Bike for Orphans

On Thursday the 24th I had a long day and after 130 km into a headwind was worn out and with the distance remaining to Chennai and only a few cycling days left, knew I wasn't going to make it. I arrived in a small town without lodging and approached a man standing by a van and asked if he would be willing to carry me and my bike to the town 1 biking day ahead. In very limited English he told me how much it would cost so I agreed and loaded my bike in the van. I sat in the front row behind my new friend and a driver but we just sat there for about 10 minutes. I asked why we weren't moving and my friend said he was trying to find someone that speaks English. I wasn't sure why but he shortly found someone so I stepped out of the van. I told the translator that I was on my way to Chennai but with only a few days to get there am running out of time so need a ride to the next large city of Villapurum. He told me that my friend here was a broker who arranges travel plans for clients. He would take me to the City and arrange for a place to sleep. I told him I really didn't need a broker, just someone to drive me and that I could find a place on my own. The broker jumped in and told the banker that it would be much better if he provided this service as I was new to India and a foreigner, that I could not possibly manage on my own as there are many people out there who will try and rip me off (oh the irony). I assured the translator that I have been here 42 days and have never had a problem finding a lodge.

I was told that the broker could accommodate me in the van ensuring I would get there and then would find a lodge and so I finally asked how much he would charge for this service. He agreed to lower his fee for me (I started laughing when I heard this) to the equivalent of about $1. I had to see this guy in action so I agreed. The broker, appearing to have just concluded the negotiations for world peace, had a big smile and announced that we all need to have some tea together so we sat down at a roadside stall. The bill came and he deftly slid it in front of me to pay. This guy is really starting to amuse me so I paid the 20 cents and he slapped me on the back, we are now buddies for life.

It was time to leave so we piled into the van and drove the few hours. Prior to leaving I bought a bottle of lime juice that is very popular here and my broker, sitting in the passenger seat turned around and asked if he could have a drink. I gave him the half empty bottle and he finished it and then proceeded to take a nap. I don't know what I would have done without him.

We arrived in the town and drove to a pretty standard hotel. The broker assured me that he knew all the hotels as he works with them regularly on behalf of his other clients. We walked to the front desk and no one there had any idea who he was or why he was there so I simply asked if they had a room for me. They did so I signed in and the broker took the key. I carried my 4 panniers and my dry bag and he carried the very light handlebar bag to my room. He opened the door and in all seriousness said that he did a great job finding me a room. He then went into the bathroom and spent 15 minutes in there taking a shower. When he came out he saw that I had laid out some clothes on the bed which I was going to change into after my cold shower (he used all the hot water) and he asked if he could have my shirt. I said "what?" and he again pointed at my shirt and then at himself. I said "no, I am not giving you my shirt" and then gave him the $1 as agreed. He then pointed to his mouth and hinted that he should be given more money for dinner and I said no, a deal is a deal and told him to leave. He always maintained his big smile and at least now I know what a hotel broker in India does, absolutely nothing. It's a good thing he was around to protect me from people who might try and rip me off. That guy is something else and he sure gave me a few laughs.

I continued north on Friday to the small city of Chengalpattu, a short ride from Chennai. It was another reminder of the type of towns outside of the main tourist route, with very busy streets and little in the way of services. I asked around for a hotel and was directed to what I heard was the nicest but they were full so had to ask for another (where's my broker when I need him). I went to the lobby of a questionable place but had little choice but accept as it was getting dark and I was not prepared to go back into the madness outside. The clerk was about 95 years old and hard of hearing and kept asking my name but since he couldn't hear, would repeatedly yell loudly. I said maybe it would be best if I just wrote it down and proceeded to fill out the forms required of every place in India. For a country where almost anything goes, it is a little strange that they are so preoccupied with getting tourists to document every detail of their whereabouts in India. A half hour later and with the deaf clerk satisfied that all the I's were dotted and t's crossed, I went up to my room. I won't be spending a lot of time in this bathroom which is fine since there was no running water either.

As I wind down my time here, that picture sums up one of the great contradictions of India. The people here are very conscience of cleanliness as it relates to their personal hygiene yet in many of the rural areas there is little concern about their surroundings. Today I was biking through a small village and a group of rural ladies were walking along the road and one yelled something to me so I stopped to say hello. They did not know English and when you have illiterate (my assumption) people, they have a hard time understanding how someone cannot know their language so would simply repeat the same thing over and over. For some reason some people think that if I don't understand their language, it will become clear if they say it louder. We resorted to sign language and realized they stopped me so that I could give them some water. I think that is a first for me, usually people stop me and ask if I want water but no one ever asked me for some. I gave them a bottle I had just purchased. The interesting thing that I have seen over and over is that when the Indians drink out of a shared bottle, they don't put the bottle to their lips but hold it a few inches above and pour it in, not that easy to do. I found it a little funny that these ladies were walking without shoes on a street littered with garbage and cow dung but they wouldn't put their lips to a bottle that was shared. I guess they didn't want the germs.