Friday morning we took a bus to Meerut, where my Dad grew up. One of my uncles came to meet us on his bicycle from the bus stop. Slightly confused about how we were supposed to get to the house, I followed my dad and his brother over to his bike. Looking around for some sort of transportation, I heard my Dad say: “Okay, let’s go Kathleen.” I turned around and saw him standing next to the smallest bicycle rickshaw I have ever seen. At first I thought he was joking, because I did not see any way we were both going to fit on this seat meant for one with both pieces of luggage. However, I realized quite a while ago that everything is possible in India, and where there is an Indian, there is
... read more
