activefreemedia

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Hello friends, warm greetings from India (or, more accurately, freakin’ hot greetings from India). 

I thought I'd send out a report from my time here, to be enjoyed or ignored as you wish!

I’ve been here in New Delhi for a little over a month now.  It is often 110° F with 50% humidity so my work on global warming has shifted from altruism to self-interest!  (I am glad to say, though, that, in the last few days it has cooled significantly.) 

I’m working out of the offices of an Indian think tank called The Energy and Resources Institute on behalf of a large (officially anonymous) US foundation. I’ve been sent here because this foundation is considering starting a multi-million dollar sustainable energy and climate change project in India (among other options). I’m here to scope out the political landscape and get a sense of what the challenges and opportunities would be here if they chose to start a program like this.  The unfortunate irony, of course, is that countries like India will bear the worst impacts of climate change, even though they are not (yet) responsible for problem.   

So I’m working on this rather fancy project operating on a global scale—while in a nation with over a half billion poor people.  I have a nice desk in a fancy office building but on my way home I go right past the thatched-roof slums and street children.  It is more than enough to keep a man thinking, for sure.

Much of work involves interviewing academics, government officials, and NGO leaders.  Sometimes I put on my tie (though never jacket, too hot) and go off to meetings across the city.  This leads to a second contradiction as I find myself a dressed-up professional scurrying around the city in little three-wheeled auto-rickshaws.

The auto-rickshaws are something like a covered motorcycle with a short bench behind the driver.  As I don’t have a car, they are my transportation everywhere (a ride across the city costs about one dollar).  I spend a lot of time in them and have gotten to know some of the drivers.  I have an arrangement with a driver named Grushen who picks me up every day to go to work.  Delhi’s rickshaws were all converted from gasoline to compressed natural gas three years ago as part of a desperate anti-pollution measure mandated by the Indian Supreme Court.  It’s been quite successful and Delhi’s air is noticeably cleaner—however, “noticeably cleaner” is no grand statement, I’m sad to say, and my throat regularly burns from simply breathing.  I read somewhere that breathing Delhi’s air was equivalent to smoking a pack of cigarettes every day.

It’s almost impossible to walk anywhere, and not just because of the oppressive heat.  Delhi is a sprawling city, blessed by quite a few big parks and green spaces associated with government buildings—but cursed by distances that make it hard to form community.  In this way, it’s a strange combination of LA and DC.  There are regular articles in the paper about how young professionals consider Delhi a lonely city full of “existential angst” where it’s difficult to meet people.  I haven’t been here long enough to be able to tell (and it’d be hard to tell as a non-Indian) but my sense is that it is city where people keep to themselves. 

That’s generally fine with me, as I spend most of my evenings reading or writing or working late.  I have managed to make a few friends, both locals and fellow ex-pats--but, unfortunately, no deep connections yet and I admit missing you all (and others) in the US. 

I’m renting a room from a retired couple in a neighborhood called Jangpura.  Their children have moved away and they are very happy to have a foster child, even if just for a few weeks.  The only problem with this kindness is that the breakfasts they serve me are so large as to slow me down for a large part of each morning.  Every day, after eating as much as I possibly can, I return to my room, close the door, and collapse on the bed for a few minutes before heading to work.  Mr. and Mrs. Bhardwaj live in a pleasant but unostentatious apartment and have a servant who cleans my room every day.  I cannot complain at having such help, though I have realized here how I am uncomfortable with being fawned over by strangers. 

Food has been good: most of my lunches and dinners are in simple restaurants where I pay about $2 for a big plate of food and a lassi.  I’ve also had some real feasts at open-air roadside dhabas for about 50 cents.  I do, though, find that I’m slightly less adventurous than the last time I was here. I think it’s partly because I’m so busy with work, partly because I’m often carrying around my laptop, and partly because I’m becoming an old fogey.  No doubt Northern California is making me soft. 

I’'ve actually been asked by my employer to return a couple weeks little early to work on a second project.  I’m hoping it means that they’ve liked my work here!  So I’ll be back in Palo Alto on August 8th, after about six weeks here on the other side of the world. 

I’'m taking a weekend off to help lead a training of campaign staff that’s being held at Harvard Aug13-15th, for anyone who's in Boston.  I’m glad to have a couple days to work a little on the election.  Then it's back to non-partisanship for the rest of the summer.

I’'ve posted some pictures from my time here, view them if you’d like a visual companion to my ramblings. Also, here are some pictures of cows.

Stay well, everyone,

Jacob

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Jacob C. Harold
Stanford Graduate School of Busines