Into this scene Scott arrived. He jumped
off the airport bus and onto the pavement of the streets of
The light of day remains hidden behind some
think clouds. Scott is half-awake and, like the dawn, is caught between darkness
and light. He had landed the night before past
Now the light of day had come and he was in
the center of town but streets were strangely deserted. As he walked following
the vague outline of a
guidebook map he was approached by a swarthy man on foot.
“Oh, be careful, sir! There are many bad
people here in the early morning. Where are you going?”
Scott was the all-too-obvious foreign
traveler with blond hair and white, fair skin and an all too-large backpack and
digital camera hanging from a strap around his waist.
“Where are you going?” the man repeated,
“I will help you.”
Scott did not answer and the man was
obviously offended by his silence but not deterred.
Suddenly a Rickshaw drew up alongside both
of them, “Sir,” said the driver “where are you going? Tell me honestly and I
will take you there.”
Scott said, “I can find a place by myself?
I’m o.k. leave me alone.” Scott clutched the guidebook and tried to study the
map but he was not able to locate the exact place where he was standing at the
moment. His head was swimming with confusion. The streets were not well marked
and all the building looked the same. He had been warned about rickshaw drivers
and their many tricks and scams. Within him there was a lack of trust which he
found hard to erase.
A small crowd had gathered around him.
They were drawn to the confusion as a moth is drawn to the light.
“Please,” Scott pleaded, Please leave me
alone. I can find my way around by myself.”
“Sir, you cannot,” shouted the rickshaw
driver. “It is very dangerous around herein the early morning. There are
thieves lurking in shadows. People disappear and are never seen or heard from
again. Get into my rickshaw.” This was no longer an invitation but an order.
Scott began to feel threatened.
Another man came up to him. “Don’t trust
these drivers. They are all a bunch of liars. Come with me. I will take you to
a cheap, clean and safe hotel.”
“Don’t listen to him,” shouted the driver.
“He is a cheat! He always says bad things about rickshaw drivers. But, he is
the one who is dishonest!”
Scott’s head began to swim. He was dizzy
with confusion and did not know whom he should believe. The rickshaw driver, a
man of around twenty-six with thick black hair and black piercing eyes
continued. “Why don’t you trust me? I am an honest man. Please get into my
rickshaw.”
Scott felt threatened and wished they were
all gone so that he would be able to find a guesthouse by himself and without
interference.
The driver noticed his discomfort and said
sadly and philosophically, “You don’t trust me but in life you must trust
people or you cannot live. If you trust no one you will be a lonely man for the
rest of your life. Please get into my rickshaw.”
Scott paid no attention to the driver and
continued to walk in the perceived direction of the guesthouse he was looking
for. The driver rode his rickshaw beside him Scott felt as though he were being
stalked.
“Please, leave me alone!”
“No, I will follow you till you are safely
out of harm’s way!”
“Get away from me! Get out of here!”
“You cannot stop me from driving my rickshaw.”
Indeed, it was true. There were no
policemen in sight and the only men loitering along the streets and at corners
would never come to his defense should he need it.
Scot continued to
walk and he found himself soaked in his own sweat and drenched with
perspiration. The rickshaw driver realized that he could not dissuade Scott
from his own determination and gave up. He stopped his rickshaw and shouted
something at Scott in his native language which was lost in the air.
Scott checked his map again and after
studying it in greater detail he was able to locate his exact position in near
Suddenly the soft murmur of an engine was
approaching and Scott turned to look back. Another rickshaw driver was approaching.
The city seemed to be a nest of drivers festering like an infestation of
unwanted insects. They preyed upon the new arrivals to their city and sought to
confuse them until they became weary and lost their defenses and succumbed to
their wills.
The
rickshaw driver came up alongside Scott who now began to show signs of being
worn down by stress and bleary-eyed from the lack of a good night’s sleep.
“Where are you going, sir?” the driver
asked politely.
“Leave me alone.”
“I am just trying to be helpful.”
“Leave me alone.”
“It is too early in the morning to have
had a bad day.”
“I don’t want a ride.”
“Ah, sir, but welcome to my country. You
are my guest.”
“I am sick and tired of you rickshaw
drivers. I just had a bad experience with one and I don’t want to do business
with another.”
“Oh, but we are not all alike.” The driver
held out his hand to Scott and spread out his five fingers.
“Look sir, what do you see?”
“I see your hand.”
“No, you don’t. You see five fingers. They
are all attached to one hand but no two fingers are alike. Each one is
different.” After a pause he continued. “I will take you to your destination
for five rupees.”
Scott stopped and could not repress a
smile. “These people are unique,” he said to himself.
“No, thanks. I am
close enough now to walk.”
“O.k. Then I will take you to your
destination free of charge. No money.”
Scott looked puzzled and felt that he was
being set up for a scam. The rickshaw driver looked very honest and spoke very
softly and did not have the same spirit of aggression as the other rickshaw
driver back at
Maybe he was indeed too tired and maybe he
had judged them wrongly. Maybe he had become too defensive and sent out waves
of mistrust. A lone traveler is often dependent on the kind gestures of
strangers and here a man, a total stranger, was offering him a free ride.
“Don’t worry,” said the driver, “I will not
sell you any rugs. I just want to welcome you to my country.”
Scott now laughed. That was exactly what
he thought the may was going to do – sell him rugs.”
“O.k,” said
Scott getting into the rickshaw, “Take me to the
“Oh, that’s very near to the Hanuman
Guesthouse. Why don’t you go there instead? It is very clean and very cheap and
besides, my uncle owns the place.”