A Five-Star Rejuvenation of the Spirit

Summary: A weekend at the Taj Hotel, courtesy of Anna and Elizabeth’s friend, was critical in rejuvenating my spirit, which had been suffering greatly as of late.

Elizabeth and Anna have been plagued with illness lately, and have tried to identify the source of their ailment through a series of tests and examinations, culminating with a particularly harrowing experience with the “woman doctor.” A good friend of theirs, an ex-DSH employee who has been to Lucknow, naturally understood their plight and arranged for them a mini-vacation at the Taj, the neighborhood 5-star hotel. (And when I say neighborhood, I mean it in a literal sense. The Taj is about half a mile from their house.) Lucky me, I get to tag along for the ride.

Unlike the girls, I haven’t been physically sick (unless you count the unnatural hair loss currently occurring), but I have been emotionally on edge and perpetually irritated by everything associated with a foreigner’s experience in Lucknow. It took all of my self-restraint to not explode at every man who stared at me, every autorickshaw wallah who tried to overcharge me, every person who tried to tell me what to do, etc.

Of course, this frustration had nothing to do with India being different, and everything to do with me reacting differently. One could say that this was the inevitable eruption of a volcano has been bubbling with stress and emotional suppression over the past 4+ months.

The weekend at the Taj rejuvenated my spirit in ways I didn’t even know were possible. I was unaware of how grumpy I had become until I felt the frustration wash away with every dip in the clear pool (which was, by the way, noticeably devoid of people). Now, I’m not normally a poolside lounger; I’d much rather prefer to do something or go somewhere. But that was also before I experienced the healing properties of Vitamin D, cool pool water, clean sheets, a good shower, and central AC. Freedom from stares and touts probably didn’t hurt either, as we stayed within the confines of the hotel throughout the weekend.

After a brief period of withdrawal from the serenity of the weekend, I have rediscovered the joy, appreciation, and humor of my former self. And, after some reflection, I’ve come to realize that our (Anna’s, Elizabeth’s, and my) frequent mocking of the absurdity that is India had a negative undertone that began to permeate my entire being.

Perhaps truly accepting another culture and your life in it isn’t something you “accomplish,” but rather something you continually do. Every situation provides the opportunity to either accept or rebel against said culture. However, too many rebellions, both internal and external, subtle and extreme, result in emotional turmoil and a self-reinforcing downward spiral toward the abyss of frustration and negativity. (Of course, rebellion in and of itself is not a bad thing, for it can result in growth for all parties involved.)

It was in this whirlpool of antagonism I was unknowingly caught when the Taj tossed me a lifesaver. And, sometimes, when someone gives you help (even if you don’t ask for it), you should take it. Because only through the process of healing did I start understanding the source of the pain.

“The India Confusion”

I find India impossible to explain or describe to someone who has never been or experienced it. Apparently I am not alone, as I stumbled upon this article, which seems to put in words some of the things I’ve seen and experienced but couldn’t explain. (Read the full article here.) In the meantime, here are some excerpts:

Background: “It is a unique, overlapping, and entangled landscape - one living within the other. India is one part stuck in history. You, as a tourist, are going there to experience this living past. The other part is the modern India that facilitates you as a traveler. India’s past collides with her present in the middle of the road. You witness this never-ending and mind-boggling fusion of contradictions.”

First Impressions: “Your welcome to India is not a friendly one. The first thing you notice is the people. I mean lots of people. People moving in all directions. You have to deal with the worst of India head-on, and it’s really raw. Be it the beggars, the touts, the poor children, or the local taxi drivers, you have to deal with all of them minutes after your arrival.”

Culture: “There is no Indian culture! … And you fail miserably if you are on a mission to find "real" Indian culture. India is not a monolithic cultural block. It’s an anthology of a thousand countries within a country.”

Class: “There is nothing like the contrast between the poor in villages and the rich in the cities. The extreme rich and the unimaginably poor live almost side-by-side in any Indian city. … All share, more or less, the same public landscape. The cultural co-existence of these classes is an unexplainable miracle.”

Family: “Parents play highly influential role in their children’s lives. … A family is more of a collective consulting body where everyones opinion matters. … The family is the elementary building block of the Indian society.”

Communication: “Any layman on the road wants to say something to you. Indian love to talk, and do so even with a total stranger on the street. Such communication hardly starts with introductions by name. … They talk for hours as if they are long time friends, and may depart without knowing each other’s names.”

Advice: “The most valuable currency you need to enjoy India in total is patience. She never allows you to run faster than her nor she is bothered about your hurry. The India elephant moves at her own pace, stopping here and there at its own wish, enjoying every bit of it’s journey. Follow it’s procession in style... it is the best way to enjoy India.”

India is like nothing else I’ve ever seen; at the same time, traveling elsewhere has prepared me for India. It’s the kind of place you have to experience firsthand to understand, but the initiation process definitely not for everyone. But if you can tolerate, accept, and embrace it for what it is, you’ll want to keep searching for more.

How Many People Does It Take To…

Summary: My life in India in a nutshell – it took me 5 days and 16 people to do a job others claim could’ve happened in 2 hours with 1 person.

To everyone’s shock and disbelief, I’ve been surviving Indian nights with nothing but my ceiling fan and an occasional frozen bottle of water. However, folks at the office, concerned about my health, wanted me to use a spare AC from the office. I can only protest so much, so I give in to the forces that be.

This may appear to be the story of how I got an AC installed, but in actuality, it’s a story of how things get done in India (even at the minute level of refilling a glass of water in a restaurant). My coworkers will claim this is how foreigners get things done in India....

(1) Day 1: Coworker calls the StudyHall School electrician to send an AC wallah to take out the AC and install it in my house.
(2) AC wallah does not come, but carpenters do. They’re not needed yet, so get sent back.
(3) Day 2: AC wallah comes and takes down the AC. Visits my house to see where and how it will fit.
(4) AC wallah determines that a fabricator (i.e., arc welder) is needed to cut the bars on the window, and calls the StudyHall electrician with the news.
(5) Day 3: StudyHall electrician brings the fabricator to my house to examine what needs to be done. Fabricator agrees to come the following day at noon.
(6) Day 4: Fabricator comes with another man to inspect the job (again). Agrees to come back in two hours (after lunch) with the tools.
(7) With a lot of help, we move the AC to my house via cycle rickshaw.
(8) Fabricator and yet a different boy come to cut the bars. There is no shortage of small fires that need to be doused with water.
(9) Call StudyHall electrician to see about next steps. It is determined that an AC wallah is not needed, and we send for the carpenters.
(10) Day 5: StudyHall electrician arrives in the morning with a carpenter to take measurements. Will return in three hours (after lunch).
(11) Carpenter and wingman come to “fit” and install the AC.

Days to complete job: 5
Actual work time: 5 hours [AC wallah (30 min.); fabricator (2 hours); carpenter (2.5 hours)]
People involved: 16. [coordinators / translators (4); StudyHall electrician (1); AC wallah (1); carpenters (2+2); moving the AC (3); fabricators (3)]

The fabricator doing his thing from inside. See the sparks?

The "hole" left by the fabricator for the AC:

The final product (notice the plywood covering my entire window):

My coworkers claim that they only need 1 person and 2 hours to complete the same job. True, perhaps folks made the job unnecessarily complicated because I’m a foreigner. But this is India as I’ve experienced it, even when I ask locals for help.

Mother India’s Lessons

Summary: In my four months here, Mother India has managed to teach me a few things. To date, my coursework has included: expectations, time, planning, persistence, standards, openness, cynicism, generosity, patience, humor, and control.

Four months ago today, a clueless, naïve, idealistic, and slightly crazy Chinese American stepped off the plane in Lucknow, oblivious to what lay ahead. This silly girl thought she was going to help improve education in India, unaware that the real education was the one in store for her.

In a mere four months, Mother India has managed to teach her quite a few things about life and survival. So far, her education has covered the following:

Expectations: Your view of the world often doesn’t translate. Don’t expect anything to happen, but be prepared to respond to just about anything. Because your expectations will often mislead you, and anything just might happen.

Time: Things will happen when they happen. More often than not, time runs late. Time is valuable, but living in and enjoying the present for what it’s worth is just as important. Getting frustrated when things run late is futile.

Planning: Closely tied to both expectations and time. Things will never go as planned, but you have to plan for the unexpected. Be ready to throw all your plans out the window, for flexibility is key. Appreciate when anything goes well, because that’s an accomplishment in and of itself.

Persistence: When people tell you “It is not possible,” they’re basically saying, “Find another way.” Life is full of obstacles, whether it be underdeveloped skills, uncompromising bureaucracy, or cows.

Standards: Standards are certainly relative, and need to be adjusted so. Status quo is never acceptable, but the definition of “success” lies somewhere along a continuum. Perfectionism is not an option. Think baby steps.

Openness: Freeing yourself from your own worldview and implicit judgment is a very difficult but necessary prerequisite for understanding another’s culture. Things that make no sense from your perspective can often be understood when the others’ culture and worldview is considered. “Equal but different” can, and does, exist.

Cynicism: Never underestimate the power of the situation, and try not to lose your belief in the inherent goodness of man without losing your mind. Thinking that everyone is out to “get” you is unhealthy, but believing that everyone always behaves virtuously is naïve.

Generosity: No matter how poor, people always have something to give (and often do so). If the poor can be generous, why are the wealthier not more so?

Patience: Unwanted attention can be uncomfortable, and touts can be quite trying. Every moment consists of a choice – do you accept it for what it is, or do you fight back? You don’t have the energy to fight every battle that’s waged, and even a battle you win has already been lost.

Humor: Taking a step back, humor can be found even (especially?) in the most ridiculous of situations. Humor is like a Swiss Army Knife – carry it around all times, for it can save your life.

Control: Most things come down to control. In “Seven Habits of Highly Effective People,” Stephen Covey astutely suggests proactivity within your locus of control. Everything else is mental energy wasted. Sometimes you just have to throw your hands in the air and let things run their course. If nothing else, India teaches you that less is in your control than you think, yet at the same time, your locus of control may actually be larger than meets the eye.

Basically, life is full of contradictions and paradoxes you need to wade through.

Thing is, Mother India is quite the hands-on teacher. Once is not enough. This oblivious girl encounters each of these lessons at least once a day, in different shapes and forms. And four months later, she still struggles with them. Old habits are hard to change, but Mother India is not one to give up anytime soon.

I suspect she spends a little more time on this girl because the girl is “special,” and a tad more stubborn than the rest of her class. Don’t worry, Mother India, she’ll get it soon.

By the way, when’s recess?

Good Things Happen in Small Doses

Summary: Indians seem to do things more, but less (as compared to Americans). More frequently, but less quantity each time. There are many reasons for this, which often include the practical and the psychological.

One thing I’ve noticed here is that, compared to the U.S., things tend to happen more frequently, but in smaller doses. I’ve seen this happen across many different aspects of life:

Food

• Folks tend to buy fruits and vegetables on a per-meal or per-day basis. The phal and saabzi wallahs cart their vegetables around the neighborhood all day for this purpose.
  
• Cooking is done per meal. The concept of mass weekend cooking escapades, the outputs of which are frozen and eaten throughout the week, is foreign and, for lack of a better word, disgusting.
  
• Chai or coffee is drank several times a day (at least twice), but in small (espresso-sized) cups. A venti coffee is unthinkable.
  
• Milk is delivered to local shops several times throughout the day. (Possibly because many of the local stores do not have refrigerators?)

Daily Necessities

• Trash gets collected daily, not weekly. This is done by guys on bicycles pulling attached wooden carts.
  
• Day-to-day shopping is mainly done at your neighborhood store, not at a big box store (e.g., Walmart). People buy things as needed, generally in smaller quantities, more frequently. (The idea of “stocking up” isn’t as prevalent, presumably because of lack of storage space.)
  
• Laundry also seems to be done more frequently here than in the States.

Work

• The workday typically runs from around 10-5 pm, 6 days a week (instead of 9-5, 5 days a week). Admittedly, I also see men from well-off families working from about 10 am-10 pm, with extended breaks during the day.

Education

• Like the workday, schools typically operate 6 days a week, for shorter hours each day.
  
• School holidays are spread throughout the year (because of religious festivals), so students tend to have shorter “long vacations” (e.g., summer and winter).
  
• Schools tend to be smaller, but there are more of them. For example, each village or two has a school, but these schools tend to be smaller operations. This is true also for graduate schools, such as the business school that recently opened in our neighborhood but simply looks like a glorified house.

Each item has its own explanation, but I have some general hypotheses about common reasons behind these differences. Often, the practical reasons are intertwined with inherent differences in the psyches of the two cultures.

Time: The American psyche is always “go-go-go,” and Americans seem to always be short on time. They like doing being time-efficient, and making one weekly Trader Joe’s run rather than daily shopping trips. Indians, on the other hand, don’t seem as concerned about time (as evident by frequent train delays). Also, I believe shorter work and school hours allow for more time with the family each day.

Space: Even if Indians were to buy in bulk, where would they store it? Homes generally aren’t that big, and the poorer folks certainly don’t have luxuries like refrigerators. Also, from the supplier perspective, it’s also much easier to find a small plot of land than a big one (for stores, schools, etc.).

Transportation: Logistically, locals often travel by autorickshaws, motorcycles, etc. Buying in bulk also means you have to carry it all home; for women who do most of the shopping, this is no easy task if you do not own or drive a car.

Scale: India is a big, crowded place, with a lot of people living in close quarters. The practicalities of stockpiling things, whether they be tasks, food, trash, etc., would require an enormous scale to execute. Not only that, but such consolidation would also result in fewer jobs.

Quality: Quality is often better when things happen frequently. Food is fresher, trash hasn’t rotted, etc.

Money: Buying or building in bulk requires a certain amount of disposable income. This is rare in India, where the majority of folks are living day-to-day. Shopping at big box stores also isn’t necessarily cheaper, though it does give you more options.

Oftentimes, it’s a matter of convenience. The Indian lifestyle dictates that increased frequency but smaller scale is the more convenient option, whereas the American lifestyle dictates that bigger but less frequent is often more convenient. However, while the Indian culture is strong, I do see it moving toward the American way of life, as evident in the emergence and growing popularity of big box Walmart-like chains such as Big Bazaar.

Come to think about it, the only things Indians generally stockpile are things we take for granted in the U.S.: electricity and water.

Ways I Can Die in India

Summary: Though it’s the capital of UP, Lucknow is a relatively safe pocket of India. In good fun, I started putting together a “Ways I Can Die in India” list, with the major categories being: In transit, Ingestion, and Induced by animals. (What can I say, I appreciate alliteration.)

Despite the news of India being a terrorist hotspot, Lucknow is actually a very safe place to live. Muslims and Hindus coexist peacefully, and violence or mugging is almost unheard of here (unlike in LA).

There are, however, a slew of other things to worry about. I’ve been compiling what I call, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, the “Ways I Can Die in India” list, though the list actually relates specifically to my life in Lucknow. Here’s what I have to date, in order of likelihood:

In Transit: Anything that involves getting from Point A to Point B. Things in this category include: crossing the street, riding my bike (admittedly, this is my own fault!), going for a run around the neighborhood, riding in cycle or auto rickshaws, sitting in a car, taking the train, flying in a plane, etc. It can be one of the boys who try to run us over, or the rickshaw wallah who’s weaving through the roundabout like there’s no tomorrow. Every day, I engage in dangerous behavior here, and often it’s unavoidable. Admittedly, some behaviors “unnecessarily” increase my risk (e.g., going for a run).

Ingestion: Things you deliberately or inadvertently put into your system, just by living day to day here. The most obvious are drinking water and eating, and the effects can be as serious as cholera or as “trivial” as food poisoning. A major challenge of this category is striking the right balance, as overdose of sugar (chai, anyone?) and oil, malnutrition, or vitamin deficiency can easily occur.

There are also things that inadvertently enter your system, such as inhaling smoke from the trash fires every morning, or accidentally taking a large gulp of water from the local swimming pool (chlorine overdose or dysentery, anyone?).

Induced by Animals: Through direct interaction with animals or other animal-related activity, such as repelling or killing them. I may get bit by a rat or mouse, or even a monitor lizard (who lives in the yard next door). I may get attacked or run over by a cow, bull, buffalo, or dog. The birds or cockroaches housed in my home may spread disease. I may get malaria, as I’ve stopped taking my malaria pills to save my liver (kidney?).

Or, I can die trying to deter the pests from wreaking havoc. Overdosing on insect repellent (All Out!, which burns oil through the night) or insecticide (Hit, which I once tried on a mouse running around my house).

Of course, this list is only the beginning, but it gives you a sense of the greatest dangers I face here, none of which include getting mugged or bombed, unless you call getting nudged by buffalo (which happened in Varanasi) a mugging attempt.

Perhaps You Would Like Chinese?

Summary: Folks here often mean well, but can be incredibly frustrating. The restaurant we ate at last night didn’t have much to offer in terms of available food options, but they did have plenty of Chinese food just for me.

Last night, some friends and I decided to have dinner at Aryan’s, a local chain. My head was already spinning when I entered the restaurant, and the folks at Aryan’s just made it worse. Not only did they not have anything I wanted to order, but they redirected me to the frickin’ Chinese menu. This is the second time the ever-helpful Aryan’s waiters have done this, and I’ve only been thrice!

Here’s an excerpt of our conversation:

Me: Can I have the Bengal / Goan fish curry please?
Waiter: No fish. (At least this is what I think he said.)
Me: Hm…well then, how about the chicken curry?
Waiter: (Checks with kitchen and returns.) Sorry, m’am.
Me: (Increasingly frustrated) Let’s see about vegetables then. How about this one?
Waiter: (Smiles uncomfortably and shakes his head.)
Me: (Dangerously close to anger.) I give up. Anna, please take care of this for me.
Anna: Do you have the dhal makhani?
Waiter: Sorry, m’am.
Me: Well, then, can you please tell me what you do have???
Waiter: (Takes menu and points to Chinese section.)
Me: (Smacks hand on table only half-jokingly.) That’s it, I’m walking out of here. I’m done.
Anna: (To waiter) She wants a vegetable with gravy, but not Chinese. What’s available?
Waiter: (Confused, points to Chinese section again.)

Sure, there’s a part of me that knows they’re only trying to be helpful, the same way they were trying to help when they came to our table 10 minutes after we ordered had the following exchange with us:

“Did you order a curry?”
“No.”
“But you’ve ordered some naan. Did you also want to order curry to go with the naan?”
“Sir, we know what we ordered. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

People trying to be helpful can be flustering sometimes. But sometimes they’re just as confused as we are.

Note: Admittedly, my experience in Lucknow has been sprinkled (well, drenched) with frustrating experiences like this one. Take, for example, the guys who deliberately tried to run us over with their motorcycles. Or constantly being stereotyped into a mold, whether it be Chinese, American, foreign, female, (meat?,) or any combination of the above.

In spite of all this, I have no regrets about being here, and I am incredibly grateful for this experience. There are many things, both tangible and intangible, I appreciate about living here. Perhaps I vent because venting is a survival mechanism; the empathy elicited validates my reactions and emotions, and the humor that results from retelling the story helps me put the experience behind me.

Challenges Facing DSH: Middleman Woes

Summary: As a third party intermediary, DSH face unique challenges it would not face as a direct service provider (e.g., a school). These challenges, however, are far outweighed by the opportunity to effect widespread systemic change as an intermediary.

The DSH model is not a direct service model; as a third party, DSH is an enabler, a way to achieve better results. As such, DSH faces some unique challenges, the main ones being:

Fundraising: For most nonprofits, fundraising is the biggest challenge. However, it is often even more difficult for an intermediary like DSH; most folks want to see their money having direct impact and going directly to the ultimate beneficiary (the students). For that reason, schools and service providers will have a much easier time getting funding.

Partnerships: DSH cannot run without committed partners, whether they be on the user side (schools, teachers, etc.) or the content development side. Finding partners who share your priorities and agenda, however, can often be difficult. And, even with the perfect partner, maintaining the relationship is no easy task.

Accountability: As an enabler, DSH has to operate through schools and teachers. One of the biggest challenges in doing so is that DSH does not have the authority to hold people accountable. We can’t fire teachers who don’t show up to class. Instead, we have to work within the confines of the broken system, to try to improve incrementally.

Impact: We don’t get to see how our work is impacting the students day in and day out. Instead, we have to rely on intermittent field visits and the teachers’ word, making it hard to assess the actual impact of our work. Additionally, this leads to another challenge of truly understanding what works well and what doesn’t.

On the other hand, there are distinct benefits to being an intermediary, which far outweigh the challenges. That is, we can ultimately have broader impact as a third party than we can have as direct service provider. Therefore, we have a greater opportunity to effect widespread systemic change.

A Full House

Summary: The list of critters in my apartment continues to grow...

I just cleaned my entire apartment this weekend, yet these past few days I’ve noticed a lot of dirt, etc. in my “inner courtyard” (a euphemism!). This morning, I looked up and discovered the cause: there’s a bird’s nest where a ceiling fan should be installed. It all makes sense now, because I always see birds hanging out on the railings above the courtyard.

The list of critters I’ve inadvertently housed (or am housing) now includes both the mundane and the (somewhat) bizarre: birds, cockroaches, geckos, a mouse, ants, mosquitoes, baby grasshoppers, and a millipede-type worm, amongst others I can’t describe or simply haven’t seen.

Becoming one with nature…Lucknow style.

‘Tis the Season for Marriage

Summary: I recently attended two more marriage functions (a sangeet and a marriage). Splendid!

A neighbor’s daughter recently got married, and, despite the fact that I’ve never met the neighbors, they invited me to the wedding celebrations. Let me preface by saying that this family’s relatively well-off.

Lady’s Sangeet
A ladies’ only event consisting of song and dance, held at the bride’s home. In my understanding, this event was originally created partly to provide women a venue to celebrate the bride’s marriage, as they traditionally don’t engage actively in the festivities at the other functions.

Though the invitation stated a starting time of 4 pm, I arrived at 7 pm (only here would I orchestrate such tardiness), when the event was well underway. I walked past the saddhu and timidly entered the music-filled room, where 30 women were sitting on mattresses laid across the floor. Some women were passively sitting and observing; a handful were actively playing the instruments (“drums”, bells, etc.), singing, and dancing. It was a lovely event, and there was an adorable little girl who approached me and played with me; this was because, as I was told, “I looked different.” I excused myself at around 8 pm with my landlady, but not before they made sure we were fed. We saw the bride only as we were making our exit.


The Marriage
I wish there was more I could report from this front. My landlady helped me wear my sari (bought near Konganapuram two years ago), and I went with the landlord’s family to the function. We arrived over an hour late (after 9 pm), and were apparently still ridiculously early, as the hall was relatively empty.

At the entrance of this brightly decorated venue, we were welcomed by the bride’s father. Walking through the front gate, you enter a courtyard where men are congregated around various food options (chaat, fruit, drinks, etc.). You then enter the building into a great, bright, banquet hall, with rows and rows of nice chairs. I’d estimate 1000 seats or so. Front and center, there’s a stage with four grand chairs: two in the middle for the bride and groom, to be flanked by the bride’s brother and sister. Stage left is a “band” performing music. I can’t forget the plasma screen, which showed a live feed of guests.

For the next 45 minutes, we sit and enjoy some small talk, with the caterers (Royal Café!) bringing us a seemingly endless supply of appetizers and drinks. We then meander over to the bridal room to find the stunningly gorgeous bride sitting on a bench swing with some of her relatives.

At around 10:30, the groom’s party finally approaches the venue (they’ve been slowly making their way, dancing along in the streets), and my landlords decide to head upstairs for the buffet dinner. After dinner, we walk to the outside courtyard where the groom is engaged in ceremonial rituals.

Then, I hear, “Chalo?” (“Shall we go?”) I’m startled, and stumble for a response. I look at my phone. It’s 11 pm.

I’ll admit that I’m a little disappointed I didn’t really see anything. At what point did marriages become more about the food than the celebration of the unity of two families? I’m still grateful for the experience, and I’m still hopeful that I’ll eventually get to see an actual marriage.

I almost forgot. As we walked to the car, my landlady turns to me and says, “The groom has high post, but not looking so good.”