escape from madhapur

My mother has apparently grounded me for getting mehndi on my hands. She abhors tattooing, and I knew that she would be unwilling to accept my henna'd fingers. Having never been grounded before, I was unsure what I should do about my newly-fettered status. So, I did what any rebellious teenager would do (and clearly I am a rebellious teenager to get henna in the first place)--I escaped from the apartment and went shopping.

This was actually quite the escape. I woke up around ten-thirty and came downstairs for breakfast, and discovered that no one was here but Chris. I ate some French toast and was contemplating a very relaxed afternoon, but Chris suggested going to Music World to pick up a DVD of a Bollywood ripoff of 'E.T.' Apparently, in this version ET is a poorly-designed puppet that dances during all of the music sequences. Thinking that this sounded like a reasonable way to spend my morning, I readily agreed. We went downstairs and found that Ismail was not happy about the expats' profligate use of the cars; car organization has become a big headache for him, because there aren't enough cars for each of us to take one, and so if we don't tell him in advance so that he can organize more cars, someone inevitably gets stranded. This means that for much of the weekend, I feel like a prisoner in the apartment complex (which has definite benefits, since there is a pool and air conditioning and the internet and my rapidly-growing collection of Georgette Heyer books). Ismail told me all about this while Chris ran upstairs to get his wallet, and because several other people had already taken cars, we were going to have to wait for five or ten minutes for someone to show up and take us to Music World. When Chris came back, we decided that we didn't want to wait--and that we would take the tantalizingly absurd option of the autorickshaw.

We lied to Ismail and told him that we were going back upstairs to watch TV, since he has forbidden all of us to take autorickshaws. Apparently at night they are somewhat dangerous, since the drivers like to drink whiskey, but since it was only noon we felt fairly safe. So we cut through the apartment complex and made it to the main road, where Chris flagged down the first rickshaw.

Here's where the fun began in earnest. Apparently, there are two types of autorickshaws--the type that function like a taxi and take you directly to where you want to go, and the type that just drives up and down the main road of a particular neighborhood, acting like a miniature bus. We happened to get the latter version. When the rickshaw pulled over, it already had four passengers, plus the driver; two of the guys in the back got out to make room for us, and then crowded in with the driver in the front seat. Seven people packed into a rickshaw made for an entertaining ride. We got to the edge of Madhapur (our neighborhood), gave the driver 14 rupees (about thirty cents), and switched rickshaws. The second one operated like a taxi, so we were the only passengers. We ended up going to Hyderabad Central, rather than Music World, and so I picked up a pair of sneakers since mine are falling apart. We took another taxi-style autorickshaw back to the apartments (total for the ride home: Rs62, or $1.40), and I skirted around the parking lot so that Ismail would not see me with my tousled hair and my Hyderabad Central bag.

The upshot of this story is that I would definitely ride in an autorickshaw again. It feels so much more real, since you can see your surroundings without the interference of tinted glass, and you can feel the wind rather than the frigid blast of the air conditioner. It is not my preferred mode of transportation, but it's nice to know that the possibility of escape exists, even if I do not use it often.

Despite my groundedness, I'm going to someone's house for dinner tonight, which should be fun. And so far, I'm happy to report that the food last night has not made me sick, which is fantastic. Now, though, I should accomplish something with my day!