How They Get Around

by Colin Wright
on November 29th, 2011
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In the United States, we place a great deal of significance in the cars we drive. Our sense of independence and focus on standing out as individuals pushes us toward having the freedom and prestige that comes with owning a car, and owning one that says something about the person driving it. Even those who don’t own cars tend to do so in a way that expresses something about them: “I’m riding this bike because I’m such-and-such,” or “I’m walking because I’m a so-and-so.”

This yardstick translates well from country to country.

On the South Island of New Zealand, you find a lot of very sturdy, hardy cars that can churn through the steepest pile of rubble or wade through water that comes up to the windshield. This penchant for practical vehicles mirrors the locals’ approach to problems: “This is a problem, I’m going to solve it, get me my tools. If you can’t find the tools, I’ll use my hands.”

I’m currently living in Kolkata, India, and the transportation system here speaks volumes about the local cultures, especially in regards to the sheer variety that call this city their home.

There are big, fancy cars, of course, but there are also rundown older cars, with cobbled-on doors and hubcabs of differing styles and levels of quality. There are formations of bulbous, yellow taxis occupying the roads, weaving around the cities and backcountry in chaotic patterns.

Then there are the buses, packed to the brim with writing arms and legs and the owners of said limbs, lumbering through intersections and pulling over seemingly at random. Filling the space between the cars are contingents of scooters and motorbikes, swerving dangerously into any open crack in traffic, sometimes carrying 2 or 3 or 4 people on one seat.

Then there are the rickshaws.

Weaving around with a scooter-motor and three-wheels are the auto-rickshaws (or ‘autos,’ as the locals call them). With their bright green and yellow coloration and sputtering engines, they’re another ever-present site on the Kolkata streets. Next are the bike-rickshaws, followed by the plain-old human-powered rickshaws, intended to allow a man to pull a man (or two) short distances cheaply.

Each and every mode of transportation represents a different aspect of society, and does so with great metaphorical (but also sometimes literal) accuracy.

The fancy cars — be they thick-plated sedans or looming Land Rovers — are driven by the elite of the country; the moneyed few who are able to afford not just the car, but the petrol to fill it with and a place to keep it (not to mention the perpetual car washes that are necessary to keep it clean on the dirty Indian roads). Some people drive themselves, but many are guided by hired drivers; another expense that limit the number of people who are able to afford the luxury of a privately-owned car.

The rundown older cars tend to be driven by the small middle class in Kolkata, or by groups of people (like families) who pool their resources in order to maintain their mobility.

The taxis bear both rich and middle class, though the poor tend to avoid them, as the prices keep going up, and there are so many other modes of transport available. For their part, taxis in Kolkata tend to be driven by a class just below those who are able to ride in them.

Buses and motorbikes tend to be the main mode of transport for the vox populi, and both display the downsides that go with that level of society as well: either you risk your life to shuttle between the big-wigs, unnoticed, or you cram yourself into a crowd, just another nameless face in a sea of nameless faces.

The rickshaws — auto and otherwise — are the bottom-rung way to travel in Kolkata, though depending on what part of town they’re in, you might find wealthier people hopping on to take a tour or get home faster, if a taxi isn’t available, or won’t drive them such a short distance. In either case, the options are more limited, as they are for the poorer people in this city.

Pay attention to what options are available next time you land in a new country: you can learn a lot about a culture just by paying attention to how they get around

Colin Wright

Colin Wright is a minimalist, branding expert and serial entrepreneur. While running his blog Exile Lifestyle ,his branding studio Colin Is My Name and his e-publishing business ebookling. Colin travels the world (moving to a new country every 4 months), meeting up with amazing people, giving talks (to audiences ranging from tech industry professionals to college students to Catholic school girls) and hunting down new and interesting experiences.