traffic

Teresa and I stop traffic regularly, but not at all because of our appearance.

We walk into traffic and put our hands on cars to stop them.

We both have travel experience so we came in bolder than many other travellers but our boldness has increased exponentially.

Traffic here is stupid and drives us nuts. There is constant honking. The word constant was chosen intentionally.

Everyone constantly fights for every inch of space. Lanes are irrelevant and it makes sense that the little people in my class don't know how to form lines because drivers don't either.

Competing for limited space are auto rickshaws, foot rickshaws (men running/carrying carts), bicycle rickshaws, yellow taxis,

Uber's, dogs, busses, cars, motorcycles and mopeds and pedestrians. 

The timid and hesitant will not survive in India.

To get places you need to be aggressive and boldly go where no man has gone before, or just follow his lead. Step into traffic. Hold up your hand to vehicles letting them know you intend to continue passing. They'll honk. Sometimes they look like they won't stop, but most often they do.

We have walked through congestion thicker than London's fog. I have sucked in my gut and tried to be taller than mirrors to get through some spaces. 

Every road crossing is an adventure.

Teresa and I have had many instances where we've pulled each other back: she does that more often for me than vice versa. She has often grabbed my backpack and pulled me, saving me from becoming instantly intimate with a motorcycle or car. There are so many layers of traffic to pay attention to! After I get through three safely I figure I'm in the clear but this is often not the case.

Yesterday we were a quarter of the way through a major road: we had crossed half of the oncoming traffic side. There was plenty of room for a bus to go behind us but it decided to head straight for us. We didn't move (we couldn't as there were cars and motorcycles in front of us). The bus came straight for us. Moving busses don't intimidate us: try another tactic. Clearly it eventually stopped because I'm writing this entry.

I've had my elbow hit by a side mirror two times and I've been grazed multiple times but today Teresa won the "who can get run over by a car first" game. We were crossing the street and she was admiring a lady's sari while rubbing her eye. I said "car" three times but I didn't want to treat her like a kid so I wasn't overly aggressive. She kept walking. A red car kept driving. Car is coming on our left. Teresa is to my left. Teresa steps with her right foot and the car keeps driving and soon she can't move because the front right tire is on her foot. I motion to the driver to back up. He does. She's free and we walk to our schools. She's fine. Tires are rubber and air: not tough enough to break foot bones. Had it been her left foot it would have been completely run over instead of just stuck: maybe that would have ended differently but we'll never know until, maybe, when we cross the road tomorrow.

It was a red car which are rare in Kolkata. An important detail to know.