I Am Here!

A few weeks ago, my taxi service changed drivers on me. JP suddenly failed to arrive one morning in his white Ford Ikon. He was replaced by an unfamiliar gentleman with a thick mustache and dapper white uniform, whose name is spelled "Ram" but which was pronounced with maybe three or four additional syllables when he introduced himself.*

Changing drivers is a slightly stressful occurance, because addresses in India are not necessarily straightforward. Packages are commonly marked with instructions like, "Across from the flyover", or "Next to the bank", because, really, that's the best way to find things. Essentially, those street numbers on my business card are meaningless. Ram spent that first morning performing a version of what I call the cabdriver Google: stopping every other mile to ask for directions.

Over time, though, he got into the swing of things, and Ram now routinely delivers me at work 15 minutes faster than did JP. He tries to chat a bit more, too, even though I have limited Hindi and he has limited English. Overall, he's a very nice guy.

One Saturday, when I didn't need to go to work and Ram had the day off, a few friends and I decided to take a trip to the Delhi zoo. Imagine my surprise, then, when, after waiting in line with chattering families and being warned about stray monkeys, the first person I bumped into after walking through the gate--in a city of 14 million people--was my driver.

His face lit up, and he exclaimed, "Madame!" just at the same time I said, "Ram!" It was such a funny coincidence, and we were both grinning ear-to-ear, but... the language barrier! I struggled to think of something nice in Hindi while he clearly struggled right back for the English. After a moment, I blurted out, "Acha! Acha!", or "Good! Good!" and then, "Sightseeing!"

He head-wobbled vigorously, and, with a big smile on his face, announced, "Yes, Madame! I am here!"

That's just about all the verbal communication we could manage, so we grinned at each other a few more seconds and waved enthusiastic goodbyes. What a world! How fluky to see Ram, in all places, at the Delhi zoo. Sightseeing! Madame! I am here! It's the little moments like this that make a girl feel slightly more at home.

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(Side note: I had an awkward moment a few days ago when JP showed up again in front of my office, chauffeuring--gasp!--another American. What do you do in this situation? Do you introduce your current and former driver? Do they already know each other? What do they say about me after I go inside?)