That he was on holiday did not stop the UK electrical engineer from
burbling enthusiatically on the dangers of electricity; the Australian
sparky he was conversing at was less effusive. Their group and mine
were sharing a bus back from the Mekong River to Saigon, and the ride
back was filled with talk of skin resistance (drops to zero when wet),
the merits of UK plugs (the ground pin is longer than the others and
the shaft of the pins are insulated), what to do when you dig up
electrical cables (get the hell out of the hole - supply of electricity
will resume shortly) and suchlike. Most of the rest of the bus sat
cringing in silent laughter, as though he'd been providing Too Much
Information on something completely anorakish like twitching or trainspotting. I found it rather interesting (but then I am anorak) and
having once allegedly done a year and a half of Computer/Electrical
Engineering (that's what it says on the inglorious academic transcript)
I was at least able to follow along and interject vaguely sensible
questions.
There is no shortage of electrical dangers for a traveller to get
passionate about: catenaries of loosely strung cable threatening to
garotte pedestrians of average height, spliced wires in bathrooms (most duct-taped but some just twisted bare copper), strangling vines
slowly wrestling poles and cables to the ground, second-storey
residents drying their washing on adjacent telephone lines, or even
just the general lack of ground pins on most electrical equipment.
In
Sauraha, many houses had gerry-rigged connections to the power lines.
This was usually just a couple of hooks strung over the upper and lower
power line, perhaps attached to a piece of bamboo to keep things
stabilised and easily removable. In Kolkata, there are actually signs
which urge the reporting of power theft.
Compared with elsewhere, blackouts have been fairly common in West
Asia. Hille (and surrounding villages) were without power owing to a
landslide months earlier. Some places such as Kathmandu, Kolkata, or
Pokhara, have sporadic blackouts. Come nightfall in Sauraha or
Darjeeling, however, it was almost guaranteed that electricity would
fail for an hour or three while demand was high. Businesses lucky
enough to have back-up generators or uninterruptable power supplies
could rely on them for a while (though power was not always restored in
time); other places would use candles or dim battery-operated
fluorescent lights.
In Rabongla the enjoyment of a room with TV and hot water (there was a negligible difference in cost between a nice-ish room, and what can only
be politely described as a complete $#!+#ole) was somewhat marred by
the fact that power was rarely available to light the TV or heat the
water. When power was finally restored, an electrical fault soon made
the use of the heater unadvisable - there was actually a jet of blue
flame coming from one of the taps! I winced in anticipation as the
hotel employee calmly walked across the water-soaked bathroom floor and
reached for the switch. When flicking the switch had no effect on the
fire, his next step was to unplug the heater.
I was a little shocked that he wasn't.
