Wednesday, March 31, 2010

How many assistants to serve a chocolate cake?

How many people does it take to sell a piece of chocolate cake? That was the question I asked myself as I was ushered from counter to counter at an upmarket patessierie in the centre of New Delhi. Walking into a shop filled with wealthy Indians and expats buying tasty desserts and other delacies, one assistant put my selection into a box while another prepared a receipt on the computer. Then, while a third assistant was called to carry the cake to the collection desk, I was ushered to pay at the cash desk. I handed in my receipt to the assistant (number four) along with the equivalent of 35p and a new receipt was printed for me. Finally assistant number five handed me my cake at the collection desk.
If all this seems very labour intensive, then you will have a good chuckle travelling around India. The metro in Delhi has an employee manning every door of every carriage of the Metro. Restaurants and bars often have so many waiters that they out number customers, even when busy. I've laughed when, on more than one occasion, I've had one waiter handed me my food while another checks each item off against the order slip. Lurking very close behind the pair, the manager asks if everything is okay. Before I'd even had a chance to have a bite of the meal.
And then of course there are the hotels. Even the lowest quality establishments have an army of porters ready to carry your bags 24-hours a day. I checked into a two star hotel in Delhi and three people competed to carry my suitcase. Two door staff had opened the doors for me. And another three people seemed to have an important role in the process of checking in. Once in my room, I was introduced to two different people who could provide room service. Who knows how many people were in the kitchen. All this for a hotel with just 26 rooms!
I'm now staying in a 3* hotel that has a lift attendant. What a fun job that must be riding up and down from floor to floor each day. You wouldn't get that sort of service at a similar establishment back home.
All this bureaucracy and complicated procedures can only be blamed on the British. They made the act of keeping detailed records and getting every action double counter signed part of everyday life. Central to the Industrial Revolution was that every worker had a particular role to play in the production process. This theory of not deviating from jobs was then just transferred to the service sector.
But as the West makes many huge numbers of job cuts, more and more people are being forced to multiskill. What's more, you can certainly go into some businesses in Britain today and struggle to find someone to help you. That rarely happens in India, where there is a (sometimes friendly) face ready to take you along a process – no matter what it is.
So why the difference between India and the West? Given the current economic climate you could hardly say that Britain is more competitive because it less labour intensive. On the other hand, India is on course to be ahead of America in terms of GDP output by 2030. The difference then is that labour in India is so much cheaper than the UK. One room service attendant told me he earned the equivalent of less than £200 a month (long days, with only 4 days off out of 30).
Management have this idea that if they've got more people vying for food and drink orders, then there's more chance of bringing those orders in. Labour is cheap and wages are topped up by guests tipping. And they hope that with a big workforce there is a good chance of improving the customer's experience. That may be true, but sometimes rather than being able to attend to every need it just creates chaos.
In recent days I've also spoken to some people who work outside bars, enticing customers in. They have a deal with bar owners in which they can work at their establishments for next to nothing, but they can sell their own bag of 'souvenirs'. Places like Goa attract northern Indians who bring bag fulls of stone carvings. They spend the winter selling to tourists, then when the resorts shut down in the summer they return to their villages to make batches of the goods ready for the next year.
But to answer that chocolate cake question – five people served me (seven if you include the two door staff). It took a little longer to get served than at my local Greggs, but it tasted about a million times better so I'm not complaining.

The shackles of a colonial past

The Imperial Hotel in Delhi is a calm oasis away from the hustle and bustle of the busy bazaars. After passing through three security check points, you reach a glistening cream and gold themed lobby laden with chandeliers. Well-dressed guests wait for their private drivers in the lounge areas while others enjoy a cocktail in the '1911' bar (named after the date New Delhi was announced as British India's capital – although construction of the city was not complete until 1931.)
Built in 1933, the Art Deco Imperial provides a link with Delhi's colonial past. The corridors form a massive art gallery, with painting after painting showing British supremacy. They capture the pomp and circumstance of the Viceroy's receptions, others show the British troops crushing the Indians in the 1857 mutiny. Locals that are pictured are reduced to subordinate roles.
Yet, there are no paintings in the Imperial that capture India winning independence in 1947. From the depicted images and the way the hotel provides a totally Western service for its guests, you could be led to believe that British Raj was still in existence. That maybe explains the high security getting into the complex – this, after all, would be a target for anyone wanting to attack India's colonial past.
Outside the comforts of the hotel things are much more hectic. For example, the bartering in the bazaars is about as far from the British shopping experience as you will find. But look around and the clues to British rule can still be seen in New Delhi. The heart of the city is a large area called Connaught Place, here Robert Tor Russel designed in 1932 an imitation of the grand Royal Crescent in Bath. The buildings may now be crumbling through lack of maintenance, but the symbol of British mock Georgian architecture is here. Away from the crazy drivers, Central Park is a lovely calm place to relax for a few hours. This also couldn't be more British, with a band stand and iron railings around the lawns similar to those you find in London parks.
This is the area to head for the best shops and Western brand names. Its where the expats hang out alongside wealthy, well to do Indians. The impoverished Delhi suburbs may only be a few miles away, but the feel of the place still has echoes of London many, many miles away. There is clearly more of India for the independence movement to remove from the shackles of the colonial past.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Don't destory the Delhi chaos

Delhi, like other large cities across, is a dictionary definition for chaos. Car drivers ignore any rules of the road there are and compete with rickshaws and delivery wagons to fight their way through the city. They criss cross lanes of busy traffic as they try to squeeze past parked cars. But it's not easy as vehicles are double, perhaps triple, parked at a variety of angles – both on the road and the pavement (or whatever is left of a pavement anyway).
Traffic policemen are on hand to direct the show, but they just add to the confusion – waving through diffrent vehicles at the same time. The result: gridlock. Horns are sounded but no-one moves. You can easily envisage being stuck in jams in narrow streets for hours.
And into this chaos, pedestrians and cyclists must somehow keep hold of their lives. It's not easy. If you are following the lead of the locals, you just make a run for it – even if that means dashing across six lanes of deathly traffic.
The Delhi authorities want to restore some normality to proceedings and believe they have found the culprit: the autorickshaw. Painted in distinctive yellow and green colours, they have three wheels and are much smaller than a car but frequently carry up to 10 passengers, some clinging onto the side, of course. Yet as I write this there is outrage that Delhi's chief minister wants them phased out within five years. Claims that they are uncomfortable, pollute the environment and that drivers harass passengers have not gone down well. Many of the estimated 80,000 autorickshaw owners live in slum conditions and worry about their own futures if they are banned. They see themselves as scapegoats for the problems associated with a three fold increase in traffic in 15 years.
Having travelled on autorickshaws in Delhi and in other big cities, I think an important part of Indian culture would be lost if they completely disappeared. Yes, by weaving in and out of the traffic, they contribute to the chaos on the roads. But they also add a lot, especially for overseas visitors. It would be a shame if this holiday highlight was banned. Keep the autorickshaws but work harder to boost other forms of transport.