Me Car Es Su Car

I met Bryan this morning at our briefing session.

He lives in Philadelphia and flew into Bangalore yesterday.

Bryan is your stock standard training consultant. He was attired appropriately in a pale blue checked shirt with buttoned down collar, camel chinos with a brown belt and black shoes.

For the afternoon session we needed to go to our other offices across town, an hour's drive in Bangalore traffic. My presentation was from 2 to 4 so we left at 12.30, just in case.

I got a lift with Bryan. His travel agent was organised and had arranged a car and a driver for him. This is in stark contrast to my travel agent who relies on luck (and me) to get my dates right.

As we were circling the building in 34 degree heat, trying to work out where the pick-up place would be, I asked if he had called his driver in advance:

"No. He said he'd be here at 12.30. This morning I booked him for 8.30 and the hotel guy told me he arrived at 6.30."

-- "I hate that. I always feel so guilty too ... but then I remind myself that they are quite time rich and probably just having a nap."

"Yeah but the drive here was frightening! Talk about waking me up! All the horns and the swerving and stuff everywhere. It was quite a culture shock."

-- "Have you been to India before?"

"Umm. Nope. Never been to Asia. Only really been to London before."

-- "Well the driving can be a bit confronting so it's best not to look."

"Tell me about it. And the cows and everything ..."

I suggested he would get used to it and tried not to sound like the jaded traveller ... avoiding any beens and dones theres and thats.

Our American organization has an automated system which alerts you of potential dangers in certain "risky" destinations, and India is on this list. Bryan told me how after booking this trip, he had started getting automated travel warnings from some database, warning about every problem that was cropping up in India. We both agreed that this was silly; like sending New Yorkers a warning about a new serial killer in LA.

We couldn't find our car. Bryan eventually rang his driver, who said he was 10 minutes away. He arrived 40 minutes later after a few calls (consisting of "5 minutes", then "2 minutes", then "just here now").

We got into the car. About 5 minutes into the trip, as we were inching along in traffic, 2 men approached the car and started yelling at our driver, trying to open his door. Our driver tried to lock his door and wind up his window but it was too late. They were onto him.

A scuffle broke out. There was a lot of yelling and shoving and he was eventually dragged out of the car before losing a tug-of-war for his keys.

Meanwhile, inside the car, I was sitting there a little bemused. "This is interesting Bryan", I said, "Wonder what's going on here." I wasn't trying to stay calm - I was calm. I could have been on a porch in Kansas, on my rocking chair smoking a pipe, as aliens turned up to ask directions.

I continued finishing my presentation, glancing up occasionally to see how the fight had progressed.

Eventually a new man got into the car, still yelling back at our driver, and started it up again.

I leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder as we took off:

"Are you taking us to the training facility now?" I asked. I was no longer at the porch, I was more like a curious infant, lost in the supermarket.

-- "No. No."

"Oh. OK. Do we get out now?"

-- "Yes. Out. Yes." and he pulled over abruptly.

"Bryan I think this is our cue to leave."

So evicted we were. Onto a noisy, busy, dusty road standing next to a few cows.

I called our coordinator to let her know that my session may start a little late ... that we'd been car jacked, and abandoned and were now seeking alternative transport.

She reminded me that they were working to a tight schedule and I apologised, promising to do my best. I imagined her sternly looking at her watch and thought it odd that this was the only time - ever - that I had ever been put under time pressure in India.

By the time I got off the phone our original driver had found us again and offered to help us find another car. "Just 10 minutes," he promised. ("Mate you're not exactly bouncing off a great track record," I thought to myself.)

I looked across to Bryan and suggested to try and hail a cab. He looked distracted, and I figured he must be mentally drafting up a new travel alert.

Our driver started apologetically explaining the scuffle and I felt so sorry for him ... it was something about "the financial".

I figured that we must have been involved in some type of vehicle repossession ... but then again our car jackers didn't look like police ... or bank clerks ... and badges were not flashed ... but then again why weren't the potatoes kidnapped for ransom?

I'm not sure we'll ever really know.

Bryan was looking a bit pale. He said "Umm ... do you think we should just maybe walk back to the office?"

I didn't want that. "No. That will take too long and it's really hot. Let's see what we can do here ... by the way Bryan don't you think it's lucky I got a lift with you? This would have probably freaked you out if you were by yourself!"

-- "I'm ... umm ... still plenty freaked out I think."

After about 5 minutes I managed to wave down a cab and we abandoned our driver and our cows. Our new driver perilously swerved and accelerated and beeped his way to the office, all the while looking disappointed at me when I couldn't answer his questions about cricket.

When we arrived at the office I pulled out my wallet with a "No no. Please. You got the last one Bryan. Let me."