As we exit from the passport control, our driver was waiting for us. A young, gentle and intelligent man. I wanted to buy a coffee, an early morning coffee for me and for Shabby, we have to wake up to contemplate the Indian paysages! I asked to our driver:
“Do you want a coffee, Sahuab?”
“No, Ma’am, thank you”
“No, thank you ma’am!”
I shouldn’t insist. In the coming days I learnt that for an Indian I would be a foreigner,ie, a person from a very different cast. But then, after two days in this country, I knew that the problem was not a caste system problem. In fact, Indians don’t like too much coffee, but all of them like to drink tea with milk (or milk with tea). This was so simple!
The coffee was good but we slept nevertheless. Maybe because the villages on the road didn’t mean to me anything. It was hot (end of april,beginning of monsoon season), and the poverty of people was one of the thing which I already witnessed in other parts of the world. But the experience of being on Indian roads is something which I didn’t experience anywhere, even in Istanbul!
“Blow Horn” is written at the back of all trucks. There are few cars like us besides, it’s like the roads are done for the trucks. And in this country, the roads mean the free universe of the trucks drivers!
And these drivers are tooting the horns uninterruptedly without any reason.
In the middle of the way, we had a brief pause. Silence! Just for five minutes, until we saw the children rushing towards us and shouting:
“Snake play, snake play!”
“Yes, snake play, what is it?”
One of the children takes out from a small basket a long and thin baby snake. Other starts to play flute. And the snake starts to move. Not enough. The boy pushes the head of the reptile so that we, the spectators can enjoy the show.
Shabby and I, we are astonished. This unexpected spectacle, on the middle of one of the highways going from Delhi to Agra was giving us signs that our journey in India would be much more fantastic than we had ever thought to be!