The Origin of Roads

My  cousin once told me that this road, yes, this one which links my driveway to the city, can leads me to South America. Follow it along, and without breaking asphalt, you can get there. Particle shouldering particle, ounce leading to another ounce, human settlement has decided it will trace the Earth.

The same holds for Africa. I met a Dutch couple, both documentary film-makers, who drove from their home in Amsterdam to Zambia. They were in Egypt only 3 weeks after Mubarek fell. In Sudan, they were obliged to stop every 10 km at police check-points, bound by custom to be guests at tea.

Human exchange, culture, ideas, and experiences are facilitated by physical movement. Inherently, so is the trade of physical goods. So as I biked on one such asphalt road (to see an agent), I didn’t fully appreciate roads until I saw their origin.

Roads don’t exactly start anywhere (geographically). But the process itself begins from rock.

Along this road, 35 km North of Chipata, the sound of clinking hammers quickly engulfed me. So, too, did the presence of many piles of chunked rock.

At most of these heaps sat a person. Young, old, male, female, single, pregnant, none were exempted. They sat here on the roadside in the heat of the day, repeating themselves ceaselessly: chisel to larger stone, carefully adjust fingers, strike hammer. Chisel to slightly-less-large stone, carefully adjust fingers, strike hammer. Repeat.

Thomas tells me that an average-sized heap (about the size of an office desk) is purchased by a construction company for around $80 – $100 CDN. This is very good money, especially in the village. A friend of mine told me yesterday that for most years of adolescence in the village, his family and he would survive 6 months without expenditures. Half of the year off the economic grid. Incredible self-sufficiency.  He says salt and soap were the two things that they missed the most after running out.

So rock crushing brings good income. My question was how long (days, weeks?) it would take for one person to generate enough rocks to make the pile.

The product: pebble sized stones, laid ad infinitum and as level as possible, along the future road. Tar comes next. Levelling, and then re-pavement. Every foot of road from here to…?

There are plenty of people willing to crush rocks. Unfortunate as it is if you permanently damage your hands, the opportunity is taken. Need I mention there is no compensation/safety net for injury? There’s demand and there is willing labour; thus a transaction occurs. It just pains me to see people doing the work of machines.

Hammers continue to clink, slowly fading behind us as we proceed through the hills. I’ve never appreciated roads until now.