update
First, I have a book to recommend.
The Great Hedge of India.
If your at all interested in history, or India, it is absolutely fascinating and a very good read.
So thanks. ;-)
And now to the short letter I’ve been writing for a few weeks:
Boy am I glad I brought my computer to India. It has been invaluable at work, and it’s my savior during down time.
At work I’ve used it to create digital movies for my NGO and to digitally archive two decades of events, special programs, and guests that they’ve recorded on VHS.
But more importantly, it’s my connection to home. I can go to the internet cafe down the street and talk to you all, or download movies or TV shows I miss from iTunes, I can read news stories about home, or listen to Barrack Obama podcasts.
At the Taj, both when I was on my own and when I was with two friends, one blonde, and one short and brunette, we were asked repeatedly to take pictures. Pictures of us, not of other people and the Taj with their cameras. The Indian tourists wanted pictures of the Western tourists. It was awkward. Weird. And totally fascinating.
Right now I’m sitting on one of the 4th floor verandahs to our flat watching the sun start to set. Only bugs are starting to come out and I’ve not been taking my malaria medication (I should start again, I stopped cause I thought it was giving me headaches) so I should go in soon. CCS owns three flats all in the Hauz Khas (the district of Delhi I’m in) Apartment complex (a campus of 4 and 5 story buildings. “blocks” of buildings are built around a small park, and there are about 9 or 10 separate blocks, connected by narrow roads that run between the blocks. There are no garages, people park their cars on both sides of the “roads” on the sides of the building, making each road wide enough for one car despite being all two way streets. It’s gated, with 4 guarded entrances. Kind of like a middle class gated community, though no middle class in America would ever live in these. The outsides, while not necessarily being in disrepair, are grungy. The concrete is cracking and the roofs of the verandahs are corrugated plastic. I’ll try to attach a picture or two later.) and our flat, 330, is brand new and supposed to be the nicest of the bunch. The only advantages I see are brand new posh couches which aren’t very comfortable, and the two verandahs we have. Nice for sitting out on, and for hanging clothes out to dry on.
As I left the internet cafe for the first time a couple weeks ago, and stepped into the narrow street, I had a complete shock to the system. It was so surprising to find myself back in Delhi after being in such a western atmosphere and talking to so many friends back home. It was late when I left, around 10, and as I walked back towards my apartment block, I saw a lot of minor construction going on. People were digging ditches in the street, just one or two people, a shovel, and a ditch as deep as them and much wider. No cones around them, so anybody not watching where they were going could have easily fallen in. If an Indian had, he would have climbed out, brushed himself off, and said that it was supposed to happen, the will of God, and moved on. He wouldn’t have sued the man digging, or the district government, or the Delhi government, or the Indian government.
There were also others, whole parties of people, doing construction on the sidewalks and in the middle of the street with big machines. Tarring the street. In the middle of the night! There were all kinds of people burning garbage in the gutters. I would assume that part of the reason they do this work at night is because it is cooler, but mostly probably because there is less traffic. And unlike in the U.S., if you put cones out and signs to slow down and watch for workers, there is no way in hell the signs would be observed. Cars would probably actively try to run over the workers, or at the very least they would move into oncoming traffic at full speed to go around the workers. Seriously.
The workers and tarrers and garbage burners were primarily women and children, and judging by the type of work, and also the time they were doing it, I would guess that they were lower caste. Untouchability is illegal in India, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were traditionally from an untouchable caste. No one payed them any attention, just walked around the ditches. Most things in Delhi would be a safety hazard back in the states. Like I said before, the ditches in the middle of the streets and on the curbs have no cones or warning signs around them. And to make matters worse, to get around Delhi, you have to walk in the streets and in the curbs. There are sidewalks. Sometimes. But it would almost make more sense not to have any at all, because where their are sidewalks, they are taken up by all kinds of carts and different sellers, fruit, textiles, whatever. Or there’s a lean-too tent pitched, made out of bamboo and tarps, where whole families live. At night when you pass by you can see a little TV going in a few of them, with the family and all their neighbors gathered around. I have yet to figure out how they get electricity into these tents. During the day the family living in the tent will bring out the wares they sell and set up right there on the sidewalk. The children will sell the magazines, or the fruit, or the woven mats, while the mother cooks and does laundry in the tent and the father will either leave to his poorly paid job sweeping streets, or he will set up a chair and hang a mirror on a tree and shave faces for a few rupees. The mother will also sweep. In the middle of dusty, dirty, Delhi. On a busy, dirty, sidewalk, with people passing all day in the curb and rickshaws and buses and cars and motorcycles drive by at top speed blowing dust and dirt everywhere. She will sweep out her tent. A couple times a day. Sweep the dirt that's in the outside but the inside of the lean-too, to the outside of the lean-too. It’s so ridiculous. It’s an endless job. And it’s even more unbelievable with the tents that are pitched not on the concrete sidewalks, but on the dirt,under the overpasses or on the side of a small street that doesn’t have concrete sidewalks. The sweeping of the dirt on the dirt only creates more dirt.
Anyway, when one does find a bit of clear sidewalk, there is little purpose climbing up on it (and I do mean climbing up, it’s like a foot and a half above the street) because you’ll soon end up back in the street or gutter again to get by, dodging the crazy drivers, the ditches, the cows, the dogs, the various excrement or rotten food. Walking around Delhi is an adventure all by itself.
Now I need to try and make you understand the way people drive in Delhi. All over India, actually. After 5 weeks, I’m still surprised by many of the things I see (and feel, our drivers are good, but they’re still nuts) happen. Auto-rickshaws (powered by a motorcycle engine, three wheels, a seat in back that comfortably fits two. I’ve seen over a dozen people piled in one.), bike rickshaws, motorcycles, bikes, cars, buses, and cows, and the occasional horse, camel, and elephant all share the road. Drivers only follow traffic signals and rules when they feel like it. On a busy street, in the middle of a day, drivers stop at red lights. But even then, a car will come out from the left and cut off the front driver waiting to turn in the right turn lane. They just jump to the head of line if they feel like it. At night, on only moderately busy roads, they don’t pay any attention to red or green lights. At no time to they obey lane laws. They drive on the road where ever they want. Between lanes, straddling lanes, and often in the lanes of oncoming traffic. Speeds are always as fast as possible given the traffic conditions. Think of a four lane highway in the US. Nice and clean and smooth, with cars passing by at a max speed of 70 mph. Now, take away the concrete barrier that’s in place, and replace it with a thinner one, with plenty of breaks in between allowing for frequent u-turn activity. Take the two outer lanes, and fill them with parked cars, people walking, cows sitting and standing, hundreds of flea bitten dogs, ditches, and sellers of just about everything you can imagine. Now take the middle two lanes, scatter liberally with large, deep potholes, and put in hundreds of vehicles speeding in opposite directions and purposely not obeying traffic laws. That is a typical street in Delhi.
Next time:
An essay on Sikhs and their various turban styles as seen in Amrtisar, Punjab.
1st class verse 2nd class train travel.
Detailed list of mosquito bites, including forehead and finger pads.
And other exciting news.
The Great Hedge of India.
If your at all interested in history, or India, it is absolutely fascinating and a very good read.
So thanks. ;-)
And now to the short letter I’ve been writing for a few weeks:
Boy am I glad I brought my computer to India. It has been invaluable at work, and it’s my savior during down time.
At work I’ve used it to create digital movies for my NGO and to digitally archive two decades of events, special programs, and guests that they’ve recorded on VHS.
But more importantly, it’s my connection to home. I can go to the internet cafe down the street and talk to you all, or download movies or TV shows I miss from iTunes, I can read news stories about home, or listen to Barrack Obama podcasts.
At the Taj, both when I was on my own and when I was with two friends, one blonde, and one short and brunette, we were asked repeatedly to take pictures. Pictures of us, not of other people and the Taj with their cameras. The Indian tourists wanted pictures of the Western tourists. It was awkward. Weird. And totally fascinating.
Right now I’m sitting on one of the 4th floor verandahs to our flat watching the sun start to set. Only bugs are starting to come out and I’ve not been taking my malaria medication (I should start again, I stopped cause I thought it was giving me headaches) so I should go in soon. CCS owns three flats all in the Hauz Khas (the district of Delhi I’m in) Apartment complex (a campus of 4 and 5 story buildings. “blocks” of buildings are built around a small park, and there are about 9 or 10 separate blocks, connected by narrow roads that run between the blocks. There are no garages, people park their cars on both sides of the “roads” on the sides of the building, making each road wide enough for one car despite being all two way streets. It’s gated, with 4 guarded entrances. Kind of like a middle class gated community, though no middle class in America would ever live in these. The outsides, while not necessarily being in disrepair, are grungy. The concrete is cracking and the roofs of the verandahs are corrugated plastic. I’ll try to attach a picture or two later.) and our flat, 330, is brand new and supposed to be the nicest of the bunch. The only advantages I see are brand new posh couches which aren’t very comfortable, and the two verandahs we have. Nice for sitting out on, and for hanging clothes out to dry on.
As I left the internet cafe for the first time a couple weeks ago, and stepped into the narrow street, I had a complete shock to the system. It was so surprising to find myself back in Delhi after being in such a western atmosphere and talking to so many friends back home. It was late when I left, around 10, and as I walked back towards my apartment block, I saw a lot of minor construction going on. People were digging ditches in the street, just one or two people, a shovel, and a ditch as deep as them and much wider. No cones around them, so anybody not watching where they were going could have easily fallen in. If an Indian had, he would have climbed out, brushed himself off, and said that it was supposed to happen, the will of God, and moved on. He wouldn’t have sued the man digging, or the district government, or the Delhi government, or the Indian government.
There were also others, whole parties of people, doing construction on the sidewalks and in the middle of the street with big machines. Tarring the street. In the middle of the night! There were all kinds of people burning garbage in the gutters. I would assume that part of the reason they do this work at night is because it is cooler, but mostly probably because there is less traffic. And unlike in the U.S., if you put cones out and signs to slow down and watch for workers, there is no way in hell the signs would be observed. Cars would probably actively try to run over the workers, or at the very least they would move into oncoming traffic at full speed to go around the workers. Seriously.
The workers and tarrers and garbage burners were primarily women and children, and judging by the type of work, and also the time they were doing it, I would guess that they were lower caste. Untouchability is illegal in India, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were traditionally from an untouchable caste. No one payed them any attention, just walked around the ditches. Most things in Delhi would be a safety hazard back in the states. Like I said before, the ditches in the middle of the streets and on the curbs have no cones or warning signs around them. And to make matters worse, to get around Delhi, you have to walk in the streets and in the curbs. There are sidewalks. Sometimes. But it would almost make more sense not to have any at all, because where their are sidewalks, they are taken up by all kinds of carts and different sellers, fruit, textiles, whatever. Or there’s a lean-too tent pitched, made out of bamboo and tarps, where whole families live. At night when you pass by you can see a little TV going in a few of them, with the family and all their neighbors gathered around. I have yet to figure out how they get electricity into these tents. During the day the family living in the tent will bring out the wares they sell and set up right there on the sidewalk. The children will sell the magazines, or the fruit, or the woven mats, while the mother cooks and does laundry in the tent and the father will either leave to his poorly paid job sweeping streets, or he will set up a chair and hang a mirror on a tree and shave faces for a few rupees. The mother will also sweep. In the middle of dusty, dirty, Delhi. On a busy, dirty, sidewalk, with people passing all day in the curb and rickshaws and buses and cars and motorcycles drive by at top speed blowing dust and dirt everywhere. She will sweep out her tent. A couple times a day. Sweep the dirt that's in the outside but the inside of the lean-too, to the outside of the lean-too. It’s so ridiculous. It’s an endless job. And it’s even more unbelievable with the tents that are pitched not on the concrete sidewalks, but on the dirt,under the overpasses or on the side of a small street that doesn’t have concrete sidewalks. The sweeping of the dirt on the dirt only creates more dirt.
Anyway, when one does find a bit of clear sidewalk, there is little purpose climbing up on it (and I do mean climbing up, it’s like a foot and a half above the street) because you’ll soon end up back in the street or gutter again to get by, dodging the crazy drivers, the ditches, the cows, the dogs, the various excrement or rotten food. Walking around Delhi is an adventure all by itself.
Now I need to try and make you understand the way people drive in Delhi. All over India, actually. After 5 weeks, I’m still surprised by many of the things I see (and feel, our drivers are good, but they’re still nuts) happen. Auto-rickshaws (powered by a motorcycle engine, three wheels, a seat in back that comfortably fits two. I’ve seen over a dozen people piled in one.), bike rickshaws, motorcycles, bikes, cars, buses, and cows, and the occasional horse, camel, and elephant all share the road. Drivers only follow traffic signals and rules when they feel like it. On a busy street, in the middle of a day, drivers stop at red lights. But even then, a car will come out from the left and cut off the front driver waiting to turn in the right turn lane. They just jump to the head of line if they feel like it. At night, on only moderately busy roads, they don’t pay any attention to red or green lights. At no time to they obey lane laws. They drive on the road where ever they want. Between lanes, straddling lanes, and often in the lanes of oncoming traffic. Speeds are always as fast as possible given the traffic conditions. Think of a four lane highway in the US. Nice and clean and smooth, with cars passing by at a max speed of 70 mph. Now, take away the concrete barrier that’s in place, and replace it with a thinner one, with plenty of breaks in between allowing for frequent u-turn activity. Take the two outer lanes, and fill them with parked cars, people walking, cows sitting and standing, hundreds of flea bitten dogs, ditches, and sellers of just about everything you can imagine. Now take the middle two lanes, scatter liberally with large, deep potholes, and put in hundreds of vehicles speeding in opposite directions and purposely not obeying traffic laws. That is a typical street in Delhi.
Next time:
An essay on Sikhs and their various turban styles as seen in Amrtisar, Punjab.
1st class verse 2nd class train travel.
Detailed list of mosquito bites, including forehead and finger pads.
And other exciting news.