drivers

First of all, I'm such a bad blogger. I've been super busy at work lately and yesterday didn't even have time to open my blog much less write an entry. But today I'm determined to find the time.
Anyway...I just finished the book White Tiger. Since I've gotten here I've tried to read books about India. The book was really good, a lot of it is set in Delhi so it was fun to read about places that I know. Without giving too much away, the book is written from the perspective of a very poor man who manages to raise himself to the level of a driver. He definitely becomes disgruntled and unhappy with his role in life.
As I was reading this I couldn't help but think about my driver, and all the other drivers in the city.
See, the life of a driver it not an easy one, they don't make a ton of money, but relatively speaking it is a pretty good job for someone without much of an education. I've noticed that among the drivers there is a definite hierarchy (as with almost everything in India). The "highest" on the totem pole of drivers are usually company drivers or embassy drivers; driving for a foreigner is pretty high up there as well since we usually pay more and demand less time; and when you are driving an Indian the type of car you drive is a status symbol.
The weird thing for me is that all day long my driver just sits outside the office waiting for me. I feel badly, but he hangs out with the other drivers, and I do, on occasion, need to go out during the day so it is nice having him there. Of course the fact that the drivers sit around all day means that if you ever want to know what is really going on in the office they are the people to ask because they all gossip with each other about us.
I can't help but wonder what my driver thinks of me, does he like me? Does he think I'm a rich spoiled foreigner? Does he not care and just see me as a paycheck? I think he does care and I think he likes driving me.
It would probably be better for my sanity if I didn't think about these things but I'm just so dependent on my driver that I find myself hoping that he is happy and that he likes me because I would hate to lose him.
I've realized over the past few months how rare it can be to have a good driver. Like our company driver I find rude and I also think is somewhat of a dangerous driver...I found out today that one of my colleagues also doesn't like his attitude so I'm not alone. And I'm on this ex-Pat email list in Delhi and once every few weeks someone will send an email around looking for a driver because they had to fire theirs for either always being late, or trying to rip them off (saying they got a full tank of gas but they really only got a 1/2 tank and pocketed the money), or, much worse, drinking on the job.
I feel like this blog is turning into an ode to my driver. I guess one of the interesting/different things about living here is that I am extremely dependent on other people in order to live my life and I'm just feeling lucky that I have really good trustworthy people that take care of me and I just hope that they know how much I appreciate them.