J-walking: A way of life

I'm doing much better these days, thanks for asking. I had my blood sucked out of me for the third time in this country today and--drumroll please--my platelets are now in the normal range!! This is very exciting news because it means that I can travel! So tomorrow I hop on a plane to Delhi and we'll see where it takes me. 


I did manage to venture out a couple times in this weekend of serious R and R and I learned a couple things. One thing I learned from the comfort of my hotel room was that the festival of Dassera took place this weekend. More on this festival here. I didn't realize that I didn't need to read the newspaper to find out there was a festival. I went out and...bam! Flowers. Everywhere. I must admit that normally you find a flower shop every three doors down but this was very different. Rows of bright orange carnations with alternating dark green leaves were strung on every passing rickshaw and car. These flower lines also graced the entrance to shops and even the hospital. I saw a couple bicyclers (we're talking pedal pushers, not motorcyclists here) with flowers in the spokes of their tires. I'm not sure what the significance is of the orange flower, but it's clearly loved. 


I also learned that before 10am on the weekends, the roads are not such a terrifying place. Before 10am on a weekday (when we make the daily pilgrimage to class) the roads are, to say the least, dangerous death-traps. Ok, so I've never seen a pedestrian get hurt or a car crash of any sorts but I'm convinced it's only a matter of time. Crossing the street here is unlike crossing the street in any other country I've been to. Cross walks are few and the only way to cross is via j-walking...which is really j-weaving. You make your way across the street by compromising with all the people on the road. You move forward, they slow down a little. Usually this involves much honking and a sudden rise in my desire to know how to curse in Hindi. 


I've had one close call. On one fine Wednesday, I came to the realization that I must cross the street. Needless to say, I don't like making this realization. I walked up to the curb and started making my way into the street. The street seemed one-way so I made sure that to the right of me the cars were clearing up. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a motorcycle zoomed by literally two inches from my feet (coming from my left). Not such a one-way road after all. The thing is it's often impossible to tell because the lines on the street are ignored completely. I honestly wonder why they're there...someone must be very optimistic. I survived the motorcycle incident with a new appreciation for taking my time to assess the situation before dashing across the street in haste. 


And, speaking of haste...I must make haste and hit the hay. Have a great week, I'll be back Sunday hopefully with stories galore. Stay away from those mosquitoes!