They are probably the dirtiest streets and alleyways that I've ever walked along. Filthy water pours out of small factories, goats roam free and waste is piled high. I'm just a visitor, for some people the tumbling shacks, where large families sleep cramped in small rooms, this is their home. Others save money by sleeping on the floor of where they work. It can't be healthy given the many toxic 'recycling' processes that take place in these parts. Many do indeed get ill.
But there is another side to this Mumbai shantytown called Dharavi, Asia's biggest slum. Children play cricket and other games with their friends in the streets. They smile and want to shake the hands of Western vistors, but no-one demands any small coins. Overall, everyone seems to be simply enjoying themselves. They are doing what people of their age do in other places around the world, they are just being kids. They lark about, like by putting a baseball cap on a goat, but without being threatening.
Dharavi, home to more than one million people living in over 550 acres, is a strange place. Over the years a city within a city has sprung up, with an array of small stalls, shops and cafes on private land. Barbers cut people's hair at open air counters, Internet cafes have sprung up and there's even a police station. There are schools, many run by NGOs, which pupils attend in pristine uniforms either every morning or evening. The streets are not mapped, yet the postman still has addresses and knows where to deliver the mail each day.
There maybe be 21st innovations like the Internet and you see slum dwellers with mobiles and Blackberries, but many of the cottage-based industries use very simple working processes. Recycling the likes of drinks cans and plastics employs many in single-room factories. They work laboriously in the dingy shacks to sort all of the different composites by hand. In the narrow alleyways the raw materials, like the plastics from computer monitors, sourced from the city and the world are piled high.
Health and safety inspectors from the West would have a heart attack visiting Dharavi. Nothing and no-where is risk assessed. Factory workers are exposed to the toxic fumes of plastics being melted down and have no protection from welding sparks as they produce the machines for crushing cans. Bakeries roll out bread on the dirty floors, women make poppodoms in dusty conditions in the open air. Electrical cables hang down in the alleyways leading to individual homes, they are barely wide enough for a person to pass and sharp stakes stick out.
With these conditions, it's no wonder that diseases like Cholera, Malaria and Typhoid are rife. Living and working like this reminds me of accounts of the middle ages in Britain. Back then people became ill from having their homes so close to dirty industrial processes. Little seems to have changed. The waste products of small-scale tanneries, potteries and the the like that flow into the streets look absolutely filthy.
For the privilege of working in this stench, factory workers get about 120 Rupees (less than £2). Many come to Dharavi from small villages outside Mumbai and send money back to their families. So in the areas with the network of workshops, you see mainly men. As already mentioned, they often sleep on the factory floors so they maximise the amount they send back. This may be a slum, but with every inch of land taken those that have built up property over the years charge rents of around 1500 Rupees (just under £20) a month for a small house. A small amount by Western standards, but it represents a considerable amount of slum take home pay.
In total the 15,000 factories turn over an incredible £700 million a year. Through a series of middle men deals are cut with a number of well-known large international companies. It's for this reason that business leaders have been interested in finding out more about the economic miracle that is Dharavi.
So what of the legality of the slum dwellers? On paper Dharavi is built on private land which was left vacant by speculators waiting for land prices to go up. In reality though the dwellers have rights. In 1995 the Indian Government made records of all those living in Mumbai in their slums and the properties they had erected. All those part of this census can't be evicted without compensation from developers (but any homes built after 1995 can simply be pulled down and residents evicted without compensation).
For the slums built pre 1995, developers need 70% approval from dwellers before they can demolish their homes. If they do get the go-ahead, tower blocks are built for the displaced residents. Developers give several floors free to the evicted slum dwellers, but then profit by selling apartments on other floors on the open market. Bill Clinton and Prince Charles visited the opening of the first such tower block in Dharavi in 1997. Since then many more have sprung up.
But many living in the slums resist the offers of the developers. They say they don't want to live in small flats, high up in the skies where there won't be any provision for their workshops. Other slum dwellers have made considerable sums of money in business (there are rumoured to be millionaires in Dharavi), but like the close-knit community of the shantytown. You get many living in the slums but then traveling to the commercial districts for work each day. Slum dwellers may even be answering the phones in call centres for UK based companies.
As a visitor, I worried slightly about going into a slum, particularly from a security point of view. But I can say that walking around, it felt one of the safest places I've been to in India. You certainly don't get the hawkers that congregate in the tourist areas and hassle you with every kind of crap souvenir that is possible. According to the statistics, crime is much lower in Dharavi than in other parts of Mumbai.
The question remains though, is it responsible tourism to visit somewhere like Dharavi? Aren't visitors just invading residents' privacy? These are questions that I thought long and hard about and did my research. I came across an organisation called Reality Tours and Travel. They give 80% of the profits of the visits to NGOs that operate in the slums. For example, on my trip we popped our heads in at a nursery that is completely funded by the organisation. Next year it will take over an ailing school. And Reality operates a strict 'no photography policy'.
But it is important to do your research. Following the release of the hit film Slumdog Millionaire many tour companies have started slum tours, unfortunately the profits don't always benefit the dwellers. Reality actually spent a month talking to people in the alleyways of Dharavi before it launched its tours four years ago. Ending my visit at a community centre, funded by Reality, I saw where slum dwellers can take free English classes, I think what the organisation does is every bit responsible.
As for Dharavi itself, I think the positive work ethic displayed in the factories offers a model for how India should develop. The wages are low, but the cost of living is also low. What Dharavi has, and what other areas of Mumbai don't have, is community spirit. It would be suicidal for the slums to be totally destroyed and the residents moved to endless tower blocks. Just look at how crime levels in Britain shot up when such blocks were built after World War Two. Council estates became 'no go areas'.
And for me, one of the most humbling things was seeing those living in the Muslim sector making Hindu shrines. Over the last few years people from the two religions have in fact grown closer together. Non-Muslims go to schools run by Muslim charities, for example. This harmony is a rare commodity in other parts of India and neighbouring Pakistan.
So Dharavi and other smaller slums across Asia should be allowed to evolve. Services need to be improved and workers need advice on better protection. But it would be absolutely criminal to totally destroy what has grown so naturally over the years. Let Dharavi be a blueprint for the rest of India.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
A very British city in India
Walking around the Fort and Colaba areas of Mumbai reminds me at times of Britain's capital, London. There's a museum with a resemblance to London's British Museum, the Victoria Terminus train station is modeled on St Pancras and then there are countless fenced off gardens in the centre of roundabouts with fountains. And all the grand public buildings have remarkable similarities to many of the financial buildings in Britain's capital.
Given Mumbai's recent history none of this is at all surprising. By its previous name of Bombay, this was Britain's first colony proper in India (previously Britain had just had trading posts and small factories.) Bombay would different. The British took possession in 1665 of the seven islands which today make up the city. Just a few years later they were leased to the East India Company for £10 per year. Bombay flourished as a trading port and such was the strategic importance for the Company that a fort was built in the 1700s. From the opening of the Suez canal in 1869, Bombay became the principal gateway to the subcontinent.
Nowadays, the defence walls that surrounded the city survive only in the district name Fort. The actual fort was pulled down as the grand city that greets visitors today was built in the second half of the 1800s. It's as well-constructed as any of the great Victorian cities in places like Manchester and London. And it's also a real pleasure to walk around, so unlike many cities in India.
St Thomas Cathedral is the oldest British building (construction took place from 1672 to 1718), in Mumbai. Walking inside the white-washed building, you read memorial after memorial commemorating those Britons that worked for the East India Company. It doesn't make comfortable reading for post-colonial India as the language used talks about individuals 'brave' work in the 'Conquest' of the subcontinent. You also read had lives were so intertwined with Britain, with people living their lives in places like Birmingham and Bristol, then coming out to India.
I also love the extravagance of aformentioned Victoria Terminus, today Asia's busiest railway station. The cathedral-like Gothic building features an array of towers, turrets and spires. It has to be one of the grandest stations in the world. Opened in 1887, it is now deservedably a World Heritage site and is undergoing much needed renovation work.
Then there's the Oval Maiden, which is surrounded by more grand Victorian buildings like the High Court and the University. For the best of the action look to the green grass of the Oval itself, it's here where impromtu cricket matches crop up. The British brought cricket to India and today it's the country's national sport. IPL cricket matches are big events and wherever you go, people ask you if you like cricket.
For Mumbai's buildings and monuments from the period of British rule, perhaps the most popular is the Gateway to India. Built to commemorate the visit to India of King George V in 1911, it was completed in 1924. It's a place today where tourists and local alike tend to congregate. Security is therefore tight and you are frisked as you get up close to it. This was the place where the last British troops left India after independence in 1948. What a fitting link between Mumbai's colonial past and its independent future.
Given Mumbai's recent history none of this is at all surprising. By its previous name of Bombay, this was Britain's first colony proper in India (previously Britain had just had trading posts and small factories.) Bombay would different. The British took possession in 1665 of the seven islands which today make up the city. Just a few years later they were leased to the East India Company for £10 per year. Bombay flourished as a trading port and such was the strategic importance for the Company that a fort was built in the 1700s. From the opening of the Suez canal in 1869, Bombay became the principal gateway to the subcontinent.
Nowadays, the defence walls that surrounded the city survive only in the district name Fort. The actual fort was pulled down as the grand city that greets visitors today was built in the second half of the 1800s. It's as well-constructed as any of the great Victorian cities in places like Manchester and London. And it's also a real pleasure to walk around, so unlike many cities in India.
St Thomas Cathedral is the oldest British building (construction took place from 1672 to 1718), in Mumbai. Walking inside the white-washed building, you read memorial after memorial commemorating those Britons that worked for the East India Company. It doesn't make comfortable reading for post-colonial India as the language used talks about individuals 'brave' work in the 'Conquest' of the subcontinent. You also read had lives were so intertwined with Britain, with people living their lives in places like Birmingham and Bristol, then coming out to India.
I also love the extravagance of aformentioned Victoria Terminus, today Asia's busiest railway station. The cathedral-like Gothic building features an array of towers, turrets and spires. It has to be one of the grandest stations in the world. Opened in 1887, it is now deservedably a World Heritage site and is undergoing much needed renovation work.
Then there's the Oval Maiden, which is surrounded by more grand Victorian buildings like the High Court and the University. For the best of the action look to the green grass of the Oval itself, it's here where impromtu cricket matches crop up. The British brought cricket to India and today it's the country's national sport. IPL cricket matches are big events and wherever you go, people ask you if you like cricket.
For Mumbai's buildings and monuments from the period of British rule, perhaps the most popular is the Gateway to India. Built to commemorate the visit to India of King George V in 1911, it was completed in 1924. It's a place today where tourists and local alike tend to congregate. Security is therefore tight and you are frisked as you get up close to it. This was the place where the last British troops left India after independence in 1948. What a fitting link between Mumbai's colonial past and its independent future.
Save the spice, people just want cheap flight tickets
Air India has been losing a lot of money for some time now. Even merging with Indian Airlines, a fellow state owned carrier, has not been able to improve performance. Many analysts blame the rise of no frills airlines like Kingfisher, Spice Jet and Jet Lite. Advertising hoardings around the country for such organisations claim you can fly for little more than the cost of a train ticket (which is already extremely cheap).
But I know the real flaw of Air India is that its dishing out too many curries. No matter how short the flight, they seem to stick a spicy dish or two in front of you. There is no need for a curry, rice and chocolate pudding on a 45 minute from Mumbai to Goa, for example. And when I flew a few days earlier from Delhi to Goa I ended up getting two meals (they must has considered it two flights because of a touchdown in Mumbai en route). All totally unnecessary.
Delivering hot food on such short flights also creates hysterical scenes in the cabin. The air stewardesses have to almost throw the meals at passengers as they race down the plane with the trays. They then do another trip to pour a cup of coffee. Then they have to clear it all away again. And if there's a bit of turbulance in the middle of proceedings, they even need to check that everyone has fastened their seatbelts.
Even the ultra staid and traditional British Airways has done away with food on short flights to compete in price with the likes of easyjet. Perhaps Air India should do the same to save on costs. But you'd hope they know their customers. It maybe be that there would be more drama (than delivering the food) in the cabin from complaining passengers. Personally I'd just settle for poppodom!
But I know the real flaw of Air India is that its dishing out too many curries. No matter how short the flight, they seem to stick a spicy dish or two in front of you. There is no need for a curry, rice and chocolate pudding on a 45 minute from Mumbai to Goa, for example. And when I flew a few days earlier from Delhi to Goa I ended up getting two meals (they must has considered it two flights because of a touchdown in Mumbai en route). All totally unnecessary.
Delivering hot food on such short flights also creates hysterical scenes in the cabin. The air stewardesses have to almost throw the meals at passengers as they race down the plane with the trays. They then do another trip to pour a cup of coffee. Then they have to clear it all away again. And if there's a bit of turbulance in the middle of proceedings, they even need to check that everyone has fastened their seatbelts.
Even the ultra staid and traditional British Airways has done away with food on short flights to compete in price with the likes of easyjet. Perhaps Air India should do the same to save on costs. But you'd hope they know their customers. It maybe be that there would be more drama (than delivering the food) in the cabin from complaining passengers. Personally I'd just settle for poppodom!
This could almost be Blackpool
If it wasn't for the hot weather and blue sky, this could be a British seaside report like Blackpool. Europeans on package holidays hang out at beach shacks named 'Weather Spoons', 'Sam's Bar' and the like. They go straight for the full English breakfasts on the menu, washed down with a nice chilled beer. Nearby at endless rows of shops you can buy the usual seaside resort tat.
But before you start thinking I'm on the Spanish Costas, I will tell you I'm in Goa in India. Indians work in the bars and restaurants and there are plenty of Indian food options on the menus, but it's the 'Continental' options that everyone seems to be ordering. True, in Goa there are still some unspoiled beaches on the coast, but here on the stretch that features the resorts of Baga, Calangute and Candolim (which seem to merge into each other) it's far from quiet.
Despite all the British brashness, I'm quiet enjoying here, especially with the typical 'Goan' touches. For example, it's quiet amusing (from the relative safety of beachside shacks!) seeing small herds of cows gathering next to Europeans on the sun beds. You also have ringside seats for the various entertainment features that pop up in different spots on the sands – like trapeze artists walking the tightrope. In the evening many of the beach shack bars put on BBQs and firework displays.
Many Indians also come on holiday here (there's a particular area in the Baga, Calangute and Candolim stretch that's currently pretty much exclusively given over to domestic tourists – they've got some cheap deals given it's nearing the end of the season). But the majority of Indians that you see provide the services for the tourists. Many live in terrible conditions in very primitive 'camps', often right next to luxury tourist resorts. Finding a gap in the high fence, I can see one such abode – home to the locals in little more than shacks.
It just goes to show that not everyone around here has money to spend on luxuries like beer and pizzas. You have people watching Premiership football in loud pubs alongside Indians living in far more simple life, where pigs roam the muddy lanes.
The Brits and Germans dominate in these parts, but following the area's history would logically make you think it should be mostly Portuguese on holiday. For from the 1500s to 1961 Goa was administered by Lisbon. There is a brutal story to tell here, as the local population was murdered in in droves and Hindu heritage destroyed in the name of Christianity.
Save for the odd white-washed Catholic church on the coast and colonial fort, you need to travel inland to find the Portuguese influences. As you pass the villages you witness lovely European-style villas that look like they've been imported straight from the Algarve.
The best examples of Portuguese history can be found in what is now termed Old Goa, a World Heritage Site and the original colonial capital. Here visitors are greeted by an abundance of churches, including Asia's largest church, Se cathedral – at over 76m long and 55m wide. Just across the road there's the equally grand Basilica of Bom Jesus which contains the tomb and mortal remains of St Francis Xavier, the so-called Apostle of the Indies.
Christianity was central to the colonisation of Goa by Portugal. Afonso de Aluquque who established early forts (he first attacked Goa in 1510) had a real hatred for Muslims. After some early battles, as the second Viceroy he ordered for Muslims to be killed. Later on the Portuguese became even less tolerant – Hindu temples were destroyed, only the baptised could retain land and heretics were burned at the stake.
Of course, the Portuguese had also come for Goa's spices – they had wanted to find a sea route to compete with the Arab's overland monopoly in spices for some time. It was profits from the spice levies that financed the building boom in Old Goa (and also the many schools and hospitals that were built by missionaries).
Today, despite being a major tourist draw there is little to see of Old Goa apart from the churches and a grand archway called the Viceroy's arch – erected by Vasco de Gama's grandson in 1597. One inscription shows a European women wielding a sword at an Indian, showing who was boss at the time. But apart from these imposing structures you just have to imagine the grand houses that are where grassy fields now stand. The population was wiped out by Cholera epidemics from the 1600s and the wealthy moved to the current capital of Goa, Panjim (it officially became the capital in 1845, although many moved much earlier than that.)
European rivals like Britain and the Dutch became more powerful from the end of the 1500s, but Portugal held onto to Goa (although it did require concessions like giving the British free access to the ports). Portugal crushed uprisings calling for independence. But then in 1961 India sent the military in and captured Goa.
Soon the tourist trade in Goa was born, first with the hippies in the 1960s (tourist attractions in their own right, considered many) and later travelers searching for a little more luxury. It's the Brits and other Europeans that holiday here today – but as the east becomes more powerful at the expense of the west, who knows who the holidaymakers of tomorrow will be?
But before you start thinking I'm on the Spanish Costas, I will tell you I'm in Goa in India. Indians work in the bars and restaurants and there are plenty of Indian food options on the menus, but it's the 'Continental' options that everyone seems to be ordering. True, in Goa there are still some unspoiled beaches on the coast, but here on the stretch that features the resorts of Baga, Calangute and Candolim (which seem to merge into each other) it's far from quiet.
Despite all the British brashness, I'm quiet enjoying here, especially with the typical 'Goan' touches. For example, it's quiet amusing (from the relative safety of beachside shacks!) seeing small herds of cows gathering next to Europeans on the sun beds. You also have ringside seats for the various entertainment features that pop up in different spots on the sands – like trapeze artists walking the tightrope. In the evening many of the beach shack bars put on BBQs and firework displays.
Many Indians also come on holiday here (there's a particular area in the Baga, Calangute and Candolim stretch that's currently pretty much exclusively given over to domestic tourists – they've got some cheap deals given it's nearing the end of the season). But the majority of Indians that you see provide the services for the tourists. Many live in terrible conditions in very primitive 'camps', often right next to luxury tourist resorts. Finding a gap in the high fence, I can see one such abode – home to the locals in little more than shacks.
It just goes to show that not everyone around here has money to spend on luxuries like beer and pizzas. You have people watching Premiership football in loud pubs alongside Indians living in far more simple life, where pigs roam the muddy lanes.
The Brits and Germans dominate in these parts, but following the area's history would logically make you think it should be mostly Portuguese on holiday. For from the 1500s to 1961 Goa was administered by Lisbon. There is a brutal story to tell here, as the local population was murdered in in droves and Hindu heritage destroyed in the name of Christianity.
Save for the odd white-washed Catholic church on the coast and colonial fort, you need to travel inland to find the Portuguese influences. As you pass the villages you witness lovely European-style villas that look like they've been imported straight from the Algarve.
The best examples of Portuguese history can be found in what is now termed Old Goa, a World Heritage Site and the original colonial capital. Here visitors are greeted by an abundance of churches, including Asia's largest church, Se cathedral – at over 76m long and 55m wide. Just across the road there's the equally grand Basilica of Bom Jesus which contains the tomb and mortal remains of St Francis Xavier, the so-called Apostle of the Indies.
Christianity was central to the colonisation of Goa by Portugal. Afonso de Aluquque who established early forts (he first attacked Goa in 1510) had a real hatred for Muslims. After some early battles, as the second Viceroy he ordered for Muslims to be killed. Later on the Portuguese became even less tolerant – Hindu temples were destroyed, only the baptised could retain land and heretics were burned at the stake.
Of course, the Portuguese had also come for Goa's spices – they had wanted to find a sea route to compete with the Arab's overland monopoly in spices for some time. It was profits from the spice levies that financed the building boom in Old Goa (and also the many schools and hospitals that were built by missionaries).
Today, despite being a major tourist draw there is little to see of Old Goa apart from the churches and a grand archway called the Viceroy's arch – erected by Vasco de Gama's grandson in 1597. One inscription shows a European women wielding a sword at an Indian, showing who was boss at the time. But apart from these imposing structures you just have to imagine the grand houses that are where grassy fields now stand. The population was wiped out by Cholera epidemics from the 1600s and the wealthy moved to the current capital of Goa, Panjim (it officially became the capital in 1845, although many moved much earlier than that.)
European rivals like Britain and the Dutch became more powerful from the end of the 1500s, but Portugal held onto to Goa (although it did require concessions like giving the British free access to the ports). Portugal crushed uprisings calling for independence. But then in 1961 India sent the military in and captured Goa.
Soon the tourist trade in Goa was born, first with the hippies in the 1960s (tourist attractions in their own right, considered many) and later travelers searching for a little more luxury. It's the Brits and other Europeans that holiday here today – but as the east becomes more powerful at the expense of the west, who knows who the holidaymakers of tomorrow will be?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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