Rickshaws of New Delhi."

I don't think I've ever feared for my life more than I did Friday. We drove through red ( a few times), bumped up against cyclists, flew over potholes (my head hit the top of the auto a few more times).
I'm fairly certain we broke at least, at least, 48 traffic rules.

As we were driving over the Moti Bagh flyover (almost home) I could feel the wind flowing in my hair, my eyes watering with each km/h over the speedlimit.

I felt........ like I was about to near death. Quite the opposite of alive really.

And that brings us back to where I started, sitting there with a single tear rolling down my cheek from the wind, paying the guy, and vowing that I will never complain about traffic in Europe again.*

In other news, doesn't my dog look like the king of the jungle?

*Disclaimer: The rickshaws are generally safe. Once in a while it happens that one driver will be a little more reckless than others but don't let that discourage you from taking one. Keep in mind that they don't want to get into accidents neither because it would cost them a lot more to fix their rickshaw than that your trip would cost.
It's all part of the adventure.