Connecting the dots
I had a long and productive meeting with an NGO that specializes in architectural accessibility. They are a small organization an are just getting the ball rolling in regard to providing engineers, architects and developers feedback on how their designs comply with international accessibility guidelines.
The meeting was a typical 4 hour marathon session with multiple cups of chai and plates of biscuits. I learned a great deal more about india's access nightmare. The first of which is that my friends in the NGO did all their work for free. Although there is a law mandating access, there is no actual enforcement of it. As such, projects have no reason to comply with a law that will never be enforced.
The few projects they've worked on have included access facilities "just for the fun of it." These amenities provided out of the kindness of the project's hearts have been a positive step in increasing awareness of the needs of the disabled, but have done surprisingly little in terms of actually increasing their independence.
For example, while a wheelchair user can independently get to any station while they are in the system, they can't make it to the elevator door. The shiny new elevators on the new Metro system that I previously spoke so highly of cannot be independently accessed by someone from the street level. They either had a nice concrete ramp that fed down to a 12 inch curb, or had a ramp that was obstructed by metal barrier.
The second nightmare access issue is that there are no set standards for accessibility. There is just vague language that requires architects to make the buildings they design "accessible." There are no definitions of accessible, so they leave it up to the designer which groups of people with disabilities will be allowed to utilize their designs.
Delhi is creating a series of accessible islands. There is no integration with the city streets and no way for users to connect the dots between isolated access zones. You have to give them credit for moving things forward, but you have to question the roadmap that they are following.
Following my great meeting, I left sweltering Delhi for the hill station of Mussorie. Finally, I've met up with M, to join her on the honeymoon that she started several months ago (without me). I'm very happy to see her. I'm elated. I'm dizzy and giddy and out of breath... I may be experiencing some sort of elevation sickness. But we'll call it "love" for now. Mussorie is beautiful and much more pleasant in July than in February. I start Hindi classes tomorrow.
It will be nice to gain a better handle on the culture and be able to interview more people about accessibility. We'll see how much my mind is able to soak up in the short week I've got left.
7/30/06
7/27/06
I'm on a ramp to nowhere
I'm on a ramp to nowhere
As I'm prone to do, I spent yesterday geeking out over Delhi's many public transportation opportunities. I rode the Metro to the end of the line and back to peruse the various stations. I was prepared to act like a dumb tourist and pretend that I got off at the wrong stop if need be, but there was no need.
On my joyride, I saw many groups of indians crammed into elevators. I saw many people following the detectable warning tactile guides from the Metro entrance to the boarding platforms. I saw many people reading the station and destination information as it flashed over the LED display screens simultaneously in hindi (amber) and english (green). I saw seating and space on the vehicles reserved for the "old and physically challenged." I did not however, see ANY people with disabilities.
The system is cheap (6 to 12 rupies per ride depending on the destination) so as far as I could tell it was a mixed demographic. People from different classes, religions, occupations and economic stratas peacefully sitting together in air-conditioned, space-aged comfort.
While I'm impressed, I know that countless people have been displaced to make way for Metro stations and rail rights of way. The DMRC is not as huge an entity as the Indian Railways Corporation, but from what I've read on my Delhi Urban Planning mailing list it is equally ruthless in commandeering real estate. It is the specialty of governments everywhere, but indian beaurocracies are hyper-efficient at steamrolling the rights* and needs of the little guy. You see and hear about this happening all the time - from urban Mall developers erasing slum villages to hydroelectric facilities submerging whole rural indigenous communities.
I've also been relying on the Delhi bus much more often than in previous travels. I pay 7 rupies for a 40 minute to hour and a half ride from where I stay to the approximate heart of the city. The catch is that I have to stand the whole way and the vehicle is completely full. It is unfortunate, as the buses are designed for people much shorter than I, so I can only see the street surface and adjacent traffic not the actual surroundings as we make our way into the citay.
Last night I was surrounded by 6 women - each one 4 feet tall and wrapped in a brilliantly colored sari. They fit the profile of many of the slum dwellers and street folks that work intersections in groups for alms. They usually have a sleeping (or wailing) child or two in tow. I used to think that they were bangladeshis because of the darkeness of their skin, but they could be from any rural district. When you see them on the streets, they give you the eye, then attach themselves to your vehicle while gesturing to their mouths and chanting "Baby hungry! Baby hungry! Chapatti! Chapatti!"
On the bus, they were without children. Other riders warily watched as they encircled me. Without my knowledge or permission, they opened up my backpack and dug around. All the while the bus conductor tried to convince them to pay their fare. Luckily I wasn't holding anything of value in my bag or in my pockets. They realized I was of no value and immediately set their saris dragging through the sea of people in the aisle and hanging from the ceiling bars to the front of the bus where they hopped off.
With high drama like this to entertain me, how could I ever think of taking the autorickshaw again?
* Of course the peoples of downtroden and backward castes have no rights.
As I'm prone to do, I spent yesterday geeking out over Delhi's many public transportation opportunities. I rode the Metro to the end of the line and back to peruse the various stations. I was prepared to act like a dumb tourist and pretend that I got off at the wrong stop if need be, but there was no need.
On my joyride, I saw many groups of indians crammed into elevators. I saw many people following the detectable warning tactile guides from the Metro entrance to the boarding platforms. I saw many people reading the station and destination information as it flashed over the LED display screens simultaneously in hindi (amber) and english (green). I saw seating and space on the vehicles reserved for the "old and physically challenged." I did not however, see ANY people with disabilities.
The system is cheap (6 to 12 rupies per ride depending on the destination) so as far as I could tell it was a mixed demographic. People from different classes, religions, occupations and economic stratas peacefully sitting together in air-conditioned, space-aged comfort.
While I'm impressed, I know that countless people have been displaced to make way for Metro stations and rail rights of way. The DMRC is not as huge an entity as the Indian Railways Corporation, but from what I've read on my Delhi Urban Planning mailing list it is equally ruthless in commandeering real estate. It is the specialty of governments everywhere, but indian beaurocracies are hyper-efficient at steamrolling the rights* and needs of the little guy. You see and hear about this happening all the time - from urban Mall developers erasing slum villages to hydroelectric facilities submerging whole rural indigenous communities.
I've also been relying on the Delhi bus much more often than in previous travels. I pay 7 rupies for a 40 minute to hour and a half ride from where I stay to the approximate heart of the city. The catch is that I have to stand the whole way and the vehicle is completely full. It is unfortunate, as the buses are designed for people much shorter than I, so I can only see the street surface and adjacent traffic not the actual surroundings as we make our way into the citay.
Last night I was surrounded by 6 women - each one 4 feet tall and wrapped in a brilliantly colored sari. They fit the profile of many of the slum dwellers and street folks that work intersections in groups for alms. They usually have a sleeping (or wailing) child or two in tow. I used to think that they were bangladeshis because of the darkeness of their skin, but they could be from any rural district. When you see them on the streets, they give you the eye, then attach themselves to your vehicle while gesturing to their mouths and chanting "Baby hungry! Baby hungry! Chapatti! Chapatti!"
On the bus, they were without children. Other riders warily watched as they encircled me. Without my knowledge or permission, they opened up my backpack and dug around. All the while the bus conductor tried to convince them to pay their fare. Luckily I wasn't holding anything of value in my bag or in my pockets. They realized I was of no value and immediately set their saris dragging through the sea of people in the aisle and hanging from the ceiling bars to the front of the bus where they hopped off.
With high drama like this to entertain me, how could I ever think of taking the autorickshaw again?
* Of course the peoples of downtroden and backward castes have no rights.
7/26/06
Ah... the smell of rain
The smell of rain is a little different in Delhi. It kills most of the fumes and dust. As a result it smells less. Instead of being openly assaulted, you have to sneak up on scents. Or stay inside.
Nonetheless, I need an umbrella. I left mine at the exurban enclave of patparganj. I am staying with a sweet couple that we met last time we were here. I had asked the man (a retired garmet maker) if the monsoon was over, and I thought that he had said yes, but his english is about as good as my hindi. So I may have to bargain for a new one.
It is odd not to experience India with M. I will meet her on Saturday (If Ganesha grants me the strength to make the 6AM train). Now, I sit in the internet cafe that I've written so many previous missives. I have grown to love hating the other people that frequent this spot. English, French, Italian, Australian, American and Israeli hippies who are here to learn different yoga techniques and come closer to finding nirvana. I wish that they were all closer to Kurt Cobain, but I'm happy that they bring money to India. As you can tell, I'm conflicted.
I'm in this godforsaken hippie tourist ghetto, because I'm going to meet with my friends at the Delhi Deaf Women's Sweatshop. I may talk to them about transit accessibility, and learn about how Delhi's system works (or doesn't work) for them. I'm worried that they will call me fat. Luckily the rain makes me look thinner.
Nonetheless, I need an umbrella. I left mine at the exurban enclave of patparganj. I am staying with a sweet couple that we met last time we were here. I had asked the man (a retired garmet maker) if the monsoon was over, and I thought that he had said yes, but his english is about as good as my hindi. So I may have to bargain for a new one.
It is odd not to experience India with M. I will meet her on Saturday (If Ganesha grants me the strength to make the 6AM train). Now, I sit in the internet cafe that I've written so many previous missives. I have grown to love hating the other people that frequent this spot. English, French, Italian, Australian, American and Israeli hippies who are here to learn different yoga techniques and come closer to finding nirvana. I wish that they were all closer to Kurt Cobain, but I'm happy that they bring money to India. As you can tell, I'm conflicted.
I'm in this godforsaken hippie tourist ghetto, because I'm going to meet with my friends at the Delhi Deaf Women's Sweatshop. I may talk to them about transit accessibility, and learn about how Delhi's system works (or doesn't work) for them. I'm worried that they will call me fat. Luckily the rain makes me look thinner.
7/4/06
'nuff said
Note from Michele:
"actually, i really dont want ANY emails on the blog. please remove them. thanks."
contact her directly to request updates.
"actually, i really dont want ANY emails on the blog. please remove them. thanks."
contact her directly to request updates.
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