I wonder if I should even be writing about this to you. I know after you read this you will kindly, and maybe even urgently, advise me to stop this silly nonsense of driving in
So it’s like this: In the West we drive on the right side. In
Rules of size. Yes, the bigger you are the more status you have on the roads. Hence, if you are driving a large truck or bus you rule. Only military vehicles take precedence over everyone else. So I’m driving down the road just outside of Barmer and a truck ahead, coming towards me, is passing a cart. The truck coming right at me flashes his lights and I am forced to the side shoulder (that is if there is one, or it is not being taken up by a cow or people). This is typical and that’s why you watch for what is in front of you. So it’s military vehicles, trucks and busses first, and then cars and then motor cycles, followed by bicycles, carts (of all type, ie: camel, oxen, goat, horse, donkey, and humans). At the bottom of the list is people, they have no rights but you don’t want to hit them either. One great exception to all of the above, never hit a cow. You’d be better off to hit a person than a cow, I have been told this many times, so I have to believe it. Recall, there are more cows in Rajasthan than people. Maybe that’s because they are less likely to be involved in a traffic accident.
Breakfast of Indians
The Sharma’s (Satish [father], Pawan [mother], Supriya [daughter 20yo], Kushboo [daughter 17yo] and Niku [son 11yo] who were my neighbours until recently invited me to breakfast at their new home. It was rice with assorted vegetables mixed together (including hot chilli peppers) and coffee. I’ve had this before at Vishal’s house and elsewhere. It’s good but I’m not that fond of this for breakfast. Let’s just call it a cultural difference. So I invited them for breakfast, Canadian style. As it was easier for me to go to their house than the lot of them come to me, I packed up bag with all the ingredients I needed and biked over to their house through the sewage lakes (a.k.a. streets). The typical Canadian breakfast I presented to them was porridge (oats) with slices of mango and bananas and an optional sweet lassie, plus coffee (Indian style). No maple syrup available. I didn’t actually make the breakfast, Pawanji would not let me in her kitchen, so I just gave her instructions on how to make the porridge (with salt and sugar). I also brought my own bowls and spoons for them as I knew they didn’t have these, so we all sat and ate porridge with cut fruit on top. Pawanju ate in the kitchen. They said it was tasty. Oats in Hindi is Javi.
Pass carefully. Driver spits. (that’s another thing to watch for.)