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rickshaw run blogs jan 2014 North to south pan-india on a glorified lawnmower
for our second run April 2015 (west - east across the top 3000+ Km @ 40km/hr) go to DO blogspot
Generations to come will scarcely believe that such a one as this ever walked upon this earth in flesh and blood. ~~~ Einstein (about Gandhi) Delhi, India www.pratheep.com #Sugru is #fixing the future. In the natural learning framework there are seven stages of exposure. Globalization the second state it's where your brain comprehends the big picture, the context, it forms the nest for learning. The petri dish in which all experiences to follow will be mixed and held together. Our second state in India was Gujarat. Birthplace of Gandhi, location of the three "must not go under any circumstance" locations on the Southern Rickshaw Run. Big hills that require sophisticated air cooling systems rural life basics are punctuated with great infrastructure. Our preparation felt complete, we had #sugru on the butt plug of our inflatable kiwi to hold his air in. #Sugru held the new battery to the floor and our protector Ganesh to our tuk alter - we now had a place for everything and everything in it's place. We had this! We had everything except for the slip of paper with the no go places in Gujarat and the back up picture of the briefing power point slide that WFK took as we thought we had the slip of paper. We headed in to the big picture blind. Day three dawned dark, after two nights in cloud-nine-marshmallow beds, glamping at Manvar desert camp and as valued guest of Ajit Bhawan, Lorde royal. Well feasted with fine friends in Oms family environment emersion dinner. If any of the others had suggested we just put the tuk on a truck and linger in Jodphur I might have... Instead they were waving the tracking map of the brave bold who were already through Gujarat. We were lolling in the first state, waking up to the fact that the hardy who hit Barmer, Day 1 - may not have been that barmy. We had used all our excuses, sweeties spark sorted, shopping in the custody of India Post, we could now easily spot a maharajah in a crowd. There were no more five stars on the map. Getting the big picture in Gujarat is a staff Induction process. You can try and skirt around it, miss it out altogether, try going - the long way to learning. Maybe you decide you'll race through it, holding your breath. Or immerse yourself in it and wallow in the lesson. What ever path you choose - you can not not participate, defined as much by inactions as actions - Gujarat was the state that tested our preparation. Time to go to work. Rajasthan sensing we were slipping through her grip got real and delivered head on truck smashes a double fatality, bull rush with pink buses of death, 12 lane highways the width of 4, both sides moving 2-way through extreme road works and no road marking. We were reassured Gujarat roads would be amazing. Where there is military in India there is infrastructure. Huge wind turbine blades were on the road with us.We were masters of surfing; drafting trucks, running toll gates waving and smiling at police pull overs; we kept on tukking. We stood toes on the edge of the high diving board of crossing our first border. A wake up call at a local lodging house where our market mattresses are on top of stained beds and showers may or may not be heated by wood burners our accommodation budget smiled and got itchy. We were given a private room for dinner - to hide us as much as treat us. We carried the honour of runners, free use of a motorbike to go in search of fruit. Stepping over the bodies of truckies sleeping on the floor to leave early, the lodging service was faultless, but we stood out like beef burgers. Drinkers of alcohol, white, loud voices and free with our affection between men and women. It was the point when we could have turned around and climbed back down the ladder - but we jumped in over the border to our second state. Our unlimited data immediately stopped functioning. As did any presence of facilities on the road side. "Just label madam not real" blue dot blinking ceased to beat on a live map and if you needed to go you did. Gujarat is a dry state - Gandhi taught the lessons well. The sins of the western world are not visable. Previous runners may have created some bad rep, teams found no room at the inn to fit the rows of keys hanging behind reception. An advantage to unlimited data is booking on line we had Vadodara already locked in; Ahmedabad looked huge and too close we had pushed out the frame a bit far. Our longest day of endless monotony, chewing up the kms, scared we were travelling places we should not be, the police checks and toll stops more numerous we still ran them. A crew we were leap frogging had their auto commandeered by the officer they tried to ignore at a check point and were driven by him to the station to explain why four women would dare to be out alone, in a rickshaw ignoring a cordon. Adventurist job skill training stage 1 success when they giggled like little girls as instructed, gave photo opportunities and had chai masala to escape. Monkeys were sped past before we could see what they did with that. Knowing they could shred an auto of it's wiring faster than transmit a virus. Participants in another run more great race in format than our unsupported junket filled us in several states south that the monkeys were indeed the true bandits of India's roads, they trashed four of their tuks in seconds. With no data, and no clues, arriving at night into a modern Indian metropolis in rush hour there is only one outcome - find an tuk expert quickly and follow him through the mess. Keep an eye on his licence plate and ignore the bikes you hit or cars you sideswipe while keeping your eye on the prize. Our adrenalin rolled up to the Welcom Hotel filthy, thirsty and perhaps not that Welcom. Once we had showered and put on our posh clothes we were armed with a coveted licence to drink. In our rooms with wine bought from one of only 5 outlets in Vadodara handily in our hotel. Feeling more than a little disrespectful to Gandhi we toasted his peaceful endeavours. The door opened frequently to a person at the key hole, excellent proactive service or the secret service listening, wondering what we were getting up to. They rang us randomly with lost in translation assistance. Offering wireless codes at midnight, ironing boards to the wrong room but managing laundry at a speed that suggested the system was again working and that copies of our visas and documentation really had been taken for registration with the local police station. Islam swallowed me. At 176 million Muslims the Indian first were traders in Kerala and Gujarat is further up India's western coast. There has been tension in Gujarat and many have died for their cause. Birth rates of Muslim to Hindu are changing the face of India. Now 10 percent or so of India's population it seemed to us we had landed in the middle of the home state. Islam is audible, the call to prayer more than mantra. There is a silence too, people will not talk about the size or impact of elephant in the room, they won't tell you what you are doing to offend yet the lack of engagement is as palatable as a non veg kitchen. It's tangible in it's not touching of men in immaculate white dress. Visable as they oversee Hindu road gangs, are the merchants, the educators, politicians and property developers. Women in full cover - segregated, chaperoned and exotic. Advantages of being a runner and female are that the dirt and grime of the road and high malaria risk in Gujarat has us well covered. We have scarfs to keep warm against the morning and evening chill, #buff bandanas to cover hair or breathe through, clothed and not out after dark as none of us have cracked the seal on our anti malarials. Our state has changed. We don't feel as welcome here, people are as likely to look away or past you as look at you and children are cautioned not to approach for our give aways. Instead of WOW .. you are doing that faces we face WHY are you doing that? We've got the big picture and we are really out of context. We are the infidels and all our flaws are on display. Is it that we want out of Gujarat or that they really want us out? The big picture is like a trailer, the film where nothing bad has happened yet but the lighting and music put you in suspense. We pushed through it, covering as many kms with as few stops as possible. "Are you f'n serious?? As chai stops became why stop? The coast calling, rumours of a small haven, an independent state existing on the edge of it. Within striking distance the folk from Mumbai head to the sea and party. Gathering in groups in night clubs is a threat to bombing in Bombay so oasis like the bay of Daman has taken that place. Certain that Daman is the answer to ease our nerves we choose it as the third state of learning. Initiation. We vote that Gujarat become our fastest transit. We leave the state to those who love it and I think they are quite glad to see us go.
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