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Day 2 – Inside

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Inside the corrugated fence, building an underground car park, Delhi style. What used to be a park square with shops all round is now a huge hole in the ground. The shops are still there, the road around it is still there and on one side the fence has fallen into the hole meaning the edge of the road is now a perilous drop into the bowels of the Earth. The digger driver, perched at an acute angle, didn’t seem to care he might, any moment, topple down into the pit below. Nor did he seem to care if the bucket was getting within inches of the crazy Westerner stood on the edge of the drop, with cars brushing close behind, crumbling earth beneath the feet and 20 tons of steel swinging closer.
For over two years the park has been closed and cordoned off, with little work going on to build an unneeded car park, funds and contract given to politician’s friends, it only needed to look like something was happening, putting signs up saying ‘MCD Car Park’ would suffice and holidays could be paid for. Next year is election year, lo and behold work starts, on the cheap, corners cut and safety doesn’t enter the equation. Migrant workers’ huts perch on the edge of the precipice, where they sleep and cook, when not toiling long days of hard graft for less than the legal minimum wage. Trucked in from afar they have little choice than to accept less than promised, to complain means a sacking, not given monies owed and abandoned with nothing, in a strange city, far from home. Life inside the corrugated fence.

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