Monday, May 21, 2012

5/9/12 The Kindness of Strangers

I moved from that closed restaurant to an open one for a late lunch.  I had delicious vegetarian curry and a mango lassi for lunch.  I sat reading "A Fine Balance"--a fantastic novel I actually read in Peace Corps but decided to re-read in India, as it is based here in the 1970s.  It tells the story of intersecting lives, and sucked me in completely--even the second time.  The waiter told me the restaurant was closing until dinner but invited me to a beautiful courtyard/garden area in the back where I sat and read until the rain started.  I moved into a small covered room with a tin roof under a tree with four peacocks perched loudly.  There I read as the thunderstorm rolled in, and while the storm raged around me.  It let up briefly and I thought the storm would clearn.  No such luck--another surge whipped leaves and branches into my little haven.  Finally I went through the courtyard and back into the restaurant, which had lost electricity thanks to the storm.  It was getting dark and I was eager to cross town for my hotel.  I was 20 Rupees short for my bill at the restaurant and offered to go to the ATM and come back.  They insisted tomorrow would be fine.  I walked through town, the bottom of my long white skirt in hand.  A man with a motorcycle offered to give me a ride.  I told him I had no money, but he just smiled, and said, "No money, madam."  I got on side-saddle, gripping his waist.  We only made it a few blocks before he told me the water was too deep to continue on the motorcycle.  I thanked him and dismounted, determined to walk through the water that was already halfway to my knee. 

I didn't make it far.  The street was disgusting, with the trash and animal feces floating to the top of the flooded street.  As I trudged through, all I could think of was another time I felt determined to cross (what I imagined to be) difficult terrain.  When I was about 10 years old, our horse cut his face all along his snout (?).  I was sent to my great aunt's house for help, as there was no electricity.  I trudged through what I'm sure looking back was just a few inches of snow with a flashlight, feeling that I must get to my aunt's house for help. 

In this present day scenario, however, I ended up sitting with two young men in the doorway of a music shop until the one said he had to close.  The other offered me a ride on his motorcycle, insisting I wait on the small ledge for him to come around.  He roared through the water and into the elevated unflooded street.  I had given up side saddle, and just tucked  skirt as well as I could between us.  He took me all the way to the door of my hotel and I shook his hand, thanking him repeatedly for his kindness.  He just smiled.  The hotel was dark when I returned and I finished my book by candlelight in my room, tears streaming down my face from thinking of the tragedy that met the book's characters.  The electricity came back on, and I switched on the TV, deciding to watch Con-Air until I fell asleep.

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