A few personal observations of India

A few of you wrote to me asking for my impressions on India. Full disclosure, I left to go see my amazing friend S. get married to the love of her live E. in Israel about a week after my arrival in Chennai, so my observations, while personal and authentic, cover only a brief stay in India. So here goes…

Darwinian driving rules & maximization of available space

So remember that game from the ’80 – I don’t remember the name, but the interface was pretty simple and the player needed to wade through oncoming cars. I describe driving, walking and biking in Chennai as a happy mutation between this game, whose name escapes me, and Tetris. On the other hand, if you happen to be the pedestrian in this environment, you are basically packman’s prey. The rules of driving in Chennai are simple, survival of the fittest and largest. Buses yield to no one, and I mean NO ONE, while trucks yield to buses. There exists a separate hierarchy among trucks depending on size gasoline and refuse carriers are at the top of the hierarchy, while small TATA made trucks and auto rickshaw trucks exist at the very bottom. Cars yield to trucks and buses, although this also depends on their size. SUVs have freer rein on the road than, let’s say ford fiestas. Auto rickshaws, or simply “autos”, yield to all cars, trucks and buses. Motorcycles and Mopeds yield to buses, trucks, cars, and “autos.” People who ride bikes yield to motorcycles, mopeds, “autos,” cars, trucks and buses. The pedestrian, as you may have already guessed occupies the bottom of this Darwinian road hierarchy. With sidewalks virtually non-existent, life of the pedestrian, yours truly, is at the same time adrenaline-inducing and terrifying. 

People don’t usually wear seatbelts. “Autos” do not have any seatbelts at all. Commuters make use of every available inch of seating in all vehicles. Pretty often one can spot a man, his wife and infant on the same moped, sans safety belts and helmets. Considering the Darwinian driving environment, families on bikes take serious risks getting on the road. Ahh, the “auto” quite comfortable in the heat while moving, sticky and not so fun when your driver stops at a gas station, about 25 m from when you got on and negotiated your destination and fare. Fare negotiations are a challenge. Don’t get me wrong, I am not fooling myself into believing I am getting a fair price, I am as pale as any human you may encounter in life. However I take offence at getting highway robbery rates. Having spent significant time periods in the Middle East, haggling for a moderately fair price is a way of life; otherwise the person providing you with the service will not respect you. I stand on principle. Speaking a few words of Tamil both generates good will and easier rate negotiation with “auto” drivers. Even though, the stakes of this price negotiation are minimal, I haggle with pride.

Pants optional

Due to the extremely hot and humid climate in Chennai and other parts of India, some men wear lungi instead of pants. A lungi, also known as a sarong, is a long garment worn around the waist by South Asian men. I knew that, but what I did not know is that there is a summer knee length lungi, also popular in town. Rewrapping your lungi in the middle of the street is also perfectly acceptable. Watch out girls, if your legs are not covered, you get stares from men. With that said, unlike in Delhi men will not harass you. 

Malls & Bathrooms

The malls in Chennai encompass more space than I noticed in any other public or retail spaces in this city. Malls here take up significant space and feature a wide selection of Western-style women’s clothing. However, most people you encounter on the streets, including expats do not wear Western-style clothing. The very humid and hot climate of Chennai and its surrounding areas makes it virtually impossible to wear fabrics and styles which we wear in the West. Besides the lack of comfort in with type of clothing, Western-style clothing does not hold up to the number of washes needed to keep clothes fresh and clean. So who actually buys these clothes? How do these stores justify paying their rent? I am not sure yet, but when I find out, I will definitely share my findings. Oh, we also passed a store exclusively for grooms; I offered to get married to A. once again just to see him with in full South Indian wedding regalia on a white horse. Also I believe I can totally rock the red and gold sari, with my weight in gold jewelry.

Last weekend A. and I went to our first movie in India and we went to see X-men. The movie theater felt like a nightclub, complete with a bouncer at the door, wonderful AC, and pumping techno. The screening rooms had seats for couples and singles, a first for me. Halfway through the movie we got an intermission followed by about 20 minutes of ads from local merchants. I went to the toilet and felt like a queen. I literally sat on a toilet throne, installed on a raised platform. The stalls also featured a yet to be connected sink, dryer, and a decorative fountain. The working sinks in the more public area of the ladies’ room were pretty cool. There were no sinks per say, just a solid slab of marble with water spouts positioned just above the slab. The motion activated water spouts and water drained behind the slab of marble to a hidden drainage ditch. Oh yes, our tickets cost $6 for the two of us.

Miscellaneous

Before departure, our State Department nurse instructed us to brush our teeth with filtered water as unfiltered water is not so safe in this neck of the woods. We’ve also been ordering drinks with no ice as a precaution. I went shopping with two of my husband’s co-workers and brought my first salwar kameez (kurta and dupatta as its called in Chennai). The outfit includes a fuchsia pair of pants – I think more fabric went in the making of the pants than the shirt (kurta). The pants can comfortably fit three of me. Our cook-maid remarked that I was wearing a lunghi, which is what men wear here in lieu of pants. I was wearing a halter dress which ties around my neck. Watch out ladies, apparently I am now a trend setter!

Enough with the personal stuff, next up – markets!

Tamil 101: Week 6

Last week I arrived at the halfway point in my crazy endeavor to learn a little bit of Tamil. For the first few weeks of class I shared a classroom with 4 other students all Foreign Service officers posted to Chennai, India in the near future. While their mandatory language training consists of approximately six months of intensive language classes, I have 12 weeks to learn as many Tamil words and grammatical concepts as humanly possible. Since a significant divergence between the times allotted for me and my classmates to learn Tamil exists, my awesome instructors separated me from the rest of the class to give me a more intense and quicker introduction to the language. As a result, in addition to one hour of language lab every day I am locked in three hours of intense awkward Tamil conversation with three different instructors.

 

I am pretty sure the conversation is more awkward on my end, since I am the one that does not speak Tamil. Thus far studying Tamil has been quite a challenge. I never thought I would hear myself say this, but I miss studying Arabic! Fortunately my instructors bring different sets of skills into the classroom teaching me the language in different ways. I am enjoying language class. Well, minus the Tamil sized meltdown I had a few weeks ago, where my brain literally froze and I could not respond to anything. I admit that was a pretty crappy day and I do not think I’ve made it a great teaching experience for my instructors. 

I want to give great big thanks to all of my Tamil instructors as they are incredibly committed to seeing each and every student succeed. I am so grateful for them making space in their schedules for me. Although I have no idea of my progress, since now I can’t manically plot my language learning progress as it compares to my former classmates; I did in the past and I don’t think that was too productive - I think I am making a bit of headway. Last Friday using language skills of a three year old, I had my first economics conversation. I compared taste quality of American fruits and vegetables to those grown in India. We talked about how weather and infrastructure has either a positive or negative effect on supplying food to local markets. Do I know the words for supply, demand, market (had to ask that one), and infrastructure? Not yet, but then a three year old would not know how to use those words anyway.

What I was able to say and am pretty smug about it, was that fruit and veggies in the USA are picked before they are ripe and are delivered to the stores before they are ready to be eaten - that is why fruit and vegetables in the US are not very flavorful. I asked my instructor about the taste of fruits and vegetables in India. I am afraid I do not know the word for produce, excuse my repetition of “fruits and vegetables.” My instructor responded that fruits and vegetables in India are very flavorful. We debated the merits of constant sunlight and picking produce when it is ripe. However, I said India has a different problem, 75% of its produce spoils before it gets to markets, because of lack of refrigeration during transportation and bad roads. 

In other news, I am not sure if it was the effect of Sudafed or my tired brain on instant replay, but last night I dreamed that I was doing my Tamil homework over and over again. I would wake up every once in a while realizing that it’s the middle of the night and I am in bed, but fell asleep only to dream about doing Tamil homework.

Tamil 101: Week 1

Below are a few impressions and thoughts on my first week in language class. I am in a class of five smart and capable professionals and we study with three wonderful instructors for five long hours each day. Whoa, I thought six hours of Arabic a week was more than I could handle; now I am up to 25 hours a week. This is definitely an intense and unique language experience. 

I can best describe my language abilities in two ways; extreme natural ability combined with a terrible work ethic. I enjoy language study and possess an innate ability to pick up subtleties of inflection, pronunciation, and grammar, however I am a terribly lazy language student – I just don’t study enough to capitalize on my natural talents. My husband is the exact opposite, language study is hard for him, he does not really enjoy it, but he has a serious comparative advantage over me – man he works hard! He sits there and studies for hours and all the hard work pays off in big ways. I marvel at his commitment and hard work. I wish I was more like him in that respect.

Tamil is hard, really hard. The alphabet has lots of vowels and consonants. Both letters are somewhat hard to pronounce. In the vowel section, there are distinct vowels for long and short sounds; such as e and eee, u and uuu, o and ooo. Tamil also has some sounds that we take for granted in English, but don’t assign distinct characters to; like ay and aw. There are five N characters/sounds, all distinct according to my instructors, but tend to sound the same towards hour five of language class. There are also three distinct L characters/sounds, and at least two R characters/sounds. Did I mention that in Tamil, you don’t read in a linear fashion? When combined with consonants, vowels look completely different than in the alphabet. Tamil uses punctuation very sparsely, making this language one of the most rapidly spoken languages in the world. Lastly, at least to my ear, Tamil sounds a bit tonal. I think technically, Tamil does not fall into a tonal language category, such as Cantonese, Mandarin, or Korean, but it sure sounds tonal to this student. 

I succeed in using every major and minor muscle in my mouth, leaving my mouth and jaw tender and painful at the end of each day of class. I think I met my linguistic match. I will need to work a lot harder than in the past. At the end of this week I asked my husband, “so when you first started learning Tamil, did you feel like you somehow ended up in a special education class?” He responded, “Yes and what’s worse is that I felt like I belonged there.” I think that just about sums it up. Although, I am currently sitting in the back of the short bus, but am enjoying (almost) every minute of language study.

In other news, the Hebrew class is right around the corner. During a break, I started chatting with the students in Hebrew. They started asking me if I was one the teachers. Score! My Hebrew is still alive and kicking, hidden somewhere in the recesses of my tired brain.

First Day of Class!

Mechanical pencil – check, mostly pristine notebook (somehow a number of different “to do” and shopping lists already invaded its pages) – check, lunchbox – ok I am way too old for that. I am ready for my first day of class.  I love language class and I am really excited to start. For months now, I’ve been keeping my fingers crossed that a space for me will materialize in the next Tamil class. On the other hand, the “to do” lists might’ve crept into the pristine notebook I’ve been saving for the occasion, because, let’s be honest, “space available” is not much to hang one’s hat on and I did not want to hope and rely on a space opening up in a language class too much. Nevertheless, I’m in a class and I start tomorrow! 

Speaking of things like “hanging one’s hat on (something),” “raining cats and dogs,” how are we supposed to understand idioms? I did not grow up speaking English. I immigrated to the US when I was nine. The combination of my age, natural linguistic ability (which in my case comes paired with its evil twin; language study laziness), and excellent hearing got me absolutely no accent in English. In fact, I do well with pronunciation in other languages as well.

I sound like I was born in the US; I can affect a slight British accent, a pretty authentic Brooklyn accent, sometimes a light Boston accent and oh yes, while living in Israel, I did a pretty authentic Russian accent in Hebrew. The Russian accented Hebrew requires a quick digression. Anyone American that has travelled abroad knows that an American accent usually translates into “wealthy American” in most languages. Since when I lived in Israel, I was living off my savings from a former NGO job and tutored an American diplomat in Russian for an hour once a week which got me 70 shekels (20 USD), I did not want to sound American = wealthy. Therefore, I affected a Russian accent while speaking Hebrew, and in Israel a Russian accent usually translates into; new immigrant, not so wealthy.

However, I’ve never stopped wondering about idioms and how the hell did they enter speech? “Raining cats and dogs” how does that even make sense? In Russian you have an equivalent to “raining buckets,” but in Russian you say roughly “raining out a bucket.” In Hebrew you have what translates to “waste of time,” if you had to guess you would say this might be a bad thing, right? Actually, you say “haval ala zman” (waste of time) after you spent time doing something great. This makes no sense, just like a heavy downpour described as “raining cats and dogs.” As a language nerd, idioms have always held a special place in my heart. I hope to add to my collection very soon.

Transition

I am joining the blogging world, when the novelty of blogging has worn off and it is no longer considered unusual. I am a bit of reluctant blogger, but understanding the realities of my new-found path, I feel that this is the most efficient way to keep friends and family up to date on our adventures in this big wide world. I am also acceding to demands of a dear friend, valued colleague, and classmate K. Lovely K. has been begging me to start a blog prior to departing from the US, so that she can live vicariously through me, from the safety of her web-comic decorated cubicle. I anticipate a journey filled with lots of social awkwardness, nerdy glory, cultural firsts, commentary and of course large numbers of linguistic trial and error. As always, hilarity ensues.

Incidentally, today is an interesting day for my first post. My contract with a small and dynamic international consulting firm ends tomorrow. After I graduated from the best grad school on the planet – an Ode to SAIS post will hit the virtual presses soon – I looked for contract work as my days in DC were numbered due to the vagaries of my husband’s new career. I succeeded in finding coveted contract work through an amazing network of SAIS alumni. I think Shakespeare put it best – “parting is such sweet sorrow.” For the last seven months I performed the type of research, analysis, and writing that I got used to doing at SAIS as a paid contractor. I performed country risk analysis, market entry research, economic overviews, regulatory, legislative, and demand analysis. This was an amazing opportunity in a place where I felt intellectually challenged, contributed and learned a great deal. I made friends, developed professional contacts and had a great time completing my assignments. 

Alas, I also wrestled with the tentative hope of getting a spot in a language class prior to our departure. Thus, I am leaving to take advantage of a wonderful opportunity afforded to partners of Foreign Service officers, the coveted language course.  Although, I will miss my job and especially my friend K, I am also excited to start learning a new language! So for those that don’t know me, I am kind of a language nerd and besides English, speak Russian, Arabic, Hebrew, Ukrainian, as well as survival Spanish and Italian. With the exception of English, I will not use any of my language skills at our post. To rectify this omission I will start Tamil language class, a rather difficult language hailing from the Dravidian language family spoken by our future neighbors. Speaking Tamil is not an absolute necessity for where I end up working and most people that attended secondary school speak English. Learning Tamil will not only help me get around independently, it will also help me learn more about the place that we will call home for the next few years. I wish to respect our hosts by speaking to them in Tamil and hope not insult Tamil speakers by mangling their language - let’s be honest – mangling Tamil is the most likely outcome.

So Tamil – new alphabet, words made up of an average of 20 syllables, sparse punctuation, flashcards, and memorization – here I come!