Home, Ganesh
Ganesh is the name of the auto rickshaw driver that my friend Jim uses here in Chennai. Jim has been coming to Chennai for about 10 years now, and he met Ganesh on his first trip here. Ganesh was driving a rented rickshaw and making pennies a day after he paid the rent and gas, and drove the half hour into the city and back home each day. Jim recognized an honest and hard-working man in Ganesh, so helped Ganesh to buy his own rickshaw. Now, when Jim comes, he pays Ganesh by the day to pick him up, drop him off and sometimes wait for him in between. When Ganesh isn't at Jim's beck and call, he's free to try to drum up other riders or my roommates and I will hire him for errand expeditions.
Only if you've taken a ride from an ordinary rickshaw driver could you fully appreciate the wonderfulness that is Ganesh (in Hindu mythology, Ganesh, the elephant headed God, is the remover of obstacles). Not only has Ganesh never had an accident in 20 years (an incredible statistic in a city where just yesterday we witnessed two minor collisions), he also slows down for the considerable bumps in the city thus preserving the spinal discs as well as the teeth of his passengers. Ganesh knows the best places to eat and shop and will even haggle a deal for you in Tamil. Not only that, the other day he refused to take a bonus from a store when they offered (in Tamil) to charge my friend an extra 50% on her bill to put in Ganesh's pocket. The amount offered would be what Ganesh would make on a good busy day of work. He told us later what had transpired and my friend immediately opened her wallet and gave him the money herself, in gratitude for his honesty.
Yesterday, Ganesh spent almost 3 hours with me at lunchtime. We drove clear across the city to a store I wanted to see (founded in Gandhi's honour and selling, among other treasures, the homespun cotton that he was famous for: kadhi). He took me to two other stores as well that I asked him about. Then he brought me home, carried my parcels upstairs, shyly asked me for a glass of water, waited while I did a few things, then took me back to the yoga centre for my evening shift. I paid him 500 rupees, the amount that my friend had given him the day before, which he would consider a good day's pay (it's about $12.40 Canadian). He started to dig around for change. The other thing about Ganesh is that he refuses to tell you a price for the ride. It's always "whatever you want, ma'am, ok, whatever you want, fine." I told him I didn't want change, that I appreciated all his help. Other days he's taken me to the train station and luggage shopping, which are stories unto themselves, and he always watches out for me, while keeping an eye on the parcels that I leave in the back of his rickshaw while I shop. Many obstacles he's removed for me.
He asked me if I wanted him to pick me up at the end of my shift. I said, "no thanks...I'm not done until 8pm and I'll walk home...no problem." Later, at 8 when I was done, I was tired after a long frustrating day where all but two of my appointments had been cancelled, leaving me sitting for a total of 4 hours...waiting fruitlessly for students and teachers who never appeared. I figured I'd flag down a rickshaw and take a 20 rupee ride home. When I walked out of the centre, there was Ganesh, waiting for me with a big smile. "I wait for my Canada friend! Where you want to go?" I beamed back at him, "Home, Ganesh."
Only if you've taken a ride from an ordinary rickshaw driver could you fully appreciate the wonderfulness that is Ganesh (in Hindu mythology, Ganesh, the elephant headed God, is the remover of obstacles). Not only has Ganesh never had an accident in 20 years (an incredible statistic in a city where just yesterday we witnessed two minor collisions), he also slows down for the considerable bumps in the city thus preserving the spinal discs as well as the teeth of his passengers. Ganesh knows the best places to eat and shop and will even haggle a deal for you in Tamil. Not only that, the other day he refused to take a bonus from a store when they offered (in Tamil) to charge my friend an extra 50% on her bill to put in Ganesh's pocket. The amount offered would be what Ganesh would make on a good busy day of work. He told us later what had transpired and my friend immediately opened her wallet and gave him the money herself, in gratitude for his honesty.
Yesterday, Ganesh spent almost 3 hours with me at lunchtime. We drove clear across the city to a store I wanted to see (founded in Gandhi's honour and selling, among other treasures, the homespun cotton that he was famous for: kadhi). He took me to two other stores as well that I asked him about. Then he brought me home, carried my parcels upstairs, shyly asked me for a glass of water, waited while I did a few things, then took me back to the yoga centre for my evening shift. I paid him 500 rupees, the amount that my friend had given him the day before, which he would consider a good day's pay (it's about $12.40 Canadian). He started to dig around for change. The other thing about Ganesh is that he refuses to tell you a price for the ride. It's always "whatever you want, ma'am, ok, whatever you want, fine." I told him I didn't want change, that I appreciated all his help. Other days he's taken me to the train station and luggage shopping, which are stories unto themselves, and he always watches out for me, while keeping an eye on the parcels that I leave in the back of his rickshaw while I shop. Many obstacles he's removed for me.
He asked me if I wanted him to pick me up at the end of my shift. I said, "no thanks...I'm not done until 8pm and I'll walk home...no problem." Later, at 8 when I was done, I was tired after a long frustrating day where all but two of my appointments had been cancelled, leaving me sitting for a total of 4 hours...waiting fruitlessly for students and teachers who never appeared. I figured I'd flag down a rickshaw and take a 20 rupee ride home. When I walked out of the centre, there was Ganesh, waiting for me with a big smile. "I wait for my Canada friend! Where you want to go?" I beamed back at him, "Home, Ganesh."