Places

The streets of Jaipur, especially near the Walled City, are fascinating. Cars, camels, elephants, rickshaws, and bicycles are all going their merry way down the same roads. It’s a physical manifestation of a country trying to modernize while remaining deeply connected to traditions. It’s bizarre, but it somehow makes sense.

Driving down those streets (or crossing them) is an experience. Signs are more guidelines than actual rules. Stoplights are nonexistent. Sidewalks are dirt and sand heaps. Honking your horn every four or five seconds to let the world know where you are isn’t just common, it’s mandatory. Our guidebook gives the three rules of survival for the road.

1. The one who is the biggest has the right of way. The big trucks, overloaded, pay no need to you coming into your lane, nor should you expect them to.
2. The one who has the least to lose has the right of way. That is the reason why a Mercedes or an Opel Astra gives way to a battered old Ambassador, and a Rickshaw gives way to no one. Pedestrian gives way to all.
3. The cow always has the right of way.

The cow rule is especially clutch. Bovines abound in Jaipur. Everywhere you look you see one (or ten) being worthless, soaking up some sun, eating whatever looks tasty nearby, leisurely swishing at the flies that have congregated around. They’re definitely living the good life. So underserved. If I listed every animal based on how deserving I feel they are they of worship, the cow would probably be sandwiched between the panda bear and the chicken. Much cooler are the hyperactive little monkeys that chill in the trees. I swear I spotted one of them reading a newspaper the other day. And another one, clearly distraught over the unfair human bias in the media, tearing that same newspaper up.