New Year's Eve in Gujurat

Yes, it's New Year's Eve in Gujurat -- one hour to midnight! This place doesn't qualify as the most unusual place I've celebrated New Year's Eve -- that honor goes to a tiny village in Himalayan Nepal where Lydia and I -- hello there, Lydia! -- celebrated New Year's Eve 2001 in the light of lanterns (no electricity) with our trekking guide and a young Belgian couple who were just heading down from the higher mountains and happily enough were carrying a bottle of champagne and a delicious Belgian chocolate bar just for the occasion -- but it's also not familiar Northampton, where Bob and I argue every year about whether or not to watch the ball drop over the Hotel Northampton (I usually want to; he usually doesn't).

Normally there's a celebration here on campus, but because of the 11/08 Mumbai attacks there's apparently been a call to keep public celebration of New Year's to a minimum this year (I'm not sure I really see the connection, but perhaps just in a general spirit of mourning), so it's been cancelled. As a result, Bob and I are doing the quiet thing here in the apartment, with a little help from BBC television. We did have something to celebrate this evening, however, which I never would have guessed would be a source of so much joy for me (and rather less guilt than I might have anticipated) -- we had our first home-cooked meal prepared by the woman who is going to cook and clean for us. It was delicious. Prior to this, we have eaten some dinners in a dining room on campus that is reserved for people who come in for in-service training courses -- and since there's no in-service training course going on now, we've been the only two people (except once) in this large empty dining room, with one very attentive waiter hovering over us. I didn't mind it quite as much as Bob, who described it as dining in a setting like that in the movie "Last Year at Marienbad" -- lonely and bleak. In any event, it certainly wasn't homey. Other nights we either made do with cheese sandwiches on khakharas (wheat crispies) heated in the microwave or cold cereal. To explain why we can't cook for ourselves would involve a fairly lengthy description of the type of cooking utensils and marketing options available here which exceed our ability to cope with -- at least at this point -- but everyone (i.e., Vivek and his wife, Charu, and Bob and I) agreed that as clueless westerners we needed someone more skillful at the local scene to both cook and clean for us. So today our new housekeeper (I guess I am too guilty to say "maid") began. I'm embarassed to say I haven't yet mastered her name, and since she doesn't speak any English and we don't speak any Hindi or Gujurati, our communication so far has been quite limited, but she certainly did manage to whip up a pretty terrific meal of dal, mixed vegetable curry, rice, and home-made chapatis in a kitchen that we can barely boil water in. Charu had taken us into town earlier today to buy the necessary spices, vegetables, and other staples for her to use -- without a guiding hand, we would have hardly known where to begin. If our incompetence seems mysterious to you, I'll try to explain it another time -- for now just take it on faith that without household help we'd be in sad shape.

The big event of the week, of course, has been that I've taught my first three classes -- and I think they went pretty well (you'll have to ask the students if you want a real verdict). Following my colleague Sue Darlington's advice (and therefore being consistent with what I believe to be standard practice here), I quickly taught myself PowerPoint (hurray! something I've been wanting to master for ages) and prepared PowerPoints for each of the first three classes. Luckily, I came with a copy of all the reading material for the course, so I was able to give the readings for the first two weeks (so far; I'll do the rest later this week) to the Duplications people here, who put it into a packet to give to each student (again, the standard practice). I have 30 students in my class. They laughed at most of my jokes (e.g., I called the ground-rules for the class "Rules of the Road" and when I came to that entry on the PowerPoint I said something to the effect that while India and the U.S. had a great deal in common, when it came to "rules of the road" there were vast differences, which earned a good chuckle. Do you know on the highway there was actually a sign that said something like "It's a good idea to stay in your lane" -- because otherwise lanes are irrelevant to the drivers (and that includes cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and pedestrians) who are navigating non-highway streets in or between towns.

Anyway, I digress. At the end of the first class, which introduced the areas we would study and a bit about myself, I asked the students -- actually, they call them "participants" at IRMA, not students, a reflection of the progressive tradition of the school -- to write for about ten minutes on why they had chosen to take this course (it's an elective) and/or any particular interests they had in international law or the environment and/or any experiences they had had, either during their IRMA field placements or otherwise, that related to the subjects of the course. I got quite a few interesting responses (being this is a graduate program, and the participants' ages are somewhat diverse, there is a doctor, several engineers, and other folks with interesting backgrounds), and at least a beginning sense of what is on people's minds. After teaching for so many years, and knowing the Hampshire student body well enough that at this point I can almost predict the various things that people will say about many topics, it's somewhat disorienting to look out at a classroom full of faces that I really can't "read" in the same way. But although they certainly don't leap wildly into discussion like Hampshire students do, and they tend to call me "ma'am," which is also a bit disorienting, and their accents are sufficiently challenging that I have to listen very hard when they speak to catch it all (as I suspect they have to do with me), they have certainly been willing to speak up in response to my questions and have consistently said very useful and interesting things. We even got a bit of a debate going in today's class, which was on the controversy in India over whether or not to create more tiger sanctuaries to save the tiger from extinction that would involve the expulsion of local people, especially so-called "tribals," from the area -- one participant being skeptical of so much effort going into saving tigers while people were poor and hungry, and two others being much more "pro-tiger." When I said I was happy to see that I had both a tiger skeptic and two tiger advocates in the class, everyone laughed, and I felt like we were all connecting. At least I hope so.

I was going to put up a bunch of photos on the blog this evening, but since for some reason it was taking an absurdly long time for them to upload, I'll leave it at two -- one of me on the street in Delhi near our guest house when we first arrived, and one of the IRMA campus. I'll try to supplement these soon. Also, since it's five minutes to midnight, it's time to stop. There may be no celebration on the campus -- which is very quiet -- but just out beyond the wall that surrounds the campus, there is plenty of music playing loudly and what sounds like the start of fireworks, so there must be some serious partying going on. Even though it's not that far to walk to the edge of campus, and only about a kilometer more into town, I don't think Bob and I are ready yet to go wandering around out there at midnight, so we'll just enjoy the music from here. Good night all -- and may we all have a grand 2009, wherever we may be.

Home to Anand

We left Delhi for our flight to Anand (actually, to Vadodara, the nearest city to Anand with a commercial airport) on Wednesday afternoon at about 2 p.m., and from there everything was uneventful – on the plane by 5 p.m., landing in Vadodara at 7:40 p.m. We were met by a driver from IRMA, who – silently, as we’ve discovered is the norm (chattiness, at least with strangers, doesn’t seem to be the standard practice) – drove us the ninety minutes or so to Anand. Our brief glimpse of the town at night suggested that it was a relatively poor, rural town – certainly nothing like Delhi – but we passed through quickly and went into the gates of the Institute for Rural Management (IRMA) campus, which is a spacious, quiet, leafy place surrounded by walls. Two men who I initially thought, to my surprise, were either military or police – but I learned later were actually just campus security guards – met us at our apartment and showed us around. Their English was minimal, so I caught only some of the instructions they gave (e.g., “hot,” “cold,” pointing out the taps in the sink) and not others (well, those I can’t describe, of course). Then they left, and we were – alone.

Left in our new “home” that was minimally furnished, undecorated, and – although it is standard faculty housing – considerably less luxurious than the house we’d left behind in Northampton, Bob and I both had a moment of dismay – a sudden “what-are-we-doing-here?” sinking of the heart. The spareness of the apartment, augmented by the impersonality of our greeting by barely-English speaking security guards was distressing – where was our welcome? What had we come to? Fortunately, just as we were trying to hide our distress and be cheerful for one another, the phone rang, and it was Vivek (our former Hampshire colleague who now directs IRMA) asking how we were and saying he would drop by momentarily to take us to the IRMA staff Christmas eve festivities. This helped enormously, and he came by and walked with us to the party taking place on the lawn around the corner from our apartment block, which was a very cheering event. On stage, there was a Santa in an odd (to western eyes) Santa mask with a group of kids singing; a camel cart filled to the brim with laughing children was jogging around the perimeter of the party space (who knew that camels could trot along so swiftly?); and a long line of primarily IRMA staff, with some students and faculty, waited in line for cake, talking with one another. Twinkling colored lights strung everywhere gave it a festive air. Although there is a Christian minority at IRMA (and in Anand generally) – about 10%, I think Vivek said – apparently Christmas is celebrated generally in India in any event as a secular holiday – the philosophy seems to be “the more festivals the merrier.”

I talked briefly with a faculty member – mostly pleasantries – and at greater length with the first year class representative, whom I liked a lot. He had come to IRMA after working for two years at HSBC Bank because he found that work unsatisfying and wanted something more meaningful to do. He seemed excited about the opportunities IRMA offered (lots of fieldwork placements in NGOs and villages as well as academics – it’s kind of the Northeastern Law School of Indian management programs), and also enthusiastic about having Bob and me meet and talk with students – made me feel wanted. I began to feel excitement -- rather than my initial distress – about what lay ahead.

And now, three days later (I can hardly believe we’ve been here almost three days – so much still feels so new!), I am definitely beginning to feel more at home bit by slow bit. The last few days have been almost entirely taken up with errands and routine tasks connected to settling in – broken by periods of deferred jet lag that have caused us to drop dead asleep at 3 in the afternoon, what was meant to be a brief nap turning into sleeping through supper. Then we force ourselves to get out of bed at 9 or so, eat a bit and wander around our apartment bleary-eyed for an hour or two, watch some TV (there’s a huge array of channels, both Gujurati and Hindi speaking and English-speaking – satellite TV, I guess), and fall back into bed until morning. Tonight we’re actually going to try to stay up until supper (which is eaten late, at about 8 p.m.), and begin living a more normal daily timetable.

Thursday a.m. we went “downtown” with Vivek to stock up on basic house supplies (tea, juice, napkins, etc. and even a cute red toaster), then had a long, late lunch at his house with him and his wife Charu and their two daughters and his parents who were visiting from out of town. After that, as reported above, we went home to “rest” and didn’t wake until nighttime. Yesterday I got set up at the school – got my office (in the faculty office building, which is in easy walking distance of our apartment), got materials duplicated for my first week of classes – which start Monday! can you believe?? – talked with the professor who is head of the academic program about various IRMA information (grading, class schedule, exams – it was a fairly formal discussion). There was a faculty meeting in the late afternoon, and although the turn-out was low (and entirely male!) because many faculty are still away on holiday break, Bob and I came and introduced ourselves to the faculty who were there. There’s also some academic politics going on at the school with the Board of Governors due to meet next week, and some fairly significant decisions about various issues pending, so Vivek’s been immersed in that, and the faculty meeting after we left was apparently fairly heated. Of course, we are pretty oblivious to all that. Right after our introductions we were whisked away downtown by a staff member to get our cell phones, which we did, successfully, in a tiny cell phone store packed with salesmen and customers and the very latest in equipment. The entire digital infrastructure is very advanced here (cell phones, Internet, etc. all available and used by everyone everywhere), which is quite surprising to our eyes in a place that in other ways seems more “primitive” – i.e., bumpy, narrow roads, open stalls for many shops, as many bicycles, motorbikes, and pedestrians as there are cars. It’s like they just jumped over the entire analog era.

And, for everyone’s information, our cell phone numbers are 971-208-9647 (me) and 971-208-9648 (Bob) – I assume from the U.S. you would have to dial 011-91 in front of that. We do also have a landline in our apartment, the number of which is – from the U.S. – 011-91-269-222-1777. But since there’s no message machine on that line, you’re probably better off Skyping or calling our cell phones rather than using that number unless there’s an emergency.

Today, Saturday, has been a pleasantly quiet day: late breakfast at our apartment (we’ve started getting the newspaper delivered in the morning, so Bob is feeling much closer to his “normal” routine, which always starts by reading the newspaper, though he hasn’t discovered any local coffee shops yet); email at my office; some time just hanging out with Vivek at his office; and a very enjoyable lunch with an IRMA alumnus from the first graduating class who runs what’s called the “South Indian Federation of Fisherman Societies,” based in Kerala, which organizes fishermen into co-ops. His name is Vivek Vivekanandan, and he’s now on the IRMA Board of Governors, which is why he’s here (for the meeting coming up this week). We found him very easy and enjoyable to talk to – our few conversations with other folks so far have seemed more stiff and formal, but he was lively and interesting – we discussed, among other things, what’s happening to fishermen and other local people in a region of Gujurat not far from here called Kutch as oil companies and other industries are being given permission by the central government to buy up big chunks of property along the coast, and local people are losing their access to the sea. A (sadly) familiar story in many ways – the defeat of the small by the Big – we swapped some tales of resistance from India and the U.S.

I’m sitting in a coffee shop on Green Park Extension in Delhi; no wireless, unfortunately, but I’m doing a blog entry I can put up next time I’ve got access to the Internet. Two days ago we set out from Northampton to NYC in a snowstorm, which fortunately turned to rain somewhere south of New Haven, for our final day in the U.S. for some time. Arrived at Tova and Harris’s apartment in Park Slope around noon, enjoyed seeing how much better it looked since they had painted and furnished it then under the previous owner’s decor, and then went up to Harris’s parents’ apartment on E. 58^th St. for a Chanukah meal and farewell. They have huge windows looking out on the 59^th St. bridge and the cable car to Roosevelt Island – it’s a bit like being in the middle of a children’s train set-up grown giant, all kinds of interesting activity to look at right outside. Pebbles plied us with delicious food and we met Harris’s brother and sister-in-law and adorable niece Bryn, and then at 5 we left for Newark Airport and our 8:40 plane to Delhi. Although advertised until the last minute as being on schedule, in fact at the last minute it was late, and we didn’t leave until almost 10 p.m. After the endless journey, a great deal of which I slept through (I had, after all, been up all night the previous night trying frantically to finish many things I had left to do until the last possible minute – from work to house preparations – it was an extremely embarrassing illustration of how bad my procrastination problem has become, and one New Year’s resolution for 2009 has to be doing something about that!), we arrived in Delhi around 11 p.m. (that’s the next day we’re talking about) and were met by a driver from USEFI who was to take us to our hotel, the Green Meadows Guest House. Even as jet-lagged and generally exhausted as we were by that point, when we drove by the same landmarks for the third time we realized the driver was completely lost, and despite his several cell phone conversations with the guest house owner (whose number we fortunately had), he continued to drive us in circles for some time longer, until finally, as it was approaching the point where my weariness and increasing car-sickness (and I never, normally, get car-sick) were close to driving me to throttle the guy, he somehow stumbled on the right street and location. Hooray!! I was so happy to be welcomed by the very nice owner and to plop down on the very comfortable bed and drift off to much-needed sleep.

This morning I awoke remarkably refreshed at 8 or so, and after a quick breakfast at the guest house, we took a cab to the Fulbright headquarters downtown, where we met with Girish Kaul and the young and very personable new director of USEFI, Adam. Then I called Jane Shukoske, the former USEFI director who’s a friend of my friend Peggy’s, and she both gave us a recommendation for a lunch place and arranged to meet us for dinner about 6 p.m. The lunch was at the Oxford Book Shop, a very nice (and western( bookshop/café right outside of Connaught Circle that we could walk to from USEFI – perfect for relaxing as a second wave of tiredness began to sweep over. And the book selection was terrific – I ended up with two, one of environmentalists and leftists, and another on women and militarism. After lunch we went back to the hotel and I promptly slipped into a nap as soon as I lay down. When Jane came I was alert again, and she took us to a lovely South Indian restaurant near a deer park – we even saw the deer pacing around out back. It’s in a section of Delhi called Haus , which Jane said has origins as a village going back to the 11^th or 12^th century, and is now gentrified with antique shops – we met the proprietor of one, Mrs. Jain, a friend of Jane’s, and since she was closing up, we might go back to see her shop tomorrow. Or not, depending on how tired we are. By three tomorrow we need to head back to the airport for our flight to Vadodara – both Bob and I are actually quite eager to get to Anand and get settled into our new digs – we’ll come back and explore Delhi further later, I’m sure

Six Days and Counting. . . .

Considering that one of my major faults is deadline-itis (i.e., getting things done at the last possible minute or after), I am absolutely stunned that as of today, Bob and I have not only packed and shipped a DHL "jumbo box" (which is not so jumbo) with books, papers, and other items for Anand, but I have also almost finished packing my suitcase! Could this be because I'm procrastinating on doing my evaluations? Whatever the reason, it does feel good to have the packing part close to done, and to have this week to concentrate on finishing up a ton of work for Hampshire, not to mention all those other errands and cleaning out the house for our tenants. So, it will still be a sprint to the finish line, but having the clothes thing under control -- usually a major obsession for me when I go on a trip -- feels like a big achievement.

In between packing, we had a lovely weekend, since Sarah came out to visit -- which was terrific -- and we did a bit of brunch-hopping on Sunday: first to Harris and Cathy's house (o.k., maybe their brunch was technically a pre-hip surgery send-off for Cathy, but we felt like we were getting the send-off vibes as well), and then to Janet and Bob's, which was "officially" a farewell brunch for us. It's amazing how much mileage you can get out of a five-month trip to India -- and we haven't even left yet!

But even with all the packing and brunching and learning to use Skype and less than a week left before we fly to Delhi, it still doesn't feel entirely real. Maybe it will sink in tomorrow?