I moved to India in 2011, and began making my way around Bangalore in buses. Mostly in old, clinky metal boxes where I sometimes had to squeeze between the conductor on the steps and a few hundred others. At 32, I was new to the country, and couldn’t afford the luxuries of private transportation. Auto rickshaws were a luxury. In 2013, I began using more ricks, and life was a bit more comfy. Cut to 2016, when Uber and Ola began competing for my daily giving through pooled rides; and then in 2017 when I decided it would just be easier if I don’t have to coordinate with strangers; instead, I could, by virtue of my family and personal background, take private rides using global apps.

2018: my best friend got married, and then his wife got pregnant. Early 2019, we began the process of finding me a car, so that I could welcome my dear Joey Jagadjambu to the Southern part of India, such as Bangalore, where I lived. Ladies from various WhatsApp groups gently pushed me towards automatic vehicles, pointing out how their knees were impacting negatively through overuse on manual transmission cars with ABC pedals (Accelerator; Brake; Clutch) and gear shifting. While pick up, control, and petrol usage aren’t as good in an automatic, since I grew up driving automatics in the US, it felt right not to stress over learning manual transmission in India. Especially since I hadn’t really driven since 2009 ANYWHERE. After a few rounds of test driving cars, I settled on a Renault Kwid, or Joey car, as it is affectionately and respectfully called in our house.

Joey car came into my life on May 31, 2019.

Initially, I was worried whether I could drive in India for all the usual reasons: would I be able to handle the multiple ways of driving and multiple travellers on the road? I tried to ask around for a driver to help me out for a few days. Not truly being Indian (at that point, I’d only lived in India for 8 years, still a baby to this giant of a being whose multiple pasts informs its present and future), I just couldn’t figure out how to get someone. Plus at that point, the apps we use today (such as DriveU), weren’t so common or trustworthy as they are now.

Not wanting to waste time, the next morning, I ignited Joey car’s engine, and off I went to Whitefield! I was surprised that I didn’t have any difficulties driving in India. I was able to navigate the traffic, potholes, and drive on “the other side” of the road. I was able to handle it when a cow sat on the road or a hijara found me at the junction.

Since then, I’ve had the opportunity and courage to drive throughout Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, and Kerala, even during Covid Times. Recently, I had Joey car brought to Banaras, where I’m currently pursing a PhD (at Banaras Hindu University). I’ve driven in countrysides and city traffic; I’ve even been stopped by a caravan of camels and a couple weeks ago, a neelgai lunged out from nowhere when I was on the highway. I’ve drive through eastern Uttar Pradesh and western Bihar, where I found no other woman on the road. I’ve rented a car in a few places also.

And, I’ve become a driving instructor for dozens of women (and even some men), friends whom I wish to empower through the power of self-sufficiency.

Do you want to learn how to drive in India? Join me on Joey car Journeys!