Petrol stop

It usually happens when you're in a hurry and can least afford the time:  the auto rickshaw driver stops for petrol.
And though I don't ever see passengers in the other autos lined up, I assume I'm not the only one this happens to, right?

In this instance, the driver said it was needed, and this line was just too short to pass up.

One bonus to the time in line there was seeing this auto decked out in pink and hearts.

It is the law that for safety's sake everyone has to step out of the vehicle while it is being filled with the CNG.  It does strike me, though, that if we are all standing within 5 feet of an auto that is going to explode, it is not going to make a bit of difference whether we were inside it or not.

Ire irony

"For ire."
Ya, that's an instigator of ire all right--a meter in an auto that isn't actually being used.
Bargaining with a driver who won't use his meter can certainly raise strong, ireful emotions.  

Broke down tireless

The auto broke down.

 "Tyre puncture."

An auto driver's life cannot be an easy one.  He's gotta have a few skills, when it comes to the roads of India.
Though I've experienced only a handful, a flat tire must be common for a guy like him.

 And there's a system in place for what to do at a time like this.  A code of the auto driver--you can wave down any other empty auto and the driver willingly helps to lift the three wheeler so that the tire can be changed with the one he's been sitting on all day.

Its' a procedure that takes about 20 minutes in all.
Three wheels down,
and we were off again.

Jaipur traffic

Some traffic in the pink city of Jaipur:  bicycles and auto rickshaws.

Peppers in the road

We were driving along and I was lost in thought when the auto driver did some crazy stunt driving, swerving around in the road. He was making an attempt to grab a bag of something out of the middle of the speeding traffic.
The motorcycle behind us screeched its brakes and went around us, scolding loudly.
The driver decided it was too dangerous and he pulled over. Still a dangerous maneuver--he, himself, ran out into the middle of the traffic and retrieved a bag of peppers, which he stowed inside the auto.

And we drove on.
Whoa.

I hadn't seen where the peppers came from, but apparently the driver had, and in a matter of moments he was yelling to another driver to come up next to him.
At the upcoming stoplight, the other auto pulled up beside us. "Have you got them?" the driver breathed.
"Yes, yes, they're safe," my driver handed the bag full of red and yellow peppers to the other, whose auto was full of vegetables.
"Oh," he sighed, "Thank you, thank you. Meherbani. You have done a good thing for me." He touched his forehead and chest in deepest gratitude.
"Yes, yes, take care. You have many vegetables there. I went out and got these for you."
"Thank you, thank you, brother," the other driver pulled out a cigarette, lit it and inhaled deeply to settle his nerves. "These ones are hard to find. I was going back for them."
My driver nodded, "I saw. I saw."

The light changed and again we drove on.
And for the rest of the ride, the driver alternated between whistling and singing.
Yes, it was a good deed.
Well done, sir.

In the back of a moving vehicle

It's like he's in jail, right?

But no, he's only in the back of a load carrier.
The door isn't even locked.

On sighting this guy, I thought to document some of the other things seen in (or on) the back of a moving vehicle.

At least the guy with the over-sized mirror has a helmet on, right?

In the back of an auto, it is noisy.

Sometimes I want to tell the people with their back window full of stuffed animals, tissue boxes and pillows that it's a rear-view window, not a storage shelf.

Nice for this guy that he's not quite as trapped, but his seat must be terribly uncomfortable.

And here's a very resourceful girl: studying while on her way home through the long traffic delays.

And what does all this make me say?
Ya: love for India.

Close enough to lick

Riding in an auto really never gets old.
There is always something new and wild to see. Or something wild that has become commonplace. Gone are the days of speeding along at 55mph, safely inside the individual environment of your moving vehicle.
No. In an auto, the entire environment assaults you: the feel, sound and smell of the traffic is right there with you. Inescapable.

You can smell the chickens next door in their truck. (Take a look at those birds and remind me why you like chicken nuggets?)

You can lean over and shake the hand of the man in the colorful magenta sweater, ask him how work was today.


You can reach out and...lick the giant, bright green bus that is close enough to inch over and crush the eensy auto in which you ride.
Maybe "lick" is a gauche word to use about traffic, 'cause you for sure shouldn't lick traffic. Far too dirty.
But the phrase "reach out and touch" just doesn't seem to convey the proximity between you and the next roaringly close vehicle. Really big vehicle with wheels half the size of the sum total of your own mode of transportation.
I mean, those big buses are breathing down on you and all you can do is hope the yellow canvas top of your auto is bright enough to have been seen by the driver.

Eek.
Adventure around every corner, I tell you.

Delusion of victory

It was a long, exhausting day.
Paperwork.
Documents.
Stamps.
Lines.
Glue.
Signatures.
Crying babies.
Numbers on a board that never changed.
Frustrated people.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.

All of that.

So when the auto driver that took me home finally stopped at the end of the ride and said he had no change, it was not what I wanted to hear.
And I was feeling just ridiculous enough to fight over it.
My change was 8 rupees. I would have been satisfied with 5. But he didn't have a five.
"What? Are you sure? You don't have five? Just give me five. I have no change."
"I don't have it," he said, "Look." He showed me his bills.
But that was just the bills, not his coins. He must have something. "Give me two rupees, give me one. Give me something."
He was amused, and he pulled two rupees out of his shirt pocket.
"Madame, that's for my cigarette," he said, "You know, for smoking."

Ya, I know a cigarette is for smoking, and you can look at this two ways, buddy: either I'm helping your health by taking your designated smoking allowance or I'm giving you six rupees for three more cigarettes.
"Give it to me," I said.
He did.

One small victory.
Or some such delusion.

Auto ride

I invite you to come along on an auto ride with me.
If the video feels jarring, that is only because it's accurate. This is actually a smooth, wide road without a lot of traffic.
On this ride, you can try out two round abouts. So if you've never done that before, have fun.
But for those of you looking for lanes in the road: stop trying.

Flat tire fixed

Here's a new one: auto with a flat tire fixed while I wait beside the road.

Traffic can be harrowing--that's nothing new. So the other evening when I was out, my auto driver had to swerve to the edge of the road as another car pulled in front of us to make a left-hand turn.
Going off the road punctured the tire.
We pulled over and the driver got to work changing the tire.
"How long will it take?" I asked.
"Ten minutes."
"Ten minutes? For sure?"
"For sure, madame."
So I stood by the side of the road waiting for him to finish. I had ample opportunity to leave him there unpaid as many other auto drivers saw our predicament and wanted my business.
When it came time to lift the auto and remove the old tire, the driver hailed another auto and asked for help. Together they tipped the auto up and he propped it on its side to finish the job.
Sure enough, he was done in ten minutes and off we set again.
All in a day's adventure.

Personal driver

I don't know if I should be freaked out or not.

There's a driver that knows I go to many of the same places every week. He likes to take me places. I assume this means I am paying too much and thus his willingness.
One day he asked me if I was going to go to the same place next week at the same time. "Maybe," I didn't commit.

Well, this morning the driver came to my door. "You will go this morning? I am outside."
Ookaayy.
Should I be worried he knows where I live? And comes to the door?
I mean, he's a tiny little man who must have suffered a stroke or something because the right side of his body is atrophied--so he's not intimidating, or anything.
It's just that...he's at my door.

Not sure.
I let him take me though. Beats walking out in the heat to find another auto.

He even waited around to bring me back again.
I must really be over paying him.

The rains started as we were on the road. Monsoon rains.
Auto rickshaws are not closed vehicles, if you'll note.
It was wet. But the coolness did feel nice.

The monsoon rains started in earnest this week. The newspapers reported that flooded roads caused craters and traffic jams.
There's so much water on the roads, you can't really see where the potholes are any more. My ride home was both wet and more jarring than usual. But the auto did hold together. :)

Fare hike?

I think there are new rules I don't know.

When I went out the other day, the auto rickshaw driver was very willing to go by meter.
That's an unusual thing.
I also noticed that other drivers were taking more care than usual to make it look as if they were using their meters--actually turning them on.
This driver that wanted to go by meter gave me some explanation of how much it would be per kilometer and we set off. (I just pretended to follow what he was saying.) When we arrived, the meter said 42 rupees, but I knew he would want more than that, so I pulled out 50 for him.
No, he wanted 70.
70!
For this short distance?!
He gave me his fare calculation explanation again, but our math came up with different final results.
I dislike these arguments with drivers and how they get me all upset about being cheated. So I gave him another 10 rupees and walked away.

When I arrived home, I searched for some news about auto fare changes (this is one of those times when I think it might be a good idea to subscribe to a newspaper), and found very few articles. Most of them saying there probably will be a fare hike, but the rates are uncertain. And one article that said people were angry about the changes.

I know that I usually pay way more than the actual fare as it is. So it is my hope that the prices I am used to won't change too much.
Although I'll have to come up with a new bargaining line for a while, because I usually say something like: "By meter it's only this many rupees to go there, so this much more is a good price for you."

Or maybe I just need a motorcycle...
ha ha.

Serendipitious orchestration

I just lived through a day orchestrated to bring us to Mexican food--good Mexican food.
Our plan today, my friend and I, was to go to a certain market where there was supposed to be a nice bookstore and a really good (dare-we-hope: authentic) Mexican restaurant. Good Mexican food is a rarity on this side of the world.
We found the bookstore. It was as expected. Not fantastic, but had books.
Now it was time to eat.
We found all the signage for the restaurant we wanted to go to, but where was the entrance?
"Oh that place is finished," said the guard we asked.
"Finished?"
"Finished."
Sad, sad news. No Mexican for lunch.
We found a coffee shop to eat at before we melted and returned to my house.

Meanwhile, my friend's husband was supposed to be leaving on a plane. But the plane's airconditioning was broken and they were sitting out on the tarmac in 104 degrees unable to leave. Several hours later they deplaned all the passengers and moved them to a 5 star hotel in the north of the city.
A 5 star hotel? Hmm. This might be our only opportunity to go see what it's like inside...
Our "only choice", then, was to head there as soon as nap time for her one year old was over.

Riding in autos is hard, tiring work. But that's what we ended up in.
The call to the taxi to take us to the fancy hotel was at 4:20pm. The dispatcher said: "There is no taxi available for half an hour. 5 o'clock it will come for you."
That was very bad math and not half an hour. But I agreed.
At 5:15 I called the driver and went through extensive directions on how to get to my house. Twenty minutes later I called and asked the driver where he was. The name of the location he gave me was about half an hour away.
What!
Okay, cancel that taxi service.

Now what do we do? It would be fun to go see the 5 star hotel that we wouldn't normally have opportunity to go see. But it was getting late. We would have to have time to come back for the kid's bedtime.
Our new plan? Walk out of the neighborhood and find our own taxi. If we can't get one, we walk a little further and end up at the Chinese restaurant nearby.
As we walked along, an auto passed us asking where we wanted to go? An auto wasn't in the plan. Because it was hot and we were tired and we didn't want to over-tire the kid before we'd even gotten anywhere. But there was the auto...
With a reasonable price.
We looked at each other.
We took it.
So we didn't exactly arrive at the five star hotel looking as if we belonged there, but they let us in anyway.
We walked through the lobby (unimpressive) and put our feet in the pool (slightly impressive). Then we headed out again to find dinner.
We thought we would go to a nearby pizza place and we got an auto to go there. I told him which block to take us to and when he pulled up, what did I see? A sign for Sancho's, the Mexican restaurant we'd been trying to find at lunch time.
"There's Sancho's," I said.
My friend misheard me to say, "There's a sandpit." Which was also true. Because all in front of the restaurant was construction and sand and a great big hole--no way for us to walk through.
The driver, though, showed us the path where people were walking through the construction site.
So my friend and I stood outside the Mexican restaurant and had this short conversation:
"We came here for pizza, but there's Sancho's. Which one do you want to go to?"
"Well, we know what pizza tastes like, we haven't tried Sancho's."
"Right. Let's go."
When we stepped inside and were told they had a baby chair, we knew we had arrived. A marvelous baby chair. Even though I had to eat with one hand while I held my fingers on the latch to keep the tray down and the kid from escaping.
That, and the excellent food with real cheese and real sour cream made all we had been through throughout the day totally worth it to end up here.
Disappointment at lunch time.
Waiting and waiting for a taxi that never showed up.
A plane with air conditioning that didn't work.
A visit to a 5 star hotel.
A search for pizza because we hadn't been successful at lunch.
It had all brought us here.
"That's what you call 'serendipity'," I said.
"No," replied my friend, "That's what you call the orchestration of a good God who knew exactly what we needed."
Absolutely.

Auto strike

I went out this morning because I had an appointment. It was just before rush hour time, so I thought I'd have no trouble finding an auto and getting to my destination in 20 minutes or so.
Wrong.
Unbeknownst to me, the auto unions had called a 24 hour strike, making some very unrealistic demands.
I waited 30 minutes and then walked to the auto stand where I usually avoid asking because their prices are higher.
Higher, yes, and today: way higher. Three times the price!
"You are crazy," I told the driver.
He laughed and repeated what I said to the others.
"We're part of such and such auto union," he said.
Okay, great, I thought, and I told him what I was willing to pay and then walked away when they wouldn't take it.
Then I called the office where I had my appointment and asked if there was some reason autos were not running today.
Yes, there was a strike.
Ahah.
So I went back home and canceled my appointments for the day.
It's too bad, really, 'cause I imagine the roads are pretty good driving with 55,000 fewer vehicles crowding along them.

Random

I never get over the things I see while in an auto ride through the city.
Here's a list:

• Girl slaps guy at bus station
• Man with chicken under his arm
• Man on the back of scooter holding a ladder straight up in the air
• Construction worker digs around dog
• Horse carrying bricks stumbles over speed bump, drops bricks all over the street
  

And you know what else? Amitabh Bachchan called me. (Okay, so it was just a mobile phone advertisement.)

Pink people

There are pink people walking around today.
Why?
Because yesterday was Holi and they threw paint at each other.
Either it doesn't wash off easily...or they didn't try to wash it off.
There are also pink cows, dogs, streets and autos.
I guess it disappears after the next rain.

The contrasts are great

What is that between the buses, auto rickshaws, and cars?
Yes, it's an elephant and his mahout.
What a city of contrasts Delhi is.
On the drive across the city with some friends, we spotted the elephant, and in another part of the city there were families gathered in the grassy areas to enjoy the evening cool.
It was a very different atmosphere once we reached our destination, a fancy hotel where we partook of some coffee and tea and mixed with the rich and privileged.
The halls and corridors were lined with old paintings, drawings, lamps, statues and fountains.
We enjoyed our rare, expensive treat and then it was back to the real world of Delhi, its dust, noise and humanity.

Gift exchange

I could have a blog just about the things that happen while riding in auto rickshaws.

I was on my way home when the oft-seen little beggar/hawker children tried to get me to buy a string of jasmine blossoms. I told them I didn't need one but they still hung around the auto asking me.
The little girl's eye was caught by my recent purchase, "What's that?" she asked. I had bought some synthetic grass with little sea shells on it to put in a vase and it was poking out of the shopping bag.
I didn't know the Hindi word so I told her in English that they were shells. It struck me that she's probably never seen a lake or the ocean, maybe never even heard of it. How do you explain, then, what a shell is?
The little boy laid a string of the jasmine blossoms over my arm. "No, I don't need it," I told him and held my arm out to him. He wouldn't take it.
Again I tried to return the blossoms but he backed out of reach. "Gift," he said. It was late in the day and the blossoms were wilting. Perhaps he knew he would be unable to sell them to anyone.
The little girl, who was still admiring the shells and longing to touch one, also laid some jasmine blossoms over my arm. "Gift," she repeated after the boy.
This was too much for me. I reached into the bag and loosened one of the pieces of shell grass and gave it to the girl. She thought it was wonderful. After she looked at it she handed it back.
"Gift," I told her.
The boy then said something I couldn't understand and tried to keep the girl from taking the shell grass. I said again that was a gift. As the light changed and the traffic began to go forward, the boy wrestled it away from the girl and threw it back into the moving auto.
My impulse was to throw it out again onto the sidewalk where hopefully the little girl could find it.
But I didn't.
Instead I straightened out the bent end and slipped it back into my bag.
Maybe the boy was protecting them from something I don't understand. Even though I cannot comprehend the world of their street-life, I still want to treat them with dignity and honor.
Sigh.
The smell of jasmine blossoms went with me all the way home.

Autos are hard work

The zipper on one of my suitcases broke off while traveling recently. The suitcase is a fairly new one, so I wanted to take it to the store where I bought it and have it fixed.
I called them first, knowing that if I went all the way out to the store and they didn't have what was needed for the repair that I would not be happy. They told me they had a store much closer to my location and I should go there instead.
Good idea.
That's where I headed this afternoon (first auto). The shop was supposed to be at a newly constructed mall. I walked to its location, didn't find it, and then I asked the lady at the information counter about it. "Oh," she said, "That shop is closed while they have a meeting."
"When will it be open again?"
"Two or three days."
"Days?"
"Yes, ma'am. Sorry for inconvenience. You look tired."
Of course I was tired. I had been carrying around a suitcase for half an hour.
So I headed out to another store in another market (second auto).
When I brought the suitcase in and showed it to the store manager, he was very happy to fix it and told me it would take two days.
"For a zipper?" I asked, hopeful that I could have it back within the hour.
"Actually, ma'am, our repair man is due to come in today for some other work. So perhaps it will get done today and you can pick it up tomorrow."
Well, if I must come all the way again tomorrow...
I got something to eat and headed back to where I'm staying (auto three). About half way there, the driver suddenly pulled up next to another auto and said to the driver: "Will you take this passenger to the PVR for 50 rupees?"
"Of course," he waggled his head.
What? My driver was kicking me out?
Apparently, he had bought his lunch just before he picked me up and was now too hungry to drive any further without eating it. He and the other driver made a deal and my price was the same, so I climbed into auto four.
Just as I entered the neighborhood where I'm staying, my phone began to ring. "Hello, ma'am? This is Mohit from the luggage shop. We have your luggage fixed. Are you still in the market?"
"No, I am not there anymore. I will come for it tomorrow." Bummer. Shoulda been more patient.
"Very good, ma'am."
I went into the house and started to wash all the dust off me from being out in the traffic so long and my phone rang again. "Hello, ma'am? This is Mohit from the luggage shop. We have fixed your luggage today."
"Yes." This sounded very familiar. Had he forgotten that he'd just called me?
"Inside your suitcase you have left some money. So it is best if you come to pick it up today."
OH! The suitcase has so many pockets and I thought I'd checked them all, but I'd missed a very important envelope with a significant amount of money in it. "Yes. You're right. I will come now."
I walked back out to the road and negotiated with a driver to take me to the market and back again, and off we went (auto five).
I got my suitcase from the shop and thanked the manager several times, telling him he had done a very good and honest thing.
Then I found my driver and set off again. It took us an hour and a half both ways.
Riding in an auto is hard work. All the bumps and jolts. The shaking and vibrating. The exhaust and heat. All together I spent over three hours riding around in them today. I feel tired and covered in dust.
I hope I don't have to go anywhere tomorrow.

Auto rickshaws

Driving an auto rickshaw must be a tough job.

If the engine breaks down, you've got to know how to fix it.

It must be nice to sit down and take a rest.

To take a nap, even.

A young driver in training?