Transport.

Monday, the other MBA intern and I headed out on our own to hospitals for data collection. After negotiating with a rickshaw driver for 10 minutes over 80 cents (we won), we quickly found ourselves speeding and swerving into oncoming traffic headed in the general direction of the health center. The drivers have very little knowledge of specifics (and it doesn’t help that few places have actual addresses), so we usually stop multiple times along the way for directions. Or, rickshaw drivers shout to each other while stopped in traffic. We’ve found calling the hospital and handing the cell phone to the driver works sometimes … Or, we stop and ask at a post office … Or, we get out and walk for a while and find another rickshaw driver who seems slightly more competent … Or, we ask a security guard at one of the many guarded buildings … It’s not really an easy process.


After a late lunch, we came out of the restaurant to find the rain had completely flooded the streets. There are no pedestrian crosswalks, so the only way to cross the street is to frantically dodge hundreds of cars, motorcycles, and rickshaws, which all come frighteningly close to you (we’re talking inches, not feet). We’ve found it’s best to wait for a local to cross and follow closely behind, otherwise we’ve found ourselves stuck in the middle of 10 “lanes” of traffic with no way backward or forwards.

At any rate, with the streets flooded, not only did we have to dodge traffic while crossing the street, but we were literally wading in a foot of water. Shoes, pants, skirts – all soaked in god knows what was rushing down those streets. At one point, we scaled a wall by holding on to a store security fence (photo to come).  Gross.