Education

As part of our meeting schedule we met with Infosys, and leading technology and consulting firm, and Rishi Valley, a private education organization specializing in rural education. The meeting with Infosys was interesting in terms of issues around production management outsourcing, IT development in India, and of course the recent scandal involving one of their major competitors, Satyam Computer Services. However, for me the most interesting part of the discussion centered on the human capital pipeline issues and the needs that Infosys has as a growing multinational corporation. Their growth has been huge, with the biggest limiting factor being the rate at which they can hire new staff. Education in India is provided by the state as well as private education. According to one source, only 50% of students in public schools in Mumbai finish primary school, let alone secondary school or university. In addition, the rise of other IT companies in India has created more recruiting competition for Infosys. The education system has responded and now tries to churn out more candidates, but the quality of the talent pool has also decreased. Infosys has tried to bridge this gap by setting up its own universities, and creating training programs of its own, but the need for more education (especially in the rural areas, where the majority f the population resides) in my opinion is critical to sustaining their growth. The next day we took a five hour bus ride into the countryside to meet with Rishi Valley, a rural education complex that has pioneered a new type of curriculum specifically tailored to the communities they work in. They have created a curriculum that consists of a learning ladder for primary school children accompanied by a set of cards that have various activities on them. The curriculum is primarily student driven, and allows the students to learn at their own pace. They work on a particular card until they have mastered the concept before moving onto the next one. In rural areas students often miss large chunks of time in the school year, and this allows the student to pick up right where they left off after a prolonged absence. This also allows the teacher flexibility to teach a diverse group of learners. The cards are grouped so that students are working independently, working with other groups of students, or working with the teacher. The directors of the school also pride themselves on creating the curriculum based on the needs of the communities in which they work – they stressed that it was not a one-size-fits-all model, and that the content needs to be created with the teachers and based on the local traditions and needs. At the same time they also try to stay within and meet all of the education standards as laid out by the state. I think this is a great effort in that the directors are really looking at and responding to the needs of the community. At the same time, I worry that having different standards for different kids (no to mention different economic needs and different standards) means that they are not all equally prepared for the needs of the growing economy of India, including with companies like Infosys. What was clear to me both from Infosys and Rishi Valley was that education is a priority for many, and much work remains to be done to grow and strengthen the entire system in India, and that the problems they face are not as different in character as the ones we face in the United States.

Women

I had always heard that India was a conservative country, but I never realized how true that was until I noticed the differences between men and women in India. First of all, the roles that women have in society are not those that I typically associate with feminine or domestic positions. In fact, most of those positions are held by men. Wait staff, hotel cleaning crews, all hotel staff in fact, are all males. The only women I have really seen working are doing manual labor – transporting bricks or rocks in baskets balanced precariously on their heads, yard work, street cleaning, etc. Women are also treated differently in other areas as well – they have reserved train cars, reserved dining rooms, and special lines at the airports. Discreet dress is the norm, and I have not seen an Indian women dressed in anything showing her legs. More than a few people here have asked me if I am of Indian descent, and I in turn have tried to be more conservative than normal. At the same time I have to say there is something nice and comforting about how the system here works. I do not feel as though the differences are demeaning or restrictive, but respectful and actually quite nice, at least for the time while I’ve been here. If I had to live under these restrictions in the USA I might feel differently, but for some reason here it feels right.

Housing

Slums and swanky hotels. These are the types of structures that we have had the most experience with here in India. As I mentioned in another post we were upgraded to stay in (mostly empty, and heavily guarded) 5-star hotels. These places are absolutely amazing, with the biggest complaint being that the minibar is too expensive. Contrasted with this are the miles and miles of organized slums that take up large swaths of the big cities and informal settlements that line many of the roads and train stations. Experiencing these two extremes heightens that relationship I had with visiting the slums. We visited Dharavi with the Mumbai Municipal Commission, which was quite an interesting experience for several reasons. The MMC is charged with slum rehabilitation/slum clearance, so their relationship with the slums and slum-dwellers has historically been a bit contentious. Going into the slums with them is the same way I felt when going into schools with high level officials from the Department of Education. People are nice and accommodating but the power differentials are clear and change the dynamics of the experience. Nonetheless it was fascinating and a wonderful experience. My first impression was Dharavi is not as run down or dilapidated as I expected. Most of the structures are fairly solid and there are many government built structures as well. You will not find many abodes here made out of sheet metal and cardboard as you see on the side of the road. While it is a more developed slum (and the people here arguable live in better conditions than many of the other informal settlements in India) the government is creating plans for its redevelopment. My  understanding is that land in Mumbai is expensive, and actually rivals prices in places like NYC. It is very dense, and there are very few places left to develop. Dharavi is actually situated on prime real estate that the government is very much interested in developing for private commercial and residential use. MMC’s draft development plan proposed having part of the slum developed by private developers who would get a discount on the land in exchange for building and maintaining new residences for the slum dwellers. The theory being the public-private partnership is that the developers/government would be able to turn the slums into a commercially viable space while at the same time creating more sanitary homes for the slum dweller. 

However, my sense is that the project is less altruistic than it seems.  Dharavi is supposed to be the largest slum in Asia (this is disputed – apparently there is some competition over this title) and as such the people there have been able to organize more effectively and negotiate with the government about certain issues. Because they are more organized I think they pose a greater challenge to the government in their goal of redeveloping the slums. This partnership developed in part because of the resistance they would face if they decided to just level the whole place. There are a few holes in the plan that make me think this is true. First of all, the plan only requires that people who lived in the slums since 2001 (or something like that) get apartments. Anyone else is not eligible and must fend for themselves. Second, Dharavi has established quite a large micr0-economy, and millions of dollars are  made there every year from Tannery and other handicraft operations. The new scheme would provide spaces for this work to continue, but in my opinion would be very disruptive to those that already have established operations. Finally, there are people living in much worse conditions than Dharavi, that could use more government assistance. I think they are focusing their efforts on Dharavi because these slum dwellers have more political power than other poor people in the city, and the MMC needs their buy-in in order to develop any of the land.

Housing policy aside, the question I keep asking myself is whether or not these people are really that bad off. While we’ve been in India there is a sense of pity permeating the air. We see the kids begging on the street, and selling their wares, and feel sorry that they have to sleep on the side of the roads or in the slums. However, I sometimes I wonder if this is my own self-righteousness coming into play. I am reading a book (Shantaram by Gregory Roberts) about an Australian man who escapes from prison and ends up fleeing to Bombay and then living in the slums. He describes his move into the slums: “People came out of their huts to stand in every doorway. Dozens, and eventually hundreds, of people crowded into the side lanes and the occasional gaps between the houses. They were all staring at me with such gravity, such a fixity of frowning intensity, that I felt sure they must bear me enormous ill-will. I was wrong, of course. I couldn’t know then, on my first day, that the people were simply staring at my fear. they were trying to understand what demons haunted my mind, causing me to dread so terribly the place they knew to be a sanctuary from the fates far worse than slum life.”

People are people, and I believe we can find happiness or distress in any situation. To project our sense of what is good onto a whole group of people is patronizing, and preventing someone from feeling pride by labeling their lifestyle as sub-standard is a cruel exercise. At the same time, using this as an excuse to ignore the serious poverty that people live in doesn’t seem right to me either. My sense is that a bit of humility and compassion may help, which is easier to do as an individual, but seems to be a more challenging task for the public-policy maker.

In any case, I do think it will be interesting to see how this model plays out. The city really is trying to engage the slum dwellers, and it could prove to be a more sustainable way to create safe housing for slum residents, and also help bring some revenue into the city. Will definately be keeping an eye on the developments to see what happens.

People

There are very few (western) tourists in India right now, and very many street vendors. When we arrived in Mumbai it took several days and a trip to the heart of the tourist hot spots to see anyone that resembled a westerner, and even then we saw maybe 5 people total. This is especially true in the hotels in which we are staying. We were given a free upgrade by the travel agency to 4 and 5 star hotels (we originally requested mid-range/3-star hotels). These places are luxurious; marble floors, chandeliers, roof-top pools and bars, spas…the ITC in Agra even had a resident astrologer! The tourists, it seems, have been replaced by armed guards and metal detectors. One of the hotels we stayed at had an armed guard on each floor and the staff and guards far outnumber the guests. The people who are staying in the hotels and traveling on planes seem to be tourists from other parts of India and business people.

The lack of tourists makes us prime targets for street vendors. Truth be told the number of beggars and street vendors is lower than I anticipated or prepared for. In Mumbai we were hardly approached, and the same is true in Bangalore and Delhi. We visited the Haji Ali Mosque in Mumbai which is a mosque that lies a few hundred feet into the sea that you get to by walking along a causeway. During high tide this bridge like structure is completely submerged and the mosque literally looks like it is floating in the sea. The mosque is a designated begging spot and the causeway is flanked by beggars of all shapes and sizes. Men, women, children, families, handicaps, etc. Because it is a designated spot the beggars do not explicitly ask for money; they sit either chanting, praying, or in silence with small cups placed in front of their spot. Most people who exit the mosque leave something for many of them although there are literally hundreds and it would be hard for one person to give to every one of them.

We came across a few children begging in Mumbai and that was most intense. The most difficult were the 10 y/o kids holding small infants. They are persistent and in obvious need. According to our tour guide most of the begging that happens is organized by the mafia. They allow certain people to stand on certain corners and then take a heavy commission. They also pay the baksheesh  to police and other “stakeholders.” These organizations will also “encourage” people (especially children) to disfigure or handicap themselves so as to take in more money. Slumdog Millionaire does a good job of depicting the street scene in Mumbai and I’d recommend it if you have not already seen it.

Although the begging is really difficult for me to deal with (and I don’t really have a good response or reaction), the hawking is something that tears at my heart.

One summer during college  I went to Spain with a friend with the intention of working and making some money. Unfortunately for us we were unable to find anyone who would employ us, even under the table. We had a place to stay but for me at least spending money was a problem. One day we met a Hungarian lady who was selling oil painting, and she was looking for a few people to help her sell them across Spain and Portugal. It sounded like a great adventure and chance to see Portugal and make some money and we decided to join her. What sounded as a glamorous job actually turned out to be one of the most difficult experiences I have had. We were essentially traveling street vendors, trying to sell our products to people and businesses all over cities. She would give us 15-20 paintings (3 feet by 4 feet) and would drop us off in a location in the morning and then pick us up in the afternoon on the other side of the city. It was hard work and extremely humiliating. For every painting we sold we had to give her 40 Euros. I remember at one point negotiating with someone for so long that I took a negative profit just because psychologically I could not take another non-sale. Even worse than than these types of interactions where the people who didn’t even look at us or those that just spoke in Portuguese (a language I don’t understand) and laughed at us or our products.

My vulnerability in this doesn’t help though, as I get dangerously close to being mobbed by vendors. Although my experience wasn’t driven by the extreme desperation that might drive people here, in some way I feel like I identify with it in some way, and it makes it hard to understand how to react. I know that people here might also be happier than I was when I was a street vendor, and I might be projecting how I felt onto them. Either way it is a complicated political, emotional, and social situation, and one that I don’t think we will figure out on this short trip.

Transportation

At this point the whole group has arrived in India, and the excitement started with the plane ride over. Qatar Airways is great. The  plane was nice and big, and each seat came equipped with a TV screen with a tremendous movie selection. Not only were there Hollywood blockbusters but great films from all over the world (including, of course, some key Bollywood flicks) and even some artsy shorts. The food (Halal) was also really good, as was the service. They had these stickers that you could put on your chair letting the flight attendants know what they should do in the event that you are asleep when a meal is being served which I thought was absolutely brilliant customer service.

Strange, however, was the ethnic background of the crew – they were all mostly of Asian decent. There were no Arabic-looking flight attendants on board or working at the gates. This could have been a coincidence, but it seemed pretty pervasive to me. In fact there were very few women working in service positions in the Doha airport and also very few here in Mumbai. Of all the people working at the hotel we are at, there is only one woman who works at reception. All of the waitstaff and cleaning staff here are males. Not sure what this is about…

I arrived at the airport at 4:15am, and was greated by my driver right outside of the airport. The ride to the hotel and all subsequent rides since then have been thrilling. The vehicles in Mumbai are great. First, there are the auto rickshaw. There are the cutest darn vehicles I have ever seen. These mini-vehicles share the roads with huge trucks, bicycles, oxen, cows, people, and my absolute favorite, the Mumbai taxis. All of the taxis look the same on the outside, but they all have very different kitchy upholstery on the inside – typically different on the seats and the ceilings. Many of the drivers also keep incense burning next to mini-shrines on the dashboard. Love it. 

Despite all of the different types of vehicles on the road, they don’t really drive as individuals here, like perhaps in New York City; cars and people move together as if they were one organism. Honking here is ever-present and forms the basis of a complex language used by cars to keep from getting into major collisions. From what I can tell 3 beeps means “I am going to cut you off on the left, so speed up or move over,” 2 beeps means the same, but on the right,” 1 short beep means “don’t move over, I am in your blind spot,” and 1 long beep means “move out of the way RIGHT NOW.” Pedestrians are no less daring in this dance. They will literally cross the street into oncoming traffic, dodging cars like a game of frogger. Except that they don’t dodge – I have never seen anyone run, even in the face of an oncoming bus. Its like like a massive game of chicken where no one ever conceeds, but no one ever loses.