I’ve always been something of a fanboy of police, tending to take the side of the boys in blue over, say, Don’t Tase Me, Bro. But living in India has made me appreciate American police even more.
My first encounter with police was last weekend, when we went to a 24-hour truck stop outside of town late at night. Everything closes early here, and some people got hungry, so we made a run. The guy driving had made a point not to drink anything, even a sip, lest he get stopped and get breathalizered. He explained that even though 0.00 isn’t the legal limit, anything above that can get you hassled by the cops, and that can get problematic late at night. Sure enough, there was a road block on the way, with a breathalizer for everyone passing by. I got stopped at a road block once at the U of I. They asked me a couple of questions and sent me on my way. There were no questions here. The cop simply stuck out the breahtalizer, Ajit blew into it, and then we left. I suppose that’s simpler than the Q&A in the US, but it seemed intrusive. But that wasn’t it for the night. We were stopped at a second roadblock, this one much more in the middle of nowhere, and this time with no breathalizer. Ostensibly, this was because they were expecting a security threat, but I’m pretty sure this was just to extract bribes. To be honest, I’m not positive anyone there was actually a cop–you could set up a road block with a couple of barriers and something that looks like a uniform. They were suspicious of why we were going to this truck stop so late at night, but they had no reason to hold us, so even if they were just a bunch of yahoos, they had nothing on us. We encountered neither road block on the return trip.
My next one came when Sanju’s car got booted for illegal parking. For starters, the spot she was in was in no way blocking a road–between the curb and protruding driveways, there’s no way anyone could have driven along the path she’d parked in. Second, there were tons of cars parked there, and no clear signage. And their response is... boot everyone? No tickets, just mass-botting? Third, this is freaking India. Come on, people. THIS is what your tax dollars go to? Not, say, cleaning the streets? Or making it so the power doesn’t turn off daily? Anyway, we arrived back at the car to see a sign that said that we’d been "clamped," and which gave a number (this was in Kanada and English). This was a problem because Sanju and I were in the cell phone district to get new phones, as she’d dropped hers in the Arabian Sea and mine had inexplicably stopped turning on. But we were able to get them there to un-clamp us, but only after paying the whopping RS.200 fine (about $4.50). Again, the Indian police confuse me.
Tulsi, Sanju’s roommate, also had a good story of one of her encounters with a cop. She was pulled over for talking on her phone while driving. She truthfully told the cop that it was her mom, and he seemed sympathetic, and they both used this as a segue to bribery, rather than ticketry. Tulsi realized, though, that all she had on her was an Rs.10 note (20 cents-ish), and an Rs.500 note ($12, but quite a bit of money here). She offered the Rs.10 note, and the guy balked. "10 rupees? Really?" She then asked if he had change, which only annoyed him more. In her final act of desperation, she offered her small stash of chocolates that she keeps on hand for beggar children. A huge smile appeared on the cop’s face, and he laughed and took the bribe. If only one of us worked in advertising, we’d have a whole campaign lined up for Cadbury.
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