Green Pune, Clean Pune

"Green Pune, Clean Pune" is one of several slogans painted on walls and concrete barriers all over the city. Pune is famous for having one of the most, if not the most, organized and effective waste systems in India. As part of a project my advisor has me working on, I investigated Pune's waste cycle.


"Green Pune, Clean Pune" painted on a wall, ironically next to trash. Photo taken from Google Images.

In Pune, there are several different avenues municipal solid waste (MSW) can follow. Each housing society is served by two waste pickers who belong to the Solid Waste Collection and Handling Cooperative (SWaCH), an enterprise founded by the Kagad Kach Patra Kashtakari Panchayat, the trade union of waste pickers. Each home pays a monthly fee of Rs. 10 to 30 (depending on the area) for waste pickers to directly pick up trash from their homes. This miniscule monthly fee is not how waste pickers make their money, though. They earn cash in the scrap market. They sort the waste and sell the very valuable recyclables to scrap dealers, who in turn sell scrap to larger dealers or wholesalers. Some of these wholesalers then either sell the scrap to "super" wholesalers or process the scrap into usable plastic pellets for manufacturing. 

Perhaps the most interesting recycle-cycle is plastic bags, which are slowly being banned by cities around the world for being non-recyclable. World, take a good look at Pune. One large wholesaler mechanically cleans these bags then processes them into pellets, which are sold to an irrigation company to be melted and molded into drip irrigation pipes. Since the recycled plastic bags are an absurdly cheap material--there is no competing demand for them--the drip pipes are among the cheapest in the world and can be sold at affordable prices to smallholder farmers.

(Actually I still think banning these plastic bags is a good idea. But for cities that are still using them, don't give up hope on them being non-recyclable!)

Waste that does not end up in home trash cans likely ends up in dumpsters or in the streets. This more public garbage is taken care of by the Pune Municipal Corporation, which employs safai karmacharis (cleaning workers) to sweep the streets and empty the dumpsters and then sort all the waste. Organic ("wet") waste is sent to either biogas power plants to supply the city of Pune with electricity or to fertilizer production plants. Recyclable waste goes to recycling processing plants. Non-recyclables mostly go to incinerators or landfills, but Pune has been experimenting with using the waste as syngas fuel for electricity generation.

Large commercial entities such as malls have their own custodial staff who take care of the waste in various ways. Some shopping complexes sell their waste on the scrap market to wholesalers while others send the garbage to major recycling plants.

This whole process is illustrated in the figure I made below (click on the image to enlarge). I'm sorry it's confusing and busy; this is the first time I've attempted to create such a diagram. Two caveats: (1) that process is what ideally happens and (2) that figure excludes the non-unionized waste pickers who go to the landfills to scavenge. A lot of trash slips through the cracks of the system, and the non-unionized waste pickers try to recover some of the valuable recyclable waste that has slipped through. This figure might imply that 100% of recyclables end up recycled, but that's not true. In Pune, almost 50% of plastics end up recycled. But keep in mind that is still extremely high: in the US about 8.2% of recyclable plastics get recycled. (Source.)


Pune's waste cycle. Click on image to enlarge.
Whenever I talk about waste management in India, I like to recall a story from December 2009, when my brother Ben and his friend Joel visited me in Delhi. We went on a trip to northeast India, and on our way back we passed through Kolkata. Ben ate a banana and could not find any trash can to discard his peel. After having seen tons of garbage in the streets (Kolkata can sometimes be particularly dirty), he decided to simply drop the peel where he was standing, in the middle of a plaza. An Indian man came over to Ben and started yelling at him not to throw his trash on the ground. Ben, of course, was exasperated: "Have you seen your streets? You have no right telling me not to litter when you treat your streets like landfills. Everyone else in this filthy city is littering. What am I supposed to do with my trash if there are no trash cans?"

But if you looked around more carefully, you would realize there was not a piece of garbage in the plaza itself--but tons of trash piling up in the streets lining the plaza's border. Street sweepers, like those safai karmacharis in Pune, pick up the trash in the street, but not in the plaza. Thus, Ben should have added his banana peel to an existing pile in the street, rather than dropping it anywhere. However, this is not obvious to an outsider who doesn't know anything about India's waste system and sees waste strewn about in a seemingly indiscriminate way. And really, Ben was right in a sense. It is unhygienic to allow trash to pile up in streets, even if street sweepers or waste pickers will come by later to collect it. Not to mention that it's far from aesthetically or aromatically pleasing.

So yes, the streets of India often appear filthy. When you walk around, you have to watch your feet lest you step in garbage (...or cow dung). But it's important to keep in mind that this littering is part of the waste system, and in fact, putting waste into the hands of professionals, rather than hoping the average citizen can sort his or her waste properly, results in higher recycling rates, as witnessed in Pune.

As I have learned again and again, nothing in India (or anywhere, really) is as it seems on the surface. It's too easy to judge and make assumptions based on first impressions, especially when those impressions are as strong as smelly piles of trash in the street--but those assumptions will almost always be wrong. We have to delve deeper to understand what's actually going on (and we probably still won't fully understand; I certainly have much more to learn!).

Community Destruction Day

I was looking through my old posts, and found this little gem from back in January that for some reason I forgot to publish:

Electricity goes out quite frequently in my office in Shanan. The power outage usually lasts anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 or 3 hours. But one time, back in October, the power went out for the entire day. During a power outage, we cannot do work because, obviously, the computers are off. Instead of working, this is what happens:

some people read the Hindi newspaper

others sit around looking badass

and some people gossip (shh! don't tell!) and laugh

and others pretend to do work (here, Harsh and Mudit are translating something into Hindi that has already been translated)

and some go crazy with the boredom

but really, I have no idea what's going on.

On this particular day, our boss decided that if we couldn't do work, we might as well do something else useful: Community Clean-Up Day. People in Shanan litter, so we should pick up the trash. Sounds like a good idea, right?

Wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

I knew something odd was up when a coworker grabbed a box of matches before going outside. Matches meant fire. And why was fire necessary for picking up litter? Oh no, I thought. They're going to burn the trash! Because that's environmentally-friendly. I grabbed my pollution mask in preparation. And it was a good thing I did, because my suspicions were right: people threw the trash they had picked up into an ever-growing fire.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, my coworker Dinesh came running toward us wielding a machete. Where did he get a machete? And why did he require a machete in the first place? To my horror, I watched as he started hacking at a tree.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" I yelled in English, too shocked to think in Hindi.

But Dinesh could not hear me over the roar of the fire.

"I think he's cutting down the tree," Shatabdi explained.

"Yes BUT WHY?!" I cried.

"I... don't know."

Then Harsh and Negi explained, "there is a lot of trash in that tree."

So let's get this straight. Instead of picking out the individual pieces of trash from the branches, Dinesh decided it would be more efficient to CUT DOWN THE TREE.

Wait, I think we need to back up even more. The goal of the day's activities was to clean up the environment. Instead of helping the environment, we were KILLING it. Oh, so that tree has a lot of trash in it? I have a brilliant idea! Let's just get rid of the tree altogether! Then surely the trash will be gone too! ...I guess that logic makes sense. Except that I thought we were ridding the environment of trash to save the trees?! Cannot. Comprehend.

Now, cutting down the tree was not enough. As I have mentioned earlier, the standard way to dispose of garbage is to burn it. Since there was trash in this tree, naturally the tree must also be kindled. The tree that never should've been cut down in the first place. The tree that, if it must be burned, could have been at least utilized to fuel a traditional stove.

The tree, though small, is still a tree. The fire grew quite large and probably threatened the surrounding houses, fields, and natural vegetation, hence threatening not only the environment, but also people's shelter and livelihood. But the worst was the immense amount of smoke. The entire village became enshrouded in it. Even my pollution mask was rendered useless as the smoke from the forest-and-trash fire penetrated through its filter and into my lungs. Great for people's health. Basically, Community Clean-Up Day had very quickly become Community Destruction Day.

Dinesh pushing the tree down the hill after his final chop, amid the smoke from burning trash

burn, baby, burn! felled tree on fire

final scene of destruction: trash and tree burning

All this turned out not to matter, because a construction project that started in December has completely leveled that hill. Nothing is left but a pile of brown dirt. [NOTE: Since January, that pile of brown dirt has become a paved parking lot for bus servicing and repairs.]

At the time, I was furious. Like tomato-red-face, steam-coming-out-of-ears (or was that just smoke from the burning trash?) furious. But now I cannot retell this story without laughing like a crazed hyena. Seriously. I could barely type this post I was laughing so hard. I'm sure there's some lesson to be learned from all of this, but I'm not quite sure what that lesson is.

Hello old neighbors, and hello toilet wind! (Or, my return to Delhi)

I'm back. Back in Delhi, that is. Was I sad to leave my beloved South India? No. Was I excited to return to Delhi, where I have a home and (at least a slight semblance of) a social life? No.* When I left Thiruvananthapuram, I felt oddly emotionless. Usually I feel something when I leave a place, even if it's only for a short time. But nope, nothing. Weird.

*This is not to say I wasn't excited to see my friends. Of course I was. I just wasn't feeling particularly excited about the prospect of returning to Delhi in general.

I had a flight at death o'clock in the morning from Thiruvananthapuram (woke up at 3:45am. Most painful moment of my life). When the flight descended into Delhi, I almost vomited at the sight. I swear, it took very bone in my body to not dry heave right there on the plane. Despite Delhi being a humongous city, I could barely see the buildings, only a faint outline. All I saw was gray. Gray pollution. It was like descending into a smoke stack or exhaust pipe. Suddenly my emotionless self was filled with emotions of "uuggghh why is this where I live?!" and dread of landing and actually entering this polluted city.

My feelings quickly changed when I got to my apartment (though not about the pollution). It was great to see Sam again and to be home. Yes, my apartment really feels like home to me, and one of my favorite feelings in the world is arriving home after being gone for a while.

I decided I needed to get some returning-home errands done. I needed a Sri Lanka guidebook (obviously this was an immediate need. I mean, who doesn't need a SL book?), but the only good bookstore I know of is in Khan Market. As some of you know, the US, UK, Canadian, and Australian embassies have issued warnings of an "imminent terrorist attack" in Delhi's major markets--including Khan. Luckily, I have a roommate who researches South Asian terrorism for a living. Sam assured me that the attack would only occur between the hours of 5 and 8pm or on the weekend, because the terrorists want to kill as many people as possible. No point in attacking an empty market at 2pm on a weekday. In other words, if I wanted to go and not die, I had to go right then. So I did, and I'm still alive!

To get to Khan Market, I of course had to take an auto. Now, I had not taken an auto in a city where I can kind of speak the language in a month. In Kerala, the autowallahs only speak Malayalam, so my Hindi was rendered useless and I couldn't even hope to bargain. But here autowallahs speak Hindi! I cannot tell you how happy I was. A humongous goofy grin appeared on my face when I spoke the first Hindi words in a month. I giggled my way through the bargaining. The autowallah was utterly confused about why I was so happy-go-lucky. I think he thought I was high. And I was--high on Hindi! Hah. I got him down to Rs 30--only Rs 5 above the meter (that's the best anyone, including Indians, can hope for in Delhi). Apparently, I haven't lost my mad auto bargaining skillz!

After cheating death in Khan Market, I headed to Bhogal for some shopping and threading. I passed the auto pimp's autostand, and all the autowallahs started yelling at me, "Hello madam! आप कहाँ थी? [Aap kahan thi?/where were you?]" "मैं काम के लिए केरला में थी। [Main kaam ke liye Kerala mein thi./I was in Kerala for work.]" " बहुत अच्छा! हम खुश हैं कि आप वापस आई! [Bahut achchha! Ham khush hain ki aap vaapas aayi!/Very good! We're glad you came back!]" I had pretty much identical conversations with the tailor, the threading ladies at the beauty parlor, the guys at Kadimi's (my favorite samosa place), and the convenience store owner. It was really nice that people remembered me and seemed happy to see me--it makes the neighborhood feel like home. I love Jangpura!

What I did not love, however, was the incredible amount of dust flying into eyes and covering my body this afternoon. Apparently I arrived back in Delhi just as the Loo is descending upon the city. And by "the Loo is descending," I do not mean a giant British toilet is raining shit on Delhi--though I'm not sure that would be much worse. The Loo is a dry westerly wind bringing in extremely high temperatures and mountain-loads of dust from Rajasthan's Thar Desert, and it occurs for a few hours every afternoon from May until the start of the monsoon in June. Some days the Loo will bring in so much dust it will create the illusion of an overcast sky. Oh, you thought the dark sky was clouds? Or at worst pollution? Wrong. It's DUST. And it's going to invade your apartment. Everything in my apartment is covered in a thin film of dust--despite daily dusting efforts--and I've read that we should put wet towels over our windows to reduce the dust when the Loo gets really bad. I've also read that we should not go outdoors during the afternoon Loo hours. It's only beginning and not terrible yet, but at its worst many animals and people die from heat exhaustion/strokes. The Loo is like the opposite of a cool sea breeze; it's the hot breeze of death. You can learn more about India's toilet wind on the all-knowing Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loo_%28wind%29 (yes, I know, I reference Wikipedia way too often on this blog. I fully intend to continue to do so.)

[On a tangent: I would like to summarize Delhi weather for you:

December to February: cold winter (remember, no central heating in buildings) with fog so thick planes are grounded, trains move at a snail's pace, and I can't find my way home at night because I can't see across the street (not to mention the increase in pollution)
late Feb - mid March: a few rare weeks of pleasant weather
mid March - June: ridiculously hot summer, with temperatures reaching 120 degrees F and a daily afternoon hot dry wind carrying copious amounts of dust that can literally darken the sky and cause fatal heat exhaustion
June - September: monsoon season, with sticky humidity and heavy rains that flood the streets (except last summer when the monsoon was weak and Delhi stayed ridiculous dry and hot)
October: still pretty hot
November: the only pleasant month temperature-wise, but the pollution starts to get worse

To summarize the summary: fog/smog, heat the temperature of Hell, dust storms, street floods. In conclusion, Delhi may very well have the worst weather on the planet.]

However, with the Loo comes mango season! Well, actually, the wind doesn't bring suspended or flying mangoes like it does dust particles. But the start of mango season just so happens to coincide. The main street of Bhogal is crawling with vendors selling mangoes and "mango shek" (mango shakes). Rumor has it the mangoes of early May aren't very good (don't ask me why, I don't understand these agricultural matters), but by late May they should be delicious!

Tonight I ate pizza and watched Zoolander with Alice and Pooja (neither of them had seen it!! I know, completely unacceptable. Though Pooja couldn't get into the silly humor). You know that scene where Zoolander is being brainwashed and Mugatu pretends to be a little girl who loves child labor? And he mentions a bunch of countries that employ child labor while map outlines of those countries pop up? When he mentions India, the map outline includes Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, and Bhutan, despite mentioning Bangladesh separately! It also appears that Mongolia is included in the China map. I can't believe I never noticed this before, and I wonder if it's intentional or a mistake. See for yourself (pause at 1:32):



Anyway, obviously pizza + Zoolander + friends = the best evening I've had in a long time.

So I guess I'm happy to be back in Delhi? Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say happy (did I mention the pollution and toilet wind??), but it's nice to be back.

Delhi *is* cold!

This article describes my current life perfectly:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/15/world/asia/15delhi.html

But you know what? Delhi is cold. Here's why:
  • Buildings in Delhi are built to keep out heat and retain cold for the insanely hot summers (120 degrees--not looking forward to that at all!). Marble floors are not exactly ideal for cold weather. This means it is actually colder indoors, and during the day the cold from the previous night does not escape. It is 40 degrees inside my apartment at all times.
  • There is no indoor central heating. Anywhere. I bought a measly space heater, but it doesn't help much. The heater doesn't even blow air. It just has two orange-red bars and kind of looks like the inside of a toaster oven. It's basically cooking the air immediately surrounding it. I have to sit directly in front of it to feel any heat. (This is why the outer plastic shell of my laptop monitor melted.)
So you may think you're tough surviving subfreezing temperatures in the US. But let me ask you this: how much time do you actually spend in those temperatures? The five minutes it takes to walk from a heated building to a heated car? Sounds like you're living in a comfortable 72 to me! Try living 24 hours in 40 degrees, and I think you'll understand why Delhiites are so cold. (Now if you're in the Himalayas and suffering 24 hours in subzero temperatures, you have legitimate reason to think we're all wimps in Delhi.)

Also, that article's description of the pollution is spot-on. All these street bonfires mix with exhaust fumes and the winter fog to create the most disgusting smog I have ever seen in my life. This makes LA's air look clean! Even my pollution mask is powerless against this smog. I literally cannot breathe. Sometimes I wonder how I'm still alive.

I'm planning to escape the cold and pollution by going to Orissa next weekend. I can't wait to relax on the beach! It's been way too long since I saw a large body of water.

Current Weather Forecast


Yes, SMOKE is in the official weather forecast. And don't you love Weather.com's lovely smoke graphic? The pollution has become significantly worse in the past few days. And I hear this is nothing compared to the winter, when everyone is burning wood to heat their homes. I swear I'm going to develop all sorts of lung diseases.

FAQ

People keep asking me the same questions, so now I'm going to answer them.

How is work?
Let's just say there is a reason I haven't discussed work on my blog: some of my coworkers have discovered it. I have been unhappy with the project I'm assigned to for a variety of reasons I really shouldn't post online. However, I had a good meeting with my boss today and I think things are going to improve. When they do, I'll blog about work.

How is your roommate?
Sam (short for Samantha) is awesome. She's from Berkeley, graduated Princeton in 2008 and spent this past year getting a masters in War Studies at King's College in London. She studied insurgencies and terrorism (yup, she's pretty badass). She is in Delhi to work for the Center for Policy Research and is looking at Lashkar-e-Taiba, the Pakistani terrorist group that carried out the attacks on Mumbai last November. Her father is Mexican, mom Jewish. It's pretty funny that we're both Jewish, and we hope to host some Friday night Shabbos dinners. Someone should send us matzah ball mix! And she is ridiculously tall: 5'10" (we look pretty silly standing next to each other). Is that enough information for you?

We get along really great, or at least I think so. She has never been to India before, and I have been really impressed with how well she's handled the culture shock (much better than I did my first time, for sure). I love that she is super open to learning everything she can about India, even though she came here knowing relatively little (or so she claims). I think we're going to have a fun time living together!

Is your Hindi improving?
My auto Hindi is pretty good. I can bargain completely in Hindi with an autowallah. However, that is about the only Hindi I get to practice and otherwise it hasn't improved much. Yesterday, I started Hindi lessons. I now have two-hour lessons three times a week (twice at 7am before work, which means waking up at 6! but I think it's worth it).

What is your daily routine?
8:00am: Alarm goes off. Hit snooze.
8:05am: Hit snooze.
8:10am: Hit snooze.
8:15am: Drag myself out of bed. Take a shower and get ready for work.
9:10am: Get an auto. My regular autowallah disappeared, but there is still a minimal exchange of words. Katrina, another American who works at TERI and lives in Jangpura, often shares the auto with me. The autowallahs recognize us.
9:25am: Arrive at work. (The workday starts at 9:30am).
9:28-9:45am: Check email.
9:45am-1:00pm: "Work." Often involves a trip to the first floor (I'm on the second floor) to chat with Will, Anand, or Joel (the Canadian) and gchatting with both American friends and coworkers (everyone is on gchat all the time. It's really bad). Plus some actual work in between.
1:00pm-1:40pm: Lunch time. It's really only supposed to be until 1:30pm, but most people take a little longer. I often go to a place in the market behind the India Habitat Center (IHC, where TERI is located) with Katrina. The dal there is incredible. Or I can order a tiffin to be delivered to TERI and eat with a bunch of coworkers in the office.
1:40pm-5:30pm: "Work." See above.
On some days, at some point during the "work" time, I take a tea break with some of my coworkers, usually Will, Anand, and Jay. But I have yet to actually drink tea because I keep forgetting to bring a mug to work. So I just hang out or bring my water bottle and get made fun of for not drinking tea.
5:37pm: Leave building. Go to the street to get an auto. This can take anywhere from 2 to 45 minutes. I'm usually home by 6:30pm.

My nights vary a lot. I spend some parked in front of the TV watching Friends, going out with Sareeta, on Skype, or going to a cultural event (Ramlila during Navratri, for example, or to a show, such as classical Indian music, at the IHC). But I probably spend most nights at home. I like to do absolutely nothing after work.

What do you eat? Do you cook?
Unfortunately, no, I still don't cook. But I really want to learn! I have been eating a lot of bread and peanut butter, crackers and cheese, and cereal. Some nights I order Indian food to be delivered, because almost every restaurant will deliver to your door free of charge. I bought dosa batter and hope to cook masala dosa one day soon.

Is the pollution really that bad?
Yes. Delhi is dirty--pollution and dust to the extreme. I often find it difficult to breathe, and I can feel that my skin is coated in a layer of grime. My face has turned into a strawberry with ginormous blackheads, and I often break out into coughing fits. My mom sent me a carbon-filter mask for pollution, and I wear that in an auto (as I think I mentioned in a previous post, when you are sitting in traffic the open sides provide zero protection against the pollution). I think it helps a little bit, but unclear how useful it really is.

What about the poverty? Is it totally in your face?
Yes and no. The poverty doesn't feel as in-my-face as in other places in India. But there are beggars everywhere. With malnourished, possibly-dying babies or purposely-mutilated children. Coming up to my auto and sticking their hands into the vehicle. The most difficult part of my day is taking the auto home from work and concentrating on the back of the autowallah’s head so as not to turn around to acknowledge the beggar—because it’s too painful to look at their emaciated bodies, unwashed hair, dirty clothes, and worst of all, sick babies. It really pains me to know I’m forcing myself to become immune to them and their suffering, like I did my first time in India. It makes me feel so inhuman. But I don’t think I could go on living my life in India without going insane if I dwelled on it. Do I ever give them money? No, because what you saw in Slumdog Millionaire is often true: many beggars give their money to gangs, and that would only perpetuate the problem. If you want to help, give your money to an appropriate NGO instead. One time I did give a woman with a malnourished baby a bottle of water, and another time I gave a granola bar. I think giving food is ok, but I do not give money. But more often than not I try my hardest to ignore them (or at least act as if I’m ignoring them so they go away). Honestly, though, I don't think the poverty is as bad in South Delhi as in other parts of Delhi (South Delhi is mostly a very nice area), or as bad in Delhi as in other parts of India.

Any traveling?
I went to Orchha and Gwalior for Gandhi's birthday weekend (see previous posts). I'm heading to Bangalore this weekend to celebrate Diwali with Angela and hang out with Pema, a friend from Bhutan. Next weekend I'm taking PiA is paying for me to take their first gap-year student (between high school and college) to Agra (can you say free trip to the Taj?). The following weekend I have Monday off for Guru Nanak's birthday, so I'm trying to go somewhere in the Himalayas for the three-day weekend. After that, I have no concrete plans. At some point I will visit Prashanth in the village he's working in (he works for an NGO in a village near Indore, Madhya Pradesh) and meet up with Angela again, this time in her original hometown of Hyderabad. In December or January I might go to Chennai for the annual music/dance festival and to meet up with some Pondy Uni friends. So, even though I have zero vacation time for the first six months, I am managing to fill up some weekends with travel.

Can I visit?
YES!! Please do! (Ok, I made up this FAQ. No one has asked me that. But you really should!)

I hope I have answered all the questions. Keep 'em coming!