How Lateness Happened to Me and Other Ordinary Happenings
I woke up at 7:30AM to my phone ringing “Wish they all could be California girls…” (yes that is my ring tone), I flipped open the phone to find my friend had hung up. I wasn’t awake enough to realize what was happening, so I closed my eyes again. It rang again, I opened it and the friend hung up again. Now I was awake enough to realize, this was a “missed call.” Here people don’t use voice-mail. It is assumed that you will return all missed calls. No one pays for incoming calls. And, no one I know ever has balance (it is a prepay system). Therefore people with cell phones (almost everyone including auto-wallas and press-wallas has a cell) are in a constant game of trying to get the other person to pay for the call. My friend was on her way to work and wanted to see “what happened” because she heard I had a cold and I was supposed to hang out with her and some other friends that night.
I coughed and sat up. This is the second time in the last month I’ve had a sore throat-cough thing going on. I hate it. Still I didn’t want to miss Hindi class, so I got ready to go.
I commuted with my parents which began by the three of us piling on a rickshaw. As we passed the temple, I saw people fighting over fruit that was being given out. Then walking to the metro a buffalo’s horns missed me by about three inches. At a hub station we had to change trains and it was at that point “lateness happened to me” (mudje dare ho guy). I don’t know what happened but a very full train was waiting for about ten minutes. It was so full that people were asking others please not to try to fit on the train. So we waited. After about ten more minutes (they are supposed to come every four minutes), another train came. By then three loads of people (getting off of other trains) were waiting and this train was not empty. I was standing about a two feet from the entrance and when the doors opened I was carried onto the train. I didn’t have to move myself at all. This was a record, it was so crowded.
But let me back up, I said that lateness happened to me. Generally in English we don’t say anything like that. If you are late, when you arrive at your destination you say, “Sorry I am late.” But in Hindi you would never say that. Instead you would say mudje dare ho guy which means lateness happened to me. In Delhi this is often true. Even if I leave my house on time, many things may happen along the way that cause me to become late. But for a culture that is much more event focused than time focused and is therefore always late (from a Western perspective) this is a challenging cultural difference. At the same time, if anyone knows me then they know that I am not the most punctual person, so this new phrase mudje dare ho guy works quite well for me.
Scandal on the Metro
I was on the metro this afternoon on my way home from Hindi class and a delicious dosa at Saravana Bhavan (check out the international locations of this South Indian Restaurant) when I looked down at my knee peering through a hole in my jeans and thought, this might be considered immodest here. Just then a woman in a sari walked by me scowling at my knee. And she wasn’t the only one. For the next hour men and women were starring at my knee. My dear India, forgive me and my knee.
Getting around Delhi
Transportation is a little different around here. If my mom gets to old and retirement age in India or we get rich and famous we’ll buy a white Ambassador and hire a driver to take us around, but until then this is how we do it:
BICYCLE RICKSHAW
The other day my mom and I were on our way some where which for us starts with a bicycle rickshaw to the metro station (it’s about a mile away). We opened our gate and I looked at the end of block to see a guy waiting on his bicycle. He smiled a toothless grin and said in Hindi (go mom for understanding), “how many days since this (honor) fell on me!” We laughed about that for days.
METRO
The other day we were waiting at the metro station for the train to come and when it came it was already full. More people jammed. We waited with a few hundred other people for the next train. The station must have started a new train because the next one that came was empty my mom and I shoved our way on the train along with everyone else. There was one more seat open and I motioned for my mom to sit down. Then just after she sat down a middle aged man came and stood with his back to the full bench (with indented seats that was obviously full) and motioned for the people to make room for him. They did. My mom looked at me as he squeezed next to her, she was wondering if she should just stand up. I think that in NYC that guy would have ended up sitting on someone’s lap and then getting beat up.
AUTO RICKSHAW
A few weeks ago I was squeezed into an auto rickshaw with both of my parents. We got stuck in traffic. Beggars and peddlers came running to meet us. We could have walked faster than we were moving in this golf-cart like vehicle. I noticed the motorcycles and scooters were by passing the traffic and driving on the sidewalk. Next thing I knew we were also on the sidewalk and our driver was grinning back at us.
If we are going to the airport or if it is a special occasion we hire Mun Singh to drive us around in his classic Delhi Ambassador taxi. The back seat of an Ambassador feels like you are sitting on a couch, it’s great. We love the metro, living in Delhi would be much more difficult without it. But, on principle public transportation is great. But there are days I wish I had that white Ambassador and driver.
