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JoeLea’s Indian Adventure

December 2022 - January 2023
We’re celebrating Joe’s 60th birthday by driving an auto-rickshaw from Jaisalmer to Kerala, India. We’ve got 14 days to make it from start to finish, with every adventure imaginable en route. Read more
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  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    2
    Day 4

    Mona Lisa Smile

    December 30, 2022 in India ⋅ 🌙 20 °C

    We’re in Jaisalmer and staying in a hotel within the walls of the Fort for the next two days until we begin the Run. The hotel is an old residence built in 1400 and the descendants of the original owners are still living here and are managing the hotel.

    Jaisalmer Fort is situated in the city of Jaisalmer, in the north western Indian state of Rajasthan. It is believed to be one of the very few "living forts" in the world as nearly one fourth of the old city's population still resides within the fort. For the better part of its 860-year history, the fort was the city of Jaisalmer. The first settlements outside the fort walls, to accommodate the growing population of Jaisalmer, are said to have come up in the 17th century.

    This place is incredible. It is amazing that 28,000 people are living in this ancient structure, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The only vehicles allowed in here are motorcycles and their drivers bomb around through tiny narrow streets honking their horns and literally club into you if you don’t get out of the way.

    The lobby of this hotel is a testament to its history. The photos of the ancestors are on the walls. They have a little temple in the lobby where they leave daily offerings.

    The most interesting thing we experienced when we checked in was that the proprietor, the great great great grandson of one of the original owners, was really proud of the fact that he had two Mona Lisa portraits in his lobby. The original one (a copy, obviously) and her Indian cousin.

    The ancient world still lives on here.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 5

    Jiminy Crickets…

    December 31, 2022 in India ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    We spent the last day of 2022 doing Rickshaw Run Training and Orientation, recovering from that, attending the launch party and celebrating New Year’s Eve. I have no words.

    Well, I guess I do.

    It was an overwhelming cacophony of chaos, noise and dust mixed with a plunge into a state of extreme anxiety as it became crystal clear to us what we have committed to do. That was all mixed up with meeting a lot of extremely interesting people from all around the world who are just as crazy as we are. We attended the launch party that evolved into basically a disco for all of the under 30 something’s who are here. Then we ended the year sitting on the top of the roof of our hotel together drinking a much needed bottle of wine and watching the fireworks and feeling grateful for all of the blessings we experienced in 2022.

    Let’s start with the auto rickshaw training part. We met our mighty steed (name tbd), decorated as we had requested with the colors of the Italian flag and Forza Volpe ( Go Strong Volpe) on the front and the Sicilian flag on the back in honor of Joe’s heritage, and a number 60 on the side for his birthday. It’s basically a baking tin with a motor and wheels. Four gears, clutch on left handle, throttle on right. Brake under right foot.

    We couldn’t figure out how to start it for about an hour. Then we realized the gas line wasn’t open. By then all of the other way more mechanically inclined drivers were racing around the dirt training track. There was dust everywhere and people shouting and screaming and all of the social media savvy people using their Go Pros and selfie sticks and whatever else.

    There are 65 rickshaws on this tour. The designs - how people requested them to be painted - were so wonderfully creative. That’s another post entirely.

    When we got into the rickshaw to start driving it we realized that we had a stowaway on board - a huge grasshopper that we named Jiminy Cricket was sitting on the inside of the roof. We decided that Jiminy was God giving us a good luck sign. We hope he sticks around.

    Joe managed to do pretty well with the driving. Then it was my turn. “Shift up” he kept saying, sitting in the back seat. “What the hell are you talking about?,” I responded. “There’s no up, there is only however I am supposed to crank my wrist forward or backwards.” It degraded from there. I made it around the circle once slower than everybody else was going and then had to take a time out and has a serious meltdown.

    Joe tried again and got better at it. He even managed to figure out how to go backwards. I took another crack at it and was basically just stressed out the entire time, throttling too hard on the gas when switching gears, not really coordinated with the brake, worried I was going to hit someone.

    There was a local guy there selling “upgrades”. A fancier and better seat cushion. Yes, please. How about a cell phone charger. Yes, please. Maybe a louder horn. Yes, please. How about a better mirror on the right side. Yes, please. All for about 60 bucks US. That led us to spending three hours standing around waiting for I couldn’t count how many Indian people it took to install nicely colored cushions, do a bunch of electrical work, put a bright red horn on the front, and replace the mirror.

    By then it was time to go back to our hotel and get dressed for New Year’s. We managed to secure some pretty awesome locally made coats hand crafted by women in Rajasthan. To wear to the party. The owner of the shop found out we were Rickshaw Runners and asked us to do an Instagram cameo and handed us about 20 business cards to help promote his work to uplift local women out of poverty and preserve an ancient craft.

    We headed to the launch party, hosted at the local palace, and spent the evening chatting with various other Rickshaw Runners. The music started and all the young people, who had been pounding beers all night, started partying. We took that as a sign to head back to our hotel and we ascended onto the rooftop to watch the local fireworks and enjoy a bottle of Indian made wine (yes that is a thing) and just felt so blessed for everything we experienced in 2022.

    Happy New Year to all of our friends and family reading this. We appreciate you following our adventure!    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 6

    Goldberg’s in the House!

    January 1, 2023 in India ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C

    So in Jaisalmer Fort there’s an Italian restaurant called “Jaisal Italy”. If you say it fast enough it sounds like “Little Italy”. But not really.

    We saw the sign and their promo slogan about being authentically Italian as soon as we arrived in the fort. We were skeptical. It’s just not possible that you can find good Italian food in Jaisalmer Fort, especially in the most touristy area right near the main gate.

    But we were hungry, and it was late. So we walked up the steep stairs and asked for a table. Our waiter came to the table. “What would you like?” he asked. “What’s good here?” we responded, like anybody should in any Italian restaurant. “The pizza is good,” the waiter said. We were skeptical again. Because Joe makes really good pizza at home, and we’ve probably eaten some of the best pizza in the world in various places in Italy. And we’re in India, which is not famous for pizza.

    “OK, we’ll take the cheese pizza that has the sausage,” we requested. “And your best bottle of wine,” which turned out to be a Cabernet Sauvignon made in India. “Do you have any wines made in Italy?” we asked. “No” was the response. Indian wine it was.

    Well, the wine and the pizza weren’t terrible. Enough said.

    They had an espresso machine in the corner. We decided to return the next day for coffee.

    When we walked up the stairs, we were immediately recognized. In fact, the greeter and several of the waiters walked up to Joe while we were having our drinks and told him he looks like Bill Goldberg. I didn’t know who Bill Goldberg was so asked, afraid once again that I’d be accused of not being in touch with pop culture. Well, yet again I was oblivious to something everyone knew, apparently.

    One of the most popular figures of the professional wrestling boom during the late 1990s and early 2000s, Goldberg is widely regarded as one of the most powerful wrestlers of all time. He is credited with inventing the spear finishing move in wrestling, which he popularized, and for which he gained a reputation for being the best at executing the move.

    My husband is apparently a spitting image of him in the eyes of many Indian men.

    We ate or had some wine at that restaurant five times while we stayed in Jaisalmer, and every time we walked up the stairs Joe would yell “Goldberg’s in the HOUSE!”. And the entire staff would burst out laughing and smile every time they came to our table.

    It’s the little things that matter.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 8

    The Shit Show Wonderful Launch Day

    January 3, 2023 in India ⋅ ⛅ 9 °C

    I’m sitting here in our hotel room in Barmer, India. We drove more than 200 kilometers today (Americans, figure it out, I’m too tired to translate into miles) in the baking tin with wheels. Joe is currently passed out on the bed, likely exhausted from all of the post-adrenaline rush and the gin and tonic(s) we needed to drink after that incredible experience.

    OK, where to start?

    The launch send off. Everyone had to be packed and ready to go by the group photo at 7:45 AM, and the subsequent “send off” with drums and exaltation at 8 AM. We were both awake long before the 6 AM alarm went off, and spent an hour or so packing our gear, having some chai and cheese sandwiches in our hotel room, and heading to the Palace to get the rickshaw packed up.

    The energy was palpable. Everyone was so nervous and excited and ready for whatever. One group had installed kids’ instruments in their rickshaw (a xylophone, drum set and guitar) and was driving around the training circle entertaining everyone with Teletubbies music. There were some people showing off their costumes - leopard onesies, pirate outfits, our Norwegian friends with Viking baseball hats, firefighters, etc. We were in our Rajasthani garb and not feeling terribly out of place.

    A drumming band and Rajasthani dancers started playing the exit music and everyone lined up to drive out into the great expanse. Three people’s rickshaw’s broke down before the first main intersection. We headed with our Viking Norwegian friends to the nearest gas station to fill up our gas canisters. That attracted the entire gas station staff to gather around and watch Joe and Glen the Viking fill up our canisters.

    Our Viking friends broke down once due to their gas cap being on too tight and causing a weird suction phenomenon that completely shut down their rickshaw for lack of gas. All Joe and I suffered from was sore butts from the hundreds and hundreds of bumps on the dusty side road we all thought would be a brilliant idea to explore rather than being on the main highway.

    What we learned on Day 1 was that as soon as you stop for whatever reason - broken down, need to go to the bathroom (take toilet paper with you), just want a rest, need some food - you will immediately attract a crowd of curious onlookers. And the best way to engage them and stop the staring party is to ask them if you can take a selfie with them. Which always works. The smiles of these people are so wonderful. All it takes is to smile first.

    The road less travelled is always the best one.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 8

    The Oil Hunt

    January 3, 2023 in India ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    One of the things in life I am not that passionate about is oil. Well, engine oil I mean. I love olive oil. I use a lot of organic hair and body oils. But I don’t think or care much about engine oil. Until today.

    Today’s journey of over 300 kilometers from Barmer to Mehsana was quite a long trip. We planned that purposefully with Ingrid and Glen, our Norwegian Viking friends, because as it turns out Glen’s birthday is also on January 4 (same as Joe). We all agreed that we’d like to be in a nice hotel in a decent sized town on January 4th in the evening to celebrate Joe’s 60th and Glen’s 57th birthdays. And that required us to do quite a long trip today.

    Little did Joe and I know that the state of Gujarat, where we will be on January 4, is a dry state. Ingrid and Glen told us that over dinner tonight just as we were getting ready to order a gin and tonic in the hotel restaurant. Sigh.

    So there was no gin and tonic waiting for us at the hotel we arrived at after a day that mostly centered around finding engine oil. Which was unexpectedly difficult to find.

    Here’s the thing. We are driving what is known as a “two stroke” auto rickshaw. There is also a “four stroke” auto rickshaw that is slightly more powerful and used for driving in the Himalayas, which we aren’t doing. The two strokes are a bit older and not as common nowadays.

    With the two stroke model, you need to add 40 ml of engine oil to one liter of petrol and mix that when you fill up the vehicle. So you need to buy oil separately and have a canister to mix the oil and petrol.

    We were needing to refill our canisters today so decided around 12 pm - after a 7 am start and incredible sunrise - to stop in a small town and buy some oil. Without that, we would eventually not be able to add any gas to the rickshaws.

    That’s where the adventure started. We stopped at the gas station, where one would expect to be able to buy engine oil. Nope. But if you go a half a kilometer down the road on the right you can find some, they said. So off we went along a bumpy back road and stopped in front of an engine oil shop. Glen and Joe needed to show the guys what kind of oil we needed. There was a lot of head shaking and slowly the crowd grew larger. They didn’t have it.

    Go down the road and turn left, one guy said. Everybody nodded. Okay okay. So off we went. Turned right and ended up in front of another engine oil shop. Head shaking and a slowly growing crowd. Selfies started. Someone offered to go and buy it for us and come back. Only five minutes. No thank you, we said.

    We drove out of there when the crowd was approaching what felt like 100 people. I am pretty sure I am a social media star in India somewhere with all of the Instagram pages I have been featured on.

    We took off down the road and found a gas station and restaurant. The proprietor came outside to meet us. Joe asked him to help us and off Joe went on the back of the owner’s motorcycle to find oil. I hung back with the Vikings and ate a cheese sandwich.

    Joe pulled up an hour later with about 40 bags of oil in a canvas bag. And off we went. A successful hunt.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 9

    “I Learned to Drive in New Jersey…”

    January 4, 2023 in India ⋅ ☀️ 15 °C

    …Otherwise known as “How Joe Volpe Spent His 60th Birthday”.

    So today was the Big Day. The reason we came to India on the Rickshaw Run. Sixty years ago today the world welcomed Joe Volpe into it, specifically into the state of New Jersey.

    Ah, New Jersey. The land of passionate drivers who are highly adept at flipping off and yelling at people who drive like idiots. Well, that’s my impression. The only person I have ever driven with in New Jersey or who is from New Jersey is Joe. And that describes him quite well when he is driving.

    Today was a dream drive come true for the New Jersey driving trained birthday boy. We headed out with the Norwegian Vikings just after 8 am. We had packed and fueled the rickshaws and agreed to take it easy today en route to Bharuch and a king sized suite at the Hyatt Hotel. That room and the possibility of having a shower in a bathroom where hot water and a shower curtain were readily available was like a beacon of light on the proverbial horizon.

    It was a fun morning. We stopped for chai at a roadside stand, and enjoyed the changing landscape under a sunny sky as we went south through Gujarat. Lots of agriculture here - chick peas, tobacco, mustard, cumin, what looks like rice. Lots of cows but that’s another post.

    And lots of trucks. Big trucks. Lots of them. And cars and buses. Those were all going faster than us. Going slower than us were tractors, motorbikes, other rickshaws, some cars, a camel pulling a cart, bicycles, a guy pushing a knife sharpening machine on wheels, and some people walking. A gong show on the highway that never stopped.

    Our first stop, in honor of Glen the Viking’s birthday, was the Harley Davidson Store in Ahmedabad. Glen is a huge Harley fan and the store was very cool and had a nice bathroom (quickly becoming my standard for building quality). Turns out the guy at the counter also had a birthday today so we snapped a pic.

    Just around the corner from that we came upon a group of people driving very old vintage American cars on their way to what is apparently Asia’s largest vintage car show. There was a guy there with an old Bel Air and for once Joe asked an Indian person for a selfie. I can’t imagine how wealthy those people must’ve been to own cars like those.

    Anyways, the drive continued. Now that we are out of Rajasthan it is becoming much more populated and those intersections have started getting pretty hairy. Joe from New Jersey strangely seems to be in his element here when he is driving. The nice part is that everybody is smiling at us as they are also cutting us off. Some of them cut us off on purpose and then ask if we can stop to take a selfie. Most just drive past us after they cut us off and smile and wave.

    At one point we stopped for chai and were slowly taken over by a large herd of cows. Shortly after that the Vikings had an issue with their spark plug, then their gear cable, and then their engine. We towed them (yes, we towed a rickshaw with our rickshaw) to a local mechanic after some help from some locals, and reluctantly left them there so we could make it to the Hyatt before dark.

    The last 30 minutes of the drive were done in the dark, across several very busy intersections. The hotel loomed large and light ahead of us like the beacon it had been all day in our minds.

    As a guy in a car tried to cut us off, Joe yelled at the top of his lungs “Not a chance, mother f’er, I learned to drive in New Jersey!!”

    I don’t think the guy heard him, but I could see Joe smiling in the front mirror.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 10

    Holy Cow(s)

    January 5, 2023 in India ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    Cows. They’re everywhere here. Lying on the road. Standing by the road. Walking next to the road, or across the road. Eating garbage (sad but true). Being fed by random people.

    I literally saw a guy the other morning walk up to a cow and feed it the rest of his breakfast chapati. Shoved the chapati down the throat of the cow, who was pretty eager to eat it. Today we watched an elderly man on a motorcycle slow down on the highway, tap a cow that was lounging by the side of the road on its forehead, and then tap his own forehead and drive away. The other day I stepped in a huge pile of cow shit. Those are also everywhere, both the wet ones, and the piles of dried ones that people collect and burn for fuel.

    Cows, specifically the Desi cow, are sacred animals for the Hindu community in India. They are worshipped and decorated during festivals; holy men also take around cows, with their foreheads smeared in vermillion, to seek alms.

    More seriously, most states forbid cow slaughter, and the ban on beef has been criticised by many because the meat is cheaper than chicken and fish and is a staple for the poorer Muslim, tribal and dalit (formerly untouchable) communities.

    So, there’s a debate in India, which sits at the vortex of religious, political and social-economic sensitivities, about cows. Supporters of secularism and members of non-Hindu religions denounce the laws around forbidding cow slaughter. They are seen as non-inclusive and an attack on fundamental human rights and as a form of discrimination towards the Muslim and Christian communities in India, who are fine with eating beef.

    Fascinating, for sure, and we’ll be doing more digging into all of that while we’re here. Regardless, one of the loveliest parts of our journey so far has been the cows. Especially the huge herd of them who surrounded us on January 4 (Joe’s birthday) on the road while we were drinking chai at a random roadside stand. One large one just checked out the rickshaw, gave us a blessing of some sort in cow language, and walked away.

    Thanks, holy cows. We love you. Even if you are controversial.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 10

    The Dandi Path Spice Dealer

    January 5, 2023 in India ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C

    I have to admit I didn’t fully grasp what an incredible human being Mahatma Gandhi was until I came to India. His legacy is everywhere here.

    Today we drove from Bharuch to Surat, which is one of the oldest cities in India and was the first and original port and office of the British East India Company.

    What we realized as we were on the drive, which was purposely short so we could see some tourist stuff in Surat and get a break from long drives for a day, was that we were driving on the Dandi Path.

    One of the momentous events in the history of India’s struggle for independence was the Dandi Salt March, launched under Gandhi’s leadership.

    Here’s some background. On March 2, 1930, Gandhi wrote a letter to the British Viceroy, Lord Irwin, outlining an 11-point Charter of Demands. This included a considerable reduction in the Pound-Sterling-Rupee exchange rate, curtailing of the military budget, a 50 percent reduction in land revenue, preservation of indigenous textile machinery, abolition of the salt tax, and the release of political prisoners.

    The British government did not react favorably to any of the propositions made. As a result, the Indian Congress Working Committee gave the authority to Gandhi and his followers to initiate civil disobedience. The first step of this was the Dandi March.

    Violating British laws was an integral part of the civil disobedience movement. The British salt tax law in particular captured Gandhi’s attention and soon became the center of his anti-British agenda. According to the British salt tax law, the sale or manufacture of salt by any other source than the British government would be considered a criminal offense.

    Salt was extremely essential for the people of India. The low-lying coastal regions of the country had extensive reserves of the mineral that were easily available to the workers. The new salt tax law, however, forced them to purchase the mineral that could be collected free of cost. In Gandhi's words, "There is no article like salt, outside water, by taxing which the State can reach even the starving millions, the sick, the maimed and the utterly helpless.”

    The issue of salt cut across class, caste, regional and ethnic differences and Gandhi united the entire country under this single cause. He led the Dandi March from the Sabarmati Ashram to Dandi Beach, making speeches along the way to crowds of hundreds and then thousands encouraging peaceful civil disobedience, soulful living, and peace. By the time he symbolically extracted salt from the sand on the beach in Dandi, he had inspired a movement that resulted eventually in India’s independence. Truly the father of a nation.

    So we put-putted along the Dandi Path road, which is essentially a pilgrimage route, and stopped for chai at a roadside stand. And a guy pulled up on a small motorbike and said hi. He proceeded to lift up the seat of his motorbike and it was full of home grown spices - peppercorns, coriander, cumin, cinnamon - from his farm. And he and his wife made a living driving up and down the Dandi Path road every day selling spices to the chai wallas.

    We got a huge pack of peppercorns which will end up in our Italian food at home. And made some new friends on the Dandi Path.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 11

    Gina the Sicilian Rickshaw

    January 6, 2023 in India ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    We’re five days into the Rickshaw Run, and we decided this morning at the start of what would be a long but fascinating drive, to come up with a name for our rickshaw. We figured that would give us someone else to talk to, and a way to verbally and respectfully encourage the beast up hills and down valleys and across rivers.

    What to name the thing? We’ve gone with an Italian / Sicilian type of theme, so we started thinking about some sort of Italian name. Joe suggested it be a female name, kind of like how people name boats with female names. Had to be someone important, or regal. Only a name with royal heritage connected to it was worthy of hauling our asses over hill and dale in India on this insane adventure.

    We did some research and landed on a Sicilian queen. Specifically, Constance of Sicily (Reghina Costanza in Italian), who was the reigning Queen of Sicily from 1194 - 1198, jointly with her spouse for three years, and then with her infant son Frederick II, who was also the Holy Roman Emperor in 1198. Constanza was the heiress of the Norman kings of Sicily. She was also the Holy Roman Empress and later Dowager by marriage to Henry VI, who was also the Holy Roman Emperor.

    Constanza’s life was filled with political intrigue, power struggles and ultimately triumph. I’m not sure if anyone has made a movie or written a historical fiction novel about her, but someone should. If you’re interested, read about her on Wikipedia. Fascinating. She was so important to Sicilian history and so famous that in the Divine Comedy, Dante places Constance in Paradise:

    "This other radiance that shows itself
    to you at my right hand, a brightness kindled
    by all the light that fills our heaven - she

    has understood what I have said: she was
    a sister, and from her head, too, by force,
    the shadow of the sacred veil was taken.

    But though she had been turned back to the world
    against her will, against all honest practice,
    the veil upon her heart was never loosed.

    This is the splendor of the great Costanza,
    who from the Swabians' second gust engendered
    the one who was their third and final power."

    — Divine Comedy, Paradiso, Canto III, lines 109-120, Mandelbaum translation

    Reghina Costanza. So fitting. Too long to say over and over again, so we’ve named her “Gina”.

    We drove through hill country today, ascending to who knows how many meters in elevation through spectacular mountainous countrysides. On the way, Joe saw a roadside shop selling the type of colorful pompons that you see on Sicilian donkey carts, which he had been looking for. Turns out they were being crafted by blind and disabled people who were living at a special school for blind and disabled kids in the middle of the mountains that we ultimately had a tour of. Stay tuned for that story in a future post.

    Anyways, Gina is pretty decked out. I’m sure we’ll find more stuff to adorn her with as the journey continues.    Read more

  • TravelerJoeLea’s Indian Adventure
    Day 12

    Traveling with Babasaheb

    January 7, 2023 in India ⋅ ☀️ 24 °C

    Today we traveled from Nashik to Ahmednagar, where we are now relaxing in our hotel room. We were very intentional about today’s journey. Our aim was to get to Ahmednagar before dark, and we’ve arranged a tour driver to take us to the Ellora Caves on Sunday so we don’t have to drive the rickshaw for one glorious day.

    More on the Ellora Caves later. The route today wasn’t necessarily special, but what we experienced on the way definitely was. On the way to pulling over for a morning chai, we happened upon two young guys riding a bicycle cart filled with ceramic statues. Hindu gods and goddesses, elephants, and, one glorious statue of some guy with glasses and a suit on, staring us out of the back of the cart as we drove along.

    “I’ve got to buy that,” yelled Joe over the din of traffic and the Bollywood music we had playing on our rigged up stereo system. He flagged down the two guys, who were staring at us in disbelief (not an uncommon reaction from locals here when they see two white people driving a rickshaw along the highway), and asked them to stop.

    “How much for this?”, asked Joe, pointing at the golden shiny head statue. “300 rupees” responded the kid. That’s about five bucks. “Okay okay” responded Joe gleefully, clutching his golden man head statue.

    I sat in the back of the rickshaw while Joe grabbed some zip ties (the most useful thing we’ve packed, truly) and strapped the ceramic head thing to the front dashboard of the rickshaw. “Who is that,” I asked. “I have no idea, but it’s awesome,” responded Joe. A group of onlookers at the nearby chai stand looked on, and then ventured over for the inevitable selfie session. They didn’t seem to understand why we had pulled over the ceramics peddler, but were happy to get a group shot just the same.

    A few times in the next hour we almost missed or completely missed turns because Joe was staring down at his beloved head statue. I started getting concerned. “At least we should find out who that is,” I suggested.

    The opportunity to do so came at our lunch stop around 2 PM. We encountered a lovely family restaurant which also happened to be filled with mostly men drinking beer and doing their Saturday afternoon motorcycle tours. Our waiter spoke excellent English, and as it turns out was a cargo ship worker who has sailed all over the world working on cargo ships and sending money home to his family. He’s paid for both of his sisters’ weddings and is taking care of his parents that way. At the moment he’s working as a waiter because COVID slowed down the work opportunities in the shipping industry, apparently.

    “Who is this a statue of?”, Joe asked him. “Why Sir and Mehmsab, that is Babasaheb”, he replied, like we should have absolutely known who that was. “He wrote the Indian Constitution,” he explained. But that’s not all Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, the Father of the Indian Constitution, was famous for. Dr. Ambedkar was born in 1891 and was an Indian nationalist, jurist and political leader. He was also born into the Mahar Caste, who were considered to be the untouchables.

    When he was a child, Ambedkar and other untouchable children were segregated and given little attention or help by teachers. Even though they had access to education, they were not allowed to sit inside the classroom. When they needed to drink water, someone from a higher caste had to pour the water on them from above as other Indians were not allowed to touch either the water or the vessel that contained it. Dr. Ambedkar experienced this and other significant impacts of discrimination throughout his childhood and into his early adulthood.

    He eventually was awarded a scholarship to Columbia University in New York in 1913 and stayed there until he earned his Ph.D in Economics in 1927. He returned to India and spent many years leading the movement in India to abolish the caste system and tirelessly promoting human rights for untouchables. In 1947, Indian’s first Prime Minister Nehru appointed him to be Chairman of the Drafting Committee of the Constitution for the future Republic of India.

    Under Babasaheb’s leadership, the resulting Indian constitution guaranteed protection for a wide range of civil liberties for individual citizens, including freedom of religion, the abolition of untouchability, and the outlawing of all forms of discrimination. Ambedkar argued for extensive economic and social rights for women, and won the Assembly's support for introducing a system of reservations of jobs in the civil services, schools and colleges for members of scheduled castes and scheduled tribes and Other Backward Class, a system akin to affirmative action. India's lawmakers hoped to eradicate the socio-economic inequalities and lack of opportunities for India's depressed classes through these measures.

    Our waiter told us about all of this, in his own words, and the pride and love of his country shone through his eyes as he explained all of that to us. Then we took a selfie. And carried on our way, with Babasaheb watching over us.    Read more

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