Back home in the States, it can feel like we've got life figured out, regulated, under control, under wraps. But here in India, nothing seems even close to figured out. Nothing seems remotely under control. You're never quite sure what will happen next, and you're working without a net. Terrifying? Yes. But also invigorating.
I couldn't have said it better myself. Take for example, the simple act of walking down the street here. It seems like something you should be able to do in peace, without conflict or disaster raining down on you from above. It seems so. It's not.
The Indians have a fondness, shall we say, for the horns on their vehicles. Cars, motorcycles, buses (these beauties sing entire songs for your listening pleasure), scooters, autorickshaws, even crusty, rusty lame-ass bicycles with pink baskets, all come equipped with bull-horn type honkers. These are used for everything... to say hello, to signal the approach to an intersection, to notify other drivers of your existence, for passing, for turning, for going straight, for going in reverse, for approaching another vehicle (which in a city of 8 milion people and nearly as many drivers is fairly constant), and for letting pedestrians that a car is there. All of this leads to a pretty noisy street scene of 8 million drivers, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand on the horn. Chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos.
The other morning, I was minding my own business, strolling along the nice quiet side streets of my neighborhood on my way to yoga class, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and thinking to myself how happy I was to live far enough away from the main drag that I didn't have to deal with all the noise all the time. As it was mid-afternoon on a weekday, there wasn't much traffic at all. I was actually marvelling at the fact that I had the wide, tree-lined lane all to myself. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and as I was exhaling, I damn near had a heart attack because the driver of the only car on the road waited until it was less than two feet away from me and mashed on the horn as long and as hard as he possibly could.
Once I was able to breathe again, I pondered what could possibly have been the motivating factor for that action. Let's look at the scene... it was a wide street - plenty of room for 4 cars to pass each other side by side. It couldn't have been that the driver needed space. There was not another moving vehicle within miles. He wasn't warning another car that he was coming. There were no intersections nearby, so that wasn't it. I was the only pedestrian within sight. Granted, since I was on my way to a yoga class I hadn't showered yet and wasn't looking my whole-hearted best, but did I look like I had a deathwish? Like I would suddenly and inexplicably turn and hurl myself in front of the only moving object on the road? Obviously. The driver must have decided to save me from a slow and painful death from being run-over in favor of a quick and shocking heart-stoppage instead. For that, I thank him for saving me from myself.
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