Age of Aquarius

Rickshaw drivers are NUTS! I have always had the impression that if you are going to be in the transportation business via taxi, tuk-tuk, rickshaw, or even those guys who are on foot pulling a little cart behind them you need to maintain a little bit of an edge. Anyway last night Tony and I experienced the crem de la crem of crazy drivers, and the best part is it wasn't his driving that was hilarious or weird, it was HIM! This particularly saucy individual was named Stalin, like the communist dictator. That should have been the first sign.

Something about Tony that I was not aware of before we started traveling together but absolutely adore is that he can speak gibberish. It's legit! I have a feeling that this pig latin-esque sounding language will come in handy during our travels together since everyone speaks English and having private conversations in public places aren't really possible. So my next task is to learn gibberish. It would have come in handy had I known this secret language invented by kids so we could express our fears of impeding doom to each other without upsetting Stalin. This is something I feel I need to work on.

So back to the rickshaw ride of insanity. We peer pressured ourselves into getting into this rickshaw just as it was getting dark so we wouldn't have to walk around the city at night. Little did we know though that the parts of town Stalin took us speeding through would be partly like slums, with families living in cardboard box houses that were about 5 feet tall and 7 feet wide. Women were cooking dinner on a small bon fire from blackened pots. The fires were aflame in the middle of the street so as not to light the cardboard house on fire. We had to dodge and weave around these on our ride down this slummy street. Laundry was drying hanging on power lines and neighbors shouted at each other in harsh Tamil. We went speeding through though never stopping. I wasn't scared, it is just another part of town down this back alley, some kids even waved and started screaming Hello! Hello! in English. It was probably the first time though that I have seen someone up close who made their home out of cardboard. Very surreal experience for me.

After we busted out of the slums we went careening around a corner of 8 lanes of traffic at a terrifying speed that made the images of twisted metal, torn flesh, and road rash instantly leap to mind. It probably didn't help matters that Stalin was letting out what sounded like a battle cry as he thrust his arm through the window and punched the air like he was a gladiator getting ready to charge the traffic. Once we reached a minimal terror cruising speed on the straight road Stalin declared his love for us.

Stalin: I like you (points to Tony). I like you (points to me). We good friend!
Juli and Tony: We like you too Stalin
Stalin: You give me kiss (points to me then to his cheek)
Juli: Hahahah (nervous laughter)

Then we joke around about kissing for a while (this whole time im wearing my faux wedding ring and holding Tony's hand) and finally Tony leans over and gives Stalin a big fatty kiss on the cheek. He seemed to like that, but he still want some lovin' from me.

Stalin: Now you (points to me then to his cheek)
Juli: Stalin that would be cheating (I point to Tony)
Tony: She only kiss me
Stalin: But it's French
Juli: Well it may be French to kiss on the cheek but I'm not French, and you aren't French... so no French!
Stalin: But it's French
Juli: No French Stalin!

Tricky devil. Then because this whole situation is just so ridiculous and also because I am on India sensory overload I start to laugh. I don't hold anything back, I laugh full force out loud. Stalin laughs back, some crazy contorted throat laugh that is the beginning of our laugh-a-thon. What proceeded over the next 2-3 minutes was a series of crazy laughs going back and forth from driver to passenger. Stalin would throw out a titter and I would come back with a high pitched laugh ending in a snort, the beginning of our crazy laugh competition. we would go back and forth with any and all crazy laughs and any strange laugh related sounds we could think of. There was snarling, whooping, giggles, small chuckles, big chuckles, stifled laughter, snickering, cackling, guffawing, HO HO HO-ing Santa style, and there was even a coyote howl at some point, I think that was Tony's ingenious contribution to our non-verbal communication game. It was nuts! Then Stalin points to me again,

Stalin: Now you (points to his cheek)
Juli: No Stalin
Tony: I'll kiss you again (Tony kisses Stalin again on his other cheek. Stalin likes)
Stalin: Now you (points to me then his cheek)
Juli: I only kiss him (I point to Tony and my faux wedding ring)
Stalin: But it's French
Juli: (sigh) Stalin we have already been through this. NO FRENCH STALIN!

Maybe he was trying to to try to impress me into giving him a kiss, but next thing we know Stalin busts out a boogie. He starts to do these funkadelic dance moves with arms flailing in all directions but mostly they stick out the sides of the open air vehicle in a sort of wave/convulsing motion which could be misconstrued as awkward traffic signalling to any unknowing innocent driver behind us. He even added in a little shoulder roll for some extra pizzaz. There were spirit fingers too. Lots of spirit fingers! And lest I forget the boobie shaking, let me tell you Stalin is a master of the moob shake.

This whole time we are still careening out of control mostly because his arms are jutting in all directions instead of hanging on to the steering wheel. But we finally made it back to our guest house safe and in one piece. Stalin gave us his phone number and said that if we needed anymore rides to call him up, then after one more attempt to squeeze a kiss out of me and being rejected he took off, blocking 3 lanes of traffic during his Austin Powers turn and sped away. Tony and I just stared at each other with that dumbfounded "Did that really just happen?" look for hours after our Stalin encounter. Seriously unreal.