Today I embarked on my first journey outside of the ICRISAT
campus. The world inside the ICRISAT campus is an American oasis in a desert of
a developing nation. These may seem like harsh words, but Indians and
foreigners alike will say this regarding the campus.
We started our journey at 10:15am in the morning, meeting in
the housing lobby. We were planning on heading to the entrance of the campus
and catching a Rickshaw to a market about 5 km away (3 miles). Our walk to the
entrance was quite pleasant, trees could be heard blowing in the wind and on
either side of us were demonstration crops of all the latest and most
productive varieties ICRISAT had recently created. We got to the entrance and
waved to the guards as we exited the sanctuary of ICRISAT into the unknown.
Right off the bat things got interesting. I found myself
being told by the experienced Spaniards (they have been traveling a lot in
India) that we had to cross the street in order to flag down a Rickshaw into
the outskirts of Hyderabad. I looked at the four lanes of honking, cantankerous
vehicles and my instinct sirens were blaring “there is no way in H@%# you are
crossing that street.” None of the vehicles were going to stop for us and the
Spaniards insisted that I just start walking. I sucked in my gut, took a quick
prayer, and stepped into what I thought would be my premature funeral. All of a
sudden I was amidst a raging torrent of metal death traps on wheels. Cars
swerved all around me, bikes were honking, and I, along with my companions
crossed the street with as much dignity as we could muster. Upon reaching the
other side-mind you there are no sidewalks- we waved down the nearest Rickshaw.
After a couple of moments of confused pointing and the butchering of the place
name we sought to go, the four of us, and our driver were on our way to the
market.
Now a Rickshaw, is a three wheeled, golf cart sized vehicle,
with a motorcycle sized engine in it. The vehicle has a roof but no doors. You
are open to, and unprotected from the asphalt environment around you. I was
told and have even seen 10 people in a single one of these Indian taxies. How
they do it…….I have no godly clue. Even with the five of us, including the
driver, it was tight. When I first got in the Rickshaw I was immediately told
to keep all body parts within the ever so slight protection of the Rickshaw.
Moments later I found out why as a bus packed with people passed only a foot
from us. All I can say is the streets are like a mad house. Cars, Richshaws,
motorcycles, bikes, people, and animals are all moving in no uniform way or
direction. I would love to see the stats for accidents on a per day basis.
The drive to the market took about 15 minutes. In those
fifteen minutes I think I developed acute asthma, as I was now finally being
exposed to the atrocious air quality present in Hyderabad. I was breathing dust
and fume of all sorts. My lungs and throat burned from breathing this air (and
still kind of do). I could only think of how sorry I felt for these people who
have to live in this all of the time. By some miracle we made it to our
destination. We piled out of the Rickshaw as cars and bikes whizzed past us.
People were everywhere and my senses we having trouble computing the immense
commotion all around. We each paid the driver 10 rupees (about 17 cents) and
started for the market.
Immediately we stood out like sore thumbs. Mothers with
children, and the lame came up to us asking for money. I was told this would
happen and put on a stern face and kept walking. The women in our group were a
little more vulnerable. The locals were more persistent with them. It was a
really overwhelming site. To see all of these incredibly poor, crippled, and
dirty people on the streets. Nothing is more real than actually being and
living an experience you have only heard or seen in books and on TV. I feel so
much for them, and hope one day we can change the lives that they live now.
Our walk in the market took us through several streets of
buildings with various stores from shoes and clothing to fresh fruits and meat.
The whole time cars and bikes are only feet from us honking their horns in
protest of the congestion. We stopped at a store selling shawls. Like this and
many other stores it consisted of an open room similar to a storage unit. I
giant garage door would be used to close the store at the end of the day. The
Shawls were beautiful and came in more colors than you could poke a stick at.
Maybe I will buy one before I leave for a special someone back home…..or who
knows, I may be dead by then.
We perused through various other stores for the next hour
taking in all the new sights and sounds. The meat market was especially
interesting. Meat was hanging from various stands out in the sun (I can’t
imagine the food born diseases created here) and live animals could be seen in
the back. I was told if you requested you could get them to butcher a live
animal for you right-then-and-there. The Spaniards split up from Madina and I
to do some more shopping. I stayed with Madina, and went with her to get food
since she had not had breakfast. I didn’t eat because I did not want to take my
chances. People are not used to seeing tall white people or black people and
now that we were together, we stuck out like sore thumbs. People starred at us
from all around and at times would point at us and get the attention of others
to look. It was very weird and I have still not worked out the words to
describe the emotions it conjured.
Before this blog gets to long I will end with one of the
many other exciting and eye-opening sites I saw today. After Madina ate, we
walked outside of the restaurant into the street. Loud music and talking could
be heard on loud speakers. Thirty meters from us a crowd was forming and were
adding to the congestion of the vehicles on the street; this crowd was
literally blocking the traffic in the street. The next thing I knew gun-shot
sounds could be heard and people were dispersing in all different directions. I
didn’t know what to do but stayed where I was, protected behind some vehicles.
Moments later I realized these gun-shot sounds were the noise of fire crackers
and approaching through the crowd was a caravan of pink colored flags and
vehicles. People were surrounding the cars and banging on drums. At this I
moved in to investigate and turned on my video camera just in case something
crazy was about to happen. Out stepped a politician of some sort, he was
immediately over taken by people and kind of shoved along to a makeshift podium
where he began a speech. People gathered around and we stayed a little bit to
enjoy the visual chaos.
At that, we met up with the Spaniards and headed by to the
safety and comforts of ICRISAT.
The Rickshaw ride back was just as crazy as the first!!!
The group of us consisted of :
Gloria- Spanish
Antonio-Spanish
Madina- African ( I forget which country)
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