On my first day in Jaipur, I took a walk hoping to find, what else, a museum. The directions I was given by the fellows at front desk of the Guest House were totally wrong (I realized quickly not to count on them for much). Instead, along the way, I encountered two very different, delightful sculptures. After ninety minutes I turned around and retraced my steps.

All along the way, the every ubiquitous auto-rickshaws or tuktuks drew alongside me to offer a write. I resisted until on the way back when I realized a ride would be good. Before entering, I asked the next driver the price to get to the guest house (an excellent piece of advice to be followed). I immediately countered his first offer with half the price. “Okey, okey,” he responded. I got home safe and sound.*

*My University host and students were amazed first that I took a tuktuk by myself with no assistance. They were more surprised that I bargained and halved the initial price.

Over the next four weeks, I observed and took a vast variety of transport in and out of Jaipur. What I’ve called the “archeology”–mobile is driven by another University colleague. It’s an older, somewhat beat up car used for going to the field. It reminded me of my beat-up Mazda that I used to drive “high center” through Western Oklahoma.*

*This is Oklahoma-ese for driving on a rural road or path with grass and who knows what else up the center of the track. Use your imagination.

The tuktuks swarm the roads like yellow-topped hornets, carrying any number of passengers and/or cargo, along with countless motorcycles and more. Seeing loads of school children piled in these vehicles returning home in the afternoon after a day at school brought a smile to my fact.

One day, we zipped by, if you can believe it, too quickly to snap a photo of a tuktuk with a goat sequestered in the back seat. Somewhere cabs and ubers roam the streets. I think I resorted to this form of transport only once.

Overcrowded buses crisscross the city in patterns unknown to me. They also travel intercity. No, I did not venture onto a bus (another excellent piece of advice).

Then the train. On my first weekend in India one University colleague took me to Jodphur for the weekend. We took an early morning train, sleeper car. He caught 100 winks, while I occupied myself looking at the countryside.

Food hawkers troll the narrow aisles periodically. There’s the chai walla, someone with cold drinks.

Cold and hot snacks like cutlets and sandwiches were also offered those who did not bring their own provisions. They were almost as interesting as the rapidly passing landscape.

It was in Jodphur that I was introduced to the “moto.” On the second day, my hosts/guides took me to our second destination on the back of a motorcycle. Along the way, we stopped to enjoy some (safe) street food.

I often wondered how much they could get on a motorbike!

The best advice, or words of wisdom came from Mr. Singh, my driver for a tour of Delhi on my final day in India:

Good brake – Good Horn – Good luck!