Delhi's Most Dangerous Game

Case in Point 1

Back in the ancient history of  this blog (2008!), I wrote about the challenges of navigating the traffic of Cairo, describing it as “controlled chaos”.  It wasn’t easy, but I figured it out, and survived unscathed. New Delhi offers a whole other set of problems. You see, in Cairo, traffic was almost exclusively cars that more or less progress by creating and following the maximum number of lanes the road will allow.

Auto-rickshaw (an auto for short), for those not familiar

But in New Delhi, it’s a pretty random mix of cars, motorcycles, the occasional bicycle rickshaws or animal-drawn vehicle, and auto-rickshaws (see picture), all of which have slightly different widths. Moreover, every car has a slightly different trajectory and driving style. Consequently the “lanes” are neither uniform nor predictable.  

For example, the same non-major street could accommodate any of the following combinations in one direction, more if someone's trying to make a risky pass: 

• 1 truck or bus
• 2 auto-rickshaws
• 1 car and 2 motorcycles
• 1 car and 2 motorbikes
• 1 auto-rickshaw and 1 bicycle rickshaw

….you get the idea.   Main roads are the same, but faster, wider, and almost never include bicycle rickshaws.

Case in Point 2

Like Cairo, drivers seem to make it work. I’ve seen no accidents, and all the vehicles I’ve been in have only almost hit things…such as other cars, the street dogs here that seem to all have a death wish, and one time this weekend in Agra, a herd of domestic water buffaloes.  Overall, it seems to be kind of well-functioning chaos, if well-functioning is defined as having a common set of rules, making the most of limited road space, and getting from A to B. 

But a pedestrian, where sidewalks are few and far between outside tourist-laden areas, you have to be on your guard at all times.  Every minute.    The space you’re currently walking in is also a space where a motorcycle is happy to zoom by, or might make the difference between fitting one auto and two.  If they need the space, they’ll let you know that they’re coming with a honk or several, and you’d better make way…or else (what, I fortunately haven’t had to find out yet). Honking is not exclusively an expression of anger, warning, or frustration, but an important way of communication that facilitates sharing the roads, especially when mirrors aren't really used.

As an American, all the honking in my general direction unnervingly grates on me, but I’ve tried to reprogram my thinking to hear the horns as something like, “Dear Laura: just so you know, I’m coming up behind you, just trying to get from point A or point B as quickly as possible.  I don't want to hit you, so I advise you to pay attention, get off the road if you can and remember that I pack a bigger punch than you do”  It's not really working, but for the sake of sanity, I'm still trying

If walking in Cairo was like playing a game of Frogger, I would call Delhi traffic Tetris where the pieces you don’t control move both up and down and side to side.  A game I would not choose to play with my life and limbs, if it wasn’t an occupational hazard of spending my summer here. 

Variations on a Theme: The Case of Agra