India through the lens of an auto-rick

How many people can fit in an auto-rick?

This question became quite a laughing matter for our group as we piled people on top of people, bargained, maneuvered, and navigated India by way of the popular yellow and green auto-rickshaw. Beyond a good laugh, however, the auto-rick became a fitting metaphor for the city of Delhi. Who operates an auto-rick and who utilizes it? Where can one catch an auto-rick and where are they scarcely to be seen? What does it mean to bargain and what does it mean to get ripped off? Delhi through the lens of an auto-rickshaw illustrated the choreographed chaos and the rhythm, the interconnection and the individual, and the unseen stories that we experienced throughout India.

One inspiring thought that propelled our group through India was that ‘chaos can be structured’ - in fact, often chaos is merely another form of order. At first glance, Delhi seemed completely and utterly disorganized, dirty, and disjointed. We were convinced that none of the roads had been built for six lanes and yet auto-rickshaws, bicycle-rickshaws, motorcycles, buses, and private cars consistently manipulated their way through traffic creating entirely new lanes. Pedestrians crossing these six-lane masses of insanity had better move quickly, have keen peripheral vision, and advanced street wit. We soon learned that locals rarely batted an eye at having to make their way on foot through traffic. There was a rhythm, a balance, a place, a time to make one’s break across the road and once we were able to read the beat, we were able to cross the street.

Delhi, what’s to say? I got off the plane exhausted and completely disoriented…It was nice to get out and walk around today. The colors are beautiful and the market is full of life…the modes of transportation are numerous and looking down on the street it just looks like confusion with no structure. On the plane ride to India I had the chance to watch a traditional Bollywood film.
The opening scene took place in Delhi – brilliantly depicting the everyday hustle and bustle of the city. The main character quickly stated,
“Everything here is happening at the same time, yet there is some kind of balance”.
I would have to agree after having my first ride in an auto-rick.
I kept joking that it was like a rollercoaster with no safety precautions…
lanes are completely disregarded by drivers and I didn’t understand the relentless and ever constant honking between drivers. It just made no sense to me why anyone would want to honk a horn that much. Over the past few days, and several auto rides, I’ve come to learn why the drivers honk: that’s how they audibly communicate with each other to ensure that they don’t crash.
The honks are our versions of blinkers!
IHP Cities Fall ’09 Student

Making our way through traffic was obviously quite a mission but making our way through the city during monsoon weather was an entirely new story. Monsoon season was supposed to be over by the time we arrived in Delhi, but apparently it held off long enough for us to experience it as well. Though we hated the rain for drenching us as we braved our first auto-rick journeys from our homestays, we learned a great deal about its effect on the city. For starters, it was nearly impossible to catch an auto-rick when it rained. The city itself seemed to halt to a standstill. It was explained to us that street sweepers were paid daily to sweep garbage out of sight (and consequently that meant into gutters). Needless to say, when it rained all the gutters, which had been clogged with garbage, became futile. Rickshaws and other autos were forced to navigate back roads and alternative routes – making everyone late to their destinations. As sopping wet students we were willing to pay any amount for an auto-rick’s haven away from the rain. However, most people in Delhi weren’t so fortunate to have such an escape.

The entire east periphery of Delhi (housing the slums) was created on a lower plateau than the city’s center. The slums became the city’s drainage and wasteland. What it must do to the human psyche to not only be part of society’s lowest caste, the ‘untouchables’, but to also physically live lower than upper-class society. It was a constant struggle to witness, and grapple with the poverty and caste segregation of India. At every traffic jam and traffic light our green and yellow auto-rick would draw a crowd of children. Encountering children begging on the street was one of the most difficult challenges we faced in India. We were told to ignore the children and to never give them money. We were warned that any money given to children would most likely be taken away by the adult who controlled, managed, monitored, and manipulated the child.

How could we ignore children?

Many of us started disliking who we were becoming – cold, callous, and unwilling to humanize or face the inescapable poverty which encroached around us. Then on one hot and humid afternoon we visited an organization which was operated by and for street children. Over 50,000 children in India take to the street to earn an income. Chetna is an organization with about 5,000 members - solely run by street kids who advocate for their rights, safety, and education. Suddenly, the vague faces of street children had names, stories, wisdom, joy, and life. We sang with, danced with, listened to, loved on, and were loved by some of the most intelligent and strong children we’d ever met. The children left us with a bit of advice when encountering beggars – don’t give money, but don’t ignore; acknowledge them as human, after all, each of ‘them’ has an individual story.

Meeting the street children of Chetna was a real turning point for many of us. We now had more peace of mind and confidence to embrace and interact with the overwhelming amount of marginalized and displaced people all around us. We started learning how to bargain, interview, and interact with street vendors and auto-rick drivers more respectfully. As we began to ‘suspend judgment’, individuals’ faces and stories emerged right before our eyes.

Yesterday was our Market Day…if anything, this visit taught me that looks can be deceiving. The somewhat shabby looking store was actually several decades old and full of history. The owner himself had opened the shop and had created his line all on his own. He sat us down and showed us pictures of when he first began selling the rickshaws. We learned of the chain of events for how a rickshaw ultimately comes into being. He gives materials to a ‘wheel and spokes’ man who builds the wheels…then puts in a request for the wooden box to be built.
When these parts arrive, he gets the men in his factory to assemble the bike together.
When all of this is through, the man is able to sell the requested rickshaw.
IHP Cities Fall ’09 Student

From the very creation of a rickshaw we experienced the web of interconnection among individuals. The creation and planning for the city of Chandigarh was similarly designed to intersect individuals, as well as their body, mind, and souls.

In Chandigarh we observed and analyzed how one of the most planned cities in the world was fulfilling its original vision. Le Corbusier created a very specific plan for Chandigarh before it was built and then built the area to become the capital region for the state...we learnt about Le Corbusier’s vision and design and investigated how this was carried out into the reality of the city. How had things followed the plan? What was different? How has current development adjusted to these plans? What works?
IHP Cities Fall ’09 Student

What we found was that despite Le Corbusier’s efforts to design a holistic and unified city, Chandigarh predominantly catered to the wealthy, to those owning and operating autos, and displaced the poor to the periphery of the city and out of main sight. As many of us began thinking ahead to our own careers as urban planners, anthropologists, professors, social workers, advocates, and activists we realized how imperative it will be to know fully the history, the culture, and to work alongside locals in order for efforts to be sustainable and equitable to all. As we experienced India’s inequalities of caste, class, race, beauty, and gender we then had to face and question our own ideologies of equality, safety, and privilege.

The most difficult experience I faced in India was finding bed bugs in my hotel bed in Agra. It was the first time I’d ever had anything crawling in my bed. I am so picky about my bed back home that I really flipped out and didn’t know how to react. This was a hotel and I was a paying customer - I had the right to complain about the service…right? The front desk was really nice and apologetic but then the next room I went into also had bed bugs!
The guy who helped me move from room A to B wanted me to stay in room B.
My response was ‘No. Would you sleep in this?’
(pointing to one of the bugs on the bed).
He replied ‘yes’.
Whether he actually understood me or not wasn’t the point…
it was his answer that I’ve reflected on.
I have come to realize that the idea of having a bed is a blessing…
shelter itself is a luxury that not everyone has.
The ‘right to complain and demand service’ was rooted in privilege.
IHP Cities Fall ’09 Student

Undoubtedly we will spend a lifetime reflecting on and shaping our ideologies of equality and privilege. India forced us to redefine poverty and opened our eyes more to the inequalities that exist throughout the world. In the words of Kalyani Menon (our esteemed and brilliant country coordinator) “the reason ‘they’ are poor is that we are not”. Now we must try to understand how we fit contribute and respond to the displaced, marginalized, and overall injustice which exists in the world. From all we have heard about South Africa we expect that we will continue to analyze and deconstruct our own and others’ ideologies of power, equality, race, gender, justice, privilege, and freedom.