Sometimes when someone is saying go the other way, you should just listen, but that would mean no lesson, right?
I got pulled over by the Mysore traffic cops recently and refused to pay a fine for going the wrong way down a one way street.
“Where’s the sign?” I ask. The traffic cop holds up a camera and takes a photo of my number-plate, and then my face. But I’m on a beat-up rental scooter and I’m leaving town in 3 days and doubt Indian burecracy is going to get all efficient and find me in 72 hours. I smile at the camera and give a peace sign. He’s not quite sure what I’m doing. He radios his mate 200m down the road, something about we’ve got trouble here.
I point to myself and say “Tourist! I didn’t know about one way, sorry! Where is the sign?”
I got pulled over by the Mysore traffic cops recently and refused to pay a fine for going the wrong way down a one way street.
“Where’s the sign?” I ask. The traffic cop holds up a camera and takes a photo of my number-plate, and then my face. But I’m on a beat-up rental scooter and I’m leaving town in 3 days and doubt Indian burecracy is going to get all efficient and find me in 72 hours. I smile at the camera and give a peace sign. He’s not quite sure what I’m doing. He radios his mate 200m down the road, something about we’ve got trouble here.
I point to myself and say “Tourist! I didn’t know about one way, sorry! Where is the sign?”
“No!” he says crossly. “One way road! 300 rupee fine.” And signals me to turn around.
But at this stage of my trip I am having trouble keeping food in my body, I have heaps of energy, I am a little bored, I am over American yoga teachers telling whole coffee shops how their students "like, project their stuff all over me" and having to sit with their company over lunch I can't really stomach. I just want to go back to my unserviced non-apartment and watch Bridesmaids and eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
 |
| stop projecting on me, ok |
"No way!" I cry indignant (it's $6, just quit and pay, Sue Lee) I don’t plan on taking on the Indian constabulary but I've got nothing else on this afternoon. I start to make a fuss. I’ve really got to
change my act, it’s getting predictable.
“I’m going this way,” I tell him bossily, because sometimes
it works. But he stands in front of my wheel and says “No, no,”
shaking his head, smiling as he destroys my turning circle. He’s pretty good at
this. I beep at him feebly, but I don’t want to hurt the guy.
“I’m
not paying your stupid fine.” I say like a 4 year old. Someone drives past me going the wrong way
too, and I say “Look! People do it all the time!” But fairness is not a thing in India. I fight
for fair, but here it’s impotent rage. I know I’m going down. And then we’re chuckling at one another because I’m virtually
running him over and neither of us can quite believe it. It is petty and
pedantic. And he’s calling back up. I’ve met my match.
So as I concede I
sit on my scootie in the middle of the one way road and the cop is yelling at
me to move on, get out of the way of all
the people going the correct way. But all my yoga has made me pretty good at 'being aware of external distractions, but not attaching to them' (thanks yoga) so I ignore him whoops I mean detach, and work out my strategy for
the next cop on, standing in the middle of the road eying me off at 500 paces. It’s like
a western shoot out. I’m making myself the best 300 rupee problem of the day in
the middle of his one-way street. I’m screwed
and have been from day 1, so now I'm just gonna get my $6 worth. This is
how ready I am to leave India, and bored I am starting to feel in Mysore. I’m idling with time
and the law. Why can't I just stop and smell the roses?
"Ok, let’s go deal with this guy," I say under my breath and
zoom towards an official cop with a hat and a white uniform. I brake with as much attitude as I can in birkenstocks and a
dented rental with a delayed horn (don't even go there) and whip off my locally-made (overpriced) helmet and plant him with a big immature Kimmy (look at me) stare.
His juniors in khaki shirts surround us instantly chattering away and sneering curiously in Kannada and I know it is rude, so we are all being assholes in our own international way. My outrage is an act, I have to pay but I have to save face doing it. He says something about 'tourist, do you know how to ride a bike?' I give him my best ‘what kind of cop are you?’ huffy pants glare. This is known as the 'Lee Look' that my sister and I have perfected.
"Yeah, of course I drive, I have a driver's licence, I've ridden motorbikes. This is not a driving issue, this is a signage issue.” I can't believe Im inviting an argument into Council by-laws.
His juniors in khaki shirts surround us instantly chattering away and sneering curiously in Kannada and I know it is rude, so we are all being assholes in our own international way. My outrage is an act, I have to pay but I have to save face doing it. He says something about 'tourist, do you know how to ride a bike?' I give him my best ‘what kind of cop are you?’ huffy pants glare. This is known as the 'Lee Look' that my sister and I have perfected.
"Yeah, of course I drive, I have a driver's licence, I've ridden motorbikes. This is not a driving issue, this is a signage issue.” I can't believe Im inviting an argument into Council by-laws.
“Where do you drive in your country?” he asks.
“It’s
Austra-ya. We drive on the street” I say loaded with sarcasm that is totally missed. Or maybe this cop is just awesome at detachment.
“Look, I know Kalidasa Road is one way, but I didn’t know this street was one way. I’m sorry. My mistake.” I hand over my money.
“Look, I know Kalidasa Road is one way, but I didn’t know this street was one way. I’m sorry. My mistake.” I hand over my money.
“The signs are
there,” he waves vaguely down the road and I look but see no signs. The men
chatter noisily to the head cop all about me, everyone has an opinion.
“Ah, revenue collecting. Been a good day guys? Make lots of money?” I smile and ask sweetly, waggling my head.
Big cop asks “What are you doing in Mysore?” They are so nosey here. I frown at him. Fine me or don't but I'm not giving him my story.
“Ah, revenue collecting. Been a good day guys? Make lots of money?” I smile and ask sweetly, waggling my head.
Big cop asks “What are you doing in Mysore?” They are so nosey here. I frown at him. Fine me or don't but I'm not giving him my story.
“Holiday. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing here. Change please.” He doesn’t need my details, it would mean work. He is fingering the 500 rupee note and sees an opportunity to increase the
fine, “Helmet. Was she wearing a helmet?” he asks no-one in particular.
Of
course I was wearing it! Didn’t he see my elaborate head shake as I pulled it
off? Geez. Men! This helmet hair is not intentional. So now I'm actually offended. He’s getting the full show, eyeball rolling, tutting, my best bad behaviour and it's having the opposite effect that it has in Australia. He asks something about Kanada checking if I can speak it, something about liking me and he’s smiling as he hands me my
change and I put it in my back pocket. I'm not sure if he just asked me out but I'm not sticking around for romance in a one way street. We all know where that ends.
I smile and wave and call “Bartini sigona!” as I drive off (slang for ‘see ya later’), it's all I can do to let them know I know some Kannada, and am not offended by the insults I have just copped and sorry I nearly ran over your colleague. Sometimes being rude here commands respect it's how you get stuff done. Just as I'm going about my life thinking it's all hunky dory, then someone shows me that no, I need to go the other way now, my instinct is to resist. No matter how badly behaved I am about it, it's going to happen anyway, the hard way or the easy way, doesn't matter if it's about 4 weeks too late, or my hair is a fright, sometimes I just have to cop it.
I smile and wave and call “Bartini sigona!” as I drive off (slang for ‘see ya later’), it's all I can do to let them know I know some Kannada, and am not offended by the insults I have just copped and sorry I nearly ran over your colleague. Sometimes being rude here commands respect it's how you get stuff done. Just as I'm going about my life thinking it's all hunky dory, then someone shows me that no, I need to go the other way now, my instinct is to resist. No matter how badly behaved I am about it, it's going to happen anyway, the hard way or the easy way, doesn't matter if it's about 4 weeks too late, or my hair is a fright, sometimes I just have to cop it.
