You want an education? You got one.

Recently, there was talk among friends of how drivers are susceptible to con-men at traffic lights. Each person in the group piped in with a story of how they had been approached by strangers asking for help. One person narrated an incident when he was approached as he was exiting his housing society by someone pretending to live in the same society. The person told my friend that he needed help with a flat tire and if he could please take him to the nearest mechanic. Luckily, my friend smelled a rat and sped away. But, these stories made me think. Setting aside the con aspect, I was struck by the possibility of real problems on the part of the person asking for help. What if the roles were flipped? What if we are the ones asking for help? I needn’t have stretched my imagination. It turns out that I have found myself in that role-reversed circumstance a few times. Not once or twice. But, on many many occasions over a span of two years. Let me explain.

It was in another life. But, one fine day I showed up in the US for a master’s degree. First things being first, housing was a top priority. So, I got together with some people and immediately signed a lease on an apartment. It’s only after that that I learnt of my department being 22 miles away in the uni’s second campus in another city. That was far away, and the university didn’t have shuttle services between campuses. Still, I shrugged away the problem. How hard could it be? I had just traveled 8000 miles away from family on a whim. I certainly wasn’t going to let 22 miles disturb my thinking. I decided that when semester began, I would man up and find a way. Turns out that I did find a way. Many ways in fact. But, at the time, I had no way of knowing that it was going to be way harder than what I had imagined, or that a big part of my education was going to be about finding solutions to real and immediate problems that I faced.

So, when the day came, I ate a big lunch and started out along the busy state road lined with car dealerships and strip malls. I walked and walked and walked. Gradually my excitement diluted itself to mere enthusiasm. A little while later, that enthusiasm too gave way to a neutral ‘lets-get-this-done’ mindset. Another 20 to 30 minutes later, I was starting to think that maybe I should just turn back. But, somehow that didn’t seem like a good choice at the time. What would be the point of turning back after having walked this far? So, plod on I did. My Bata sandals weren’t built for this sort of stress and my feet were hurting. I was hungry and thirsty and would have traded my right arm for a good plate of idly and filter coffee, or at least a vada pao and chai. But, that was all wishful thinking. The sourness and frustration set in ever so slowly. By the time, I reached my university building, I was well and truly livid with my life choices.

Little did I realize at the time that a lot of how I felt was caused by real mismatches in terms of reference. Americans have a way of referring to a 6-lane road as a “street”. Now, any image of a street in my mind was nothing more than 20 feet wide and encroached upon by a zillion vendors. So, it was hard for me to swallow that something that was almost 200 feet wide, without counting the sidewalks, was also a street.

People kept telling me that my destination would show up if I just kept “going down the street”. Their assumption was that I had gotten out of a car and walked into their store to ask for directions. They had no idea that I had just come in off “the street”. I kept thinking that these Americans were nuts!! But, I was too polite on my first day to ask further questions. So, I kept walking. And walking. And walking. It took me a full 7 hours on day 1 of class to get to class. My classes began at 7 PM. I walked in at almost 8:45.

But, once I got into class, all my bitterness faded away. My classmates’ reactions ran the gamut; from downright amazement at my determination to incredulous laughter at my fresh-off-the-boat vibe. I was the point of discussion for the rest of the evening. I made friends immediately. It was not going to be so bad after all!!

Now for the next days.

Once I had found out where my classes were going to be, I thought about moving closer. But, I quickly put that out of my mind. For one thing, I was locked into a lease. Second, I didn’t much want to move either. The town with the main campus near which I lived was pretty. I certainly didn’t want to swap those lodgings for seedier options downtown closer to my actual classes. Also, I rather liked my flat mates and didn’t feel like rolling the dice with new people at another apartment. So, I decided to stay put.

The question then became how I was going to solve the transportation problem. I could of course buy a car. But, I was loath to buying anything through a debt instrument; certainly not on my stipend. Incidentally, this is a sensibility that I carry to this day. I also didn’t have a lumpsum amount with me to put towards a dependable used car. To be clear, I could not have done with a $500 car. I needed transportation that would reliably take me 50 miles every day just for my classes. Grocery runs and other small trips would have added to that mileage requirement. Any car that would give me that kind of service would have cost me $4000 to $5000 at least. Money that I didn’t have and didn’t want to borrow. End result = I was left with a truly vexing chicken-egg situation. I needed a car to go to class –> money to buy a car –> a job to earn the money –> a degree to get a job!! Total existential gridlock.

After dwelling on the problem for a long time, I decided to solve it incrementally. I broke down the problem into manageable parts and attacked each part with a multi-pronged approach.

The return leg from class was solved easily. All my classmates were working professionals and some of them had to pass my town on their way home from class. So, when they could, they gladly dropped me home. I actually had multiple return rides lined up for each day. Indeed, I had back-ups to the back-up to the main ride. Sorted.

The real problem then was getting to class. So, what were my solutions?

1. One option was to go the bike/bus route. I got myself a bicycle. I would ride it to the bus stop (2 miles away) and then prop it in the front while I rode the bus. But, the bus took forever and was filled with shady folk. The bus was also insanely cold with the air conditioning cranked up to maximum. On more than one occasion, I thought that my bladder was going to explode; what with the bus crawling along and me freezing inside after a full lunch!! This feeling was compounded when it rained as it so often did. The pitter patter of the water on the roof of the bus made me miserable. I so wanted to get off and run into the nearest gas station. Only, if I did that, I would have to wait 60 to 90 minutes for the next bus. Man, that was painful…. The other problem was that if I chose this option, I was locked into it on the return too. Meaning, even if I had people who could take me home after class, I couldn’t take them up on the offer. For one thing, I could not abandon the bike overnight downtown near class. It would most likely have been stolen. And two, I certainly could not impose on the person taking me home to also squeeze my bicycle into the trunk of their car. The trunk of their car probably already had some stuff and the part of my bike that stuck out would undoubtedly scratch the paint of their car. So, the bike/bus option was always chosen when all other solutions had failed.
2. There was also three carriage train that allowed me to accommodate my bike. Frankly, I rather enjoyed the train. There is absolutely nothing like train travel to put one in a contemplative mood. But, the problem here was that the stations were far away at either end of the journey. So, I had to plan well ahead and make doubly sure that I didn’t miss the train; and if I biked to the train station, I had the third wheel problem on the return. Still, when I could, I took the train just for fun.
3. In search of more substantive solutions, I walked into the other academic departments that were housed in my class building and scoured their student lists for people travelling to class either from the main campus or from close to it. I found a few. But, their times of travel didn’t match mine. Finally, I found one guy from Ecuador who had class at about the same time as me. I tracked him down and offered to split his fuel costs if he would take me with him. He agreed happily. This arrangement worked for a full two semesters. But, only for one day of the week. The other days were still a question mark.
4. That brings me to the point of this write-up. Ironically, one of my most dependable solutions was to ask people for rides. I asked close friends when I could. But most often, I hit up random strangers. Believe it or not, almost no one turned me down. Two years and countless classes, and I don’t remember one shoo away. Office goers, construction workers, nurses, Hispanic immigrants, landscapers, doctors; you can name the vocation and chances are that I can dig out a person from my memory of someone having given me a ride to class. People simply astonished me with their kindness. Maybe it was my bag full of books; or maybe it was just that I sounded sincere. But, I hit the bulls’ eye 9 times out of 10.

The way it played out was that I would start walking from my apartment building and immediately flag own any vehicle that I saw. This was before even I had left my giant housing complex. Many times, I would simply ask them to drop me to the bus stop which by itself was aways away. Some people would do that. But others would often inquire where I was going. This would typically happen once I got into the car. I would tell them my story and watch stupefied when they offered to take me all the way to class some 23 miles away!! I mean, I could sort of understand their actions if they were headed in my direction. But, many times they were going out of their way to help me. It was easily a 35-minute drive one way with traffic. So, we are taking about absolute strangers taking more than an hour of their time to make sure I got to class!! I was amazed and frankly confused at my own success in this department.

A few incidents stand out.

• Once I was watching a bunch of construction guys laying the roof on a building near campus. I saw their work truck and just walked up to the guy studying blueprints on the hood of the car. I asked him if he was headed south and told him my problem. I don’t remember his exact words. All I remember are his nicotine stained fingers, steely grey eyes and a raspy voice. He mumbled something in response; something to the effect of his work requiring another 30 minutes of time. Maybe I could stick around? Sure, I said and proceeded to watch their work with great interest. Sure enough, 30 minutes later, he asked me to climb into the cab of his truck and him and his buddy ferried me to class. They asked me tonnes of questions about what I was studying, where I was from and how I chosen this university. I answered as best as I could. Then they bought me coffee to help me stay awake until class ended at 10 PM.
• Another time, I flagged down a car. The owner politely turned me down saying that he was headed in the opposite direction. I thanked him and kept walking. About 10 minutes later, the car pulled up next to me and the driver waved me in. He said that he had read my lips in the rear-view mirror as he drove away; and that I had said “God****it”. He requested that I not take the Lord’s name in vain as there really is nothing to be angry or frustrated about. Wait!! Let me get this right. This guy had gone out of his way and spent valuable time and money helping me because he didn’t want me committing blasphemy under my breath?!! Wow!! I promised him that I would watch my language. Cut to present day, and it gets away from me on some days when I feel truly rogered. But, most times I remember what I promised the guy and continue to watch my language. Now, 20 years later!!
• Then there was the single mom who simply had to get work. I caught her as she was nearing the gate of our housing society. She told me that she would take me to the train station. I readily agreed. Without the baggage of my bicycle, I could get any ride I wanted on the way back. So, we went to the train station. I swear to God, she had an absolute change of heart two traffic lights later. I had said nothing at all. I certainly had not tried to persuade her to help me further. She had said the train station and that was quite enough for me to feel thrilled to bits with her decision. And yet, instead of the train station which was 4 miles in the opposite direction, she turned left and drove me straight to class 23 miles away. She said that she had a nephew in Haiti who she wished would go to school and stay focused. Then, she wished me the best and was gone. I could not believe it!!
• The best memory of all was the Hispanic dude in the low rider. He spoke very little English and I spoke ZERO Spanish. Again, I extracted a promise from him that he would take me to bus station 2 miles away. He said “Hokay no problema. I take you to bus”. And then, as God is my witness, he just floored the pedal and merged into the freeway. Next stop, class!! Are you kidding me?

Every day was new. I would wake up not knowing how I was going to get to class. When I look back, I am amazed that I didn’t miss a single day of graduate school. I made it every single time. Powered only by my wits. The next decade in the US was no different. Every single day brought new and immediate problems for me to solve. Most were existential in nature. I am not even sure how I managed to keep my head up and get through it all. The only thing I am certain of is that it was ONLY the will of my parents’ blessings what helped me navigate a literal quagmire of obstacles in my time there.