Cyber things in Hyderabad
Flying from Colombo to Hyderabad, the flight crossed Adam’s bridge. Stunning.
Adam’s Bridge is a chain of natural islets between India and Sri Lanka. Geological evidence suggests that the bridge was once a land connection between two countries. The Sanskrit epic Ramayana mentions a bridge constructed by the god Rama to reach the island Lanka and rescue his wife Sita from Ravana. Lanka is associated with Sri Lanka, and that bridge with Adam’s bridge.
Newer religions usurping earlier narratives, local muslim tradition holds that Adam’s Bridge was crossed by Adam following his expulsion from the Garden of Eden, after Adam had been placed on a mountain in Sri Lanka, following his expulsion.
Entering India was a reminder of how more authoritarian regimes handle control.
Besides that I had to obtain a visa, in the process of which I needed to disclose the names of my parents and wife, I also had to fill in a disembarkation card, something I haven’t done in, I believe, over a decade.
Here, I had to enter the name and address of my hotel, where my digital map only listed the name of the street, not the number. That was not enough. So I had to go online and figure out the actual address, as well as the phone number. Even though I had supplied this, too, when requesting a visa.
But, getting WiFi at Hyderabad airport requires you to register with a working phone number, which requires roaming to work. Or you can have a machine scan your passport, which then provides a login code for the WiFi.
The latter I had experienced elsewhere, but I don’t remember which authoritarian country that was in. Azerbaijan? Israel?
In Hyderabad, the architecture of the city was making me strangely uncomfortable. It was something about the dimensions of the buildings, and their relation to the open spaces between them, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Then, at the closing event of the WSA congress, I spoke to an Indian architect. I asked him what he had worked on in Hyderabad, and he looked up and pointed straight ahead to the construction on the other side of the road; “this building”.
I put my predicament to him, and I learned that, here, the height of a building is defined by the width of the road it’s on. This means that the relative dimensions of the city are always the same, as if photos are being upscaled in photoshop.
A consequence of this appears to be that, even when surrounded by massive buildings, you still can see for long distances, which adds to the somewhat surreal, perhaps futuristic, experience of being in Hyderabad.
This year’s WSA Congress was hosted by the Indian state of Telangana. Telangana is a fairly new state, having recently separated from the state of Andhra Pradesh, taking Hyderabad as its capital.
The state, in the middle of India, has a Muslim population of around 40%, and is wealthy, at least in part due to the prominence of, and rise in, IT services that operate from here, particularly from the area known as Cyberabad, which is also where the conference was hosted.
A few Indian states are ‘dry’ states, meaning no alcohol is served.
Telangana isn’t a dry state, but very few places serve alcohol. But, because this congress was hosted by the state, the excellent lunches and dinners were not served with anything alcoholic. In fact, the only drinks available were water, tea (thankfully no Nestea like in Sri Lanka), and coffee, though at the closing dinner, they also included mocktails and sodas.
All the food served was local, mostly vegetarian, and rather fantastic. And to accommodate the many foreigners at the event, only mildly spiced.
But, many of the guests from the Global North were not as impressed. Many couldn’t handle the mildly spiced food, and were worried as to whether the drinks might have tap water. A good amount leaving early after each dinner, to dash across the road to a popular brewery serving, obviously, beer, and typical pub food.
Meanwhile, though my hotel was fairly upmarket, the area around the hotel was a bit of a mess. But with such excellent local restaurants and such low prices. I several times couldn’t stop myself from having a wonderful late night dosa.
Leaving India, the immigration officer noted I had been in the country to attend a conference. “What was the name of the conference?”, he asked. “Digital, democracy and us”, I responded.
His colleague, sitting right next to him, looked up. “Digital democracy? Digital democracy?” I replied, “yes”. To which the first officer responded, “in India, no democracy.”