Drama in a Rickshaw

Picture this. You are in an auto-rickshaw which is stuck in an interminable traffic jam. It is over forty degrees and sweat is glistening on every inch of your skin; you can feel your clothes wet with perspiration against the plastic covered seat of the rickshaw. The vehicle is laden with bags of stuff that you are moving to your friend's house. At the side of rickshaw a succession of children's faces appear; they are selling magazines, which you are declining to buy. But it is good-humoured; the kids responding to your broken Hindi with smiles, as well as escalated pleas to purchase their wares.

Suddenly a clamour of noise, colour and confusion descends on the other side of the auto - a group of four or five women in saris have waded through the traffic to the middle of the four-lane road. They are wailing and shouting and gesticulating at you. Their issue is obvious; one amongst them has her midriff exposed, showing the swollen, distended belly of late pregnancy. It is a shock. The women are garbling away in Hindi; but the gist is clear - they want to take the pregnant woman to hospital. They say they don't want money, but the use of the rickshaw. What do you do?

Well, this is what I did when it happened to me today. First of all I felt confused and overwhelmed - there was so much noise and people. I looked to the auto driver for help, an indication of what to do, and asked in a mix of Hindi and English if he would take the woman to hospital. The auto driver didn't seem fazed and did not indicate that he would take these passengers if I got out. . Simultaneously I assessed my situation; if I vacated the rickshaw here I would be stranded in the middle of a main road with a load of bags - but it was a small consideration in the circumstances.

That's when the thought crossed my mind; is this a scam? I don't know which is worse - the hideousness of seeing a pregnant woman groaning and crying in the middle of a busy road in the searing heat, or the fact that this suspicion popped almost immediately into my head. The noise from the women was reaching a crescendo; I couldn't think straight. I again asked the driver if he would go to hospital, but he was non-commital - I take that as a 'no' then. If only my Hindi were better.

I started scrambling round in my bag for some change. At this point the women seemed still to be saying that they didn't want money - just a ride to hospital. But as soon as I procured a hundred rupee note from my bag (twice the cost of the 15 minute rickshaw ride) the din instantly subsided and the women vanished from the side of the rickshaw.

I sat back a little overwhelmed and the driver shooed away the kids who were still at the other side of the rickshaw attempting a sale - you have to admire their tenacity. As I started thinking more about it, the more convinced I became that the women's plight wasn't genuine. I couldn't rely purely on the driver's reaction - I have seen people turn a blind eye to some terrible suffering here. Old people left to stand on buses, or being practically run over in the stampede to board a train; a beggar child being roughly shoved aside. But his evident lack of concern made me suspect he had seen this before.

However, what clinched it for me was this; on the whole Indian people are incredibly resourceful and ingenious. If that woman had really needed to be in hospital those women would not have been wandering in the middle of a busy road asking a foreigner, who could barely speak Hindi for help. Their community would have helped them, they would have found a smarter, more efficient way of getting the woman the help she needed. This is what gave the game away…but by the time I had thought all this through, the women of course, were long gone.

I arrived at Emily and Gabriela's and related the incident to them. Seasoned Delhi-ites that they are, they were able to confirm that this is just another of the many ways in which people try to make a quick buck in the city. I didn't know how I felt - slightly duped and foolish, and yes a little angry, but mostly just saddened. And appalled at the lengths that people have to, or are prepared to go to make money, or to survive? This type of scam felt particularly manipulative and cruel; but should it be excused if the motivation was desperation; the pressure of a multitude of hungry mouths to feed?

Once again events here in India leave me bewildered and unsure how to think or feel. I am uncomfortable in my own skin - painfully aware of my position of privilege and wealth; but should I accept that this makes me a 'legitimate target' for dishonesty and scams? Probably not, but it is hard to shake the sense that this is in someway the price I should expect to pay for being comparatively rich in a poor country. Again, my beliefs and values are called into question; my ability to make fair judgements tested. The yardsticks and measurements I would normally apply seem inadequate and unsound.

I don't want to give the impression that living here is tough for me - I really can't play that card now, as both my parents and sister can give first-hand testimonies that my life here is anything but difficult. Dramas like this are fairly common, but certainly not everyday. Nor do I want to paint a picture of Indians as a heartless, mercenary bunch. For every old person not given a seat, or begging child ignored, I have seen countless other kindnesses and considerations and courtesies paid (particularly when I was travelling with my parents - will come to that later). In fact, as little by little I come to better understand how things work here and learn to read the people and their culture better, I am increasingly awed by the warmth and kindness people show to me and towards each other.

And it is precisely these contradictions that make India a compelling, fascinating and stimulating (if extremely frustrating) place to live. Perhaps the reason I like it so much is because I have found in India a country that is way more intense, chaotic, melodramatic and full of contradictions than me - next to India I am completely rational and balanced - the epitome of cool calm, composure! Whatsmore, India does not permit you too much introspection about personal issues - there is too much happening around you, too many distractions, too many demands for your time and attention. There is too much that puts into perspective whatever worries or troubles you may have. Next to what India brazenly and unashamedly shoves in your face, personal concerns pale into paltry insignificance. Collision with other human beings and their lives in inevitable and it is virtually impossible to stay unaffected, uninvolved. I like that about here. I like it a lot.