Skip Two, Swerve One, Hop Three

I think I'm starting to catch on to this walking stuff. What, and you've not quite been there a month yet? you say. Hey, sarcasm not allowed until you've walked a block in my sandals on the streets of Anna Nagar, Chennai.

The trick is to believe that the bikes, motorcycles, ox carts, auto rickshaws, share autos, cars, SUVs, buses, and lorries are not actually trying to run you over. In fact, any of the list--well, I'm actually not convinced about the last two--will swerve slightly to avoid hitting you! Once you believe that, you prove it to the world by continuing to walk, rather than stopping every time one comes in your vicinity. They expect you to keep going, anticipate your movement, and actually change their path enough to let the two of you continue to share the road. Of course, you change your path slightly also, to make it easier for them.

I mean, if they were aiming for you, they wouldn't honk to let you know they're there, would they? And they certainly do honk. Who needs to be alert, when their horns will do the work for you? But I haven't found the purpose yet of the practice of honking, loudly, exactly as they go by. If you weren't already out of the way, you'd be under their vehicle. I think that practice may be just plain meanness, but I'll have to let you know.

Anyway, apparently it was getting too easy, so today--it being monsoon season anyway--we added puddles! Big ones. This morning it was a bit like working out a puzzle: move to the right, slow down to let a bike go by, now up on the sidewalk for three steps, back down, around another walker, and a slight leap over the next puddle. This evening, in the dark, it was a losing cause. Fortunately, I had my older sandals on--I felt funny bringing more pairs of shoes than outfits to India, but it was a good decision, considering the dog-ruined pair--so now I just hope they will dry out by morning. Tomorrow could be another car-swerving, puddle-jumping day and I need to be ready.