The easiest way to travel in Delhi is by auto-rickshaw. Of course, riding in one means you have to haggle with the driver over the price, and then hope that he understands, despite the language barrier, where you want to go.
But all is not as simple as it seems.
The rickshaw mafia is a federation of rickshaw drivers. Their cooperation is impressive. This is how it goes down.
They line up outside popular places, like the metro exit or a mall, like so:
When you approach them, the leader, who usually speaks the best English, says, "Where you going?" You tell him, using a lot of gestures and body language, and he choose the rickshaw he thinks is most likely to get you there. And then there is the price.
I got in a big fight with the rickshaw mafia this week. After a trip to "Food Bazaar," my favorite grocery destination, I approached the rickshaw mafia. I told them where I lived. The mafia leader took one look at me and said "300 rupees."
Me: "No way! 100."
Vito Corleone: "No, 250." I laughed, said ok, and started to walk away. I have no idea where I was going, but this wasn't an act. I was pissed. Vito started smacking the side of a rickshaw and yelled, "Lady! 250!"
Me (screaming): "No! I live here! I'm not a tourist. 100!"
We finally agreed on 150. The whole time Vito and I were screaming at each other, the mafia drivers, who take naps in the back of their rickshaws in between jobs, were peering out from their little yellow roofs and laughing really hard. I think they enjoyed the show.
That night, I chased a lizard out of our apartment.
This is the distressed email I sent to Bob:
There is a typo in the message; I meant to say "It wasn't that big." Honestly, it looked like a toy lizard, but it freaked me out. Sick. Also, we live on the seventh floor of our building. How did it get up here?
Guess I'll never know. Hope it was a one time thing.
Last story about the events of the week so far, and I'll keep it short:
At a restaurant, a woman tried to cut in front of me. In India, this is completely acceptable. If you let someone cut in front of you, you deserve it. So I booty bumped her out of the way, and ordered my food. Take that.
But all is not as simple as it seems.
The rickshaw mafia is a federation of rickshaw drivers. Their cooperation is impressive. This is how it goes down.
They line up outside popular places, like the metro exit or a mall, like so:
When you approach them, the leader, who usually speaks the best English, says, "Where you going?" You tell him, using a lot of gestures and body language, and he choose the rickshaw he thinks is most likely to get you there. And then there is the price.
I got in a big fight with the rickshaw mafia this week. After a trip to "Food Bazaar," my favorite grocery destination, I approached the rickshaw mafia. I told them where I lived. The mafia leader took one look at me and said "300 rupees."
Me: "No way! 100."
Vito Corleone: "No, 250." I laughed, said ok, and started to walk away. I have no idea where I was going, but this wasn't an act. I was pissed. Vito started smacking the side of a rickshaw and yelled, "Lady! 250!"
Me (screaming): "No! I live here! I'm not a tourist. 100!"
We finally agreed on 150. The whole time Vito and I were screaming at each other, the mafia drivers, who take naps in the back of their rickshaws in between jobs, were peering out from their little yellow roofs and laughing really hard. I think they enjoyed the show.
That night, I chased a lizard out of our apartment.
This is the distressed email I sent to Bob:
There is a typo in the message; I meant to say "It wasn't that big." Honestly, it looked like a toy lizard, but it freaked me out. Sick. Also, we live on the seventh floor of our building. How did it get up here?
Guess I'll never know. Hope it was a one time thing.
Last story about the events of the week so far, and I'll keep it short:
At a restaurant, a woman tried to cut in front of me. In India, this is completely acceptable. If you let someone cut in front of you, you deserve it. So I booty bumped her out of the way, and ordered my food. Take that.
I am so in love with this, it is unbelievable. I need to grow my aggression, immediately.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I had some gulab jamun last week and it was definitely interesting- have you had this yet?? It is like a donut, only sweeter (if that is even possible...)
( I ate at an Indian restaurant to start getting acquainted... you understand.)
I love it when you go all ABG on people in the general public. Especially if they are foreign. Remember that time in Jamaica when you saved us from the mean taxi guy? That was awesome.
ReplyDelete