Dichotomy

Last weekend, Javed Akhtar showed his support for Satyamev Jayate, on the episode against alcoholism. He also came out with his story of how he became an alcoholic.

This week, McDowell's released an advertisement with his son, Farhan Akhtar endorsing the brand (of course, this was the soda extension).

Hmm. Interesting.

Deja Vu

When I was in Malawi, late last year, one of the most frequently discussed topics was about the political crisis ravaging Malawi. They were ruled by an authoritarian, divisive and slightly crazy President who  insisted that all was well with his world. In the meanwhile, he succeeded in alienating many of the large donor countries (read: UK, USA) that resulted in a for-ex shortage, a severe fuel crisis and a breakdown of production throughout the small country.

Most of the discussion centred around how protests had failed to shake the President and his government out of a stupor and that the population would patiently wait for the 2014 elections to voice their opinion and vote for change. The real question was whether the country would survive to see the 2014 election.

Then in a sudden development, the President died of a heart attack and Malawi ushered in its first woman President. While the jury is still out on her performance, everyone in Malawi breathed a collective sigh of relief when the country didn't collapse into civil war, but continued to have a stable government.

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Reading about India's latest GDP growth figures and the repeated criticism of the Congress-led government for it lackadaisical response to every crisis in the last 2 years, I am struck by a sense of deja vu.

The media is crying itself hoarse about a home-made recession, fewer jobs, more inflation and a confusing cumbersome government. Political parties aren't able to find any alternative leaders for the next general election in 2014 and with a whopping 10 States set for assembly elections in 2012-13, the government is sitting tight on all the difficult, rabble rousing reforms.

And what are we doing to change this? Waiting for 2014. Or a heart attack.

Things to Do in Delhi. Version Mundane.

Talk to shop keepers while mimicking their own accent but confusing them with words like "bhaaji" for "sabzi" and "kaandaa" for "pyaaz".

Buy groceries, fruits and vegetables all by myself for the very first time and lug the bags home, almost breaking my arm.

Realize that I now have to make "grown-up choices and decisions" which are going to hurt like a bad burn.

Angst about that and whatever else comes my way (work, lack of a car, weather) to avoid thinking about the real issue at hand.

Give up on any pretense and cry in the auto, not caring that the auto driver is freaked.

Successfully push the issue under the carpet and plan a house party.

Buy a scarf and wrap it around myself to look like a terrorist every morning, while on my way to work.

Trade scary stories - who got mugged/ conned/ assaulted this week - over lunch.

All in a week's work. Making Delhi my own.

W00t!

Reprise

Girl in the gym, on the treadmill watching Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason

Man on the next treadmill: What are you watching? Girls shouldn't watch such films! 

Girl on the treadmill: Why? It's such a cute movie! 

Man on the treadmill: But look at Bridget's weight! Girls ko yeh sab nahi seekhna chaahiye! 

Girl on the treadmill: Hmm. <should-I-kick-him-or-kiss-him-look>

So many levels of irony! 

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There are some rare people in this world who can take your nice relaxed day and turn it into a nightmare full of violence and rage, with one small action or a 5 minute conversation. Such people need to reconsider why they're alive. 

Auto drivers in Mumbai often fall into this category. Someone else I know also falls into this category. But at least auto drivers are of some use. 

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Thankfully, along with the bad surprises, there were some good surprises this weekend. The kind that I'm not going to forget for a while. After years of running away from all the mushy things, this year was a pleasant change :-) 

Confession

I need a fixer. To fix my job anxiety. I loved the work I did for two years, but I don't want to do it anymore. Yes, my friends are right - it's weird to be unemployed at 25-going-on-26 and weirder still to be content to wait for the right job to come along, but my gut is telling me that it's the right thing to do for now. Once I'm older and have to be more responsible, I may not have the luxury to wait for the most interesting job and do what sounds like fun!


I need a fixer. To fix a broken friendship. I don't want to feel the faint heart burn when I'm talking to someone and I realize that a lot has changed and we're not the same people anymore. I want to feel happy for that person when he tells me about other relationships without feeling resentful that I was not treated with similar respect. I want to wipe the slate clean and start afresh so that I have no memories except that he'z ma frnd and that I care.  

I need a fixer.If you're reading this and do magic, send one my way.

Culture Shock

Singapore was brighter and shinier than I had anticipated. Singapore emanates the efficient and convenient vibe, with the trains running on time, taxis always stopping in the taxi queue and never saying no to customers and with iPhone apps designed by Singapore Tourism to help me get around the city. All in all, Singapore turned out to be the perfect location for a holiday where I wanted no stress and nothing to bombard my senses.

The huge malls, the mega brands and the beautiful clothes were expected. So were the efficient trains, lovely food joints, the amusement parks and idyllic museums with convenient audio guides. The comfort provided by the sheer first-worldness of the city was enough to make me feel better.

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But now I'm home and down with a massive throat infection. Trust me to come out of Africa and fall sick in Singapore! The lack of activity and house arrest is adding to my anxiety about what the future is going to bring. I (vaguely) know what I want to do, but the thought of putting myself out there and finding a job and moving on in life is scary.

Before I Forget - 3

My favourite things! So I can really get on with it and write about other stuff that's eating my brain from the inside out. This post is peppered with food references, but I think that's more me than the country.

5. Peanut Butter. I know I know.This isn't Malawian or even particularly unique. But it's related to my visit, because I survived the first part of my trip on peanut butter and crackers. It was December, I was new to the place and always hungry. Not sure how much weight I put on because of the stupid peanut butter, but I was so enamoured at finding it in a Malawian super market, that I (almost) didn't mind.

4. Flashlight: I landed up in Africa without one of the fancy disco flashlights or the trusted head lamp, but was grateful for my phone light, which was strong and never died out on me. Stopped me from running for the woods on many dark nights without electricity when I couldn't see a thing and imagined some creepy thing crawling up my legs!

3. Chitenze (or some other spelling): 2 metre cloth with traditional African prints and perfect to make a dress, pants or even just use as a beach towel. The beautiful African hand printed cloth brought much fun and colour to our market trips.  

2. Beans. Eat it with Nsima, eat it with rice, it's still going to taste the same. Vegetarian, light on the stomach and wonderfully consistent in taste, it was like healthy comfort food - a concept that didn't exist before beans! It tastes even better when eaten with Nali, which brings me to... ONE!

1. Garlic Nali! Yes, it tastes better than mild or hot nali. It can be mixed with beans, rice, chicken, eggs or absolutely any other food! And yes it tastes good only in Malawi. I tried putting some on my eggs when at home in India, and it just didn't... work. But I guess it happens with food sometimes. It's like how Indian food tastes good only in India. Try having butter chicken or dal-roti in Switzerland, and it will make you want to throw up (sorry butter chicken!)

Why I think my brain is made out of Cheese

I often read articles friends have "shared" on Facebook, just for the heck of it.  These range form superfluous, ridiculous, overly opinionated to downright lies. Maybe it was my state of mind, but I found this article, cheesily titled Why Love Matters More (And Less) Than You Think that hit home.


"Perhaps our celebrations of "love" are so often tinged with a quiet desperation because what we're really pursuing is a caricature of love. And perhaps by endlessly redrawing that caricature, we ourselves are lessened, little by little; as if we feel we don't fully belong in the human world, but can't quite understand why. None of us belong here. But we are here. And there's not enough time. Cut the bullshit. Love."


And I see what he means. A lot of us crib about being single, get angsty on Valentine's Day, scout out new people at social gatherings, have random sex with strangers all in the bid to get what we want. But beneath all this, we seem so afraid to articulate what it is exactly that we want. I have a friend who's been around the block a couple of times and she mentioned to me once that her biggest problem is often that she can't read the subtext of what the guy wants out of a particular encounter. You may want a casual no-strings-attached-sex-only relationship, but then you have no right to be cagey and make promises you have no intention of keeping. You may want to get married today and not wait for the next two years, but if you don't say it out loud, you cannot expect the other person to be ready. 


In all fairness, every time someone asks me what kind of person I would like to like, I make up vague clichéd statements and generally avoid the topic. But honestly, I want someone who will ground my life and also add some crazy to it. Someone who won't give me too much attention but will still let me know that I am special to him; call it as it is when I'm being an ass but respect the work I do; want to argue with me on silly issues without taking it personally and be comfortable with the space that he will occupy in my life without being scared of it. 


Of course, when I think that I've found someone who could potentially fit the bill and he turns out to be a jerk, it feels like someone's burnt me with a hot iron. On my part, I'm rather dramatic and filmi when I get hurt. I queue up sad, wrenching songs on my playlist, get into the shower, turn the water to scalding hot and just cry until I'm numb and I can't feel anything. 


But maybe what I should be thinking is that there's not enough time to cry over what happened any more. He's gone and I can't care because I need to find that person who's going to call it as it is when I'm being an ass.

Dear Diary

Pizza.Wine. Fight. Need. Fear. Loss. Friends. Fun. Laughter. Hollow. Love. Beer. Cake. Hugs. Loneliness.

All in one Valentine's Day.

One more new beginning

The year long forecast for Aries was depressingly filled with adjectives such a difficult, lonely, introspective and stressful. 

I am, however, suppose to emerge stronger-  Like metal strengthened by the fire :P 

So begins one more year, full of hope! 

One Two Ka Four - 4

Getting buggered at work with 2 days to get out of here. I need sleep. Or coffee and chocolate. Lots of it!

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 Living in Malawi is like being inside of a economics text book. The IMF left the country yesterday, rumors of currency devaluation sent prices soaring - stuff like bread, sugar and essential commodities. Petrol went up from 380 Kwacha to 480 Kwacha - not that it made much of a difference, because there was no petrol to buy. I think inflation in the last 2 months can be pegged at 80-100%.
People are placing bets on how bad the Kwacha is going to get. A friend of mine is betting at 2000 Kwacha to a dollar (from the current 165 Kwacha to a dollar) by next March. Whee!

How Peculiar - 5

It's ironic that my last weekend in Malawi was the best yet - with me drinking water the whole night, having dinner and intimate conversation with a very good friend, followed by bizarre but hilarious conversation at Harry's till 2:30 AM with the unlikeliest of people. I learned more about my friends telling stories and laughing with them in that one night than I have in all the days of 'partying'. I'm glad it happened :)

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With three days for take-off, work is threatening to kill me. I know I've gone through worse but the stress of dealing with the government (OMG! How can they not realize I'm leaving! :P ) is getting to me. In my head I know that the government has better things to do than listen to my requests so I can help them to finish their own projects, but I just wish for the next three days we could move closer to an ideal world.

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Going back home means dal-roti, family, tv, friends, fuel, cars, power, internet and so many other guilty pleasures. But it is also going back into the uncertainty that dominated my life before I got here. As I was saying to a friend today, if my life allowed me to know what I was doing for more than 2 months at a time, I'd probably be shocked enough to faint. I'd rather be uncertain at home than uncertain elsewhere. I guess.

Sawa Sawa - 9

I made my first foray out of the expat bubble in Malawi on Sunday when I decided to go to the old town market in Lilongwe. I took the minibus (50 Kwacha - finally something affordable in Malawi!) and walked to the main market - a sprawling covered market with narrow streets, little light and treasures waiting to be discovered.

The real Lilongwe where people live, transact business and sleep was dirty, smelly and full of frantic (legal and illegal) activity. The streets of the market were dark and narrow, with houses rising on both sides and puddles on the ground from the recent rain. With the market selling everything from vegetables, chicken to music CDs, clothes and cosmetics - walking through the streets was like walking through the Crystal Maze. I found my way in easily enough but then spent 30 minutes finding my way out and getting lost. Had it not been for Malawi and people guiding me along with a smile and a friendly question, I'm sure I would have freaked out!

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Back in the bubble, we had the first of many Christmas parties at my hotel - complete with people wearing ugly sweaters (mine had green shiny Christmas trees on it!), Santa and reindeer hats, exchange of gifts under 1000 Kwacha, shortbread cookies and tonnes of chocolate!

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I'm not entirely sure what Sawa Sawa means (there's a debate between "open your heart" and "open your vagina"), but I know that the song has all the makings of a hit - a sexy beat, catchy chorus and lyrics that have attracted much controversy. The song plays in the taxi, on radio, at live shows, in clubs every night.. I can't get it out of my head!
So check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbUBSeNrV3c

Shack Night - 15

I'd never though I'd say this, but people in Malawi party way too much.

The tiny expat community has built a high-school-like culture where everyone is part of a gang (the cool gang, the pseudo gang, the desperate-geek-boys-gang) and there are places that everyone hangs out on any day of the week. So it is Thirsty Thursdays at Buchanans, Harry's on Friday.. so on and so forth.
I happen to have my first night out in town on a Wednesday, which in Malawi translated to: Shack Night!

The Shack is a unique party destination for many reasons. For one, it doesn't show up on the Lonely Planet which means that the crowd consists of expats living in Malawi, some locals and regulars who head over to The Shack every Wednesday. Apart from the nice relaxed "shack-like" atmosphere and a place to run into 80% of the young crowd in Malawi, the pub also hosts the Volleyball league every Wednesday. This highly competitive league involves three tiers, rowdy matches and some very hot European boys playing Volleyball :)
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Staying out till the wee hours of morning, didn't prevent wealthy Malawians from "celebrating" World AIDS Day on December 1st. The same crowd showed up to events recognizing World AIDS Day and made use of the subsidized cash bar. The most interesting part of these events was running into three fourths of the Indian community who, after showing appropriate shock and surprise at my sudden arrival in Malawi, inquired after my health, invited me over for some much needed dal-roti and then (on-the-sly) told me that they would give me a better rate if I wanted to exchange dollars in the black market. :D
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As Friday evening approaches and my friends decide whether to go Carol Singing at the Four Seasons or Harry's for a few drinks, I can't help but think ... people in Malawi party way too much!

Stranded on the Wrong Beach - Malawi Weekend

Having had a stressful and hectic introduction to Malawi last week, I decided to take up the offer of going to see Lake Malawi with my fellow volunteer and her friends this weekend. Though I was skeptical, my friend insisted that the Lake was so big that there were bays and beaches all along it which had become very popular expat tourist spots. What I didn’t know, was that going with a bunch of white people on a beach trip in Africa is a concept that comes with its own complications, high points and contradictions.

The best parts of the weekend…

1. Actually finding a beach along the lake, complete with sands, rocks and waves. The dark blue water and the small islands jutting out were untouched and breathtaking.
2. Peace Corp volunteers! No matter what country I visit, Peace Corp volunteers are a breed of their own. They are interesting people to talk to with very deep insights into the country they stay in and are willing to play drinking games, anytime of the night or day!  
3. Hitch-hiking our way back to Lilongwe with a bunch of Indian-origin-Malawian guys who were oh-so-helpful. I don't think they imagined their Sunday evening drive to be with 5 noisy giggly girls squished in the back-seat of a Toyota 
4. Riding bike taxis and being waved at and whistled at by all the villagers. With a caravan of 5 bike taxis carrying firengis, the circus had come to town, clearly!
5. Meeting the brash, amusing and very cute South African couple. Married for 20 years, with 5 boys and still so in love with each other so as to make fun of each other the whole time!

The not-so-good parts of the weekend…

1. Trying very hard to mingle with a bunch of North American girls and failing. Feeling sensitive and isolated is the worst thing you can do to yourself in your first week in any new country
2. Making ISD calls to try and rid myself of the isolation, and calling the wrong person to help
3. Not knowing how to swim and therefore not being able to paddle boat deep into the lake
4. Not being liberal enough to go skinny dipping in Malawi
5. The inflation in Malawi! My weekly allowance all but vanished in 2 days. And I didn’t even drink enough to throw up in the bushes! 

Malawi: A Rant

I know I'm supposed to give a new country some time before I go ranting about it but this is a special situation.

Malawi doesn't have enough forex to buy petrol. The country also doesn't have enough forex to import plastic caps required for bottled water and carbon dioxide for carbonated drinks (e.g. Coke, beer and such).

This means that as a foreigner you can't protect yourself from local germs because there isn't any bottled water or soda to drink.
This also means that there are no cars on the road (require fuel), no power at most times of the day (requiring fuel) and no water in the toilets (requiring power to be pushed up in the storage tanks).

In the middle of this crisis, the President went off on an unannounced holiday to Hong Kong last week and took with him USD 500,000 for personal use.
The public, frustrated by the shit it is being put through, protested in July this year resulting in the death of 19 people and other violence. 

This country is fucking awesome. 

How the Habesha brain works

A conversation my Habesha (Ethiopian) friend had with our auto driver after he confused me to be a local.
(translated from Amharic)
Me: Man the weather is just perfect after a week in the desert (bla bla blah)
Driver (turns around to stare at me, continues driving): She's firengi??! 
Friend (afraid that he's going to jack up the price): No no, she's half-caste, her father is firengi 
Driver: Ah, that explains it, she doesn't look quite.. Habesha! Where is her father from?
Friend: India. Her mother is from Addis
Driver: Oh very nice! Do they live in Addis?
Friend: No, they live in the US, she's visiting here. She might decide to move here in the future though
Driver: Oh very good. USA is not a good place. People don't remain married forever, they break up. She won't fit in there. She should come back home
Friend:.. ahhh, I think she will finally decide to do that
Driver: Very good. Such a beautiful girl, will definitely find a match in Ethiopia!

At this point we reach our destination. And the driver gets a 2 birr tip :D

Ayzush

Ayzush in amharic means "be strong". Ethiopian culture features this word prominently with people saying ayzush in all kinds of different situations: when one gets hurt, when one is working late, when one isstressed or too quiet.

Genuine and sincere effort is always rewarded, no matter how frustrating it may seem in the middle of the night. Giving up isn't a bad thing, but this is not the time. This is the time to be strong and keep moving.

Ayzush

First impressions

I’ve been traveling around Ethiopia for three days now. My work has taken me only 150 km away from Addis to a hospital in Debre Zeit where I spent three days finding out about treatment of HIV patients. While 1 week may not be enough to observe people, culture and community; here are some fun highlights:

1.       Ethiopians spend an inordinate amount of time greeting each other. Everytime they meet you, even if they ran into you 30 minutes ago, they will do the elaborate handshake + shoulder touch greeting, and ask “selaum, denna nesh?” (Peace, how are you?). Not replying is considered to be offensive and English words like “Fine, thanks” or “How are you” are met with scorn. So just like Indians spend the first ten minutes talking about chai or today’s news, Ethiopians spend 10 minutes greeting every single person in the room!

2.       Ethiopians love comparing people. So wherever I went I was asked why my Amharic wasn’t as good as my other expat friends. That I had been in Ethiopia for exactly 5 days didn’t matter to them!

3.       There are a surprising number of languages, ethnicities and regional identities in this country. This is to the extent that two people from different regions , both talking the same Amharic language, often fail to understand each other.

4.       Ethiopia is the first country where I’ve found coffee that *tasty*. Called the macchiato locally, it isn’t too bitter, it’s not too creamy, it doesn’t smell of preservatives and it has this lovely aroma which (for the first time ever in my experience) translates beautifully into the actual taste of the coffee.  

5.       While some Ethiopians genuinely want to talk to you because you’re a novelty to them and they believe that their community is big on hospitality – some of them only want to learn English or want lots of money out of you. I think being in Ethiopia for a long time makes expats skeptical at worse or very good judges of character at best.

In the last week I’ve met a lot of people from across the world, who have been working in Ethiopia for more than 2 years now and I’ve been curious about their reasons for staying on in Ethiopia. One such Peace Corp volunteer said that his experiences in Ethiopia were often very intense, sometimes disorienting and often crushingly lonely. But what made it worthwhile was that he was finally living the dream he’d had since he was in 5^th grade. I think that’s the key to making a life thousands of miles away from home. It can’t be only the satisfaction of doing impactful work or the love of traveling. It’s a bug that’s in you – that pushes you to seek new ways to live, in completely unknown countries and trying to fit in. Another Peace Corp friend also said that those who stayed out for too long often didn’t fit into their communities when they went back home and found it very difficult to readjust themselves. Perhaps this was also the reason they left – because they wanted to find a place where they’d fit better. Personally I think it’s a idiosyncratic to move to a country of a different race, 7000 miles away to “fit in”. But then, each one dances to his own tune.

Movies I don't get #1

3 people go up a mountain, none come back.

6 people go up to save them, 3 come back.

At base camp, the 3 out of 9 sing song and kiss.

Vertical Limit. Stupid but thrilling.