First Day in Bangalore!

Dear Friends,

There might be a god…

I muttered to myself, as I stepped out of the taxi in full-parts, not injured in any way. I survived my first Indian freeway experience!

I say “freeway” with an emphasis on “free.” As Ramesh, my seasoned taxi-driver (18 years in the business!) said, “there aren’t many rules and regulations.” The ride was 40 minutes of gripping fear for my life. And amusement.

I barely consider myself competent on the American highway- I’m bad with memorizing which road goes where and in what general direction destinations lie- but that sums up my problems with driving- I don’t lack skill per se, I lack directional intuition. At least at driving speed.

In Bangalore, I’d probably get run over within the first minute of being behind the wheel- and at no particular fault of my own, other than perhaps a lack of aggression.  Driving in America is about knowing the rules and making snap judgments when necessary. Driving in Bangalore is entirely the latter.  The occasional faded white lane indicator is more of an aesthetic than a guideline, as cars speed their way in groups of three and four in a two-lane “highway,” tailgating like it’s their job and coming within inches of rubbing rearview mirrors…every few seconds. Their movement is a sort of mystifying dance- a pas de deux (et trois, et quatre, et cetera) of small sedans like the taxi that brought me to the guesthouse, large open trucks carrying cement blocks dangerously close to paying a visit to my window, huge buses at the verge of falling to pieces and actively contributing to global warming via billowing exhaust pipes, casual autorickshaws that really shouldn’t be speeding alongside everyone else on the highway, and of course, the pedestrians.

I thought jaywalking in Boston was badass (excuse my language); check out those Bangaloreans walking right across the highway whilst the previously noted vehicles criss-cross in a two-lane pathway at a range of 40 to 80 km/h. It is complete and utter chaos.

Ramesh: “Yes. Lots of accidents.”

I literally could have opened my window and shook hands with people crossing street while Ramesh took a casual 70 km/h dip between random trees in the middle of the highway. If you think I risked my life sitting in a stunt-driver’s taxi (I swear, every action scene involving a car must have seen help from an average Bangalorean driver as a stunt double), think about those pedestrians. There was even a man who walked right up to the side of our taxi, realized we weren’t stopping, and glared at us, his face a foot away from Ramesh’s, and about 2 inches away from the side-view mirror. Hello, Bangalore.

Anyway, the whole experience throws me back into (that one time) I attempted to play Mario Cart (for those of you who don’t play, Mario Cart is a game inspired by NASCAR races, but set in fantastical settings with cute players) . I’m really bad with videogame control and tend to over exaggerate my turns in that particular game, causing me to skim along the boundaries while watching the little gold coins and mushrooms escape my grasp.  Imagine mini-lily, speeding zigzag across a narrow track, and replace “only just missing coins and mushrooms” with “almost grazing other cars and people,” and you get the picture. But I don’t get to restart the game if I run over any of those people. As my fellow Bostonians reply to unfortunate occurrences, this is a case of “bad news bears.”

But thanks to Ramesh’s skill and experience, we made it! Ramesh (and all the drivers around us, actually) seemed to serendipitously slide into a rhythm of cautionary honking, sporadic weaving in and out, and close-calls.  It seems that some unanticipated harmony can arise from blatant examples of discord!

Thank goodness for functional pedestrian rights and traffic lanes-funny what we take for granted.

Heading to the Kodagahalli tomorrow!

Lily