I'm so sick, infected with, Where I live...

Not much to write this week. I’ve been sick, which you do not want to read about. Work has been a challenge, which you don’t want to read about. There was an earthquake in Nepal, which was devastating to all those involved. The fact that I felt the tremor here in Delhi and an aftershock today seems insignificant. So, I will wish you all a good week.

Namaste

PS - when I posted this, I found out this is our 100th post. So, there's that.

Where in the world, tell me, where in the world….

So, I’ll start today’s blontry with a picture quiz. I’ve been on a business trip most of this past week. Based on these pictures, can you guess where I’ve been? You want some clues, I’ve got your clues right here, but I am DUBAIous you will need one.

Yes, you are correct sir. I have been in Dubai again this week. I was there for an education fair and to meet with education consultants; I had oh about an hour and a half I wasn’t working. Things were bubbling back in Delhi so I worked on things there morning and night and the rest of the time we were at an education fair meeting with potential students and their families or talking with education consultants. Or actually to be more accurate we were standing in our booth. Traffic was very poor until the last day of the fair.

Anyhoo, as I noted, I did have an hour and a half I wasn’t otherwise occupied so I decided to see one of the sites of Dubai I didn’t see the last time I was there: a shopping center. Mall of the Emirates to be exact. This mall is amazing. It is roughly the size of Rhode Island and it was decorated by the same guy who decorated the Versailles Palace. Ah-mazing. It is now not even the largest mall in Dubai. The new mall is as large as Vermont. But I digress.

In the time I had at the Mall of the Emirates, I didn’t begin to make a dent in one floor. I saw every upscale store brand I think I have ever seen in the US, Europe, or Asia, plus several that I have never seen. The mall is so large it has two mosques. And a ski resort. You may have heard about this, before I am here to bear witness.  I have seen and it is true. From the time you walk in, you feel like you are at Dear Valley or some other upscale ski resort. There is even a lodge for après skiing. As you can see they even have human sized hamster balls. Here are some pictures.

As I end this week, I will change my usual ending from Namaste to Namascray – The crazy in me recognizes and salutes the crazy in you. That seems about right.

Namascray  

Oh, I got nothing (nothing, nothing), I got nothing (nothing, nothing)

Thanks to The Script for the lyrical title for this week. If you are a regular reader of this blog, you know that we typically write about the events of the preceding week. There are times that we have more to write about than we have time or space. So we keep a list of topics we can write about if there is a slow week.

It’s been six days since Rae left for the US. I have been quite busy at work. That has consumed my work week. Yesterday and today we in India watched the rebroadcast of our Church’s General Conference, so that pretty much consumed my weekend. I could talk about Conference, there were several great addresses and testimonies borne of Christ. However, I don’t think that is really the point of this blog.

So, I’ll go to the list… and I’ve got nothing.

Sheesh, if I can’t even write a blontry for one week, the next three months while Rae is in the US are going to be rough.

Hmm, let me dig a little deeper.

This week marks officially two years I have been at MAII-Stratford University, New Delhi. Time is an interesting thing. In some ways the time has gone by incredibly quickly; it doesn’t seem as if it could be two years. Yet, in other ways it seems as if we have been here forever. Somethings have become routine and I am not gobsmacked by much anymore. Still, I can’t say I am totally integrated. I am still a stranger in a strange land. We haven’t had a lot of visitors but those who have come have been astounded (as have we) by the colors, the history, and the vibrancy of India. All of that is true. Still living in a place is different from visiting there. As nice as our home is; as good of friends as we have made; as much as I am engaged professionally; as amazing as the sites are; living here can be challenging.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I still think it was right we came here and I am glad we did so.

We are doing some interesting things at work. One of those is looking for new location for the campus. We are well located in the heart of one of the most central, busiest areas. Technically we are considered to be in South Delhi, but the way the city has grown we are quite centrally located. We are on a main boulevard with a metro station less than a quarter mile away. The problem is we lack space. If we are going to grow and add the new programs we are considering we need more space. So we are looking.

Looking at the different buildings under construction or being remodelled is quite interesting. I have written in the past about the difference in construction methods here and in the States. Some of those differences are just hard to fathom. The most obvious difference is the legion of workers, men and women scurrying around the construction site with loads on their heads. Rarely do you see people with hard hats or any of the safety equipment you would expect. There are few skilled workers, just legions of unskilled workers scuttling around the site.

There doesn’t always seem to be sense in the timing of the construction process either. It seems that too often one step taken just undoes what has already been done.

It’s not new construction but the repair work that has been going on at Church is an example. They painted the interior and exterior of the building. When that was done, they started on repairing the AC units. In that process, they removed parts of the roof and left the areas uncovered. Well, it rained, which caused flooding in the upper story, which ruined the paint job in the upper level and bled into the ground floor ruining those walls as well. To make it worse the rain water got under the roofing material ruining the underlayment. So now the whole roof has had to be replaced and the interior needs to be treated for mold and repainted. At this rate, I think we are providing lifetime employment for the crew working on our building.

The same pattern is true at a new building that will house two other congregations and the mission offices and home. They have sided and resided the building; they have laid torn up, and re-laid the stone work on the terrace. They have installed, burned out the elevator by using it too repeatedly to haul loads of material that exceeded the weight limit. They then used the elevator shaft has a dump so that if they ever get the elevator repaired, they won’t be able to use it because they can’t lower it the ground floor. Oh yes, the hammering and pounding to remove the siding caused broken window and door frames so they had to be replaced.

My parents used to joke that the philosophy of the highway department in Utah was to do a job that was just good enough that when a stretch of highway was completed, it was necessary to start over and repair it. That same philosophy is apparent here. It is ironic. You can tell from magnificent buildings such as Taj Mahal that Indian craftsmen have been historically among the world’s best. Unfortunately that same pride in craftsmanship is rarely seen now. Barely good enough is good enough. The government is trying to bring a level of professionalism to crafts, trades, and other vocational jobs. I hope they are successful.

I will say this, many people are very resourceful. With limited training, tools, or other resources they find a way to make things to work. If these same people were given adequate training, tools, and supplies the past historic levels of professionalism might be restored among its workers.

Wow, I ended having more to say than I thought. I hope it didn’t seem too much like ranting.

Namaste.  

We are diplomats, With our proper hats; Our attire comes habitual, Along with all the ritual!

Lyrics for this week’s blontry comes from a classic source: The Real Ambassadors by the Dave Brubeck Quartet. It fits because once again Rae and I participated in the annual Ambassadors’ Meet, which is sponsored by the Delhi Chamber of Commerce.

As you can undoubtedly tell by the name the Ambassadors’ Meet, is a meet (Indian English for meeting, gathering) for Ambassadors. To add a little color, it is held annually. Hence the name Annual Ambassadors’ Meet. The idea is that members of the Chamber have a chance to interact with Ambassadors from all the embassies and to build on or establish relationships that may lead to business. In truth, I haven’t observed much fruitful interaction. For the most part members of the various embassies seem to stay clustered in groups with only marginal interaction between them.

Well, you say, maybe the idea is to get a key official from the Indian government to speak; to provide a forum for the presentation of international initiatives.  Well, sort of and not so much, as it turns out. There is always a Chief Guest who speaks. Usually this is someone high in the Ministry of External Affairs, and s/he does talk about Indian initiatives to expand trade. However, in a classic case of form over function, the assembled throng never quits talking, or even turns so they can see the speaker. Rather they continue their own conversations without so much as a glance at the podium.

So, if the event is not really about doing business nor yet for listening to policy statements, what is the purpose? I can answer in five words: open bar and free food. With an emphasis on open bar. If I am going to be honest, I think most of the Ambassadors don’t even bother to come. So for the embassy staffs it is a chance to socialize with plenty of free food and drink and only a passing glance at any business. I can’t speak to the open bar but the food has always been pretty good.

The other thing that has been a constant, although the specifics have been a bit different each year is a demonstration of traditional songs and dance from various parts of India. This has always been the best part of the evening, and it is entertaining enough that people actually stop or at least slow down their conversations and watch. This year the music and dance came from the North-eastern states of Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, and Tripura. If you are familiar with a map of India, these states, also called the Seven Sister States, are the relatively little cluster of states separated from the rest of India by a narrow strip of land between Bangladesh and Nepal. In many ways these states are quite different from the rest of India (as if the “rest of India” is a monolithic whole) and more similar to the people of Myanmar and Nepal than to the rest of India. In fact, except for a part of Assam, these seven states were brought into India quite late, some as recently as 1987.

A band played traditional tribal music from the Seven Sister States. The band accompanied dance groups. The dances are not too different from the dances you would see from indigenous groups from any number of cultures. One act was a repeat from last year. Someone was brought up from the audience. He was made to kneel on the stage. A carrot in his mouth, a zucchini on his hand some orange fruit or vegetable on his head. A performer was blindfolded and given two swords. While blindfolded he danced around the stage waiving the swords. Eventually he made his way over to the kneeling stooge, err participant from the audience. Then with three swift strokes he cut the carrot in half, leaving the stub in the man’s mouth and sliced the zucchini and other vegetable in half without (at lease apparently) hurting the participant.

After that number, they had the participant lie on the ground spread eagle with what looked like a squash on his stomach. The performer, still blindfolded, again danced around the participant, stomping around the man’s extremities, his man parts, and his head and chopping the ground all around him with a short handled hoe. At the crescendo of the dance he brought the hoe down, severing the squash without hurting the participant. MAYBE he could see through or around his mask, but I wouldn’t bet on it. And I definitely wouldn’t have volunteered my head, hands, and other vital body parts to find out.

Anyway, here are some pictures that we took during the evening.

With no further introduction, here’s Rae.

On a completely different note, I’m going to share this weeks’ experience with getting our, becoming ever more necessary, air conditioners serviced for the season.  We’ve been here for two years and I’m not sure this annual event has actually happened previously.  I will begin this tale by saying that I’ve never been impressed with the managers who “manage” things around here.  What they mostly seem to excel at is passing the buck and doing as little as possible.  They didn’t fail in their management skills in this project either. 

We have 8 separate AC units, if you count the 2 in the basement.  Servicing each unit is a bit time consuming.  It’s not like servicing the one central AC unit that most of us have.  Turns out that the day before, our servicing, the manager was here most of the day supervising the servicing of the AC units for the landlord’s two kids above us.  So, time to see if they can pass the buck to someone else.  That someone else would be none other than Christina, who works for us. 

I wasn’t too pleased when she told me that the manager had called her to tell her our units were being serviced and gave her the instructions about what she needed to do, and make sure the workers did.  Excuse me, I don’t remember them paying Christina for her time.  We pay her to help in the house (usually 5 hours a day, five days a week), not stand outside ALL DAY watching the workers to make sure they do everything the manager wants done.  GGGRRR!  When workers are in the house she usually watches/keeps an eye on them.  Sadly this is necessary to insure that they don’t leave with something that doesn’t belong to them.  I appreciate her supervising while they work inside, plus she is able to communicate anything that needs to be communicated.

Turns out the manager wanted her to supervise to make sure the workers didn’t just blow all the debris and dust out of the units, but rinse them, then wash the blades with soap and water.  I think that’s fine if that’s what he wants done but I wasn’t pleased he thought this should be Christina’s job.  We only pay her to work a certain amount of hours, and I always feel bad if she’s here over her time. 

I tell her that it isn’t her job to stand outside and supervise them, and if the manager wants that done then he should come and do it.  He didn’t come, and she still spent a good deal of her time helping and supervising them. 

I’ve mentioned in the past how shocking it is to have people come to do a job and bring no tools.  This was pretty much the same scenario.  They showed up, late, got a VERY wobbly,  ladder from the back of our building and began working.  Christina stood outside to watch.  I watched through the living room window as they began on the first of two units just outside the window.  It was pretty scary watching the one worker stand on the wobbly ladder and sway about 8-10“from side to side as he worked.  No law suits here; mostly they’re lucky to get paid.

After a few minutes Christina came inside to ask if we had an extension cord, NO.  Somehow they figured out how to make their blower reach.  Next she came in for soap. After she asked them if they were going to wash the blades with soap and water, they said, “Oh yes… do you have soap?” YES.  Don't know what they would have done if we’d been out of soap.   

I had a lunch engagement and then went straight to teach my two piano students.  They were still working outside when I left.  A bit before 6pm Christina sent me a text saying the workers were done and she was going home.  She’d come by 11 to meet them.  I’ve never been great at math but even I know that is more than 5 hours.  Thanks Christina for staying and sorry the manager thinks you work for him.  One last GGGRRRR!

Failed to get a picture of the poor swaying worker.

Namaste.