Riding with the Godfather

It’s countdown time for the Global Pangea Day festival. T-minus 24 minutes. I’m sitting like a king on a thin concert sky bed with a view over the big screen and the people who are excitingly awaiting the big moment. We are all together inside the Community & Education centre in Dharavi where we’ve been working on putting up a screening for the people of one of the biggest slums in the world.

I hear a low kissing sound, a sound which Indians use to get attention like the westerners do whistling. I didn’t realise that it was meant for me until I hear it again followed by Pinn, Pinn (Finn, Finn). I turn my head and see the cousin of a boy that has been helping us out with the set up for the PD screening. He gives me the sign to climb down and come out.

I had talked to him earlier in the evening about his bike and how I’d like to ride a bike in Mumbai someday so he decided to fulfil my wish. I was a bit skeptic jumping on his Indian Bajaj 180 special edition, without a helmet wearing only a t-shirt, shorts and my Jesus sandals, afraid of falling of and dieing. I think alright the hell with it I’ll go for a short ride.

The ride starts in a slow paste, riding against traffic – everything is still normal to me. He steers the bike over to the “right” lane (left) and starts to throttle a bit more. I fell like an idiot hanging on to his hips, which are smaller than a models starving herself for her first catwalk, when another bike comes driving past us and the guy in the back i chilling talking on his cellphone. Trying to win some cool-points I re-sit myself holding on for dear life to the handle on the back of the bike. I try to dry my eyes, watery like never before because of the wind, driving in 45 km/h zigzagging between cars, trucks and potholes. Feeling afraid like before in my life until, he says “This bike good yes?” my reply automatic “yes! really good”. So he, happy with his 6 months old bike, asks me “you want to go to Bandra to see bike show?” I reply with a “WHAT?” not hearing anything because of wind and traffic. So the dude turns his head to me and shouts it again “BANDRA YOU WANT? BIKE SHOW? 5 MINUTES ONLY” Then I realized that being afraid of my life before was a dream compared to when we almost crash into a bus driving in 50 km/h. A bit in shock after a emergency brake I think that it just cant get much worse than this. Then an open space comes and I realize that we’re on the highway. And he tells me that this bike is so good you see see, gives it a bit more gas and we are driving in a little over a 100km/h.

For you people that haven’t been in India possibly don’t know how much dust is on the streets. And for those others that don’t know that dust gives lesser grip. And you that don’t know my history of falling of bikes in those situations. I can tell you that my pants were not far away for turning color to brown.

Thank god we come to the “bike show” which is a service line on a bridge in Bandra where a big gathering of young bikers do whealies (riding on only the back wheel) and talk trash about the police while drinking coffee, from a kid salesman with a big thermos in a normal bike. We see some shows and talk some trash and then head home.

I notice my phone vibrating in my pocket and guess that It’s my co-pilots are wondering where I am, since the show just started a minute ago. I pick it up when we slow down to a normal speed and it’s Ingemar asksing if I’m all right. I’d been gone for a long time and one of the Indians was a tad worried that something had happened.

Apparently he told Ingemar that if was alone I might be in trouble but If I was still with his cousin nobody needed to worry. Ingemar curious why so gets the answer than I was apparently out riding with a Don in the Mafia.

Ain’t nothing wired about that!

“When they thought I was out they pull me back in!”

All the best from India
Finn, Babyface, bambino, Sverrisson