Thursday, December 22, 2011

Interstate Highways: India vs. USA



As a country, India appears to be in a constant state of construction and destruction.  Shells of buildings litter the landscape, seemingly tossed aside before completion to rot with the millions of plastic bottles, foil potato-chip wrappers and moldy coconut husks that even the wild pigs won't eat.  Today, however, we bore witness to a new initiative that actually seems to be not only a work in progress, but also a work of art:  The SuperHighway.

Stretching (in a way) from various other roads that connect Mumbai to Bangalore, SuperHighway #13, at present, is still mostly two and a half lanes (one and a quarter for each direction), criss-crossing over itself as various sections are completed.  The half-lane is very important, as it allows a little breathing room for the cars, motorcycles and higher-speed rickshaws that want to pass not only each other but a never-ending stream of massive construction vehicles, mega-trucks, tractors, busses and, on occasion, a cow or two.   

Today we had the privilege of traversing nearly 200 miles of this special road round-trip between Hospet and Badami.  I couldn't help but notice a few of the differences between how highways work in the USA and here in India, beyond the obvious of driving on the left side of the road.

1) In India there are no lanes.  Lanes would require paint, and paint is expensive. 
2) In India there are no shoulders.  Sometimes there's dirt; sometimes fields. Or a river.
3) In India there are no exits or on-ramps.  You get on and off wherever you want, whether there's a road there or not.  
4) In India there are no street signs, directions or mile markers.
5) In India there are no speed limits.
6) In India there are no troopers to enforce any infractions and there are no set traffic rules to enforce.
7) In India, our driver tells us, there are very, very few accidents. 
8) In India the service stations do not have snacks or bathrooms--just petrol and oil.
9) In India there are no rest stops.  Stop and do your business in a field, if you gotta.  It's okay to park your vehicle on the road if there's no shoulder.  Just be quick.  
10) In India the SuperHighway has occasional speed bumps.  These are not marked, but everyone seems to know where they are and they slow down accordingly.  Sometimes the speed bumps are actually three speed bumps in a row and take some special skill and a little time to traverse successfully if one wants to keep one's muffler. 
11) In India the one-kilometer of visual-site rule before passing another vehicle does not apply.  You need only the space of the truck you're trying to pass, times three (if even).  If you cannot pass fully, you simply slow down and go back into your lane and hope the car behind you or the truck next to you slows down or speeds up to let you in before you're bacon.  If he doesn't let you in then you stop and hope the oncoming car does as well until the issue is resolved.  This all happens in the space of two-to-four seconds. 
12) In India we didn't see a single woman driver on the SuperHighway.
13) In India they don't mow the grass on the side of the road.  They wait until it's dry and then they burn it. 
14) In India there are no reflectors or street lamps for night-time driving. 
15) In India the road can end spontaneously due to construction, without warning signs, and sometimes without barriers.  Move to the other side by following the car in front of you.  If you are passing the car in front of you, which is likely, try not to drive off the newly nonexistent road.
16) In India you honk your horn when you are passing, and when you are not passing, when you want to pass, and when you have completed your pass.  There is not a single moment when you should not be honking your horn.  If you require extra special attention because there isn't time to pass and you're staring at the grill of an oncoming 20-ton Tata Truck you may flick your lights fanatically and ask the God Of Your Choice for some help.  We used Ganesh.  Frequently.
17) In India everyone respects each other's driving.  No one gets angry or frustrated if someone passes, and everyone lets everyone in when necessary (which means always).  In India no one flips anyone else off.
18) There are no vehicles moving on the SuperHighway in India with less than a full-load of product or people.  There are no single-person vehicles.  Even the motorcycles have at least three people on them, and sometimes up to five. 
19) On India's SuperHighway there is no road kill, which is astonishing considering the vast number of cows, dogs, goats, pigs and monkeys that run amok on the regular streets.  It is possible that the road kill may be removed instantly and cremated (or eaten).  It's impossible to know for sure, but we saw no carnage and our driver didn't know what we were talking about when we asked.  
20) In India, traveling a total of 200 miles on the SuperHighway took 7.5 hours. 

It remains to be seen if the Indian Highway construction project we witnessed will be completed.  The goal, we were told, is 3-10 years, or so.  The one area where the USA and India seem to correlate is in the building process:  we saw no less than 50 people at each work-site, but only a handful were doing any actual work.  The rest were standing around.

Monday, December 5, 2011

I'm in India

First thought: Oh My God I'm in India. 

Second thought:  Hey, this airport is nice!  Apparently it has been rated as fourth best in the entire world, though I always wonder who's doing the ratings.  Still, there are posters everywhere stating "We are fourth best!" and who would say that if it wasn't true?

We landed in New Delhi after a few days in London wondering if we could survive the expense of merely breathing.  Did you know a single ride on the London Underground is US$7.50?  Even with special day-passes that allowed us full access to the subways and busses it cost US$100 for two of us to get around for four days.  Compare that with today's lunch in the Tibetan district of Delhi: six of us shared soups, 32 large and varied dumplings, one of the best crispy honey-chicken dishes I've ever met, copious veggie fried rice, and ten beverages.  The total including the tip: $3 a head.   Of course, familiar Western items are not quite as easy to find and cost considerably more: our gracious American hosts paid $80 for their Thanksgiving turkey.  Fortunately it was "pre-killed"--something that needs to be specified.

New Delhi is a complex maze of fabulous wealth, unconscionable poverty, gargantuan pristine buildings alongside sprawling condemnable slums.  There's air, water, noise and nerve pollution that redefines the scales. Our residence at the US Embassy runs four air-purifiers and six fans 24-7 and still the maids have to dust twice a day to keep the grime from accumulating on the dining room table.  Yes, it is really THAT BAD.  An estimated 18 million people are burning coal, dung and plastic bottles to keep warm this time of year, though the temperature is comparable with Jacksonville.

In Delhi, whatever your mind conjures when considering a task, event or destination, the reality contrasts.  For example, we took a private tour through the city's central spice market, the main distribution center for the myriad cooking spices that make Indian food so distinctive.  We were told it was set inside an old, ornate palace dating back a few hundred years, and we would bear witness to hundreds of merchants moving shipments of the special delicacies.  Close your eyes and picture it based on that description: the mind imagines a mini-Taj Mahal-type structure filled with stalls holding crates of fresh chili peppers, vanilla beans, assorted elements for curries, and trucks moving in and out to send the parcels to the restaurant purveyors throughout the region.

Now click to my other blog (http://airscapes.blogspot.com) to see the reality of the Indian Spice Market:

Hundreds of people living and working in filthy squalor, maneuvering between rickety wiring, multifarious levels and steps that would send Escher's pen spinning, stray dogs amass, feces or all sorts, soapy morning bathing waters running down the walls, people squatting to eat plates of fresh-cooked food heated on smelly kerosene burners, frightening piles of rotting garbage (sometimes smoldering) and yesterday's clothes hanging in the murky air to dry in the morning sun.   Loads are pushed and carried on carts and bicycles.  There are no trucks.  There are no computers.  There is no plumbing.  There are few lights.  Orders are tracked in notebooks with single sheets of overused carbon paper.  This is not a Wal-Mart Distribution Center, and yet, somehow, perhaps miraculously, the spices come in and the spices go out--and this is epicenter of the industry.

On to Rishikesh....