Delhi D-tales

There is only one way to survive the traffic in Delhi: don’t look.

Though the avenues of New Delhi are wide, paved and tree-lined, the thousands of vehicles–buses, little hunch-backed Ambassador Classic cars, auto-rickshaws (a close relative of our tricycle) and scooters for which India is world-famous–stream through in a cacophony of madness that somehow manages to have just enough order to get people where they want to go.

And with a surprising, astounding minimum number of smash ups and accidents. Vehicles–and limbs–often come to within millimeters of each other, and the right of way goes to the fearless and most aggressive. I don’t know if the "no eye contact" rule between drivers applies here, but if you can get the nose of your vehicle just a fraction of an inch ahead of the next guy, you’re go. (It would be prudent as this time to remember one other rule: never stick your hands and arms outside your vehicle window; resist the urge to point at the lovely buildings or even the cow sauntering leisurely along the road. And don’t scream, no matter how scared you may be.)

And let the next guy and his horn go hang. It’s a real toss up between China and India on where the horn blows the loudest and most frequent. I remember the driver who took us from the Xiamen airport to my mother’s village some five hours away. He drove the whole way with one hand on the horn and the other holding a cigarette. That we avoided falling into the ditch on the side of the narrow road or colliding with the oncoming trucks is a miracle that should be certified by the Vatican. The same rule seems to apply in Delhi–as long as I let you know I’m coming, it’s your job to stay out of my way and avoid hitting me. Or something like that.

Anyway, it works. Not just in Delhi, but in most big cities in India. In the two weeks we were there, through four cities, we didn’t have a single vehicular accident. We were stuck in floods and traffic for three and a half hours, we had a snake charmer threaten to have his cobra board our bus, we had to pay the taxi driver extra to have the air conditioner turned on, but there was no accident, not even a fender dent.

I guess this works so well, horn-blowing has been institutionalized: "Blow horn" or "Horn please" or "Sound horn" is painted in big, bright letters on the back of most trucks and buses.