Day 72 at sea; Mar 18, 2011
We were greeted by dancers and some rather interesting and colorful oversized plants. Since we didn’t get clearance from the ship until 11 am we decided to eat lunch before heading out. We had planned to hook up with another couple to share a cab, but alas, everyone had already gone. We finally decided to walk to the Taj Hotel which was 2 k away. We got as far as the port gate and were swarmed by cab and Tuc-Tuc drivers. One voice seemed to rise above the others and he offered to take us to the hotel for only one dollar. He was a very handsome young man and his tuc-tuc looked fairly new. Think golf cart with three wheels and a little more power.
Anyway we employed him for the ride and since we wanted to go the city to see a couple of sights, he insisted on being our driver. He waited for us at the Taj—a beautiful plush hotel on the water’s edge. Security guards and gates kept the poor of society out. The driver stayed outside the gate. We enjoyed the grounds and drinks in a lovely restaurant and eventually wandered back out.
Defir, our driver jumped up from where he’d been waiting with a number of other drivers and ran to get his tuc-tuc. This is where the excitement or should I say, terror, began. It took about forty minutes to get to St. Andrews church, our destination, and let’s just say that the worst you have heard about India is true. Garbage everywhere—smells like you wouldn’t believe. While there was a line down the middle of the road to separate traffic, no one seemed to pay any attention to it. Bikes, tuc-tucs, buses cars and people shared the narrow streets narrowly missing each other. We held on white knuckled as we passed hundreds of street vendors and beggars. The poorest of the poor. No wonder Mother Theresa had such a heart for India. It is painful to see this. You want to help so much, but we were told not to give anything to any of them or we would be swarmed and basically trapped. We were also told that some will fake injury or main themselves and even their children so that people will take pity on them and buy their wares or give them money for whatever purpose.
Past all of this we went as Defir proudly showed us the area where he lives with his wife and two children. He invited us to come to his place for tea, but we declined. (This is a ploy to get the tourist to give them more money. Our cab fare was whatever we wanted to pay.) We finally reached the church and after looking around and taking photos, we asked Defir to take us back to the ship. But first, he said, we had to stop at his brother’s shop—his uncle’s place, where his mother works and his wife and on and on. Ron had to firmly tell him over and over, no shopping—go straight to the ship. The “shops” lined the streets, where many of the people slept. The traffic was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I had to close my eyes more than once, fearing we’d smash into something. It was terrifying at times as Defir honked his horn and came to with half an inch of a bike or bus or a person. A harrowing experience to say the least.
We finally arrived home and Defir let us off at the gate. He was not allowed inside the port area. He gave us a card so we could tell people coming out to hire him. Unfortunately for Defir, people were coming back to the ship, not going out. We paid him a little more than the going rate.
We are alive, have probably gained a few gray hairs, but I would hire a tuc-tuc again. I would spend a little more time seeing more of the sites—find a reputable market and not be so frightened. I would take a boat ride and explore the shore and I would spend some time in the country and maybe not so much in the city.
Now, we have another sea day before we dock in Mumbai (Bombay). Will it be more of the same? Worse? We shall see.
No comments:
Post a Comment