Different Normals

My first white-knuckled auto rickshaw ride through Delhi taught me that the driver and I have very different normals when it comes to the road. I’m used to speed limits, orderly lanes, signaled turns, and pedestrians at crosswalks. But this isn’t Kansas anymore.

None of the Delhi drivers seemed to care about the concept of "lanes" (indeed, some people blatantly drove on the wrong side of the road). There was a cacophony of perpetual honking, beeping, and blasting that was less about road-etiquette and more about get-the-hell-out-of-the-way. And besides the motorcycles that wove fearlessly through the dense traffic, there were also an assortment of cows, dogs, children, and street vendors crossing the already hectic streets. Sarah tells me the ride lasted all of about fifteen minutes, but from my wide-eyed point of view, it felt like an hour of near collisions and close shaves.

Although that auto rickshaw was nerve-racking for me, I think it was a great introduction to India and a good reminder of what traveling is all about. For me, traveling is about getting shaken up. It’s about trying something really different and getting a sense of other people’s versions of normal. If I wanted my own sense of comfort and normalcy, I could have just stayed at home. I like the challenge of navigating a new environment; it’s a puzzle, and because my brain is constantly trying to figure things out, I feel more alert and alive to the present moment.

“That's Me in a Different Situation”

What I've found before (and what I’m finding here in Delhi) is that once I get past the surface differences, people have so much in common. We enjoy good food, we laugh at funny jokes, and we want what’s best for our loved ones. I heard a speech a few weeks ago by Brandon Stanton, the guy who created the website Humans of New York. In the speech, Stanton stated simply and profoundly that the website’s stories show readers, "That’s me in a different situation." This sentiment has been on my mind quite often these first few days in India. It’s a reminder that much of what makes us different is based on origin and circumstance. When I encounter someone doing something I find strange, I remind myself that they have grown up with different normals. Their situation has been different, and so they have different learned responses than I do.

So our rickshaw driver was not a crazed maniac. He was a natural extension of the traffic in which he drives. That traffic operates on different rules, which include more assertive merging, honking instead of blinkers, braver pedestrians, and motorcyclists who occasionally drive upstream. The traffic that made me fear for my life is business as usual – quite literally – for him. And if I want to motorcycle across India, I'm going to need to adjust to his version of normal.