So my Bhaglapur
people suggested I take the bike rickshaw to the train station. The motorized
ones here in this region are not used for onsies. They pack em! Just like a car
of clowns….but ….no one is a clown. Ok...for those of you that want or desire
political correctness…I know I shouldn’t assume. ….for the love of god…Some
could be clowns. Anyway….
So I get
one…and he sees my luggage and sees me load it. But I think everyone that sees
me WAY under calculates the weight of my backpack. Smallish girl…backpack…how
much could it possibly weigh? Have you met Jennifer the small pack horse? I
have loved to see each man I have worked with at the point in the journey where
for some reason they picked it up to hand it to me and they look on their faces
as they realized they’d need both arms to get it to me. They all cannot believe
I have been hauling that.
So…rickshaw driver did the same. And this is where
all my real luggage weight is. Poor guy…He starts off like we will whiz
along…he immediately has to start stand biking. I felt so bad. People walking
were passing us. But….wtf could I do now? I knew he didn’t speak English. And I
had to get to the train station. I paid him four times the price asked. He still looked really bummed. I
think he needed a nap.
Photo: JLewis |
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