A Riotous Rickshaw Ride Into the Soul of India

The rally organizers encouraged the participants to personalize, or "pimp out," their rickshaws, just as Indian drivers do, often with pictures of their favorite Indian film stars.

"It's been real. Maybe too real," laughed Jen Cook, 37, of Rickshaw Grrlz, clutching a bust of Elvis that rode with her and her partner in their auto-rickshaw, also adorned with faux fur and hot pink boas.

Cook and other competitors said they liked the rally because it was a chance to have fun and do some good at the same time.

"When we handed out school supplies at some of the poorer schools, and the girls were in their blue uniforms with ribbons in their hair, I just lost it and bawled," said Solanki, the Takoma Park resident, who works as registration specialist for loans at the Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of the American Indian.

Solanki, whose parents were born in India but who now live in Connecticut, said she didn't want to worry them, so she told her father she was just visiting India, "not driving an auto-rickshaw through the countryside!"

In addition to dealing with the emotional vicissitudes of travel, those in the race said they were often physically exhausted. They had "rickshaw hangovers," the result of a steady hum of traffic and wind in the ear for eight hours a day, along with wrist strain from gunning the engine.

Many of the rickshaws broke down -- clutches got stuck, breaks failed, mufflers fell off -- too many times to count.

Some Indian reporters embedded with the race asked female participants questions including: "What kind of salary do you make and are you married?"

Joe Pyrek, a 24-year-old participant who works in Richmond, Va., said he first came to India to help set up a call center. He wondered what was behind the curtain of the swanky hotels and over-air-conditioned boardrooms.

"When I heard about this race, I had to do it. I learned so much about Indian culture. I loved that when we broke down, dozens of Indians would help," Pyrek said. "In America, they would probably just give you the finger."

At the rally's closing ceremony, Rotary Club officials handed out certificates to each team that read: "You are shining examples of courage in the face of adversity and have a sense of adventure and exploration and concern and compassion for humanity."

They also gave out horns, perhaps a mistake in a country where a prevailing rule of the road is, if you can't repair the brakes, make the horn louder.

"Friends, our roads may not be that good," said Shetty, the state minister. "But the road to the heart of every Indian is open."

With that, everybody blew the horns, for about a minute. It sounded like the noise from an authentic Indian street.