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Testimonies: How to cross the street in India and live to tell about it

by Pam Schiffbauer

Created on: April 18, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

One of my dreams has always been to travel to India. I read every book I could find on India and always went to movies which were set in India. Finally, I made it there. As an American, I looked forward to learning about this beautiful country. I was fascinated by the different culture I found there. The author Forrester has said that India is a million countries. This is certainly true. There is the India of the white marble Taj Mahal resting in a sunset pink fog. There is the grinding poverty which frantically pushes each rickshaw driver to try to make enough to feed his children each day. There are rural fields just like Nebraska except within these fields you find a thirty foot Hindu statue. There are the Armani clad businessmen in their cars tapping their horns politely but incessantly. There are the "makeshift" shacks and tents along the sidewalks which are permanent homes for families as they cook, shave, sleep and bathe. There is the orphanage of Mother Teresa where hands lovingly care for the orphans, AIDS victims, lepers, and handicapped. There is the India of the Sacred Cow where you can be in a shop and feel yourself being gently nudged and, turning around, find yourself looking up into the face of a big white animal because the Sacred Cows are allowed to roam where they wish.

I was prepared for the grinding poverty, the people living and cooking on the sidewalks and the tragic pleas for money. I wasn't prepared for the lack of stop signs, stop lights, or speed limits!

The first time I tried to cross the street, cars whizzed right by me. Some honked; others just sped by. But no car slowed down enough to allow me to cross. Each time I tried, I was forced to turn and hop back up on the curb. I began to think it would be impossible to cross the street.

I wondered if I would have to rent a rickshaw to drive me across the street.

Finally, I came up with an idea. I looked for a family with children, stood by them, and waited for them to cross. The second they stepped off the curb, I looked straight ahead and stayed in their safe group.

It worked like a charm!

Learn more about this author, Pam Schiffbauer.
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