Travel Log November 19, 2005

Agra - India

What is a rickshaw you ask....there are two forms from what I have gathered. There is a motor rickshaw and a cycle rickshaw. Although different in style, function and make up is relatively the same. They each have three wheels, they each have a driver, they each serve as a means of transportation for the masses, they each can move relatively easy between traffic, they each do not stop for pedestrians and they each have a tendency to allow over-capacity in their vehicle.

I have become familiar with the rickshaw, both the motor and the cycle for it is the means of transportation for me as well. I have taken many of rickshaw's from point A to B and I have even overcapacitated the vehicle for on one occasion I invited a family of 4 to occupany me to a bazaar.

On a warm late afternoon in Agra with an afternoon left in the day, I hired a rickshaw. Out of the nearly 50 rickshaw's that pound on you outside the Red Fort, I did not hire the many young cyclist who begged for attention or the many motor-rickshaws that followed me out the steps to their waiting point.

I turned left and hired a man with a kind voice and a green turban. A man that gave the lowest price at a rate of 5RS or 10US cents for the 2 kilometer ride. I hired the man that must pull my weight along with the carriage weight through people, water, hills and mass traffic. I hired a strong man with good english that became my friend. I hired a man named Vanwari Lal.

On this day, the day in front of the Red Fort, I was in no hurry. No hurry at all and the kind voice beckoned me. After fighting up a hill, through traffic and a bazaar, my rickshaw driver safely delivers me to my point of destination and he waits. He waits for I am in no hurry and I decide to hire him for the remainder of the afternoon, an afternoon where I will be treated to a tour of Itimad-ud-Dalah, an esquisite palace that has been nicknamed the "Baby Taj" and a sunset on the backside of the Taj Mahal...an impressive, quiet view from the sandbanks of the Yamuna River.

As we travel, I notice that people on the side of the road, laugh as the man with his head down, pumps each leg to pull the weight of his hire. They laugh at his slowness, they laugh at me for hiring a cycle rickshaw for the road is long and filled with potholes and traffic. But I do not laugh for I find my new friend kind, gentle and protective of his newest employer.

From time to time I ask if he is okay. "Yes, Madame I am fine" he says, "no worries, I am strong" and a strong man he is. Strong in mind, heart and physically.

Well after sunset, my rickshaw driver safely delivers me to my hotel and I agree to a subsequent day of his company and service. He arrives as requested promptly at 9:30 AM and we continue our friendship and journey. I learn he as always been a rickshaw driver, that he has two sons full grown, that his wife had died a few years back. I feel safe as he protects me from lude comments that I do not understand and begging children or curious grown-ups. He does not understand the fascination of Indian men for western women for he says "that all women may look different but they are all the same flavor" and I smile at his comment.

On this, the second day, we travel far through small villages and bad roads to a destination that I do not recollect for I did not hire him this day for the tourist attraction but for his company. He stops and purchases me a dandelion necklace for safety and a good journey and I smile.

We travel slowly and he stops upon my request to have tea, see the countryside and have conversation. We travel all day, with little rest and yet his strong legs continue to pump the metal pedals. The pedals of a bike without gears, or brakes, an old metal bike that has his carriage and company attached.

He estimates that our journey covered 40 Kilometers and I would agree for the amount of his service on this day took well over 8 hours before he delivered me safely well after sunset to my hotel.

At the end of the day, my new friend collects his fare, a fare well deserved. A fare of 200 RS + 50RS tip or a total of 5US dollars. A cheap fare for our pockets but a weeks fare for my kind friend who will take a day of rest on the following day.

I bid him farewell with some regret, for my rickshaw driver was kind...my rickshaw driver was a wise man...my rickshaw driver was strong....my rickshaw driver was Vanwari Lal and my rickshaw driver was 60 years of age.