A Bus With a View
The company bus is the basic transportation for many of the staff and software
developers at Honeywell. Several busses come to the office twice
a day from the corners of the city and then back out again in the evening.
Since my apartment is near the center of the city and the HISO office is
at the southern edge, riding the bus has given me a wider view of life
in the city than I would have experienced otherwise. My memories
are filled with the people, storefronts, and the stream of traffic, city
sights more diverse than anything I've experienced.
It's not traffic, it's a game of chicken
In Bangalore, the distance from A to B is not so important. What's
important is the traffic out on the road.. The bus ride takes about 25
minutes in the morning, almost twice that long at night. It is a
wild ride as the bus driver vies for position, tactically manuevering into
any space that will advance him a bit nearer the next turn or intersection.
Line dividers are no obstacle, opposing traffic are foes to be bested,
pedestrians duck back onto the curb or dart across the road within feet
of disaster. I've seen our bus turn frightening close to oncoming traffic,
but also within inches in front of the traffic behind us. Before arriving
here, I had a foolish notion that I could ride a bicycle in Bangalore.
Even if I learned to manuever in the traffic, bicycles are near the bottom
of the caste system out on the street. Only pedestrians and dogs
are lower.
The horn is a necessity here akin to petrol in the tank and tires on
the wheels. Its use ranges from a seemingly polite "Hello, I'm behind you
and about to pass" to a continuous blare that is meant to insult or push
aside the adjacent vehicle. I've read that one company is reevaluating
the service life of car horns it installs based on their failure rate in
India. I'd be surprised if each horn lasts a year.
The streets are alive
I've tried to capture images of the diversity seen along the roads in Bangalore,
but it's tricky to catch the sometimes fleeting curious subjects.
All manner of animals roam freely. I've seen countless dogs, cows,
water buffalo, horses, and donkeys. Bullocks or oxen are used to pull carts
that carry everything from towering piles of insulation, sugar cane, steel
wire and pipe, granite, and so on. Trucks are painted in outrageous
colors and designs, each with the classic "SOUND HORN - OK" signs painted
on the rear (so that's why they blow their horns continually!)
Gettin' around town
There are city busses that run all over the city, but I don't anticipate
riding on one. There are few that aren't stacked to bursting, body
parts pressed against the glass. Instead, I find the best way to
get around town is an autorickshaw, a three-wheeled affair with a fabric
top, open sides, motorcycle-style steering, and a sputtering engine in
the back. Sort of a motorscooter with a bench seat in back.
They aren't sized for 6'4" guys, but the driver will take you where you
want to go. Most drivers don't know my street address though, so
I have to give them directions around the neighborhood. As you might
guess, that gets kinda interesting at night when I struggle to peer out
the side and spot barely visible landmarks.
Dust, exhaust, and smoke
Of course, the inevitable result of so much traffic is air pollution.
Though there are regulations that require emission checks, I seriously
doubt that they are enforced. The offenders are not only the big
trucks that must be burning #3 crude oil (if there is such a thing) but
also the hundreds of thousands of 2-cycle-powered motorscooters, motorcycles,
mopeds (collectively known as "two wheelers") and autorickshaws.
During this winter, there has seldom been any wind, and the result in the
city during rush hour is a shock to any Minnesotan accustomed to cool Canadian
breezes. I should add that vehicles are not the only source of air
pollution in India. There is a tradition, apparently learned in small
villages, of sweeping the streets of leaves and debris and then burning
the piles of leaves every morning. It does keep the leaves from piling
up, but at what cost to health?
Local color
My rant against air pollution notwithstanding, I have enjoyed very much
experiencing the colors and dynamics of city life every day. I plan
to take a special trip in a cab when I can stop and take pictures of some
of the storefronts and street vendors that go by too quickly every day
on the bus. The quirky spelling and charming homespun advertising
is terrific. My favorite is the men's hairstylist with a hand-painted
sign across the shop entrance that announces "God Made Man ...We Make Him
Gentleman."
