My tour of India is drawing to a close. I know I didn’t give you description in great detail of all the intricate things I saw and the sites I visited. I’m not a travel writer, per se, more of a chronicler of my adventures. If you want to know what the Taj Mahal was built out of, you can google it! If you want to know my thoughts on the presence of feral cows on the highway or the ability of Uber drivers to deliver me safely to the airport, this is your spot.
Speaking of Uber drivers. I took an Uber from my hotel in Delhi, back to the Indira Gandhi airport. Now that I’m an adult, I try to stay at slightly nicer hotels and resorts. The ITC in Delhi would classify as such. It is that 5 stars, behind the walls, type of hotel. So, as I stood there with my 2 baggage sherpas’, waiting for my Uber, I felt a bit spoiled. I mean after all, my backpack weighs about 4 lbs and my roller bag/carryon about 10. Yet here I am waiting with 2 guys holding my bags and one guy waiting to open the car door when my limousine pulls up!
As my limo pulls up, I mean Uber, it is nearly comical. Up rolls this late 90’s Suzuki that has fought many a battle on the Delhi roads. Sadly, I think he lost most of those battles because the dents and battle scars were everywhere. The squeaking of the belts and the brakes were nearly as loud as all the horns in Delhi combined. As he pulled past the Bentley and Mercedes Benz hotel cars all I could hear was the, squeak, squeak, squeak of his suspension along with the corresponding, ear piercing screech of the brakes bringing his demolition derby car to a halt. Everyone standing on the platform instantly looked over to me and my ride. Their judging gaze was fixed directly at me! How could I invite this specimen behind the walls? It appeared I had violated some sort of unwritten rule or something? Even my Sherpas gave me a slight frown.
Regardless of whatever caste rules the “behind the walls” crowd were exhibiting, I’m still cheap in certain areas and religiously loyal to Uber. However, upon seeing this car, and I’m not even sure it qualified as a car anymore, I had second thoughts! Uhm, perhaps I should order another or take the beautiful hotel car? But I was unfazed and determined. I ordered an Uber and I’m going to take it! So I looked again at my reservation and sure enough, this guy had like 4.9 stars and thousands of rides, he must be decent. Well, I’m nothing if not adventurous, so I figured I’d go for it. I had come this far on the embarrassment scale anyways! So I proceeded to my “limo” and my 3rd Sherpa opened the door for me and I slid into the slightly torn back seat. The baggage Sherpas hurriedly tried to load the bags into the boot (that’s the cars trunk for you non British types) but the driver yelled something at them in Hindi. Apparently, that huge dent in the rear of the car has permanently locked the boot! Next thing I know, my bags are being tossed into the seat next to me, the doors are slammed shut, exhibiting a desperate need of WD40 and off we go!
Now having become somewhat of an expert on Delhi traffic, the first thing I knew was I definitely needed to put on the seat belt. As I reached over my shoulder, I found nothing. Now where would the seat belt be? As I frantically felt around my seat, looking for that very needed life saving device, I made eye contact with the driver. First off, why are you looking at me? Don’t you see the cow running in front of us? I guess he wondered what I was doing distracting him from his duties, so I asked him, “where is the seatbelt”? Still keeping my eye contact, and totally ignoring the road and the galloping water buffalo, he replied in his best broken English, “no problem, back seat don’t need!”
All I could think was “back seat don’t need?” Don’t you know there are elephants out there trying to kill me? Cows that could ram this little car any second! Not to mention the 50,000 cars and motorcycles we were surely to encounter in our 30 min ride to the airport. But there I was, merging into traffic, no seat belt, a 20-year-old Suzuki that had 4 bald tires, no shocks, barely ran and a driver so confident in his abilities that I didn’t need a seat belt! Mr. Driver I believe you may be over confident in your abilities because your car begs to differ! It has more dents than a golf ball!
So as we navigated the cars, motorcycles, cows, pigs, chickens, pedestrians, and tuk tuk’s I was reduced to prayer and hope. Prayer that my driver would turn around and actually look out the front window and hope that his over confidence would trump my complete fear and lack of confidence due to his cars beat up appearance! Well whatever it was, perhaps he was praying as well because, lord Ganesh or shiva or whatever multi armed deity he had so centrally perched on his dashboard was looking out for us and we made it to the airport. Believe it or not, the ride was the least eventful ride I had the entire time I was in India. Yes Mr. Uber driver, you earned yourself a big tip and 5 stars! You may roll off in your beaten chariot to do battle on the streets of Delhi again! Me, I’m on my way to Jordan.
bgjflyer 