FAQ

People keep asking me the same questions, so now I'm going to answer them.

How is work?
Let's just say there is a reason I haven't discussed work on my blog: some of my coworkers have discovered it. I have been unhappy with the project I'm assigned to for a variety of reasons I really shouldn't post online. However, I had a good meeting with my boss today and I think things are going to improve. When they do, I'll blog about work.

How is your roommate?
Sam (short for Samantha) is awesome. She's from Berkeley, graduated Princeton in 2008 and spent this past year getting a masters in War Studies at King's College in London. She studied insurgencies and terrorism (yup, she's pretty badass). She is in Delhi to work for the Center for Policy Research and is looking at Lashkar-e-Taiba, the Pakistani terrorist group that carried out the attacks on Mumbai last November. Her father is Mexican, mom Jewish. It's pretty funny that we're both Jewish, and we hope to host some Friday night Shabbos dinners. Someone should send us matzah ball mix! And she is ridiculously tall: 5'10" (we look pretty silly standing next to each other). Is that enough information for you?

We get along really great, or at least I think so. She has never been to India before, and I have been really impressed with how well she's handled the culture shock (much better than I did my first time, for sure). I love that she is super open to learning everything she can about India, even though she came here knowing relatively little (or so she claims). I think we're going to have a fun time living together!

Is your Hindi improving?
My auto Hindi is pretty good. I can bargain completely in Hindi with an autowallah. However, that is about the only Hindi I get to practice and otherwise it hasn't improved much. Yesterday, I started Hindi lessons. I now have two-hour lessons three times a week (twice at 7am before work, which means waking up at 6! but I think it's worth it).

What is your daily routine?
8:00am: Alarm goes off. Hit snooze.
8:05am: Hit snooze.
8:10am: Hit snooze.
8:15am: Drag myself out of bed. Take a shower and get ready for work.
9:10am: Get an auto. My regular autowallah disappeared, but there is still a minimal exchange of words. Katrina, another American who works at TERI and lives in Jangpura, often shares the auto with me. The autowallahs recognize us.
9:25am: Arrive at work. (The workday starts at 9:30am).
9:28-9:45am: Check email.
9:45am-1:00pm: "Work." Often involves a trip to the first floor (I'm on the second floor) to chat with Will, Anand, or Joel (the Canadian) and gchatting with both American friends and coworkers (everyone is on gchat all the time. It's really bad). Plus some actual work in between.
1:00pm-1:40pm: Lunch time. It's really only supposed to be until 1:30pm, but most people take a little longer. I often go to a place in the market behind the India Habitat Center (IHC, where TERI is located) with Katrina. The dal there is incredible. Or I can order a tiffin to be delivered to TERI and eat with a bunch of coworkers in the office.
1:40pm-5:30pm: "Work." See above.
On some days, at some point during the "work" time, I take a tea break with some of my coworkers, usually Will, Anand, and Jay. But I have yet to actually drink tea because I keep forgetting to bring a mug to work. So I just hang out or bring my water bottle and get made fun of for not drinking tea.
5:37pm: Leave building. Go to the street to get an auto. This can take anywhere from 2 to 45 minutes. I'm usually home by 6:30pm.

My nights vary a lot. I spend some parked in front of the TV watching Friends, going out with Sareeta, on Skype, or going to a cultural event (Ramlila during Navratri, for example, or to a show, such as classical Indian music, at the IHC). But I probably spend most nights at home. I like to do absolutely nothing after work.

What do you eat? Do you cook?
Unfortunately, no, I still don't cook. But I really want to learn! I have been eating a lot of bread and peanut butter, crackers and cheese, and cereal. Some nights I order Indian food to be delivered, because almost every restaurant will deliver to your door free of charge. I bought dosa batter and hope to cook masala dosa one day soon.

Is the pollution really that bad?
Yes. Delhi is dirty--pollution and dust to the extreme. I often find it difficult to breathe, and I can feel that my skin is coated in a layer of grime. My face has turned into a strawberry with ginormous blackheads, and I often break out into coughing fits. My mom sent me a carbon-filter mask for pollution, and I wear that in an auto (as I think I mentioned in a previous post, when you are sitting in traffic the open sides provide zero protection against the pollution). I think it helps a little bit, but unclear how useful it really is.

What about the poverty? Is it totally in your face?
Yes and no. The poverty doesn't feel as in-my-face as in other places in India. But there are beggars everywhere. With malnourished, possibly-dying babies or purposely-mutilated children. Coming up to my auto and sticking their hands into the vehicle. The most difficult part of my day is taking the auto home from work and concentrating on the back of the autowallah’s head so as not to turn around to acknowledge the beggar—because it’s too painful to look at their emaciated bodies, unwashed hair, dirty clothes, and worst of all, sick babies. It really pains me to know I’m forcing myself to become immune to them and their suffering, like I did my first time in India. It makes me feel so inhuman. But I don’t think I could go on living my life in India without going insane if I dwelled on it. Do I ever give them money? No, because what you saw in Slumdog Millionaire is often true: many beggars give their money to gangs, and that would only perpetuate the problem. If you want to help, give your money to an appropriate NGO instead. One time I did give a woman with a malnourished baby a bottle of water, and another time I gave a granola bar. I think giving food is ok, but I do not give money. But more often than not I try my hardest to ignore them (or at least act as if I’m ignoring them so they go away). Honestly, though, I don't think the poverty is as bad in South Delhi as in other parts of Delhi (South Delhi is mostly a very nice area), or as bad in Delhi as in other parts of India.

Any traveling?
I went to Orchha and Gwalior for Gandhi's birthday weekend (see previous posts). I'm heading to Bangalore this weekend to celebrate Diwali with Angela and hang out with Pema, a friend from Bhutan. Next weekend I'm taking PiA is paying for me to take their first gap-year student (between high school and college) to Agra (can you say free trip to the Taj?). The following weekend I have Monday off for Guru Nanak's birthday, so I'm trying to go somewhere in the Himalayas for the three-day weekend. After that, I have no concrete plans. At some point I will visit Prashanth in the village he's working in (he works for an NGO in a village near Indore, Madhya Pradesh) and meet up with Angela again, this time in her original hometown of Hyderabad. In December or January I might go to Chennai for the annual music/dance festival and to meet up with some Pondy Uni friends. So, even though I have zero vacation time for the first six months, I am managing to fill up some weekends with travel.

Can I visit?
YES!! Please do! (Ok, I made up this FAQ. No one has asked me that. But you really should!)

I hope I have answered all the questions. Keep 'em coming!

Apartment: Check. Foreigner Registration: Check. I am legally a resident of India!

And I have a Residential Permit to prove it!


The apartment hunt was pretty stressful and complicated, but it ended with a nice 2-bedroom apartment and a possible roommate who is coming to Delhi in October (well, hopefully. She’s having employment visa issues… sound familiar?).


I started looking on Yuni-Net and DelhiNet, two mostly expat forums, but I got few good responses. I managed to visit two studios in Defence Colony, but they were pretty small and felt like dorm rooms (basically only a bed and desk). I tried Craigslist and emailed some people who had posted they were looking for roommates, but they never responded. Then I checked out some Classifieds websites, 99acres.com, magicbricks.com, and indiaproperty.com, as well as the Classified sections of the Hindustan Times and Times of India. I visited some of these apartments, but they were awful. Indian squat toilets, no showerhead, a glass wall between the apartment and a family’s home so that the family could see and hear everything, no windows, etc. Really, it wasn’t that I was being overly picky; these are legitimate complaints.


Ultimately, I had to do what everyone, both expat and Indian, warned me against: I called a broker. I started with TERI’s broker, but he was terrible. He wasn’t even listening to me. He showed me places that were double my budget, in locations I didn’t want, etc. So I searched on IndiaMike.com to find a recommended broker, and here I am in my new apartment! The broker was pretty annoying and I had to pay a broker fee, but at least I found a place to live (after seeing over 20 apartments). Phew!


My apartment is on the third floor (Indian counting; fourth floor American counting). Basically, you keep walking up stairs until there are no more stairs. I live in Jangpura, which is north of Lajpat Nagar (great shopping) and east of Defence Colony (great restaurants). It is a nice quiet neighborhood with a bunch of parks. I thought I was within walking distance of a movie theater (so my amazing 250-page Delhi map book tells me), but when I walked over there I found it is closed for renovations. But I’m pretty sure there is a theater in Lajpat, so I will easily get my fill of Bollywood.


If you want to send me mail, my address is:


G-9, Third Floor
Jangpura Extension
New Delhi 110014
India


Come visit me!!


I live on the same street as “Dr. P.P. Singh (Urologist).” I’m not even kidding, there is actually a sign that says that. One day soon I will walk around my neighborhood with a camera and take a picture of that sign.


After I got my apartment and signed a lease, I had all my documents in order to go to the FRRO (Foreigners Regional Registration Office). The FRRO is supposed to be a really awful experience and a lot of foreigners have to go back multiple times, but it went pretty smoothly for me. Basically you wait in line for hours, a guy checks out your documents and gives you a number, and when your number is called you go up to a counter with a guy who registers you.


Before I continue the story, it is important to share with you that I had not had a drink of water since lunchtime the day before. I had moved into my apartment the night before and did not yet have any cups, even though I did have a water filter. And I had sweat profusely while lugging my bags up four flights of stairs. I would also like to note that taking autorickshaws really dries out my throat and gives me cottonmouth (all that polluted, dusty air). So I was feeling pretty damn thirsty and dehydrated.


After standing on my feet for two and a half hours in a sweaty, not-air-conditioned hallway, the number-giver told me my lease was not notarized and therefore not a valid proof of address for registration. At first he refused to give me a number, but I yelled at him with my gross cottonmouth voice until he gave me a number, and I ran as fast as I could out of there to find a notary. I saw an autorickshaw and yelled “Mujhe notarization chahiye! Mujhe mere lease par stamp chahiye!” (I need notarization! I need a stamp on my lease!) at him. To my surprise, he knew exactly what I meant and where to go. Well, he was waiting outside the FRRO, so maybe this is a common problem he knows about.


When we arrived at the complex with the notary, I dashed out of the rickshaw and up a few flights of stairs to the notary. I didn’t have the original lease with me since I only needed to submit a copy, and at first the notary guy wouldn’t stamp it. After some convincing, he gave me the stamps. Then I ran to a copy place so the registration guy would never know the notarization was not on the original. (But I will get the original notarized soon.)


At this point I started getting light-headed and realized I was probably about to pass out, probably because I hadn’t had any water in 24 hours and in those 24 hours I had perspired a lot more than usual (moving luggage down and up several flights of stairs, all the running in Indian heat in Western work clothes, etc). I asked the copy boy, “pani kahan hai?” (Where is water?) because I couldn’t think straight enough to say “where can I buy water?” (which would be “main kahan pani kharid sakti hoon?”) Instead of telling me where to go, he said “you don’t look so good” and ran out to get me water. He came back with what I’m pretty sure was not clean water, but I felt so awful I just grabbed it and drank the whole thing.


Feeling reenergized from the sketchy water, I ran back to the auto and back to the FRRO. When I entered the room, my number was on the board. I went up to the counter and asked how long my number had been up there, and luckily it had just popped up. Just in the nick of time! And I got my resident’s permit without any more issues.


…yes, that is considered going smoothly.


Lesson learned: I now have cups and I bring a bottle of water (I keep all the bottles I buy and fill them up with filtered water) to work every day.


Wow, that was a long post. That’s what happens when you don’t update in a while. Oh, and I swear, a post about work really is coming soon.

नमस्ते भारत! (Hello India!)

I'm finally in India! I arrived last night, and I'm staying with Sareeta, the other PiA fellow, in CR Park. I've been here less than 24 hours, and already my nose is tingling from the polluted air (my snot is probably black) and I can feel the dust seeping into my pores.

The plane ride was long but I got to sleep and watch Wolverine and a few episodes of The Office. Boarding was hilarious. The Continental agent called boarding and all of a sudden all the Indians started pushing to get in line. People were sort of violent and paying no attention to the fact that we were boarding by rows. There was a group of American high-school-age kids (maybe there is a high school study abroad program?) and they all looked terrified. The Continental agent even threatened not to allow boarding at all if people didn't stop shoving and wait their turn. I felt like I was in India already!

I remembered that the first time I landed in India, I was immediately slapped in the face by the heat/humidity and the smell. I couldn't remember which came first, so I paid special attention this time. Well, the smell definitely hit me first! And the heat followed almost instantly. Welcome to India!

Aaahh, the smell of India. So hard to describe, and so unpleasant. Fortunately--or unfortunately?--I will get used to it. I would say the smell is some combination of exhaust/air pollution, fecal matter, paan (betel nut), spices, a lot of dust, and animals.

Speaking of animals, I am very relieved to say that I have not seen any menacing monkeys yet.

...yet.