Innovations, Inc.

Yesterday was the much dreaded but extremely crucial day that every resident alien encounters on her traverses back home: the visa day. After going through my papers for roughly the hundredth time I headed to the consulate. If the sheer magnitude of the task at hand has not succeeded in scaring you out of your wits end then the stringent entry restriction at the embassy certainly will. I was told that my zippered black messenger bag was too ominous a piece of paraphenelia to carry into the consulate grounds. And that was not all: I was stripped of cell phone, pager and basically every piece of communication except my larynx before I finally stumbled in carrying about ten armfuls worth of documents in two weary ones.

If the entry restrictions are stringent anything that goes on the forms is even more so. Within minutes, I was sent right back outside because the picture was not of the right size, shape and color (thankfully the shapes and colors of the visages themselves are exempt from this scrutiny, because what usually ends up on the form in such circumstances is a countenance with one too many tense facial muscles and profuse sweating).

I walked out in a daze with less than a half hour to get the job done before my 1 pm interview. Now to first find a public telephone to make a desperate plea for help and then a studio would take about a half hour in the crowded area of the city that harbors the embassy; I wasn’t even thinking about picture taking and development. But much to my glee (or whatever qualifies as glee under such circumstances) no sooner had I exited, than a bunch of autorickshaw operators came at me yelling “photo, photo?”.

In heart-racing-thriller fashion, I was whisked away to an obscure photo studio where the picture taking, development, drying and gluing took less than 20 minutes. I was brought back just shy of 1 pm, enough to make my interview.

It took one innovative auto~driver to connect the dots, literally, from the young and aspiring US-hopeful (of whom there are millions) to the very poorly elucidated instructions on the consulate website (that change at the rate of a thousand bytes a second) to the photo studio that is willing to devote its time to rapid-fire picture taking that no other in the vicinity is likely to do. In any other time and place this might have been an excellent business strategy and millions of dollars might have been involved. I got away with a measly 600 Indian rupees, a couple of pictures that I clutched close to my heart as I returned and a visa that’s hopefully on its way soon…..

In a place like India people can often dream up brilliant ideas without that quintessential B-school class and often times before being able to afford that self-improvement guide on the New York Times bestseller list. To use a paraphrased but much overused and clichéd phrase, “Necessity is the mother of in(ova)tion.”

India's predicament

Ask any fairly informed person what India’s biggest problem is and they would tell you that it is the population. That’s more than obvious after engaging in so much as a well-illustrated piece in National Geographic, an extended documentary on PBS or a quick trip to the country. But what I am talking about here is a lesser known, less ominous yet extremely potent by-product of this – one that borders on the sociological that most people in India would deem too frivolous to worry about in the face of real problems, and that really is my point. While the sight of hungry children begging for food on the streets or of poorly clothed men languishing without basic amenities is heart-wrenching, what is almost just as disturbing is the spectacle of grown men yelling at each other over road blockades, workers at airport security making life hell for travel-weary passengers, people displaying less than what would qualify as civil behavior in public places and the constant need to prod, urge and downright beg to get even the smallest of matters accomplished.

Ever wondered how life itself would improve significantly if people were simply “nice”? There are times when those at “Information” really cannot help or the people at Tech support gave you the wrong installation software by accident, but it would make things better if they would just acknowledge in some way that they would really like to right the wrongs and make life a little easier, not just because it is their job but also because you are a fellow human being. The reasons for this recurring problem in India are twofold, both stemming from the big populace: one, there are too many of us: it’s hard to respect another individual when you are predominantly looking at him as a hindrance in that dangerous race called survival of the fittest. Two: we have bigger problems to deal with than being polite. What people don’t get is that they are not mutually exclusive: you could smile and still run to catch that bus you are running late for.

I must, however, say that decorum has improved significantly. Due to my less than desirable experiences here three years ago, I came with a preemptive strategy – one that involves screaming and yelling and a lot of white-knuckled fisting before the problem is even fully realized – but I contend that I haven’t had to use it much. That’s not because things are happening any faster or better – it still takes at least five stops at five different banks to get your money changed and the cable guy hasn’t come around to fix our internet in two weeks, but at least people are beginning to be polite and apologetic about it.

It’s probably the tech revolution (so people aren’t gritting their teeth in front of their computers as much), it’s probably the American influences (the guys at Marry Jones eatery likely observed a Burger King on TV), it’s probably the call waiting centers (I bet dealing with angry American customers requires extensive training in frivolous niceties), but I am not complaining...it's made life here a little easier.

A Distant Familarity

It's a different world out here, one I have not kept up with, one I have lost track of, one I have broken away from, but yet one I am strangely familiar with...

After spending close to twenty four hours on air (on flights that were required to be no more than 18 hours in toto) I'm on land now -- and a very different land than one I've gotten used to the past few years -- a land where cows roam freely alongside cars on the streets, where each reckless driver is at his unrestrained best, where autorickshaws often sputter but get you to your intended destination, where you can pull down the window and yell at a fellow human being but no bridges are burned....There's a lot I have to look at, a lot I have to see, and there is no doubt that I will whine and complain, teeth will grind, fist bones may emaciate and hair will soon be dishevelled but something tells me I will love it all the same...

It's still strange that I have to 'get used to' a world I was once accustomed to. I now have to stop short of that "thankyou" I overuse lest the store person thought I was a little too suspiciously affable, I search for words and stop in mid sentence as my mind kick starts a rapid translation and sometimes just plonk whole sentences in English between well crafted sentences in my native language, my hand stands in midair as I reach for that paper towel, I often retrace steps from the wrong side of the car (and more importantly swing across to the "right" side of the street just in time).......

The Rat Race is on...

Like Newt Gingrich said on Fox News Sunday, “...these candidates are running for an entire year — to get into a campaign to run for an entire year to get sworn in in January of 2009.”

Really! There’re so many candidates, it’s hard to keep track. It reminds me of the California recall election to replace the infamous Gray Davis (that prompted the Simpsons to do a powerful parody where practically everybody – including Homer - runs for Mayor of the town. Sitcoms and comedy shows can actually do away with the “creativity” department because the politicians seem to be doing the funny bit all on their own...Think Dean’s scream and Allen’s makaka moment).

As for ’08, there are the stars, of course, led by Hillary and Barack Obama (who’s unseated Edwards from the throne of “purty face”, which, ironically enough, has given the latter more credibility. Also, recall that he wins in the experience and age departments), followed closely by Rudy (go Giulliani!) and McCain. Of the front running Gippers, one’s too libertarian and the other’s too pro-war.

Then there are the candidates lurking in the shadows, just waiting to pounce at a political gaffe; Biden has already had a shot at that with his patronizing comment on fellow contender Barack (a la Kerry, he has a wide open mouth with too many words), Mitt Romney proclaims he’s going to give the republicans what they want (and he might be the only one considering he’s the sole social conservative running). Bill Richardson probably has good prospects considering his foreign policy experience and he can ride on that wave that no senator has won the White House since JFK – more govs, anyone?

The meat coma

When the cold has reached the deep recesses of your bones, what could be better than an endless supply of red meat for insulation. Well, fleece works, wool’s pretty unflappable and down’s downright impervious, but they don’t seem to go very well with the scintillating house red!

Since the wind chill yesterday hit below zero, we needed no further coaxing. Planned a trip to the local Brazilian rodizio where servers come to the table armed with different cuts of meat on a skewer. And just when you think it couldn’t get any better, they slice out a mouth-watering piece of just the right cut, done to just the right degree.

Filet mignon, pork ribs, lamb chops, tender sirloin, chicken wrapped in crispy bacon, the works. And if you tired of the meat (god forbid!), there’s always the salad bar to rummage in, not to mention a generous helping of sides. Though I must say it was hard to tell the plantains from the peppers after gorging on all the heavy fare – meat coma, I think they call it.

But that’s the good kind, if ever there was one....

Fogo de Chao -- hands down, best churrascaria in Philly

Breaking yet another hiatus...

I take on a new avocation, like it, love it, get obsessed with it, go overboard with it and then tire of it.

It happened with instant messaging, it happened with discussion forums, it happened with online chat rooms, why, it has even happened with email! And now it’s happened with blogging as well.

Technology seems to especially instigate this form of crest and trough mentality – my guess is that it changes so rapidly, it piques human interest in a way few things do. And our attention span is somewhat shorter than the fast pace of technology. So there! That’s my excuse.

This revitalization is actually part of a class assignment – which means I’m going to keep to it. Also the reason why the blog will be changing its tone a bit for the next few months: rather than rambling on and on about whatever has the misfortune of catching my fancy at a particular moment, I am going to try and convey my thoughts on a broader range of issues, which will hopefully include politics, science, technology, food, drink, Philly and sports.

Talking of current, the big thing in Philly right now is ice-skating (although we’re just calling it moving around!). Will be quite an adventure to get to work and later to an evening class today!