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Infrastructure of questionable intellect

On a long walk beneath the elevated highway abutting the Jialing River, one will naturally encounter people settled in varying degrees of formality, with a particularly sharp contrast between the different worlds above and beneath it. Above is the world of ultra-lux highrises with million-kuai views surrounded by cranes and the accompanying rubble of rapid construction. Beneath the highway, a contextually adjusted version of prosperity hinges upon something as seemingly trivial as access to water that comes out of a PVC pipe off of the road above.

Those who dwell beneath this particular stretch of elevated highway have developed a few methods for off-grid subsistence. For example, water that drips through the cracks in the concrete overhead or flows from plastic drainpipes overhead is collected in buckets and used for drinking, homemade fertilizer production (brewed in a repurposed bathtub, in this case), and irrigating small gardens. The often lush and orderly rows of the vegetable patches beneath the highway stand in contrast to the jumbled nature of the nearby residences which are formed primarily from scavenged construction materials and wedged amidst piles of rubble.

Judging by the clustering of water vessels both around the highway’s few formal drainage pipes and the bases of the support columns upon which rivulets tended to form, there seems to be a potential argument for the design of more formal water outlets into the highway – that is, assuming that urban gardening on unused land is something Chongqing’s city planners desire to promote (perhaps assuming too much). Framing this as the optimal deployment/recycling of resources, does it count as an element of a "smart city" if it is "accidentally smart"? It worked for penicillin, I suppose.

Context glimpse

Dry market; Chongqing, China.

Urban garden fencing

Across from (unsurprisingly) an auto repair shop. A barrier remains a barrier, though what is being repelled (and from what) has changed.

Chopping apparatus

Most people who cultivate corn in these parts of the Dry Zone outside of Mandalay save their cornstalks after harvesting. The purpose of storing, drying, and then chopping the stalks is to convert them into cattle feed, either to feed to their own animals or to sell to others.

The chopping machine itself was built by a craftsperson named U Ba Maung over a decade ago in Mandalay's industrial zone, and cost 200,000 kyat (at the time of manufacture around $150). The "Wuling" brand Chinese-manufactured engine powering the machine cost the operator another 400,000 kyat (around $300 when he purchased it) at approximately the same time ten years ago. He mobilized the entire setup by mounting the engine and machine on a cart so that a pair of cattle may pull it. With the cost of the wooden cart totaling 600,000 kyat (~$450) the entire venture set him back around the equivalent of $900. He borrows the cattle of a friend or arranges to have the cattle of those hiring him for his services transport the machine from his house/workshop to the job site.

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Spare parts for the chopping machine and engine may be gotten in Mandalay, with some fabricated domestically and others shipped in from China. Over the years he’s had to make plenty of creative repairs to keep his contraption running, including his routine sharpening of the chopping blade (here you can see him using a sharpener made in India for the task) and the creation of a fuel tank for the engine out of what used to be a container for a cleaning product fitted with a hose and gasket. His next big plan is to purchase a new motor for the machine with this season's proceeds and use the engine pictured here to generate electricity for his home.

Coconut planter

Seen at a monastery nearby to the General Hospital in downtown Yangon.

Hmawbi vegetable vendors

A pair of vegetable sellers (father and son) with a day's harvest from their relative's 50-acre plot of land in Hmawbi (a far-out Yangon suburb). They ride the "circle train" into downtown with their vegetable cargo (the train circumnavigating Yangon and presently under negotiation to be privatized). The pair make the trip about once every four days to sell throughout downtown. They sell all year round, with the patriarch handling the fruits (bananas and pomelos today) and his camera-shy progeny carrying the vegetables (bitter gourd, string beans, mushrooms, cucumber, and something green and stringy).  They have routine customers, usually restaurants, with whom they often trade vegetables to for a combination of prepared food and cash income (the scarcity of small change and low-denomination bills makes such in-kind transactions between people who have a long-standing business relationship commonplace).