Day 04: Sobering Realizations

Day 04:

We arrived in Kochi pretty strung out, but excited to finally be starting this madness. We were going to just make it to the hotel were everyone was meeting to pick up their Rickshaws. We didn't know how we were going to start the rally today as we felt like walking dead.

The cab ride to Fort Kochi from the airport made us all consider taking religion more seriously. There seemed to me no way in hell 3 naive Americans were ever going to survive 20 feet of Indian roadway.

The Indian people are some of the friendliest people I have ever met, until they get into a vehicle. The roads are complete and utter chaos. There are stray dogs everywhere. Cows, monkeys, cats, people on bicycle-looking, cobbled-together creations, hauling 4,000 bananas - all zigzaging around like drunken Aeroflot stewardesses. Add to that zillions of auto rickshaws, trucks, buses 10 times past capacity, not to mention the herds of people walking in the streets - and you have terror incarnate. We felt defeated. Real, childlike fear at what lay ahead.

We got to the hotel and made it to the school grounds were the rickshaws were. Almost everyone was there already. Noticeable absent was Team Rajastan Raiders (Nathan McClain's team), who oddly enough we bumped into at the airport bag claim in Kochi. Everyone was painting their Rickshaws and covering them with stickers. Everyone seemed a little nervous and very excited.

We painted one of our Rickshaws and left the other one pristine for photos.

The team from Sweden gave us the idea of trying to buy a roof rack. We have lots of gear. More then can fit into the Rickshaws easily. We walked around a bit and found an autorickshaw cabbie with a rack on this vehicle. With some sign language he offered to buy it right off him. He motioned us to hop in and took us on a ride through the side streets of Kochi. We wondered if we had made the right decision.

He took us to his house where he had another autorickshaw on blocks with a rack he was willing to sell. His 'house' was a series of shacks, up a narrow dirt track with chickens, goats and cats milling about along with crowds of kids playing. This was our first up close interaction with the locals on their home turf. Boys came up and gawked at us while the women shyly peaked out of doorways. We were a serious novelty. The first of almost non-stop reactions from people all over India.

We drove our now "pimped-out" rickshaw back to the school, with only a little help from our new richshaw driver friend. It is a bit hard to not stall out and scary when something is hurtling it's way towards you.

At this point we decided that attempting the roads out of town would be suicide. We needed supplies, more practice driving, and a good night's rest. That's exactly what we did.

The hotel where we picked up our info packet was booked solid but they were able to get us a room down the road a bit. It was a modest room with 2 single beds and a "mattress" they brought in for the floor.

Bathrooms in India have a large bucket with a small plastic pitcher in lew of toilet paper. Luckily we are packing our own as we have no idea what we are supposed to do with the pitcher. We do know that whatever is done is accomplished with the left hand by the locals. As a result, everyone appears to be right-handed when it comes to just about any other things requiring hands.

Anthony //