……..we drove 300 kilometres into the Odisha countryside before
I realized we had seen no woman out on her own. Not a single woman driver nor a
dhaba-owner. The women we saw were either in groups or accompanied by men. The only
unaccompanied women were the prostitutes at the truck stops……….
During my years in the US, I had seen almost an equal number
of drivers of either gender. In Telangana, I had seen women working at toll
booths and running dhabas…..
……the rural hinterland of West Bengal is relatively free of
plastic because people here are too poor to buy packaged rubbish……..
The gods of the Indian highways are not our usual Krishnas
and Ramas who resides in palaces and rule over a world with ghar sansar
and domesticity as the central themes. ……The gods revered along the highways
are the remote, rugged Shivji and the effervescent Hanuman……Though we see a
smattering of Devi temples, it is her consort Shiva who is ever-present.
……as we were entering India’s northeastern states, that we
began to see roads in real disrepair and highways getting more crowded. It was
on this stretch that we met some of the worst roads one might see in India. But
the silver lining was that there was road construction activity everywhere. ……people
told us that these were the first roadworks they were seeing in almost a
decade. The new government was bringing about changes that we in other parts of
India do not hear about ………
…….Assam………..i was awestruck by the clean mountain air and
relieved at the clean toilets and the spotless dhabas.
Motorcycling is one of the most gender-free passions……the
average biker….questions are gender-neutral and completely unbiased…..
Under the India-Myanmar Friendship Treaty unrestricted entry
is permitted within a 16-kilometre belt on either side. This may mean little to
people living elsewhere, but to those living along the border it opens up
possibilities.
…….on the Indian side, the villagers speak Hindi, English,
and Manipuri; and just 30 kilometres into Myanmar, the English is broken and
the Hindi absent.
…..Burmese women who caught my envious attention. I marveled
at their slight build, fine features, skin to die for, and glossy black hair.
Rural Myanmar, much like India’s northeast, was refreshingly
clean. The dhabas we stopped at and the toilets we used, whether attached to
the dhabas or in people’s homes, were invariably impeccably clean……humblest of
the houses, toilets would always have a bucket of water and a dustbin…….Mandalay,
on the banks of the Irrawaddy, is a city of golden spires glistening in the sun,
with charming people who do not honk on the roads. Even their vehicles were
gentler: no sound and fury, no fume-spewing autos and carriers (apparently
their fuel is of better quality), no overloaded trucks and buses……….Orderliness
and a quiet discipline is the hallmark of the Burmese. From all reports,
Myanmar has average levels of literacy. Yet, the country is kept scrupulously
clean with regularly swept streets, ubiquitous garbage cans, covered food, no
standing water, or visible piles of garbage. ……..The cows were familiar though.
They had the same lovely eyes, the same colours of coat, and the same placid
manner of cud-chewing and little care for traffic as the ones back home……..density
in Myanmar is only abut 82 persons per square kilometer compared to 457 persons
per square kilometer …….Driving through the mountain passes and cutting through
the country on the approach to Thailand took us through pristine forests. Every
time I thought that this was easily the most picturesque place we had crossed
so far, we would turn a corner to a yet more charming view.
………Keng Tung, a small town surrounded by mountains about 150
kilometres from Tachilet on the Myanmar-Thai border…..selling….even Bollywood movie
CDs dubbed in Burmese! Akshay Kumar seemed to be the local favourite.
Thailand announced itself with its smooth roads, far higher
traffic speeds, and strict lane discipline ……..The pleasure of driving through
Myanmar’s pristine silence was replaced by the boisterous vivacity of Chiang
Rai’s urban landscape…….Unlike the more demure Burmese, the Thai motorists engaged
with us more readily at traffic signals. ………Our motorcycles were also not the
largest vehicles on the road any more. The Thai are known to be fond of heavy
two-wheelers…….on their fabulous roads.
Laos was a surprise……..our ingress from the north……the
country’s seductively virginal landscape – population density of 27 persons per
square kilometre – captivated us: mountainous roads winding through unspoilt
jungles, lush paddy fields, picturesque villages. Every turn on the wondrous
mountain ranges, plains, and plateaus revealed a surprise……this country of
myriad ethnicities in the gentle heart of the Southeast Asian peninsula……..the
bloody history of the country in the recent past. Between 1964 and 1973, the US
dropped 2 million tons of bombs on Laos, nearly equal to the 2.1 million tons
it dropped on Europe and Asia during World War II. Up to a third of those bombs
failed to explode and today remain scattered throughout the country, rendering
vast swathes of land impossible to cultivate. They kill or maim close to a hundred
Laotians every year.
While western Myanmar felt remote and unconnected, traditional
and vernacular, Mandalay seemed to be turning cautiously modern. Thailand was a
visibly exuberant and glamorous economy, and Laos, hauntingly desolate with an
austere beauty.
………how the Chinese, the Thais, and the Vietnamese migrated,
warred, plundered, settled, and finally became Laos as we know today.
……….Myanmar had been pristine, Laos had seemed at peace, and
Thailand very sophisticated. But Vietnam was ruins, the result of tens of
thousands of bombs and several gallons of Agent Orange and napalm dropped by
the Americans to strip the forest cover. It left the rivers and farm land
poisoned and gifted the next generation with birth defects. The unexploded
landmines still kill a thousand people every year. The need to rebuild had cast
Vietnam in a state of terrifying industriousness. Every structure looked like
it was designed to be a sweatshop. This was a nation in a hurry to make up for
the time and work lost to war.
Almost nothing in the cities, towns and villages we passed was
made beautifully – except the tombstones. The Vietnamese carve stone and wood
well………….they had become a factory for the world. There were few gardens or interesting
houses. There were no pleasant touches that impart a certain warmth to a
country; instead there was a focused, frowning earnestness.
While the highways so far had been scrupulously clean, the
road to Hanoi was conspicuously not so. Almost all the roads we drove along now
were lined with industries, and the air smelt of chemicals. Vietnam had given
itself over to industry in order to manufacture a new future……the effects of an
extended war, pollution and landmines strewn over all of North Vietnam and
large parts of the rest of the country have lasted three generations. It was a
tragedy long enough for a people to lose large chunks of their tradition.
The traffic in Hanoi was a fantastic mess of two-wheelers. The
roads were swarmed by petite people on petite two-wheelers. Industrious,
sincere, determined they looked.
The Land of Million Elephants is what they call Laos. ……….Laos
has been a memorable experience. The least westernized of the countries we had
travelled through, its laid-back approach to life, the beautiful scenery dotted
with pagodas, its comfortable pace of life…..
Images of the twelfth-century temple Angkor Wat could be
seen anywhere – on the national flag.………The only country other than Cambodia to
have the image of a building – a mosque – on its flag is Afghanistan. Cambodia
wanted the word to recognize its identity through a living, ancient monument……
Thailand is clearly the most dynamic economy in the
Southeast Asian peninsula. It thrives on individual business enterprise, which
imparts to the country the vibrancy of a bustling marketplace…….its consumption-led
economy, strong middle class, and vibrant society were immediately evident. It’s
a complete contrast with the other countries in the region. War-torn Vietnam,
having a larger manufacturing base, was dotted with sweatshops. Cambodia seemed
to have only two classes: the rich and the just-above-subsistence class. The middle
class……..is significantly missing…….despite their economic limitations,
Cambodia and Vietnam afforded us great riding conditions. We made great time on
the fantastic Cambodian roads, averaging 130 kilometres per hour to the Thai
border…….Vietnam had even better roads: even the curves could be handled easily
at speeds greater than 100 kilometres per hour.
Movement across the borders for local people is seamless.
…….Thailand………..western style toilets are clean and aplenty……..There
were well-appointed toilets at every gas stations……the roads too were smooth
and lined with trees.
Once again in Myanmar I marveled at how clean the country
was, the abundance of usable simple toilets, and the pristine mountains.
Back on our side of the border, we saw not a trace of fish
oil and vinegar. How strange that a man-made border could wall off cooking
ingredients from foreign lands. In the Southeast Asian countries we rode
through, we found eating establishments mainly using soya sauce for seasoning.
Salt was a tough ask.
We had several cups of the strong, sweet tea so native to
all Indian roadsides. In no other country does one get this kind of tea, boiled
to death with milk and sugar.
What we need is more women on the streets engaged in
livelihood activities. Six weeks ago, I had felt their absence on the highway
through Odisha. But through our northeastern states and the South East
neighbours, I had seen women thronging the streets, markets and public places. I
had seen the confidence in their eyes and in the self-assured flick of their
wrists – handling vehicles, babies, and money with equal aplomb.
The filthy toilets we saw in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh were a
sharp reminder of the absence of women on the highways. They are absent because
they have very little work that requires them to travel…….In our travels all across
India’s northeast and Southeast Asia, we saw efficient, clean toilets and
confident women. We had seen women filling our fuel tanks in Myanmar, handling
dhabas in Manipur, collecting toll in Telangana. In Uttar Pradesh and Bihar
such women were conspicuous by their absence.
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