05.19.07

In Which Alexander Frightens His Readers

Posted in India at 16:56

For some reason, this whole trip I’ve been very aware of what people are wearing.  Quite a large number of (male) travellers in Denver and Chicago wore blazers or suit jackets.  Every time I noticed one, I judged the aesthetic merit of the particular length and width of the lapels.  I decided that jackets with too many buttons and short lapels look somewhat silly, as do those with lapels that are overly wide or narrow.

I really like double-breasted jackets, I think because they are not very common.  Or perhaps because I’m a fan of peaked lapels.  I don’t like when they have only one pair of buttons though.  This leads to an awful dilemma–you are not supposed to button the bottom button of a jacket, but if there is only one button (or row of buttons), leaving the bottom open means leving the jacket open.  The pilots for Air Mexicana wear very sharp-looking black double-breasted jackets.

Another thing that I noticed a lot was men with button-down collars who kept their collars…buttoned down.  I don’t know if this is the Right Way to wear a button-down collar, but I don’t care for the way it looks.

In India, men mostly wear button-down (but not button-down collared) shirts.  Short and long sleeves seem equally common.  Polo shirts can be spotted occasionally.  Most people wear grey or brown (or occasionally khaki) chinos, though a lot of younger men wear jeans.  Footwear is something I have paid less attention to, but I’ve seen both sandals and closed-toe shoes.

Too Much To Tell

Posted in India at 14:31

Well it’s two in the morning.  I keep typing into my alphasmart, but stories are unfolding faster than I can tell them.  My host brother does not think an ordinary USB cable can be found in India, but he is pretty sure that he can get ahold of an infrared reciever, which would also do the trick.  Lots more to come.

Arrived

Posted in India at 11:21

I’m here.

First Impressions

Posted in India, Narratives at 04:32

The heat and the smell hit me first. It was 21:00 and probably about eighty degrees farenheit. There is a smell here. The closest I can come to describing it is a combination of dirt and mould and blood. But it’s not a bad smell, and it’s not really blood but something like it. One of my favourite smells in the world is that of rain, which I would describe as ozone and mould. The smell here is not one of my favourite smells, but it’s not bad. I wonder if the US will have a smell when I go back, after I am used to the smell here. I wonder if this is the smell of Delhi or of all of India…

The airport was rather old and broken down. It seems that it was once very nice, but has not been maintained. I walked up the jetbridge, looked confused, and was directed to Immigration, after which, I was told, I could get my checked bag before going through customs.

There were two lines in Immigration. One for Indian passport holders, and one for foreign passport holders. I got in the foreigner line. The flight crew got into a third line–the diplomat/offical line. As I walked through my line I looked at the people. Everyone in the Indian line looked Indian, except for one girl. She looked more east Asian and was dressed very American. Later I saw her move to the foreigner line. Oops. There were a fair amount of Indians in the foreigner line too. Beyond the lines there was a duty-free shop selling liquor, iPods, and other wares. It was conspicuously lavish inside the aged airport.

I was surprised that my bag was not searched or even opened. My disembarkation card was taken except for a stub, which I would give to customs after getting my bag. My bag was already on the carousel because of the wait at Immigration, so I grabbed it and headed for the green lane at customs. A man took my stub, looked at my passport, counted my bags, and waved me through. I was in India.

I saw the Thomas Cook booth and knew what it was for, but now I just needed to find the airport shuttle. After searching outside for a bit, I gave up. I had been offered rides and taxis multiple times. Probably had something to do with white skin and bewildered expression. But now I had a problem. I needed a prepaid taxi, but had only American money. To get back in the terminal I needed a ticket which cost 60 Rupees. I was able to solicit pity and was allowed back inside without a ticket. I got some rupees, got a taxi ticket and found a taxi. The vehicle, a Maruti Suzuki Omni, was like a mini van in miniature. On the ride back, I learned about driving in Delhi. Turn signals are for asking, horns are for telling. Delhiites favour the latter, yet road rage seems to be a foreign concept. Signs on vehicles read things like Stop in Gothic letters and Power Brake. My favourite is triangular and red, sort of like an upside-down yield sign, with the word STOP and a skull and cross-bones. On large trucks, horn please and blow horn are common. Besides signs, many vehicles have other decorations. Large trucks are often colourfully painted. Many dashboards feature miniature shrines.

Autorickshaws are very common. Lanes are more of a suggestion than a requirement. If you can fit three cars in two lanes, why shouldn’t you? But then, some large vehicles take a whole lane by themselves. They generally are slower too, and so you pass them on the right or left–anywhere there’s enough asphalt. So cars are constantly honking and darting in front of one another, speeding past in the next lane or between lanes or on the side of the road. Cars are small and motorcycles and scooters are abundant. One scooter in particular caught my attention. A man drove and in back a woman wearing salwar kameez rode sidesaddle behind him with a large bag on her lap. Being a former British colony, one drives, of course, on the left side of the road, with the driver’s seat being on the right side of the car. My reaction was somewhat similar to when I first came to LA–people drive like total idiots, but it’s actually because they are more skilled drivers. For all the chaos, I’ve yet to see an accident.

I got to the hotel, checked in, and went to bed.

In the morning, I went to get my complimentary breakfast upstairs. The rooftop restaurant was nice. I tried a couple of Indian dishes (shunning the cornflakes). Curry for breakfast was a new experience. I had (instant) coffee and pineapple juice to drink. I chatted from the next table with an older English woman who was here with her husband.

I checked out, shot a quick “still alive” e-mail to my parents, and bought an inexpensive tour/taxi ride around the city to keep me occupied until my flight.

Here But Not Yet

Posted in India at 02:04

I’m in India, at an airport, waiting for a flight.  I’ve been typing some thoughts/observations/reflections into my Alphasmart, but I left my USB cable in the States, so I cannot upload them yet…  But I’m alive, safe, and en route.

05.18.07

The Trip

Posted in India, Narratives at 22:25

Ashley took me to the airport. It was nice to see her a little more before leaving, especially since I won’t see her for six or seven months.

I had allowed for missing several flights, since flying standby is always a bit rough. But I made the first one. I got to Chicago, and realised, Crap, my bag didn’t get checked through. The little baggage claim check said ORD and not DEL. I had a feeling this would mean being stuck outside airport security for a while, but if I didn’t do something, I would arrive in India without my checked bag. So I left the terminal, grabbed my bag and proceeded to the international check-in/baggage check booth. As I feared, I couldn’t check in until four hours before my flight. I asked if there was anywhere other than Starbucks to eat, and was directed to Terminal 5, where I had some Uno’s pizza (which I found *not* to be Chicago’s best…)

Afterward, I still had a couple hours to kill before I could reenter the secure area, so I called Erik since he lives in Chicago. We chatted for a while, then I decided to explore O’Hare a bit. I was intrigued by a sign I saw for an airport chapel, but was disappointed to discover that it was in the secure area.

After waiting a while and checking in, I entered the secure area. I passed another sign for the chapel and thought of checking it out, but I wanted to find my gate first. My gate was quite far from the chapel, though, and when I got there I was not curious enough to go back.

The flight wasn’t too bad. Somehow about twenty six hours passed during a fourteen hour flight. (Timezones…) Business class was about as comfortable as anyplace where you’re forced to sit for that long can be. Bose noise-canceling headphones are standard issue in first and business classes. I’ve used them before, but it wasn’t before this time that I experienced feedback with them. I guess it makes sense that it’s possible because they do use microphones. If you try to take them off without turning off the noise canceling, sometimes they will squeal. They also sometimes squeal if you cover the outside of the ear cups.

05.15.07

Two Models of Interpersonal Healing

Posted in Reflections at 16:10

Time as Healing

This model views hurts in a relationship as parallel to physical wounds. The correct approach to dealing with such wounds is to cover the wound and allow time to heal it. To dwell on these hurts, or try to fix them, risks infection or aggravation, thus delaying the healing process.

Truth as Healing

This model views hurts as misunderstandings. The correct approach, therefore, in dealing with such wounds is to clear up the misunderstandings. When each person understands what the other meant, the conflict is resolved. To avoid dealing with the misunderstanding, therefore, is to prevent proper healing of a wound, much like allowing a bone to heal without setting it correctly.

The Disconnect

Obviously, these two models conflict in a certain way. Someone using the time model would be completely exasperated by a person using the other model because of their insistence on making a bigger deal than necessary. Talking about who said what and what they really meant can only make the wound worse and prolong the pain of the injury. Even if she understood the other’s perspective, she might say, “Don’t you think our friendship is strong enough that we can both get over this and move on?”

Likewise, the ‘misunderstanding model’ user would be exasperated by the ‘time model’ user’s ignoring the problem. Letting the issue go undiscussed would create room for potential future conflict about the same topic. Even if he understood the other’s perspective, he might say, “Don’t you think we should deal with this while it already hurts so we don’t have to re-break the bone and re-set it later?”

05.12.07

A Neo Toy

Posted in News at 00:24

So I got a new “toy.” It’s an Alphasmart Neo, and I’m using it to type this post.

It’s essentially an electronic typewriter without the paper. Its wordprocessing software saves what you type automatically with each keystroke into the onboard memory. It turns on and off instantly–no “booting” required. It’s lightweight, portable, and battery operated. The screen is small, and can only display six lines at a time. When you are done typing, it plugs into a USB port on your computer. It then becomes a glorified USB keyboard. You open a wordprocessing program, press “send” on the Alphasmart, and it “types” the text from its memory into your computer. A lack of bells and whistles (no games or web browser) ensures greater productivity. Supposedly one can plug the unit into nearly any USB printer and print directly. As mine is in storage, I have yet to try this. I was pleased to find, though, that one can transfer text to a Linux machine. The included software for transferring files to the unit works only on Mac and Windows. Perhaps when I get back home I will be able to find a hack to fix this. Another handy feature is the Alphasmart’s support of the Dvorak keyboard layout. Since I type much faster in Dvorak, this is a huge plus for me.

Enough with the technical crap, though. I bought this new “toy” for a trip I will be taking this summer to India. I will be living with a local family for three months and taking twelve units of self-directed courses. This translates to a lot of typing in a place where access to a computer is dubious. Faced with the option of buying a brand new laptop and taking it where it could get lost, broken, stolen, damaged, etc. or buying an Alphasmart for half the price, I chose the Alphasmart.

While I am in India, I will try to continue to write blog posts on my Neo and upload them as I am able. This way I can keep y’all up to date on my travel experiences.

05.02.07

Grass Stains

Posted in Reflections at 23:09

The other evening I got a grass stain on the knee of my jeans.

The weather’s been warming up again and the apartment was rather stuffy. I walked out into the twilight and was somehow made free by the cool, fresh air. I wish I had spent more time outside this year. Lord knows I’ve spent far too many hours in front of this computer screen.

I walked back inside, and on expressing my sentiments to my roommates, Erik suggested a game of catch. He grabbed the slightly limp football and we faced off in the grassy courtyard. Somehow throwing that football, being outside, falling and staining my pants relieved a bit of the deadness and stress this year has brought.