Ice Skating and Indian Traffic

Fabio pulled me aside last Saturday morning and said, "Do you want to take the boys ice skating and then get hot chocolate at the Biltmore?" How exciting. We all got dressed and drove downtown. On the way, Fabio (He is back to being Fabio after spending a few weeks in Hawaii)commented how he couldn't wait to bum out the beret wearing poets and tweed jackets at the Biltmore. He used to love to stand outside the fancy restaurants that line Hope Street in Bristol, RI with a screaming baby and fidgety toddler and earnestly contemplate the menu. He'd look at me and say, "Watch this." He made everyone in the window seats freak. My husband knows how to have fun. We have loud kids, and there is always something on their mind that they need to discuss right away.

I am used to skating by myself between 12 and 2 on weekdays. Occasionally 3, at the most 5, people might join me. Weekends? Amateur hour. After about 20 minutes of weekend skating I pulled the boys aside and asked them to find as many similarities as they could between a ride in a rickshaw in India and ice skating on a Saturday in Providence,RI. The list was endless. It was jammed with people. I reckon I could stop there.

You have your high speed fanatics weaving in and out of stalled vehicles at record speeds, just sort of pissed off. You have your inevitable collisions, but everyone just gets up, dusts themselves off, and continues on with their day.

One day after school when we were in India the boys and I went out for cold drinks. We decided to have a little adventure. I had found a flier for a restaurant in my mailbox. I showed it to the rickshaw driver. He had no idea where it was and kept making stops at tea stalls and barber stands asking for help. We finally found it, but it was on the other side of 12 lanes of traffic. He pulled a U-turn and darted and weaved until he made his way.
The boys and I held our breath. We got inside, ordered some Limca and relaxed. Before the cold drinks were served, we witnessed a bang up accident right where we were just dropped off. A motorcycle and moped slammed into each other and the SEVEN people involved went flying. No one was really hurt (I am just guessing this from the scene that followed). They all got up, had a good laugh, re-adjusted their mirrors,and went their separate ways. Two of the passengers were holding parts of one of the bikes as they rode away.

That is EXACTLY what happens on free for all Saturdays at the ice rink. I laugh out loud at the blatant similarities. You have the women in beautiful saris clutching the drivers and you have the women in little ice skating outfits holding on to their instructor, both expecting to eventually tumble. A given.
There are idiots on the cell phone weaving in and out like they are the only ones out there. THEY have places to go that YOU have only heard of. The person they are talking to is very very important. Loud crackly music is playing. It sounds foreign.Then of course there is the way it just works seamlessly for awhile, near misses and continued motion.

I much prefer going at noon on a weekday. The only time I can bring the boys, however, is usually when other people have the great idea to do the same. Weekends are torture. I feel like I have a million uninvited guests in my home.