Let’s face it, we were in *way* over our heads just considering this trip. In particular, none of us have had any experience with motorcycle maintenance or even changing spark plugs in our own cars… So when the organizers told us that we definitely, positively would break down numerous times during the trip we might’ve prepared ourselves a little better on the mechanics of our rickshaws to get us through the rough spots.
That said, India and its people came through time and time again to help us along. In general, it really seemed like folks were on our side and wanted to see us succeed. This became strikingly clear a few days ago when Seema and I stalled out in the middle of a mad-crazy intersection in the middle of Agra…
We were at the back of the caravan about to enter a traffic circle when it happened. The engine just stalled out, no explanation, just stalled. Granted, this happened pretty often and we were usually able to get it started again with one crank of the starter.
The rickshaw starter... kinda like starting a lawn mower.
This time, there seemed to be something *really* wrong. Ignoring the blaring horns, passing cars, goats, and trucks Seema and I tried the how-to-start-your-tuktuk checklist that we picked up along the way:
- Is it in Neutral?
- Is the key in the ignition and switched to on?
- Have you tried the choke?
- Do you have petrol?
- Not sure, have you tried switching to the reserve tank?
After going through each of these steps we cranked on the starter a few times to no avail. Seema and I looked at each other and realized we didn’t know what else to do. We were effed… At that moment, we both looked to the side of the road and noticed a line of eight parked rickshaws and their drivers staring at us. They had been watching us the whole time and started to motion us over the side of the road when they saw defeat on our faces.
The next 60 seconds felt like we pulled into a Nascar Pit Stop.
The eight drivers ran through two lanes of traffic to our rickshaw and pushed us to the left shoulder to do some diagnostics. They went through the same steps we went through to try to start it up, with the same results. no workie. All the guys were chatting with each other, presumably throwing out theories of what to try next. It felt like we were a part of some weird hive mind things moved so fast. They quickly opened up the hood of our tuk tuk (located at the back of the vehicle).
Within seconds, they identified that the carburetor assembly had become disconnected from the intake valve and asked for a screwdriver.
Seconds after I handed over the screwdriver they reconnected everything, closed the hood, started the engine and gave us the thumbs up to go. We were on our way… They cheered us on and helped stop traffic so we could enter the traffic circle catch up with our caravan.
I’m not sure if this would’ve happened in the US. I’d like to think that those drivers helped us because they believed that’s how people should treat each other — giving a hand to folks when they are at their most desperate. It’s certainly one minute in India that I will never forget.
