A fair and balanced look at the right of way

You drive me crazy

I've realized that I expand a lot of energy complaining about rickshaw drivers.  While generally I think they deserve it, it occurred to me that I should perhaps also highlight the moments when they surprise me (in a good way).
On Saturday night, we got our first rain show since my arrival.  Thunder, lightning, and violent rain.  It woke me up at 4AM because through my window screen AND malaria bednet, I was getting wet.  And yet, when walking to work on Sunday morning, I neglected to account for the possibility of massive puddles when picking out my footwear for the day.
"I'm tough," I tell myself as I start spotting puddles on the walk.  And yet, when I see that truck coming in slow motion, driving through the puddle next to me, and mouth (in a really deep voice) "noooooooooooooooooo" as the water sprays up and throughly soaks me from the ribs down, I feel more like the wicked witch defeated by Dorothy in the wizard of oz (although "I'm melting! I'm melting!" is not exactly what I yelped when the water hit me).

Then I get into the slum.  There's mud but it's not that bad.  Until I get to the bend in the road and see that it's just a massive lake, with a very tenuous path that people are taking on one side.  Can't go over it.  Sure as heck not going through it.  Guess I'll have to try to go around it.  At least I'm already covered in it!  These rules of no touching between women and men are challenged by the narrow path, but everyone manages beautifully.  I get through with only the faintest traces of mud on my feet and sandals.  And by the time I get to work 15 minutes later, the heat has mercifully dried my clothes and I can walk in with dignity.
As the sun rises, I notice that there is an unfamiliar glare in my peripheral vision.  The tin roofs of the slum have been scrubbed clean by the storm and man do they shine!   Totally changes the view.  I kind of want to put on my sunglasses......
On the way home, I optimistically thought that the massive lake might have dried up.  Physics fail.  But this time, as I'm staring at it, an empty rickshaw is coming the other way.  I wave and make the universal "I am a damsel in distress" face, and he does a u-turn to let me in.  I motion that I want to go "to the other side" and he nods.  No more than 20 seconds later, we've arrived there, and I say "ekhane" which I think means, "here."  He stops without the normal lag time of 10-50m (depending on how forcefully you protest that they've overshot, especially as in this case it's fairly certain that the other side of the puddle is not my final destination).  I had pulled tk 10 (13 cents) out of my wallet during our brief journey and hold it out to him once i jump out.  He shakes his head.  This was truly just an act of kindness!  I've been in Bangladesh long enough that I'm starting to get better at imposing my will on others instead of always losing (although I'm not good enough yet to start keeping score).  I insist and he accepts.  I continue on my walk home, feeling groovy, until 20m later I'm almost knocked off my by another rickshaw driver saying "Madaaaaaaam, rickshaw lagbe?" in that creepy way.  The Sisyphean existence of a pedestrian in Dhaka.  And the night's walk home begins again. . . .now.

They got my goat!  Literally.