As a bit of light relief from politics and world affairs,
here is a traveller’s tale I posted on Facebook last year. It’s the sort of
thing that makes for a great story in retrospect but is just a bit
nerve-racking while it’s happening.
Sometimes India
can catch you out.
The
work day was done. I was back at the hotel and just needed to get to the
airport. I didn't have any Rupees but I had been assured by one of the new cool
tech CEOs of India's cyber hub that Uber works just fine here.
I
switched on roaming data and opened the Uber app. A little bit of trial and
error found where I was and where I needed to be and my car would be here in 7
minutes. I waited on the roadside outside the hotel where eight lanes of cars
and three of motorbikes and tuktuks were wrestling for space on the two lane
road. A Maruti Suzuki drew up - the make and model I was waiting for. The first
six characters of the 10 digit number plate matched the one in the Uber app and
I didn't have time to check any more as the hotel security guard threw my bag
into the back seat. The small dark-haired, dark-skinned driver looked more or
less like the blurry picture Uber had given me. So I got in the front seat and
he took off. Slowly.
The
Uber app said "Congratulations, you're on your way"* and all seemed
well until about half an hour later by which time we had moved almost half a
mile in traffic now at least twelve lanes wide on a four lane road. Then he
turned to me and said
"Hindi,
Hindi, Hindi, Hindi, Uber shake head shake head".
This was
a worry. Did I mention I had no Rupees? I did to him at that point, but his
English was on a par with my Hindi and I didn't think it was worth trying
Spanish or French.
So on
we went. At one stage the traffic swelled to about 15 lanes across at a point where
two four-lane roads met. Cars were going sideways to eke out a couple of metres
of forward movement. Then we got to the toll gate where a scruffy youth came to
demand something in Hindi. The driver demanded as well and I pointed out,
perhaps superfluously that I don't speak Hindi. Eventually the driver gave the
youth money and he got back a slip of paper that he placed on the dashboard.
Less than five minutes later we had advanced three metres and passed through
the toll gate. Then there were twenty lanes of traffic on a six lane road so
progress continued as before.
Eventually
the traffic thinned out a bit and we took less than ten minutes to cover the
last mile which included several security gates with bored-looking soldiers
controlling access to the airport precincts. That's when the fun really
started.
Arriving
at the airport terminal the driver jumped out and took my bag from the back
seat. I had been telling him for some time, in English, by mime and through the
medium of interpretive dance that I had no Rupees. I offered him US Dollars
and/or Euros but he didn't seem very happy about that.
"Hindi
hindi hindi hindi hindi"
he
said, now really quite agitated. I said
"I
can't give you what I don't have"
and
shoved the greenbacks towards him again but his reply was predictable. I said
again that I didn't have anything else and started to walk towards the door of
the terminal. This really didn't amuse him and he engaged the services of
another Hindi-speaking driver who was just standing around to berate me a bit
more. At least that's what I assume he was doing. Did I mention that I don't
understand Hindi?
I
spotted an ATM. The answer to a prayer surely. Well it would have been if it
had worked.
Then
the driver spotted an ATM inside the terminal. I said
"If
I go in there I won't be able to come back out",
which
is true but all he said was
"Hindi
hindi hindi"
so I
went inside. Sure enough the ATM he had seen didn't work either. At that point
I seriously considered walking away. He couldn't follow me into the terminal
and, not being an actual Uber driver, he had no record of my identity. But my
conscience remained in control and I reminded myself that this was just a bloke
trying to put food on his family's table. So I walked the length of the
terminal to find an ATM that did actually work. I drew out a thousand Rupees,
way over the odds for the taxi ride but I supposed he deserved a bit extra for
the buggeration. Then I hiked back to the door where I had come in and
persuaded the soldier on guard to let me lean across him to pass out the loot
to the driver who had been waiting patiently for my return. On seeing the bank
notes he gave a delighted grin and said
"Thank
you sir!"
which
may have been his only words of English apart from "airport". Still,
that's four more than my knowledge of Hindi.
When I eventually arrived home I had an email from Uber to say
that I had ridden 0.7 km at a cost of 16.8 Rupees on Friday evening. It appears
that not only did I get into a car that was not my Uber, but also that someone
else did get into mine and had a free ride at my expense. I can live with that.
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