Ahmedabad

On our way into Ahmedabad we got lost and ended up driving past a squatter's settlement (slum) under the flight path to the Ahmedabad airport. It was the first time I had seen up close the poverty that everyone had been preparing me to find. Families are living in 15 ft x 15 foot rooms made out of 8 ft brick walls and 250 sf of tin. This slum did not extend for miles like I expect Mumbai or Rio slums to reach, but even the 300 meters or so at the airport probably housed 1,000 people. A bigger slum in the flood plain of Ahmedabad's Sabarmati river may have housed 10,000 people. Living conditions in these slums looked as poor as slums are supposed to look, but I haven't walked through one yet to get a sense of how the people living in them feel about their situation. From afar, the people look like they are getting by. Its the people living in the streets that look miserable. Ahmedabad has homeless who are obviously sleeping in the streets and in the parks in the middle of traffic circles. We had homeless living right outside our haveli, and inside the 24 hours we were there we got to recognize them.

Our haveli/hotel was more like a palace, with rooms bigger and nicer than ones in Jodhpur. It had three restaurants serving 15 rooms. The locals come here to have the lunch served in the terrace, and we managed to have three lunches at this spot. On our second lunch here we even saw Bimal Patel also having lunch here - we had been a guest at Mr. Patel's planning practice the previous evening.

Between our three lunches at the MG, we took a walking tour of the Ahmedabad old town, and saw streets turn to paths turn to secret passages. The districts formally only connect to the main streets, but if you know your way around, you can find the passages that connect the districts at their most remote and confusing ends. The secret passages look like hallways in someone's house, and have doors that suggest private property, but thats how the residents get around.

Ahmedabad and Gujarat are also famous for their association with Gandhi. Gandhi was Gujerati, and stayed in Ahmedabad in an ashram for several years practicing what he preached to others - live simply, serve the state, develop cottage industries. He also further developed and refined his political philosophy here, and began his Salt March from here.

A Ride Through the Old City

(Julie) Transportation in India is always interesting, chaotic, and somehow oddly fluid. I tasted a new flavor of Indian transportation on a trip through the Old City of Udaipur in search of a pharmacist.

Arriving in Udaipur on 2nd November, I had a tremendous head cold and no cold medicine. Upon checking in to our historic haveli hotel, I asked if someone could show me the way to a pharmacy. A young man at the inn said if I could wait a few minutes he would be happy to take me there. This being an Indian old city and made up of a maze of narrow twisting streets, I thought we would simply walk for a few minutes. But when a I followed him out the door, I found he had jumped on a motorcycle and expected me to get on behind him. Sans helmet.

Streets within the old cities of any town in India are extremely narrow affairs, most too narrow for cars and some just barely wide enough but with open gutters that can quickly entrap an errant wheel. The streets mostly handle foot traffic, auto rickshaws, hand carts, the occassional auto with a driver crazy enough to try getting through, and the ubiquitous motor bike.

With a quick prayer to Ganesh, the remover of obstacles, I climbed on back and we sped off through the twisting maze of streets dodging pedestrians, auto rickshaws, other motor bikes, the odd car and many placid cows. Our route took us past the Jagdish Mandir, a Hindu temple dedicated to Vishnu, where I was delivered to a pharmacist who spoke English. The pharmacist sat me down and proceeded to practice medicine without a license. We went over my cold symptoms and he showed me his recommendations including a "sort of but not really" antibiotic that all the doctors are currently prescribing. After making my purchases it was back on the motor bike retracing our path through the maze and a safe arrival back at the hotel. I'm much better now.

Epilogue: Mr. Toad's Wild Ride
One night in Udaipur the entire group took auto rickshaws to a very nice restaurant overlooking Lake Picchola, forming a conga line. My rickshaw was in the lead and every twist and turn of the narrow streets brought forth new obstacles to dodge, especially the impassive cows. Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. Need I say more?

Udaipur

This town is famous for its lakeside location. There are several hills in the area with forts or palaces at their crest, and over the centuries the rulers have made several lakes. The best lake is the one at the foot of the palace. It has a few tiny islands in it, and two are (just) large enough for ultra-luxury resorts. Both rise straight up out of the water and rest on marble seawalls. One has a garden that tourists can visit, and it provides a great lakes-eye view of the rich part of the city, the part that has views of the lake. The second in-lake resort, the Lake Palace, is painted all white, like so much of the city itself, whose penchant for using lime for paint earned it the nickname 'The White City'. Visitors are not allowed into the Lake Palace without either a room reservation or a dinner reservation. We sailed around it, however, on our boat tour.

We toured the palace as well, caught a glimpse of the crown prince and his posse (the royal family still lives in one wing of the palace), and then began our Free Time. The point of our coming to Udaipur was to have a break from traveling, lecturing, and scheduling for a few days. Free Time means sleeping in, setting your own schedule, finding places to eat on your own, optional tours with Sanjay outside the city gates, doing laundry, and not having to pack or unpack for three full days.

I spent part of my Free Time figuring out my way around old town. The streets are not marked, and they are winding and confusing, but each day I would venture a little further from the hotel, and finally found my way to the main commercial districts bordering the old town. This is where the real action in Udaipur is. The streets were wide but still crowded with two, three, and four-wheeled vehicles. Pedestrians abounded. There were non-stop shops the whole 90 minute walk. The shops seemed to appear in industrial clusters - here a few auto repair shops, there some tailors.

Back at the heart of old town, just behind the temple, I found the German cafe (great apple crumble) and one of the rooftop restaurants that show the movie Octopussy every night at 7 PM. Half of the movie was filmed in this town, and it was great to be able to recognize both the locations and the people and objects portrayed in the film. They use the three-wheeled scooters then and now, and the people really do dress as colorfully as shown in the film.

The best place in Udaipur was the Tibeten (Aapano) bazaar at the foot of the lakeside road to the City Palace. The bazaar included an Indian saree and silk store with a well-displayed selection, including prices, that made it easy for me to pick from among the different items. I found great cloth and clothes, and recommended the place to the rest of the group. Several of us visited his shop over the three days we were there. The shopkeeper Rakesh was patient, easy to work with, and not pushy. He appreciated our creativity and worked with us and his tailors to get us our items quickly and well fitted.

Shree Jagdish Mahal

(Hing) The 250 year-old Nagar Seth Ri Haveli, a unique heritage hotel in Udaipur, has historical wall paintings in Italian fresco called Boono fresco. A large painting of Ganesh faced the entrance of the lobby which welcomed all guests and visitors. The hotel is close to the Clock Tower, Jagdish Temple, and City Palace.

Our group stayed four nights at this location, mostly so we can be rejuvenated during our three-week tour since it was basically at the midway point. The owner welcomed us each with a flower lei and a bindi (red dot) on the forehead.

During the course of our stay, we learn a heart-warming story regarding one of the young staff members. Fifteen year old Nahander knew very little English, but always had a great smile to welcome us. Nahander became an orphan when both parents passed away (one from cancer) and his aunt started to take care of him for a few years. For whatever reason (which wasn't revealed), she threw him out and he was homeless at the age of 12. The hotel manager, Rakesh Soni, spotted him three years ago near the hotel full of tears. Nahander is paid very little (even for India standards), but he has a roof over his head and food on the table. We took good care of him and are glad he has some support from the hotel.

The City of Sunrise

(Alice) The Ranas of Mewar trace their ancestry back to the sun, and after ruling from nearby Chittaugarh they founded Udaipur in 1559. Portraits and lineage charts of the Maharanas going back to the 7th century are on display in the City Palace.

The Mewars weren't networking types, remaining mostly independent from the Mughuls and other neighbors, and managed to even avoid most British influence after coming under Crown control in the early 1800s. The equestrian Mewars mixed it up with the elephant-mounted Mughals in many bloody battles. Maharana Pratap Singh devised a fake elephant trunk to attach to his faithful steed Chewak. This was a game-changer, as the Mughal mounts would not charge what appeared to be a baby elephant.

Udaipur is bordered by gates, moats and Pichola Lake, on which sits the beautiful Lake Palace of Octopussy fame. There has evolved a local cottage industry of roof terrace restaurants that show Octopussy while you eat and drink and laugh at Roger Moore's 80s-era take on James Bond in an exotic but santized India, all while you overlook the actual scenery.

The architecture is a bricolage of Rajput, Mughal, Hindu and Islamic influences, with bold folk-art murals splashed onto walls indoors and out. Rythms of colored glass, tiles, mirrors and ornately painted trim are tempered by walls of austere white, pale blues and yellows. Abundant archways, gates and contrasting wood shutters visually invite your passage into other places.

Jewelrysmiths and tailors operate out of tiny shops completely open to the edge of the winding streets, and as you walk by you can almost peer over their shoulders as they work. You are aware of constant passage through private and public spaces, but differently felt than western concepts of indoors/ outdoors.

The winding streets are jammed with every activity of gods, humans and animals. Tuesday is Hanauman's day, and our first evening stroll brings us to a well-visited shrine to the monkey-god. Devotees light fires and drape marigold garlands next to an idol that looks like a giant gold-leafed Mr. Potato Head. Two dozen men sit in the alley across from the shrine, playing instruments and chanting feverishly for hours.

Wednesday is Ganesha's day, the remover of obstacles and god of planners. The interior courtyard of our hotel has a large Ganesha shrine, visited by some locals as well as guests. A large tree in front of our hotel also has its devotees, with burnt candles and incense surrounding its base: our hotel owner says that Vishnu and Lakshmi live there, and bring prosperity.

Thursday is Sai Baba day, and on our way to Octopussy, there are lights, music and religious frenzy in progress at his shrine next to the spice factory.

One unexpected image or activity after another barrages the visiting pedestrian to the point where I begin to experience camera fatigue. My head can barely contain it all, much less my memory card.

Wednesday before sunset, we take a boat ride on Lake Pichola, turning gold-orange along with our surroundings as the sun goes down and Lake Palace torches light up. We dine outdoors lakeside, a tabla player on a low stage nearby,sinking into our seats. Are we imagining all this? To deepen that thought, a full moon dreamily rises over a palace spire. Is anythingthis perfect? The question shimmers on the water as fireworks-- yes,really-- explode over Lake Palace.

Jodhpur

Our train from Jaipur to Jodhpur was cancelled because of the oil refinery fire near the route. So, we ended up taking our bus to Jodhpur instead. It was an eight hour ride, which reminded us of why we wanted to take the train in the first place. When we pulled in to Jodhpur, it was obvious even at 2 AM that we had lucked into a great place. The nice hotel was a foreshadowing of the fantastic tomb and fort combination we were to see the next morning. The hotel buildings were new, done in sandstone, with courtyards separating the several buildings in the complex. Each courtyard had a peaceful nook to hide in and drink tea, and the swimming pool was set into the patio almost perfectly level with the pool deck, as if the pool were part of the patio. The rooms were grand, the bathrooms included a walk-in closet, and there was a broadband connection in each room. The hotel was built by the royal family on a disused polo grounds. Polo is big here. One member of the local ruling family from 100 years ago led the India Polo team to several international victories, all along wearing a style of pants that bears the city's name.

The next morning we visited the tomb and fort complex. The tomb was build by the widow of the deceased king. The tomb itself was decent sized, but the real attraction was the setting. The tomb was at the top of an outcropping perhaps 1,000 feet above the Blue City. In one direction you could see the most massive fort in India, with walls 100 feet high and looking as if it had been carved right out of the stone it rests on. In the other direction, you could see the whole city filling in the valleys between outcroppings, and you could see that certain neighborhoods have been painted Periwinkle Blue.

It was impossible to tell where rock ended and the fort began. The wall extended straight up out of the stone, and only about half way up did you begin to see signs of living space behind the walls, mostly windows and terraces that extend out over the walls. There were no arrow slits or other trivial defenses, only pockmarks left by Jaipurian cannonballs. At one point the ramp into the castle split in two, with the main road leading back down to the city, and the a hairpin left turn that would be hard to notice at ramming speed leading further to the castle.

Jodhpur fort had the best knickknack shops we have seen so far. I found nice playing cards and a copy of the Bhagavad Gita written in English on one side and Sanskrit on the other. A couple others bought cards or miniature paintings.

We walked down from the fort through the old town to our bus. The Jodhpur old town was busy and crowded, but not that bug. Our local guide (Sanjay was still with the Jaipur group) did take us to a local rug merchant, where we listened to a 20 minute sales pitch,the only hard sell we have received on the tour so far. We had lunch then scooted to the airport, where we rode Kingfisher Airlines (probably owned by the same group that makes Kingfisher beer, but hopefully not fueled by Kingfisher). On the aiplane we met the six of us that had stayed the extra day in Jaipur and were taking the same flight to Udaipur (through Jodhpur) as we were. Both local airports were nice, clean and peaceful, not at all like Delhi airport or any of the train stations we have passed through.

The Taj Mahal

There is one main sight to see here, and that is the Taj Mahal building itself. It is massive, and stunningly beautiful with its symetrical design and 100% marble cladding. It looks like a cloud floating in the blue sky. There is enough but not too much carving and bas-relief, mostly of geometric patters or Arabic text, nor is there too much use of any other stone to use in inlaying designs in the marble. The tomb itself is also not so fantastic, compared to the view of the building from the outside, because there is not a lot of open space inside. A building this big needs a lot of foundation, and thick bearing walls and columns, so there is not a lot of open space left inside the building.

Bollywood Nights

(Alice) Our tour facilitator, Sanjay, escorted us to a large movie palace called the Raj Mandir for a showing of the Bollywood blockbuster “Blue”. The theatre has very luxe lighting and décor, and moviegoers hung around the vast lobby until just before the show, chatting with friends and snapping cell phone portraits in front of elaborate floral displays. Family groups were abundant.

Sanjay hooked us up with the best “Diamond” seats in the house, in a center balcony which gave the full effect of the wave-like lighting and swirled ceiling relief work framing a very large screen. The “Ruby” and “Emerald” seating areas cost about $2 US for a ticket, and our top-of-the-line seating was about $4. A cute square box of fresh popcorn was 50 cents. The large auditorium was at near capacity, with a palpably festive atmosphere. Indians rarely miss a chance to chat up strange foreigners and each other.

The show began with coming attractions, all emphasizing the Bollywood penchant for action, comedy, quick cuts and hot-looking young actors. The main attraction starred a number of well-known players, including a former Miss India as the love interest of the toughest guy. An inexplicable cameo appearance by Kylie Minogue in one of the dance numbers emphasized the global aspiratons of Indian film.

“Blue” was both formulaic and yet unusual for Bollywood, in that much of the action footage was shot underwater, first with the macho heroes beating up a great white shark, and later inflicting mayhem on the human bad guys. There were land-based chase scenes on Ducati motorcycles, and of course lots of music and dance and gyrating women in skimpy clothes. The film was shot mainly in the Bahamas and Thailand, and as is the case in the US, the main characters were all fabulously rich and cool and beautiful. And the Bahamas now have a railroad line surrounded with non-Bahamas vegetation, just because it was oh so excellent for a motorcycle chase scene to end with our hero landing his Ducati on top of a moving train.

While plot development is secondary to evoking exhilarating music-video emotion, “Blue” had a convoluted story for which Sanjay’s explanations were quite helpful. It was about retrieving long-lost treasure in a shipwreck, and solving a few romantic and money issues along the way. It was interesting that all the characters spoke random lines in English before switching back to Hindi. Sanjay says this was not the case ten years ago, but has been typical in the last few years as a ploy for wider global distribution of Bollywood product. And yes, it would have been possible to enjoy the film and follow the “plot” without additional translated context.

Another aspect of Indian films is, while they have become quite blatantly sexy in recent years, onscreen kisses or nudity are still not allowed. And yet Bollywood directors have become extraordinarily skilled in concocting highly erotic sequences with wet clothes, writhing postures and selective editing that are almost more highly sexual by virtue of the creativity required to just barely circumvent what is forbidden.

With all the emotion expended on exploding cars and dance-floor throwdowns, an intermission is required. More time to chat up your neighbors, order samosas at the refreshment stand or take pictures of American visitors.

Back when I taught cultural anthropology to undergrads, some were amazed to hear that India has by far the world’s largest film industry. Thousands of films a year are cranked out for distribution; many are low-budget and cranked out in a few weeks, but they have a huge and enthusiastic audience. Bollywood has become more sophisticated in recent years, and with the global success of “Slumdog Millionaire”, there is greater general awareness that India is the world’s biggest producer of mass fantasy. Bollywood fashion and music have become more international. Soundtracks have gone from Indian pop to bhangra to full-on hiphop. And yet there is a distinct escapist style of hyper-fantasy and exhuberance that remains pure Bollywood.

Animal Control

Dogs (all the same breed, and if you took one home and cleaned him up, you would have a smart, loyal, tough, and disease resistant servant), cows, elephants, camels, peacocks, water buffalos, monkeys (rhesus macaques at old forts, including some masquerading as bonobos, and common languors with cute black faces all around Udaipur and along the highway), pigs, goats, cobras and pythons, two cats, beehives and small bats in castles and flying foxes in Udaipur, burros, chickens and a rooster, palm squirrels the size of chipmunks seen everywhere but in a palm tree, a turtle and several geckos in breakfast rooms, cooking schools, and a museum.

Jaipur

Jaipur is a new and planned city, less than 300 years old. It was layed out in a 9x9 grid, with one of the grids displaced by a fort on a ridge and relocated to the opposite side of the city. Although three million people live here, it does not seem crowded like Delhi. The grid pattern of streets in the old town might have something to do with this feel, and it could also be that the streets are simply wider and there is more off-street parking available.

The buildings in and around the palace are beautiful and well preserved. All the streets are residential over retail, and there are arcades over the sidewalks in front of the shops that both shade the shoppers and support a 2nd story terrace that runs the length of the roads and serve as a urban front yard for the residents of the homes on the upper stories.

We saw beautiful, clean, and well maintained chandeliers in the palace. Its too bad that the handicraft trade is so important to the local culture, because while they help preserve traditions and are beautiful, the trade may distract the entrepreneurs, and draws resources away from, from other trades or educational opportunities that would also help preserve and promote Rajasthan culture. The lunch was fabulous - it was a restaurant with a long history in Jaipur, it all-veg, they had one great room with rows of tables that felt like a German beer-garden, and they had great treats for sale next to the cashier.

From A Bus Named TOURIST

(Alice) Thoughts roll along with the landscape as we motor into Rajasthan, caught in bumpy road-notes:

Potential road kill now includes monkeys, peacocks, camels and water buffalo. So far our extraordinary driver has negotiated all traffic, human and otherwise without sending anything into its next incarnation. Along with a small "American Planning Association" sign, the front of the bus is decorated with a Ganesh decal, two small strands of chili peppers and lime whose significance has yet to be revealed, and a monkey-demon image.

Vernacular architecture is good for the planner soul, especially when you can’t even guess the function of a particular structure.

The long-haul truckers drive rolling works of art, message fused to image, to be further discussed in another blog entry. Meanwhile, HORN PLEASE, and USE DIPPER AT NIGHT.

Planners everywhere are constructing thoughtful and current master plans, but none of us on either side of the globe has any novel or better ideas about implementation.

Regarding Chandigarh: a planned area always draws a line and the periphery will always become a question and a problem: infill? Go higher? Change the boundaries?

Not all superblocks are created equal. While we all want to walk to everything we need, we will drive across town if the shops or schools are perceived to be better elsewhere.

And yes, 8 or more people can get into an autorickshaw, even if they’re not going to a better superblock.

A busload of planners, architects and attorneys on the same journey begin to feel like family even after just a few days. Especially when we’re all nerdy about the same or similar interests. It was cool to see the Indian highways through Cheryl’s transportation planner eyes. She snapped photos from the front aisle and kept a running commentary on tollbooths, bus stops and signage.
Ganesh, one of the more beloved Hindu deities, is the remover of obstacles and the deva of intellect and wisdom, and is thus (I declare) the God of Planning.

Way back in Delhi, a sign displayed the motto of the Indian Coast Guard: "We are swift, professional and humane." Wouldn’t that be a great slogan for a planning department?
Being at the Taj Mahal is a walking, waking dream state. Ecstasy by design, bliss shared with strangers, smiles exchanged.

The Rock Garden

The Rock Garden is like Caddilac Ranch or one of those other eccentric labors of love. The Rock Garden's creator spent 40 years collecting reusable building materials and constructing a winding path lined with mosaics, statues, walls, arches, waterfalls, pavilions, and bridges. It took an hour to walk through his forty years of work. I burned out my camera's batteries trying to capture the wonders of this place. If a picture is worth a thousand words, a Rock Garden is worth a thousand pictures:

Transported in Delhi

(Alice) The tomb of Iman Zamin at the Qutb Minar site in Delhi resolves its square base into a circular dome by virtue of the architectural device known as the squinch.

And a moveable feat of spatial resolution occurs in the relentless honking momentum of the Delhi traffic. A fragile autorickshaw will wedge into the rapidly disappearing space between two merging trucks, somehow assuming that it can move forward before it is annihilated. A car veers into oncoming traffic, confident that the impending head-on collision with a rapidly approaching bus will be avoided as both vehicles play chicken before swerving to within a few millimeters of other moving metal at the last possible moment. Every day in Delhi, carnage and dismemberment are routinely and skillfully avoided by timely fractions of an inch.

And what cannot be found along the streets of Delhi? Goats, chickens, cows, sheep and monkeys are there, along with beautifully-dressed women and all the rest of humanity. Near Indira Gandhi’s tomb, an elephant piled high with landscape trimmings lumbers down the road. Above, crazy tangled mazes of utility lines display a stratigraphy of what had worked then and now, with officially strung wires woven among the efforts of power pirates and dish wallas. Every situation is accommodated as needed, when needed, with the evidence of past accommodations not hidden or corrected. The traffic is a dynamic depiction of this Delhi skill for accommodation, as the stutter and flow of each vehicle organically weaves forward as a compliant whole.

Twelve years ago, the Delhi roads were populated with fleets of humpy old Ambassadors and diesel-spew from autorickshaws and long-haul trucks. The same roads are now plied by “clean fuel” buses and autorickshaws powered by CNG. The evidence of India’s exploding middle class is in the form of many more shiny late-model private cars. All the planning entities we met with in Delhi mentioned the need to build underground and multi-level parking facilities, currently in short supply. On the regional level, five integrated freight complexes and wholesale hubs are being developed beyond Delhi’s periphery so that long-haul truckers won’t come into Delhi in the first place: currently, many goods are trucked in from hundreds of miles out, not for consumption here, but to be re-packed and sent again on their way. “There is no need to bring the apples to Delhi to sort them out”, said one of our contacts at the School of Architecture and Planning.

­­­­­Mr.Shreedarharan, Director of Delhi Metro, is a rock star among transportation administrators. We meet with him in the world’s most palatial public agency building, a glass and stainless high-rise palace designed by Stein, Doshi and Bhalla. The Delhi Metro Rail Corporation is a joint venture of the Government of India and the Delhi Government, with heavy financial backing from Japan. The Metro Master Plan involves 12 lines and 420 km of passenger rail to be completed in 4 phases. The astonishing miracle this agency has pulled off is that Phase I was completed within budget ($2.1 billion) and 2 years ahead of schedule, with no operational subsidies. Ridership today is 900,000 passengers a day, which translates to 60,000 fewer vehicles playing chicken on the Delhi streets. Why has Metro been so successful? They are a young and lean independent agency with flexibility, good organizational values and a charismatic leader who knows his stuff and views contractors as partners. To cope with the pressures of timely performance, employees meditate and do yoga as part of the work day.

The next day, we ride the clean efficient product of their labors. It is a world-class subway line, with the only oddity being the hyper-security regime. Riders are electronically scanned and bags searched, and signs everywhere educate the Delhi citizenry in mass-transit protocol, which is hardly of the squinchy nature.

Meanwhile, above ground on the roads, the good people of the capital carry on with their talent for squinching square vehicles into tiny gaps and managing chaos with a flair. Redevelopment plans for the Old City include a proposed street redesign that would put traffic dividers between vehicular lanes and pedestrian lanes and create a separate bus lane. Having seen traffic routinely go the wrong way down the divided highway to Agra, I suspect that folks will continue to use the roads in whatever manner is expeditious at the time. There is exuberance and creativity to spare in this culture, but order does not appear to be the strongest of motivating factors. But you have to admire an urban street system that accommodates the occasional water buffalo or donkey-powered vehicle as well as behemoth luxury tourist buses; the organic forward motion of the traffic beast rumbles on. As befits a former British colony, the streets are also sometimes populated by those drinkers with a running problem, the Hash House Harriers. I may chase their rabbit in Mumbai…

Old Delhi

We took the Metro to the Delhi Old Town. It was just as dense as we expected, and just as crowded and messy as we expected. There were miles of electricity cables hanging from the buildings, garbage swept into reasonably neat piles on the side of the street, and zero cars. We walked through a mile of winding urban canyons ten feet wide and thirty feet tall, passing homes stores, and temples all along the way. The first floors were consistently retail - I have not seen such a dense concentration of retail except in San Francisco's Chinatown, and this urbanity comprised an entire town, not just a district. Only once we made it to Chandni Chowk, the main street of Old Town, did the area begin to look the least bit familiar. At least here the storefronts were at least as wide as they were tall, the street had two lanes and cars and buses to fill them, there were usable (and well used) sidewalks.

While on the main street of Old Town, we got two surprise invititations. One was from the owner of a Hawali. It was beautiful. It was full of antiques, had 12 foot ceilings, was three stories tall, had several courtyards, and had a usable roof that connected to the neighboring rooftops. Once in the Hawali, everthing seemed peaceful, even though we were still only 50 feet from the hustle and bustle of Chandni Chowk. The owner has been fighting the town, his family, and pressure to convert to commercial space for decades.

Our second invitation was from the Redevelopment Agency of Old Town. They want redevelopment without damaging the character of the area. They want to expand the pedestrian walks, and have an open tram that people can just hop on and off of. They want it to still feel like Chandni Chowk. They wants to avoid gentrification, and avoid moving wholesale trade outside of town (as the Master Plan would like) because that would reduce the type of activity that is a central feature of and purpose for Old Town. The acknowledge that goods movement in Old Town is difficult, even thought they are only using hand carts, and would like to try solving the difficulties through introducing one-way streets, public transportation, the tramway, and creating parking within walking distance of but just outside the core area. Tradition should play a role in which uses "belong" in old town and which can be comfortably moved out of town. The traditional balance of residential and commercial has been lost (since the indroduction of the two nearby railway stations in the mid 1800's), and that has caused some of today's problems. The Redevelopment Agency might support moving warehousing uses.

To support their redevelopment plans, they did a survey on the uses of every plot of land in old town. They are trying to identify the activities that should stay in Old Town, and which could be moved. They know it will be difficult to convince people and communities to relocate, so they are trying a two-pronged approach. First, they will try to move entire business clusters at once, so that related businesses and existing relationships can be maintained. Second, they are trying to demonstrate the benefits of relocation to those that might benefit from relocation, highlighting how better and newer infrastructure, and less traffic, might help them earn more money.

Old Town itself will get an upgrade, with possible undergrounding of utilities, and repair and upgrading of existing dilapidated buildings. The mentioned rent control as a reason for their being so many dilapidated buildings: Owners can't charge enough rent to cover repair costs, and tenants can't recover the benefit in the form of rent for any repairs they make. The result is that the owner's best strategy is to let the building deteriorate until the tenant moves out, at which time the owner can then build a new structure.

The School of Architecture and Planning

Immediately after our meeting with the Delhi Development Authority, we walked just a few minutes down the street to the School of Architecture and Planning. They worked with the DDA on the recent Master Plan. Some issues they were interested in addressing through the Master Plan were related to in-migration and homelessness, the focus of transportation infrastructure on Delhi, and on transitioning the lead on development from the public sector to the private sector.

The School professors were the only group we have spoken to that included what I would call political economy into their analyses. They were the ones who saw the value of "informal monetary transaction systems", where even large assets (like houses) are bought and sold with cash and trust instead of contracts. I spoke to one of the professors afterward and we both agreed that such high-trust systems are more efficient than systems that ultimately require lawyers. We were both concerned that if the fabric of the old city were ripped apart, it would destroy the face-to-face and regular personal contacts that allow informal and high-trust economies to exist.

The School professors were also the ones who suggested a connection between low carbon citites and low stress cities, pointing out that high carbon uses, like driving instead of walking, contribute to rather than relieve stress, and the higher densities that would reduce a town's carbon footrprint would also lead to more interpersonal interactions in towns, which would reduce stress.

They noted that the Master Plan is becoming more and more a policy document, but that Climate Change policies have not yet been fully integrated into it, or into Indian Planning more generally.