What you’re about to read are actual accounts. Please brace yourself for the facts are entirely and in all honesty true. Nothing is exaggerated and nothing is left out. This is the art of the rickshaw ride…
It was a lazy morning. I awoke from my slumber just before 9:30 so that I may get a shower in before I left the house. The shower of course was neither hot nor cold, and to be honest I wouldn’t have wanted it to be any of those. The water was the same temperature as the tank that is perched on our roof. And so running water over my hot, sweaty body was enough to relieve that gross feeling that every morning brings whilst sleeping in these hot Indian nights.
I bounced down the 3 flights of stairs in great anticipation of the day in front of me. The days of past have blessed me and I knew that there was a lot more in store for me. The only thing between me and the ministry at hand was my quick breakfast, waiting for the girls to get ready, a 30 minute Metro ride, and then the rickshaw…
There are some things in life that scare a man. One is being late due to forces you cannot control such as waiting on the women. I know the feeling. They can’t go anywhere without you, and you can’t go anywhere without them (AIM rule in India). And so as a man you’re already caught between enemy lines so to speak. And the other of course is rickshaws…
Now if you’ve ever seen a rickshaw, you might think they look oh, so cute and such. A nice little seat on a big bike of sorts. So romantic! I’d like to see you enjoy a romantic get-away on one of those in downtown Delhi, India. That’ll be a day to remember! Let me explain…
When you first meet a rickshaw, you have to know where you’re going. You have to know which sector you’ll be traveling to because there’s a 75% chance you know the way better than the driver. The second thing is that if you barter a price, you are behind the eightball unless he’s honest with you. Which is slim to none. You skin color does matter in these parts. You have to get over yourself pretty quick and understand this. If you don’t get over yourself, then don’t bother coming to India. You’ll be more focused on not being treated fairly and in turn, whatever it is that you came to do will fail.
Once you settle a price, or if you just get in and the driver gives you the head sway indicating he understands you destination (once again slim to none understanding you completely). Then you’re on your way. A sweet tactic of mine is to know the price ahead of time, and just get in. Go to my destination and then pay the price and leave. That’s it, done deal. Of course you have a mob gathering behind you, but don’t let that hinder your plan of the day. Just go!
You’re always caught in the middle. These are actual events…say the price for anyone (not white of course) is 20 rupees for 2 people. I will then give 40 rupees (the usual). The driver will say its 20 rupees not enough. So this is where you do the “walk away” tactic. Deep down you want to bless him, but he’s feeling jipped on dumb Americans, and you feel you have just doubled his income on that ride. It’s important to say God Bless you and walk away. No hard feelings, don’t worry about how he’s feeling.
And so the journey itself…
Well, once you are in the rickshaw it is like a roller coaster. You never know which way you’ll suddenly turn, or when you’ll stop, when you’ll hit a pot hole, or even when the driver gets off and walks the thing over a small hill. It’s all part of the deal. You want his service, so you play by his rules. That’s just the way things are.
The second thing is when you get going, to make sure you’re going in the intended direction. If you’re not careful or don’t know where you’re going, you may just go on a tour of Delhi which holds over a million people. So make sure you’re in the right direction.
And lastly, you have to love danger. It’s quite amazing how a simple, little, rickshaw ride can escalate into a life and death situation rapidly. You constantly have little children running up to you and hanging on as they persistently beg you for money. Motorcycles and scooters are everywhere here and are always whizzing by. Buses and large trucks take up lanes at a time and cut off people left and right. And lastly small cars are the loudest, most annoying thing in India. The come out of no-where and demand to be let by. They scare you when the honk at the most inappropriate times to let you know they have passed you. It’s crazy out there. Ever changed 3 lanes on a bike on the freeway?? Try it sometime, that’s the insanity out here!
And so, as of now I can tell this tale of rickshaws for I am a survivor. Life is tough out here, but there’s always adventure right around the corner (or flat, straight, stretch of nice pavement) on the rickshaw. I’ve only been in 4 accidents. None have rolled or have been hit broadside yet. But we’ve hit 3 and 1 hit us. Kinda shocking at times, but once you get used to it, it becomes normal. I get excited when I have a collision-free day. I know God is with me!
So next time you picture the nice simplicity of the little old rickshaw, double think the fun little ride you’ll be partaking in. If your experience has been different than mine, then Thank Jesus!
