The public bus never really gets the attention it deserves. I mean, how often do you think about it other than “thank God I have my car and I’m not that sucker waiting for a bus out in the rain.” Well in India, as with most things, transportation takes on a life of its own. I’m not going to brag about my ability to barter with auto drivers or the skills I now have in jumping on and off a moving bus or riding one-handed on the back of a scooter. But I am going to talk about what it is like to travel around, day in and day out, in Hyderabad, and most importantly, what it is like on a public bus.
Half of my Indian friends are still completely floored by the idea of me and my American friends actually getting on these things. I mean, they grew up with drivers and have been driving themselves around town just like the rest of us have been since we were teenagers (okay well I never had a driver but you get the picture). They have not even stepped onto a bus themselves. But when they cost about twenty cents to use, don’t require any bargaining, and you more or less know where they will go, it is kind of hard to say no. Although sometimes I wish I did. You see, there is something interesting about the bus system here in the city. It is that buses are as diverse as their drivers, and run the gauntlet from a clunker with a literal hole in the floorboard (yes on a recent trip I had to straddle said hole and hope it wouldn’t get bigger) to the bus I just took to this coffee shop which had air conditioning and a TV screen playing music videos. And it only cost three rupees more. The catch is as you wait at any given bus stop you never know what you will get, or really how crowded it will be.
Getting onto and off of the bus is an art form in itself. Most routes have stops that are marked or if not marked, at least visible by the amount of people congregating to get on them. But the real fun begins when the bus stops. For if you are getting on the bus, you are being pushed by the people behind you who also want to get on, at the same time you are being forced back by the people getting off the bus. I generally just wait until the last possible moment in back and then jump on as it starts to move. Saves my backpack from being squashed in the melee. On the flip side, if you want to get off the bus, you had better force your way through the women to the front and push them, poke them, yell at them, or do whatever, to ensure that you get off in time. It can be a long way between stops.
The bus ticket collector is also an anomaly. They wander up and down the aisle, often tapping, whistling and even pulling braids to get your attention so you can pay the fare. Sometimes if you don’t have change and they don’t have change they will hold up a finger, say “ek moment,” and twenty minutes later, assuming you haven’t already gotten off of the bus, voila, you have your change. They also have an uncanny knack of remembering exactly what stop you paid for, making sure you get off at that stop or else. I may not understand Telugu but I do get it when I am no longer welcome. On really crowded buses I have seen them hanging off the stairs, jumping out to allow passengers on and off and then running and jumping back onto the tiny bottom rung without missing a beat. It takes a certain breed of person to excel at this obviously and I have to admire their stamina and good sense of balance. Walking up and down a moving bus all day yelling at people has to get old.
Drivers tend to be in their own world, sitting up front, shifting with one hand while talking on their cell phone with the other. Shoes are optional as is any peripheral vision. I once was on a bus that somehow managed to be missing all the glass from the windows on the left side which happened to be where I was sitting. It was like riding in a half-convertible bus. Which was nice and breezy and fine until the driver veered left into a group of low-hanging trees. If I hadn’t ducked, I don’t think I would be writing a blog about buses after all.
Buses are not for foreigners. Oh no. I have realized that the reason why I never see foreigners walking on the streets but I see them in restaurants and in bars is because they don’t stoop to public transportation. But if you can get over the stares and learn which end of the bus you belong (men in back, women in front), it is really easy. My friends and I had a laugh the other day when our flatmate, who has taken the same bus to school and back every day for five months and never seen a non-Indian on board, watched a foreign couple get on her bus. And she stared just like everyone else did. I mean, you start to feel possessive about things here and your local bus definitely figures high onto that list. You are the token foreigner on that route thank you very much. You alone know the ins and outs of public transportation in Hyderabad. And you’ll be damned if someone else figures it out.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The Almighty Rupee
Working in the hybrid non-profit/ social business sphere, the dollar (well rupee I should say) is not exactly the motivating factor behind my choice of profession. Hopefully that much is obvious since the stipend I receive here reminds me of how good I had it at my part-time internship last year. Yet it is still a frustrating part of the job. Because, well, if I had unlimited funding, I could do whatever I want in my school and I could also travel, explore, and eat as much amazing food as my heart desires. And I wouldn’t have to waste precious energy worrying about how much I exceed my budget each month because, well, that budget would be a lot bigger. Yet I do have to remind myself that I am doing much better than the average person in India, so my own sob story about money stops here. This is about India’s money.
So back to the “average person” in India. As everyone is aware, India has one of the highest income discrepancies in the world (sadly the US isn’t doing that much better) with 42% of the population making less than $1.25 a day. And although the per capita GDP has skyrocketed to over $3500 per year from about $800 20 years ago, it is important to keep in mind that income inequality has also doubled in twenty years and that this is the average GDP, out of over a billion people. Suffice it to say there are plenty of people making much much less. In fact, the average teacher at my school makes a little over $30-$40 A MONTH. Yes, that’s right, a month. For working six days a week, all day. And yes, things are less expensive here than they are in the west but only marginally so. A liter of milk will still set you back a dollar or so in most convenience stores. In fact, inflation is at a high in India right now, devaluing the rupee and increasing the cost of living.
What am I getting at in this blog then? Well it’s a case of perspective. A case of my reminding myself that I may be hemorrhaging my money on dining out or trips but that I am still able to drop $15 on a nice dinner while this is close to half of most people’s monthly income. The story of poverty in India as I see it is a case of mixed outcomes. The economy grows, the middle class grows, people buy their smartphones and their designer jeans that are at least the same cost, if not more expensive, than those in the United States. But an extraordinary number of people remain left behind. One Australian consultant here shared the staggering statistic with me that there are more people living below the poverty line in only four states in India than the population of ALL of sub-saharan Africa. This is a very sobering thought.
When I said I was coming to India, people were very jealous. After all, we do see the India of stark poverty, on news reports and documentaries, and we can forget the incredible amount of wealth here. But we also see the Bollywood movies where everything is colorful, everyone is happy, and the star couple ends up together, smiling, at the end. So we equate this with a joy for living in India. We say that Indians have it right, valuing family first and being happy with what they have. Unfortunately, the feeling I have picked up most here was aptly described by my friend the other day. It is angst. Angst for something better and something more. Life is incredibly hard here. The day to day monotony overwhelmed by circumstance and hardship. Many people are not happy with what they have but they do not know any differently and feel they cannot change their situation.
And in my current profession, this feeling and these statistics are what keeps us going; the driving force behind social entrepreneurship. History shows that throwing money at the situation is not an answer. Instead people must have ownership in these initiatives to ensure sustainability and the continued success of poverty alleviation programs. That’s what social entrepreneurship and development programs like microfinance are all about. But what I am hoping as well is that India takes a stake in its own development. Before everyone jumps down my throat, I realize this seems hypocritical coming from a citizen of a country which blindly turns an eye to most of its own poor. And I also want to insert a caveat here that I have met an extraordinary amount of Indians who are concerned about the poor, who do support various causes, and who give what they can. Nevertheless, government initiatives to support development are mostly half-hearted, corrupt and do just throw money at the problem. As the recent case of the government shut-down of microfinance in Andhra Pradesh shows, the government is just as interested in making a buck as everyone else and the end result is it undermines the very programs that can help it to succeed.
But the problem, at least from what I have seen here is not a lack of money but a case of where the money is going, which is true in almost all developing countries where it is hidden away. Yet in India this misuse of funds is an open secret. And that has transferred to the individual. What takes precedence is a consumerism to rival that of any American Walmart and a hunt for the one item that will convey status. In India, caste status has given way to economic status. It is a matter of pride, and being confused with someone from the next lower strata is a hurt that one would rather not bear. We from the west know this story well as we participated in it ourselves and continue to. And look where it got us. So, India, learn from our mistakes. There is no massive, easy solution to crippling income disparity or massive levels of poverty. But irresponsible growth isn’t the answer either. You see it every day here – new construction replacing a former makeshift homeless camp, most certainly fueled by bribes to oversight committees and government officials in amounts that would feed and clothe these same homeless for months.
From what I can see, the story of India is a story of money. But money not necessarily well-spent. And it’s complicated. More complicated than I can understand and based on policies and practices that are part of the Indian identity. Yet if India is the country of the future (and I assure you, it most definitely is), it can only succeed by lifting those up who are left behind. The money is there. It’s just not in the right place
So back to the “average person” in India. As everyone is aware, India has one of the highest income discrepancies in the world (sadly the US isn’t doing that much better) with 42% of the population making less than $1.25 a day. And although the per capita GDP has skyrocketed to over $3500 per year from about $800 20 years ago, it is important to keep in mind that income inequality has also doubled in twenty years and that this is the average GDP, out of over a billion people. Suffice it to say there are plenty of people making much much less. In fact, the average teacher at my school makes a little over $30-$40 A MONTH. Yes, that’s right, a month. For working six days a week, all day. And yes, things are less expensive here than they are in the west but only marginally so. A liter of milk will still set you back a dollar or so in most convenience stores. In fact, inflation is at a high in India right now, devaluing the rupee and increasing the cost of living.
What am I getting at in this blog then? Well it’s a case of perspective. A case of my reminding myself that I may be hemorrhaging my money on dining out or trips but that I am still able to drop $15 on a nice dinner while this is close to half of most people’s monthly income. The story of poverty in India as I see it is a case of mixed outcomes. The economy grows, the middle class grows, people buy their smartphones and their designer jeans that are at least the same cost, if not more expensive, than those in the United States. But an extraordinary number of people remain left behind. One Australian consultant here shared the staggering statistic with me that there are more people living below the poverty line in only four states in India than the population of ALL of sub-saharan Africa. This is a very sobering thought.
When I said I was coming to India, people were very jealous. After all, we do see the India of stark poverty, on news reports and documentaries, and we can forget the incredible amount of wealth here. But we also see the Bollywood movies where everything is colorful, everyone is happy, and the star couple ends up together, smiling, at the end. So we equate this with a joy for living in India. We say that Indians have it right, valuing family first and being happy with what they have. Unfortunately, the feeling I have picked up most here was aptly described by my friend the other day. It is angst. Angst for something better and something more. Life is incredibly hard here. The day to day monotony overwhelmed by circumstance and hardship. Many people are not happy with what they have but they do not know any differently and feel they cannot change their situation.
And in my current profession, this feeling and these statistics are what keeps us going; the driving force behind social entrepreneurship. History shows that throwing money at the situation is not an answer. Instead people must have ownership in these initiatives to ensure sustainability and the continued success of poverty alleviation programs. That’s what social entrepreneurship and development programs like microfinance are all about. But what I am hoping as well is that India takes a stake in its own development. Before everyone jumps down my throat, I realize this seems hypocritical coming from a citizen of a country which blindly turns an eye to most of its own poor. And I also want to insert a caveat here that I have met an extraordinary amount of Indians who are concerned about the poor, who do support various causes, and who give what they can. Nevertheless, government initiatives to support development are mostly half-hearted, corrupt and do just throw money at the problem. As the recent case of the government shut-down of microfinance in Andhra Pradesh shows, the government is just as interested in making a buck as everyone else and the end result is it undermines the very programs that can help it to succeed.
But the problem, at least from what I have seen here is not a lack of money but a case of where the money is going, which is true in almost all developing countries where it is hidden away. Yet in India this misuse of funds is an open secret. And that has transferred to the individual. What takes precedence is a consumerism to rival that of any American Walmart and a hunt for the one item that will convey status. In India, caste status has given way to economic status. It is a matter of pride, and being confused with someone from the next lower strata is a hurt that one would rather not bear. We from the west know this story well as we participated in it ourselves and continue to. And look where it got us. So, India, learn from our mistakes. There is no massive, easy solution to crippling income disparity or massive levels of poverty. But irresponsible growth isn’t the answer either. You see it every day here – new construction replacing a former makeshift homeless camp, most certainly fueled by bribes to oversight committees and government officials in amounts that would feed and clothe these same homeless for months.
From what I can see, the story of India is a story of money. But money not necessarily well-spent. And it’s complicated. More complicated than I can understand and based on policies and practices that are part of the Indian identity. Yet if India is the country of the future (and I assure you, it most definitely is), it can only succeed by lifting those up who are left behind. The money is there. It’s just not in the right place
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Marriage on My Mind
Allow me to preface this with two disclaimers right from the start. 1) I stole this blog idea from my flatmate after having a discussion about this very topic. And 2) Don't worry, this blog isn't about MY personal life.
Well now that the air is cleared I can begin. It's wedding season in Hyderabad. Which means not a day goes by without lucky households being decorated in strings of lights, a well-dressed man riding down the street on a white horse (believe me, I've actually seen this), or one invitation to an obscure relative's wedding from a school teacher, school teacher's sister, or school teacher's neighbor's best friend's brother. And whether the wedding is Muslim, Hindu or Christian, there seems to be a certain level of prestige from having a foreigner you may not even personally know come to your wedding.
With this in mind, last Friday I attended my first wedding celebration, accompanying two of my flatmates. Yes the invitation was for the sister's wedding of my flatmate's teacher who I had never met. But no matter. As we'd say here in Hyderabadi English, "wedding invitation is there." So we saree'd up, quite literally, and hopped into an autorickshaw to a promising sounding function hall called "Officer's Mess." Hmmmm. Anyway, we arrived a full hour later than we were advised to, which is to say at 9PM because all weddings take place late in the evening here. And of course, in true Indian fashion, no one was there. Like the servers literally had to turn on the lights and fan for the three of us on the women's side. Whoops, that reminds me. Since it was a Muslim wedding, men and women sat on separate sides of the divider and didn't actually see each other. But that's kind of the point. Because it enables the women to take off their burqas and the fashion show really begins. You see,you'd be surprised by what women wear under their burqas, and how much detail goes into these outfits. For the wedding alone, the teacher from my friend's school dropped 18,000 rupees (roughly $360, or more than 9 times her monthly income give or take a few hundred rupees) and suffered under 30 pounds of embroidery and sequins for her outfit. And everyone was dressed in their best. I was starting to be very happy indeed I had finally gone out and purchased a saree except now I just want a nicer and more expensive one. Just because I'm foreign doesn't mean I don't care...
Eventually the bride showed up and we were ushered into the dining hall for women, where we were bombarded with pounds of food. And since it was a Muslim wedding, there was meat of all types! The prevalence of a Muslim population and their fondness for some good chicken is definitely one of the perks of living in Hyderabad. So we stuffed ourselves happily while chatting with the bride's family and friends, only to realize the bride herself wouldn't eat until around 3AM after all the other guests had eaten. Then we were pushed up on stage to sit with the bride and her family and take pictures. And of course to watch everyone else watching us. We spoke a bit with the bride, who was dressed in a beautiful emerald bride's skirt and top, henna decorating her hands, and jewelery that must have weighed more than she did. She said she was happy and excited but she looked a bit scared. Which brings me to my main point: the topic of arranged marriage.
When foreigners think of India, arranged marriages are usually one of the topics of discussion that spring to mind. How backward can a country be?, we often think. Or, how could any family force their daughters or sons into this? Well, here's the thing. I've always been one of those people who has been appalled by the idea as well. In fact, even now, the very idea of an arranged marriage for myself sends shivers down my spine. But, like most else about this country, you can't paint it with such a fine brush. Life is colored many more shades of gray here than most people realize. So here goes my attempt to explain some of the rationale behind arranged marriages here. Feel free to add in your own two cents worth.
As I've already written, one of my good friends here will most likely have an arranged marriage. But it's more like an arranged dating service, with parents picking out someone, the pair meeting up, then deciding if they want to keep seeing each other and going from there, or deciding to not proceed. Fair enough. Not much different than having your parents say "have you met so-and-so's son? He would be just your type..." However, this is from a rather progressive family. On the other hand, there are marriages where the partners don't really get a chance to meet each other beforehand. Or there are the ones where partners meet in supervised situations and both the potential bride and groom are asked their opinions before the marriage takes place. And there are arrangements of all types in between. Bear in mind too that even for the most westernized families here, the perfect age for marriage is in the early to mid-twenties.
In a culture where tradition has such deep roots, there are many men and women who do not have the opportunity to interact with one another quite so readily as we do. I'm not describing my Indian friends of course who mingle just like any of my American friends do. But I am describing the teachers at my school, the students, and the average person working and living throughout the city. If you're a good, traditional girl from a respectable Muslim or Hindu family, you don't really have many male friends and your dating pool remains small or nonexistent. An arranged marriage is really your only option and you've grown up trusting that your parents can make the right choice for you. Respecting your elders and your family is paramount to Indian society. And also in a country where men outnumber the women, arranged marriages are a means to perserve some order while people are competing for scarce resources. In fact, one businessman here once told us that the best way to frame Indian cultural behavior is by putting it in terms of the centuries of competition its members have faced: for food,land and water initially, and now, for women, train tickets, and autorickshaws.
I'm not anywhere near sold on the arranged marriage idea although I have met a fair share of people who claim true love and great marriages have come of it. However, these same people will cite low divorce rates in India to which I respond that divorce is much more of a taboo here and much more difficult although not unheard of (my schoolowner herself is divorced). And if you read the newspapers here you will see articles every day about a couple committing suicide because their parents won't agree on a marriage. While I couldn't help but feel a bit solemn at the wedding I went to, where the bride was my age and had probably never spent more than a night away from her family in her life, at least I could appreciate some of the sentiment behind it.
Moral of the story? Don't expect me to be looking for an arranged marriage any time soon, but don't expect me to condemn it in no uncertain terms. The most definitive opinion I can present? Ain't no party like an Indian wedding party....
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Turkeying Around
This week I am going to at least attempt to avoid the cliché of blogging about all that I am thankful for. Because truth be told, I have already done that on Facebook. And while I have a lot to be thankful for, at the moment, I am also struggling with not being with my family and friends to celebrate Thanksgiving weekend. Suffice it to say I am certainly NOT thankful for the price of airline tickets or the low number of vacation days I receive here. Going home at all in November or December is unfortunately not an option.
Therefore, I am left to ponder the anomaly of Thanksgiving from an Indian perspective. Trying to explain the holiday to my schoolchildren or the school’s principal has made me realize how crazy of a holiday it is. I mean, for one, there is no religion involved at all, but it is quite different from other national holidays that correspond with an exact event. And the irony, oh the irony. While I was giving a brief background on the pilgrims and Native Americans feasting together, Madam Lohia asked why we celebrate if we just ended up killing all of the Native Americans after such a “peaceful feast.” Yeah. We try to ignore that bit. So then I went on to say how it is really about recognizing the good things you have in your life and exercising gratitude for them. Now this is something most Indians can relate to. I mean, being super family-oriented is a way of life here as is a culture of consumption eerily similar to ours. A person may not be that well-off but they’ll be damned if they don’t have the newest smart phone and take every opportunity to show it off. Of course, I explained that it’s mostly not about material things but non-material things. To which the response was “shouldn’t you be thankful for these every day? Why just one day?”
At this point, I was feeling a little less than enthused about one of my favorite days of the year. It felt kind of like someone pointing out all the grammar mistakes in your just completed thesis or outlining all the reasons why eating cookies can be hazardous for your health. And it was then that I realized, who cares? I mean, there are plenty of holidays and traditions around the world that don’t seem to make much sense at all, especially to the uninitiated. I mean I just saw thousands of elephant god statues submerged in water one month, and the next, families that happily buy their meat from the grocery store 364 days a year were slitting the throats of goats in their front yards. And I mean, think of the running of the bulls in Spain, or, my personal favorite, the Wife-Carrying Festival in Europe. While I am not exactly comparing Thanksgiving to an event where burly beer-bellied men sling their wives over their shoulders and race through mud, I am saying that I don’t get the nuances because I’m observing from the outside, yet that doesn’t make it any less special to the people participating. Besides, Thanksgiving really exists as an excuse to take a breather, be around the people who matter the most to you, and just enjoy the good things in life, for a day. I mean, yes, Christmas is great too, but there’s so much pressure around buying presents, so much commercialization, and maybe not so much gratitude involved.
However, don’t feel too sorry for me, stuck in some far-flung country where Thanksgiving is little more than two unrelated words strung together in most people’s 2nd or 3rd language. Through some connections and the relatively small Ex-pat community here, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving as best we can. This translates into cooking three turkeys (one of which we are attempting to fry – I guess a product of putting ten 20something males in charge of the turkey preparation) and we will have stuffing, pies (I’m praying for pumpkin), potatoes and other necessities. All of this will be cooked in the comfort of the home of one of the Foreign Service Officers we have met here. And football or holiday movies have been promised. I do have to say this is a step up from spending my Thanksgiving in Spain aimlessly wandering the streets for pumpkin pie, but then again, we did have delicious wine and tapas to eat instead. And while the IDEX family is definitely a step up from celebrating with no one, it’s most certainly not my family. Nor will it be my Mom’s stuffing recipe or gravy being used. But permit me the corniness of at least saying I am thankful to have IDEX here and for our large piecemeal celebration, in 85 degree sunshine, deep in the heart of India. Yes it would be 100 times better to be with my family but if being abroad has taught me anything, it’s that you make do with what you have and you create what you don’t. And that’s incredibly rewarding.
Therefore, I am left to ponder the anomaly of Thanksgiving from an Indian perspective. Trying to explain the holiday to my schoolchildren or the school’s principal has made me realize how crazy of a holiday it is. I mean, for one, there is no religion involved at all, but it is quite different from other national holidays that correspond with an exact event. And the irony, oh the irony. While I was giving a brief background on the pilgrims and Native Americans feasting together, Madam Lohia asked why we celebrate if we just ended up killing all of the Native Americans after such a “peaceful feast.” Yeah. We try to ignore that bit. So then I went on to say how it is really about recognizing the good things you have in your life and exercising gratitude for them. Now this is something most Indians can relate to. I mean, being super family-oriented is a way of life here as is a culture of consumption eerily similar to ours. A person may not be that well-off but they’ll be damned if they don’t have the newest smart phone and take every opportunity to show it off. Of course, I explained that it’s mostly not about material things but non-material things. To which the response was “shouldn’t you be thankful for these every day? Why just one day?”
At this point, I was feeling a little less than enthused about one of my favorite days of the year. It felt kind of like someone pointing out all the grammar mistakes in your just completed thesis or outlining all the reasons why eating cookies can be hazardous for your health. And it was then that I realized, who cares? I mean, there are plenty of holidays and traditions around the world that don’t seem to make much sense at all, especially to the uninitiated. I mean I just saw thousands of elephant god statues submerged in water one month, and the next, families that happily buy their meat from the grocery store 364 days a year were slitting the throats of goats in their front yards. And I mean, think of the running of the bulls in Spain, or, my personal favorite, the Wife-Carrying Festival in Europe. While I am not exactly comparing Thanksgiving to an event where burly beer-bellied men sling their wives over their shoulders and race through mud, I am saying that I don’t get the nuances because I’m observing from the outside, yet that doesn’t make it any less special to the people participating. Besides, Thanksgiving really exists as an excuse to take a breather, be around the people who matter the most to you, and just enjoy the good things in life, for a day. I mean, yes, Christmas is great too, but there’s so much pressure around buying presents, so much commercialization, and maybe not so much gratitude involved.
However, don’t feel too sorry for me, stuck in some far-flung country where Thanksgiving is little more than two unrelated words strung together in most people’s 2nd or 3rd language. Through some connections and the relatively small Ex-pat community here, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving as best we can. This translates into cooking three turkeys (one of which we are attempting to fry – I guess a product of putting ten 20something males in charge of the turkey preparation) and we will have stuffing, pies (I’m praying for pumpkin), potatoes and other necessities. All of this will be cooked in the comfort of the home of one of the Foreign Service Officers we have met here. And football or holiday movies have been promised. I do have to say this is a step up from spending my Thanksgiving in Spain aimlessly wandering the streets for pumpkin pie, but then again, we did have delicious wine and tapas to eat instead. And while the IDEX family is definitely a step up from celebrating with no one, it’s most certainly not my family. Nor will it be my Mom’s stuffing recipe or gravy being used. But permit me the corniness of at least saying I am thankful to have IDEX here and for our large piecemeal celebration, in 85 degree sunshine, deep in the heart of India. Yes it would be 100 times better to be with my family but if being abroad has taught me anything, it’s that you make do with what you have and you create what you don’t. And that’s incredibly rewarding.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Revival
Hopefully, by now dear readers, you realize that there really is not a theme for this blog, other than to the extent that I write what is on my mind. So it comes as no surprise that this post is a bit of a jump from the last one. Living in India has brought to the forefront many things that are important to me but it has also pushed a few things to the wayside. And this week has presented several opportunities to remind me of these.
One of these was our tour of Hyderabad's CIIGBC building, the first LEED certified platinum green building outside of the United States. For the unintiated, LEED certification stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design and platinum is the highest rating a building can achieve. In fact, it was such a big deal that the building was inaugurated by the Indian President in 2003 and received a visit from President Bill Clinton. But I digress. We took a tour of this building, which has carbon sensored air conditioning units to track the number of people in the building and adjust the cooling unit accordingly. The roof of the building is also completely covered in grass and plants, and somehow, through a fancy feat of engineering I don't understand, it takes the hot water that drains from the roof and uses the extreme heat of the roof to make the water extremely cold and to help cool the building as well. Plus the carpet comes from recycled coke cans, the toilet is ammonia elimnating so the "water" can be reused, the chairs are made of wood waste, the windows are double-paned with an inert gas to facilitate temperature control and lots of other cool stuff.
The tour made me realize how much I had forgotten about environmental considerations here. I mean, people literally through their trash out the windows of their cars while driving, recycling bottles and other plastics is unheard of, and nighttime "clean up crews" are a joke. I used to care about doing my part but here I've been sucked into a culture of waste for the sake of convenience. I mean, it's way more convenient to just throw my Subway wrapper out the car window than to actually take it to a trash can, and it's allowed. But it's attitudes like this that also scare me a bit. For a country that will soon have the largest population in the world to take such a haphazard attitude towards the environment doesn't seem to bode well for the future. Of course, we Americans are horribly wasteful in our consumption but at least most of us have been trained well to turn off lights when we're not in a room or use the trash can and recycle bottles. So, here's my pledge to try to return to this. For now, India is my adoptive country and I can't help but feel a bit responsible for taking care of it any way I can. And my guilty conscience is starting to weigh on me.
The second thing that happened this week is that we were invited to a dinner at the US Consul General's house. As many of you know, I had foreign service aspirations, going so far as to take the FSOT before this IDEX opportunity presented itself. Being surrounded by Americans who were doing what I had considered my dream job was refreshing. While some were young and on their first post (apparently Hyderabad is considered a 20/30 on hardship postings; Lagos in Nigeria is 25. I wish I would get hardship pay here!), others, including the Consul General, had been all over the world. And all love their jobs. While you have to pay your dues at the beginning, working on visa applications, there is a huge opportunity for advancement and honestly, the perks aren't half bad. Of course, I did ask about the worst part of the job and the answers were inevitably similar to any other employees of the government, but these seemed small in comparison to the benefits.
I left the house determined to take the test again and try my hand at the State Department if possible. I mean, I passed it last time so how hard can a second time be? Let's hope I just didn't jinx myself. I also have realized that I feel a bit more positive towards the possible opportunity to stay and work in India next year as well. And at least now I am feeling much more in tune with myself again. It's been a hard four months and I've had to confront personal and professional challenges that I've never experienced before. But now it's time to take a breath and really start to do things for myself and my personal growth too and return to what is important to me. No more getting lost in my busy schedule or the job. And with that, time to go plan what side dishes to bring to our Thanksgiving feast for next week. Happy Turkey Day in advance!
One of these was our tour of Hyderabad's CIIGBC building, the first LEED certified platinum green building outside of the United States. For the unintiated, LEED certification stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design and platinum is the highest rating a building can achieve. In fact, it was such a big deal that the building was inaugurated by the Indian President in 2003 and received a visit from President Bill Clinton. But I digress. We took a tour of this building, which has carbon sensored air conditioning units to track the number of people in the building and adjust the cooling unit accordingly. The roof of the building is also completely covered in grass and plants, and somehow, through a fancy feat of engineering I don't understand, it takes the hot water that drains from the roof and uses the extreme heat of the roof to make the water extremely cold and to help cool the building as well. Plus the carpet comes from recycled coke cans, the toilet is ammonia elimnating so the "water" can be reused, the chairs are made of wood waste, the windows are double-paned with an inert gas to facilitate temperature control and lots of other cool stuff.
The tour made me realize how much I had forgotten about environmental considerations here. I mean, people literally through their trash out the windows of their cars while driving, recycling bottles and other plastics is unheard of, and nighttime "clean up crews" are a joke. I used to care about doing my part but here I've been sucked into a culture of waste for the sake of convenience. I mean, it's way more convenient to just throw my Subway wrapper out the car window than to actually take it to a trash can, and it's allowed. But it's attitudes like this that also scare me a bit. For a country that will soon have the largest population in the world to take such a haphazard attitude towards the environment doesn't seem to bode well for the future. Of course, we Americans are horribly wasteful in our consumption but at least most of us have been trained well to turn off lights when we're not in a room or use the trash can and recycle bottles. So, here's my pledge to try to return to this. For now, India is my adoptive country and I can't help but feel a bit responsible for taking care of it any way I can. And my guilty conscience is starting to weigh on me.
The second thing that happened this week is that we were invited to a dinner at the US Consul General's house. As many of you know, I had foreign service aspirations, going so far as to take the FSOT before this IDEX opportunity presented itself. Being surrounded by Americans who were doing what I had considered my dream job was refreshing. While some were young and on their first post (apparently Hyderabad is considered a 20/30 on hardship postings; Lagos in Nigeria is 25. I wish I would get hardship pay here!), others, including the Consul General, had been all over the world. And all love their jobs. While you have to pay your dues at the beginning, working on visa applications, there is a huge opportunity for advancement and honestly, the perks aren't half bad. Of course, I did ask about the worst part of the job and the answers were inevitably similar to any other employees of the government, but these seemed small in comparison to the benefits.
I left the house determined to take the test again and try my hand at the State Department if possible. I mean, I passed it last time so how hard can a second time be? Let's hope I just didn't jinx myself. I also have realized that I feel a bit more positive towards the possible opportunity to stay and work in India next year as well. And at least now I am feeling much more in tune with myself again. It's been a hard four months and I've had to confront personal and professional challenges that I've never experienced before. But now it's time to take a breath and really start to do things for myself and my personal growth too and return to what is important to me. No more getting lost in my busy schedule or the job. And with that, time to go plan what side dishes to bring to our Thanksgiving feast for next week. Happy Turkey Day in advance!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Doubts
I have a doubt.
In India, people don’t have questions, they have doubts. For instance, in class, a student will say “Miss, I have a doubt about this problem.” And today, I find this phrase much more apropos than what we would say. Question just doesn’t cut it.
You see, I am enjoying the fellowship, I really am. But the other day it dawned on me that I am lacking a bit of the passion in what I do. It is hard to see the impact you are making and while personally I am learning a lot, I am not feeling much like a change agent. Instead, I feel like many people in development must—like a well-intentioned foreigner who really is only scratching the surface of the world’s poverty, economic inequality, and quality of life problems. So what to do?
And then of course there is the doubt about the future. The all-encompassing question of “what are you going to be when you grow up?” I thought I had this figured out. For all intents and purposes I was going to be the next Muhammad Yunus in microfinance or Jeffrey Sachs in academia, both working to bridge the poverty gap. But now I don’t know how to get to that path. And I question if that is even a path or just a combination of luck, happenstance and some foresight on their parts.
So yes, for the next several months I will be working to rediscover that passion. I know it’s there, I just feel like the noise and craziness of life here has coated it over with a bit of dust. So the real doubt becomes, what do I make of my life from here? It is not too early to be asking this question and as the days seem to slip by without me even realizing it, I am beginning to think now is the time to start deciding. I mean, do I stay in India next year and possible help to manage the IDEX program at a city here? Is this where I can see the true impact of what we’re doing and help to sustain and continue it? Or do I stay here and try to work for an NGO or social enterprise to be as hands on as possible, even if the income I make is less than ideal?
Yet staying in India doesn’t mean things will stay the same. The people that are the most important to me here are all leaving for various locations and life paths. And my friends and family back home will be beyond disappointed in not having me around for another year. Despite my homesickness, especially with the upcoming holidays, going home long term seems too soon. If I go home, I know I will not be able to find something that makes me feel like the change practitioner I want to be, assuming I find any job at all. Only so much can be done from sitting behind a cubicle, even if it is a cubicle at a hard-working organization. And I haven’t even breached on the subject of what to do about graduate school.
The thing about living and working here is it is hard. Harder than anything I will probably ever experience. In order to make it here, I get so caught up in the day to day that I forget to take a step back and look at the whole picture. I need to do this more. So now, it remains to be seen where this fellowship and the future will take me but I just hope I find my calling sooner rather than later. Thanks for lending me an ear and for putting up with an introspective blog that probably bores you. I’m open for suggestions/ life advice/ job offers if you feel so inclined. I promise next time there will be some more fun to be read about.
In India, people don’t have questions, they have doubts. For instance, in class, a student will say “Miss, I have a doubt about this problem.” And today, I find this phrase much more apropos than what we would say. Question just doesn’t cut it.
You see, I am enjoying the fellowship, I really am. But the other day it dawned on me that I am lacking a bit of the passion in what I do. It is hard to see the impact you are making and while personally I am learning a lot, I am not feeling much like a change agent. Instead, I feel like many people in development must—like a well-intentioned foreigner who really is only scratching the surface of the world’s poverty, economic inequality, and quality of life problems. So what to do?
And then of course there is the doubt about the future. The all-encompassing question of “what are you going to be when you grow up?” I thought I had this figured out. For all intents and purposes I was going to be the next Muhammad Yunus in microfinance or Jeffrey Sachs in academia, both working to bridge the poverty gap. But now I don’t know how to get to that path. And I question if that is even a path or just a combination of luck, happenstance and some foresight on their parts.
So yes, for the next several months I will be working to rediscover that passion. I know it’s there, I just feel like the noise and craziness of life here has coated it over with a bit of dust. So the real doubt becomes, what do I make of my life from here? It is not too early to be asking this question and as the days seem to slip by without me even realizing it, I am beginning to think now is the time to start deciding. I mean, do I stay in India next year and possible help to manage the IDEX program at a city here? Is this where I can see the true impact of what we’re doing and help to sustain and continue it? Or do I stay here and try to work for an NGO or social enterprise to be as hands on as possible, even if the income I make is less than ideal?
Yet staying in India doesn’t mean things will stay the same. The people that are the most important to me here are all leaving for various locations and life paths. And my friends and family back home will be beyond disappointed in not having me around for another year. Despite my homesickness, especially with the upcoming holidays, going home long term seems too soon. If I go home, I know I will not be able to find something that makes me feel like the change practitioner I want to be, assuming I find any job at all. Only so much can be done from sitting behind a cubicle, even if it is a cubicle at a hard-working organization. And I haven’t even breached on the subject of what to do about graduate school.
The thing about living and working here is it is hard. Harder than anything I will probably ever experience. In order to make it here, I get so caught up in the day to day that I forget to take a step back and look at the whole picture. I need to do this more. So now, it remains to be seen where this fellowship and the future will take me but I just hope I find my calling sooner rather than later. Thanks for lending me an ear and for putting up with an introspective blog that probably bores you. I’m open for suggestions/ life advice/ job offers if you feel so inclined. I promise next time there will be some more fun to be read about.
Monday, October 31, 2011
A Love/ Hate Relationship
This post was supposed to be about the holiday Diwali and how cool all the lights were up around the city and in people's houses, and how crazily loud all the fireworks going off were. And there were to be lush descriptions of the food and sweets involved. But like all plans I have ever made here, India has a way of sneaking in and foiling them, either with a stealth attack or a big bang. Or in my case, a fever.
So there I was on Diwali, with a temperature of 102, feeling sorry for myself as all sick people seem to, and running all the possible outcomes of my illness through my mind. I mean, on the one hand, I could die. And when you're living in a developing country known for its tropical diseases, that doesn't seem like such a distant possibility. Or I could have to get shipped back to the US. Now this thought was interesting... and presented me with some conflicted emotions. I mean I'm at that point of being abroad where I'm getting homesick. It's fall in Oregon right now, the leaves are changing, there's that nip in the air but the sun is still just as likely to shine as it is to rain, the holidays are coming up and let me just say, the prospect of spending Thanksgiving and Christmas sandwiched between working days (since people don't get them off for normal holidays anyway), in balmy 85 degree weather without my family is less than ideal.
But on the other hand, I started to think about all that I would miss if I had to leave India right now. And I was suprised by what I came up with. Let me say right here, I realize I was being a tad dramatic, but when you have a fever, your mind tends to make up things and mine was already picturing the sad state India would be in without me and vice versa. Of course, I was able to daydream about what I wouldn't mind never seeing again as well. So what follows is a list of things that I would miss if I hadn't recovered from my mystery illness (pretty sure it was just the flu) and had to be packed home, feverish and clammy, before my time here was up, alongside of a few things I could most definitely do without:
Miss List:
1. My amazing Indian friends and my IDEX "Family" here -- you all know who you are and we haven't had near enough time to have a blast, argue, work together, and socialize yet.
2. My school -- Not only is my school Principal amazing but all of the students and teachers have made my experience at the very least more fulfilling than staying home working in a cubicle in Oregon.
3. The Chai guy down the road -- I walk by this guy every day, several times a day and have long since stopped buying chai from him. But he always waves, smiles happily, and says hello. Ditto the watchman at our neighborhood restaurant, the vegetable guy, the pharmacy workers across the street, and every staff member of Just Parantha.
4. On that note,I would miss my fruit and vegetable stands. I mean, it's nice to walk down the road, point at the stack of freshly cut papaya and watermelon and say "1 please" and voila, I have fruit. And the fresh vegetables housed in the roadside stand beat those at the supermarket anyday. And since I'm starved for anything healthy here, at least I can count these as small victories.
5. Hyderabad's "Western" clubs -- As a woman, we usually get into these for free and furthermore, as foreigners, we can often get our friends in for free as well. But the best part about these is the way they all try to fit a theme and for the most part, just miss the mark. But in a fun way. Take "10 Downing Street" which is modeled on an English pub but hasn't ever seen a pint of Guinness or a real English beer grace its bar. Still, it's endearing.
6. Cheap food - Spending less than a $1 on a fulling lunch, Pepsi in glass bottle included, is something I would dearly dearly DEARLY miss. Plus the quality of a streetside dosa or puri can't really be captured in how much you pay for it. So yummy. And so convenient. Well and all the food here is just delicious. So, yeah food in general.
7.And speaking of convenience, did you know you can get practically anything at practically any time? Okay well not really because the 24 hour culture that we have doesn't quite work here. But if you know the right people and places, that midnight chicken schwarma, served out of a watchman's post in front of an apartment building on Rd. 10 could just be yours.
8. Simplicity -- Okay so a lot of this country is complicated. Very complicated. And usually loud. But some things are just simpler and lack all the bells and whistles we have. Like my favorite steakhouse serves some of the best steaks I have ever had the joy of tasting, but the actual restaurant looks a bit sketchy to the western eye. No A/C, purple walls, less than stellar lighting. But that's the beauty of the place. Or the coffee place Lamakaan which also lacks A/C but has some of the cheapest wifi around, which is free, because of this. Not bad.
9. Autorickshaws -- A controversial declaration, I know. But really, there is something to be said about always being driven around by someone else. Yes they drive me crazy most of the time and yes I don't particularly like having to argue with someone every time I want to go somewhere. But traffic is one thing I don't worry about because these guys will mow down anyone in the way. And when I'm in the backseat on my way somewhere, that's just fine by me. Plus, those times when you get the rare happy auto driver who plays you some bollywood jams is always priceless.
10. Nothing is ever understaffed -- At times this can drive me crazy. I can't walk into a store anywhere without having some salesman descend upon me and continue to follow me around, making any browsing super awkward. And while having two servers to every one diner at a restaurant can also seem ridiculous and ineffecient, at least there is always one designated water pourer, one designated curry distributor, one separate roti deliverer, and of course, one biryani scooper.
11. Indian kids -- They go beyond just the school children. These are the kids on the street who stare at you with a gaping mouth, wondering if you have that skin disease that takes all the melanin out of your skin, or if you're just an alien. Yet they will usually wave and yell whatever English they know at you. "Hello how are you" being a favorite. Adorable.
12. Lack of lines -- Okay so this drove me absolutely crazy for about a month. And then I realized that I just need to get in on the deal. Just shove your way forward and unless you end up with a pushy Indian aunty behind you, no one really says anything. Okay wait. I think perfectionistic, type-A personality me still does hate this. But I'm adapting.
This brings me, briefly, to things I wouldn't miss about India. Sorry but I have to say it now.
The Not So Crazy About List:
1. The fluidity of time -- having studied abroad in Spain, I was all about not being rigidly on time and letting things go with the flow because everyone was consistently like 15-20 minutes late. But there is no consistency here. You say 30 minutes which can mean 15 minutes to one Indian and anywhere from 1 hour to 2 hours to another. And try as I might, 22 years of American punctuality being drilled into me won't escape. I just get more stressed out by you being late and unfortunately as a foreigner, if I'm left standing anywhere for any amount of time waiting for you, I'm kind of conscpicous. And by kind of I mean like a lot.
2. Autorickshaws -- Drivers consistently quote me prices 4 times what I should be paying just because I'm white. I will not pay 150 rupees from GVK to Rd. 12 (a 20 rupee journey) so if I literally laugh in your face, you know why.
3. Staring -- I'm so used to it now, it doesn't really phase me in Hyderabad. I've just come to terms with the fact that I'm a minor celebrity for like 10 months. But there's a difference between the quick start of surprise upon seeing my sadly pale skin or the blatant about-to-fall-off-your-motorbike because you noticed me walking by gaping. Didn't your mom ever teach you staring was rude?
4. Nothing is ever understaffed -- Yet still everything takes twice as long. I once ordered a mango smoothie from a restaurant down the road that I'm pretty sure is just a cover for a drug dealing ring. Because it should not take five men an hour and half to make one smoothie. Unless your actually milking the cow, going to pick the mango, and then hand mixing. I am not exaggerating. An hour and half. Oh yes and the 1sr man at the liquor store can only pack your liquor. You must wait for the 2nd man on the phone to be told to tell the third man (who is within earshot) how much change to give you while a 3rd man unlocks the lock box and passes the change back to the 2nd man to give to you.
5.Pollution, traffic, and lack of green -- My Hyderabadi friends would be quick to point out that there is green in Hyderabad. I'm sorry though, one park doesn't really count. And when walking around that park entails breathing in exahust that I'm pretty sure takes 10 minutes off my life for every minute I inhale, it definitely isn't the oasis of calm I need to escape life in India.
6. Public urination -- To a man, India is a giant urinal. Really. Anytime, anywhere, just pull your car/auto/bike/cow over to the side of the road and do your business in the wide open. And make sure you do it upwind so that lovely smell of ammonia will reach the nose of anyone in a 20 meter radius. Lovely.
7.Doing something just because one person thought it was a good idea -- Yes you should listen to your boss. But just because your boss once told you to save money by packing all of the customer's groceries into one bag doesn't mean you should continue to do it, even if that one bag is physically impossible for said customer to lift. And on that note, what genuis decided you must pay for something, get your receipt stamped saying you paid it, and then show that receipt again upon exit of a building to a security guard who hole punches it even though he just saw you get the receipt stamped and your hands are full? Ditto on the useless metal detectors and pat downs at malls but having no security to get on a long distance train ride.
8. Buses that don't go where they say they go -- That bus goes to Amberpet. Or so the sign posted clearly on the front says. So imagine your suprise when the ticket man comes to get money from you and you say "Amberpet" and he promptly shakes his head and pushes you out at the next stop.
9. No one ever has change -- Just once I would like to pay for a 100 rupee item ($2) with a thousand rupees ($20) and not get any complaints, moans or "no change madam" responses. For a country who has a rapidly expanding economy, no one ever has any change ever. Which is always a lie as the cashbox brimming with 100s that the cashier just hid from sight shows. Everyone is just hoarding their change from everyone else but the ATM doesn't seem to care...
Okay I think that's enough India for most of you for now. My fever has long since disappated and I am back to loving/hating life here as per usual. But I guess that's the point. Why go somewhere where I'm happy all the time or sad all the time? You have to dislike some things to like other things. And if there's one thing India has taught me it's never underestimate the power of the good to paint over the bad, because how else do you think people survive here?
So there I was on Diwali, with a temperature of 102, feeling sorry for myself as all sick people seem to, and running all the possible outcomes of my illness through my mind. I mean, on the one hand, I could die. And when you're living in a developing country known for its tropical diseases, that doesn't seem like such a distant possibility. Or I could have to get shipped back to the US. Now this thought was interesting... and presented me with some conflicted emotions. I mean I'm at that point of being abroad where I'm getting homesick. It's fall in Oregon right now, the leaves are changing, there's that nip in the air but the sun is still just as likely to shine as it is to rain, the holidays are coming up and let me just say, the prospect of spending Thanksgiving and Christmas sandwiched between working days (since people don't get them off for normal holidays anyway), in balmy 85 degree weather without my family is less than ideal.
But on the other hand, I started to think about all that I would miss if I had to leave India right now. And I was suprised by what I came up with. Let me say right here, I realize I was being a tad dramatic, but when you have a fever, your mind tends to make up things and mine was already picturing the sad state India would be in without me and vice versa. Of course, I was able to daydream about what I wouldn't mind never seeing again as well. So what follows is a list of things that I would miss if I hadn't recovered from my mystery illness (pretty sure it was just the flu) and had to be packed home, feverish and clammy, before my time here was up, alongside of a few things I could most definitely do without:
Miss List:
1. My amazing Indian friends and my IDEX "Family" here -- you all know who you are and we haven't had near enough time to have a blast, argue, work together, and socialize yet.
2. My school -- Not only is my school Principal amazing but all of the students and teachers have made my experience at the very least more fulfilling than staying home working in a cubicle in Oregon.
3. The Chai guy down the road -- I walk by this guy every day, several times a day and have long since stopped buying chai from him. But he always waves, smiles happily, and says hello. Ditto the watchman at our neighborhood restaurant, the vegetable guy, the pharmacy workers across the street, and every staff member of Just Parantha.
4. On that note,I would miss my fruit and vegetable stands. I mean, it's nice to walk down the road, point at the stack of freshly cut papaya and watermelon and say "1 please" and voila, I have fruit. And the fresh vegetables housed in the roadside stand beat those at the supermarket anyday. And since I'm starved for anything healthy here, at least I can count these as small victories.
5. Hyderabad's "Western" clubs -- As a woman, we usually get into these for free and furthermore, as foreigners, we can often get our friends in for free as well. But the best part about these is the way they all try to fit a theme and for the most part, just miss the mark. But in a fun way. Take "10 Downing Street" which is modeled on an English pub but hasn't ever seen a pint of Guinness or a real English beer grace its bar. Still, it's endearing.
6. Cheap food - Spending less than a $1 on a fulling lunch, Pepsi in glass bottle included, is something I would dearly dearly DEARLY miss. Plus the quality of a streetside dosa or puri can't really be captured in how much you pay for it. So yummy. And so convenient. Well and all the food here is just delicious. So, yeah food in general.
7.And speaking of convenience, did you know you can get practically anything at practically any time? Okay well not really because the 24 hour culture that we have doesn't quite work here. But if you know the right people and places, that midnight chicken schwarma, served out of a watchman's post in front of an apartment building on Rd. 10 could just be yours.
8. Simplicity -- Okay so a lot of this country is complicated. Very complicated. And usually loud. But some things are just simpler and lack all the bells and whistles we have. Like my favorite steakhouse serves some of the best steaks I have ever had the joy of tasting, but the actual restaurant looks a bit sketchy to the western eye. No A/C, purple walls, less than stellar lighting. But that's the beauty of the place. Or the coffee place Lamakaan which also lacks A/C but has some of the cheapest wifi around, which is free, because of this. Not bad.
9. Autorickshaws -- A controversial declaration, I know. But really, there is something to be said about always being driven around by someone else. Yes they drive me crazy most of the time and yes I don't particularly like having to argue with someone every time I want to go somewhere. But traffic is one thing I don't worry about because these guys will mow down anyone in the way. And when I'm in the backseat on my way somewhere, that's just fine by me. Plus, those times when you get the rare happy auto driver who plays you some bollywood jams is always priceless.
10. Nothing is ever understaffed -- At times this can drive me crazy. I can't walk into a store anywhere without having some salesman descend upon me and continue to follow me around, making any browsing super awkward. And while having two servers to every one diner at a restaurant can also seem ridiculous and ineffecient, at least there is always one designated water pourer, one designated curry distributor, one separate roti deliverer, and of course, one biryani scooper.
11. Indian kids -- They go beyond just the school children. These are the kids on the street who stare at you with a gaping mouth, wondering if you have that skin disease that takes all the melanin out of your skin, or if you're just an alien. Yet they will usually wave and yell whatever English they know at you. "Hello how are you" being a favorite. Adorable.
12. Lack of lines -- Okay so this drove me absolutely crazy for about a month. And then I realized that I just need to get in on the deal. Just shove your way forward and unless you end up with a pushy Indian aunty behind you, no one really says anything. Okay wait. I think perfectionistic, type-A personality me still does hate this. But I'm adapting.
This brings me, briefly, to things I wouldn't miss about India. Sorry but I have to say it now.
The Not So Crazy About List:
1. The fluidity of time -- having studied abroad in Spain, I was all about not being rigidly on time and letting things go with the flow because everyone was consistently like 15-20 minutes late. But there is no consistency here. You say 30 minutes which can mean 15 minutes to one Indian and anywhere from 1 hour to 2 hours to another. And try as I might, 22 years of American punctuality being drilled into me won't escape. I just get more stressed out by you being late and unfortunately as a foreigner, if I'm left standing anywhere for any amount of time waiting for you, I'm kind of conscpicous. And by kind of I mean like a lot.
2. Autorickshaws -- Drivers consistently quote me prices 4 times what I should be paying just because I'm white. I will not pay 150 rupees from GVK to Rd. 12 (a 20 rupee journey) so if I literally laugh in your face, you know why.
3. Staring -- I'm so used to it now, it doesn't really phase me in Hyderabad. I've just come to terms with the fact that I'm a minor celebrity for like 10 months. But there's a difference between the quick start of surprise upon seeing my sadly pale skin or the blatant about-to-fall-off-your-motorbike because you noticed me walking by gaping. Didn't your mom ever teach you staring was rude?
4. Nothing is ever understaffed -- Yet still everything takes twice as long. I once ordered a mango smoothie from a restaurant down the road that I'm pretty sure is just a cover for a drug dealing ring. Because it should not take five men an hour and half to make one smoothie. Unless your actually milking the cow, going to pick the mango, and then hand mixing. I am not exaggerating. An hour and half. Oh yes and the 1sr man at the liquor store can only pack your liquor. You must wait for the 2nd man on the phone to be told to tell the third man (who is within earshot) how much change to give you while a 3rd man unlocks the lock box and passes the change back to the 2nd man to give to you.
5.Pollution, traffic, and lack of green -- My Hyderabadi friends would be quick to point out that there is green in Hyderabad. I'm sorry though, one park doesn't really count. And when walking around that park entails breathing in exahust that I'm pretty sure takes 10 minutes off my life for every minute I inhale, it definitely isn't the oasis of calm I need to escape life in India.
6. Public urination -- To a man, India is a giant urinal. Really. Anytime, anywhere, just pull your car/auto/bike/cow over to the side of the road and do your business in the wide open. And make sure you do it upwind so that lovely smell of ammonia will reach the nose of anyone in a 20 meter radius. Lovely.
7.Doing something just because one person thought it was a good idea -- Yes you should listen to your boss. But just because your boss once told you to save money by packing all of the customer's groceries into one bag doesn't mean you should continue to do it, even if that one bag is physically impossible for said customer to lift. And on that note, what genuis decided you must pay for something, get your receipt stamped saying you paid it, and then show that receipt again upon exit of a building to a security guard who hole punches it even though he just saw you get the receipt stamped and your hands are full? Ditto on the useless metal detectors and pat downs at malls but having no security to get on a long distance train ride.
8. Buses that don't go where they say they go -- That bus goes to Amberpet. Or so the sign posted clearly on the front says. So imagine your suprise when the ticket man comes to get money from you and you say "Amberpet" and he promptly shakes his head and pushes you out at the next stop.
9. No one ever has change -- Just once I would like to pay for a 100 rupee item ($2) with a thousand rupees ($20) and not get any complaints, moans or "no change madam" responses. For a country who has a rapidly expanding economy, no one ever has any change ever. Which is always a lie as the cashbox brimming with 100s that the cashier just hid from sight shows. Everyone is just hoarding their change from everyone else but the ATM doesn't seem to care...
Okay I think that's enough India for most of you for now. My fever has long since disappated and I am back to loving/hating life here as per usual. But I guess that's the point. Why go somewhere where I'm happy all the time or sad all the time? You have to dislike some things to like other things. And if there's one thing India has taught me it's never underestimate the power of the good to paint over the bad, because how else do you think people survive here?
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