Another "sari" attempt at humor...
After all this talk of culture, you're probably wondering if I actually do any work. In fact, the work days here have been pretty long. I think our plan is to work 7 days a week and then take two trips, one to Kirala, one to Goa. Much of my time so far has been spent perusing the phonebook, calling potential suppliers of filter fabrics, heat sealing equipment, and printed labels. Phone calls have never been so tiring. It often takes up to 5 minutes just to find out that the person sells injection molding machines, and has nothing to do with heat sealers. Sometimes I never even get that far, and I’m instead requested to send an email which will most likely never be answered, or will get rejected because the account is full. It seems as though business does not get done over the phone in Mumbai; questions are best asked in person. Most vendors firmly request that I come in to discuss what it is that I want—a proposition implying over an hour of travel in each direction—when just two more minutes of dialog generally reveal that my trip would have been in vain. Two particular conversations typify my telephonic experience…
The first stand-out call was with a secretary at a potential filter fabric supplier I found in the phone book. My initial request for filter fabric was met with a slew of questions about my particular specifications. I was informed that the owner was out of the office, but I would be contacted with more information and price quotations. Not fifteen minutes later I was called back and told that they actually don’t sell filter fabric and couldn’t be of any assistance.
The second call occurred Monday when I was trying to confirm that a sample had been sent as promised. The representative of the filter fabric company assured me that the sample had been sent earlier that day. Ten minutes later he called to ask for my address. Conducting work in Mumbai has been slow-going, but is slightly less frustrating now…
My busiest day thus far was Tuesday, which began with me leaving my house at 7:30 for Bandra, where I would pick up a water sample from Behrampada, replace Mr. Abdul's clogged filter cartridge, and stay for 20 minutes to talk and drink some Chai. I think that every cup of tea I've had in India has been better than any tea I'd had before coming here...it's loaded with milk, sugar, and occasionally tea masala (spice). After chatting with the Abduls, I picked up my custom tailored pants and shirt from one of the many local tailors and returned to the train to go north to Andheri for a meeting with a contract testing-laboratory to perform a particle size distribution analysis on the slum water sample.
I shared a rickshaw from the train station with a man heading in the same direction, and we discussed the politics of Bombay, why the slums don't get improved, and how the slums dwellers (comprising the majority of the population which actually bothers to vote) are the ones how essentially have the power to make politicians take action. I can't speak for the full truth behind this statement, but it was an interesting conversation none-the-less. With little luck, I pleaded with the employees on Ashco Analytical Services to reduce the cost of the tests considering our noble cause, as the Rs.1000/sample would be too expensive for us to perform all of the tests that we would like to over the course of the summer. This test requires no skill to perform, about 5 minutes worth of actual work, no consumables besides water (free), and an additional 10 minutes of waiting for the machine to finish. Considering that the lab is rarely busy (as explained by an employee), a technician could perform our tests in their spare time at no cost to the company, and with significant benefit to our project. Yet, they remain firm in their price. I somehow managed to land myself working with the imbecil of the office, forced to answer questions like "I don't think the water should be too bad, Bombay has the best water in India," and also, "your country is very rich...why don't you get money from there to pay for the tests? $1 to you is like Rs.1 to us." I enjoyed belittling this guy as much as possible without him noticing. I responded that Rs.1 to him is like Rs.100 to a slum dweller. I offered to give him $1 if he gave Rs.100 to someone in a slum. He was not so eager to make the transaction. I also kindly reminded him that it's his country's problem that we are wroking to help solve, and despite all of our fundraising efforts, paying him Rs.1000 for doing Rs.20 worth of work was not a good option for us. How frustrating...
After Andheri, I made my way down to the Crawford Market area for a meeting with Mr. Nasir Bhai, who works for Gulshan Engineering, a potential supplier of heat sealers. On the train there I had my first run-in with an infamous sari-clad gent (Mumbai's version of a cross-dresser), who proceeded to touch my head (and everyone else’s) as a blessing and then request money. Indian transvestities are not quite as attractive as the Key West variety...My journey to Nasir's shop took me along Muhammed Ali Blvd., a very Muslim part of town. Nasir, alnog with the rest of the shops employees (all family of his) were clad in traditional Muslim garb, complete with huge beards and "topees", the white hat often worn by Muslims. Nasir had insisted that I come to his shop to decide if his equipment would suit my purpose. As it turns out, he makes heat pressed for foil labels and other purposes, and is not in the heat sealing business. Despite this, we had a good hour-long meeting, talking about cultural differences between the US and India, my religion (or lack-thereof), and the main pillars of Islam. He was a really nice man, with some great analogies and a great outlook on life. While I am not ready to convert to Islam, my beard is already about 5% there, and in need of some sort of attention...
I spent the next hour following his suggestion for a heat sealer supplier, searching throughout Crawford Market, and found a potential seller. Having been out and about, carrying a 3 foot tall, bulky filter around with me since morning and having had nothing to eat besides a cookie, I made my way back home and called it a day.
Saturday was also an enlightening day. This was the date of our first health workshop of the summer. We had been meeting with Hassina and Nalgis, two women from the community who had agreed to invite others to this workshop. We arrived at 2 to prepare for our 3:30 workshop which was designed and rehearsed to inform ~20 women on the importance of and need for changes in hygiene. However, our attendees ranged from 3-14 years old, and numbered over 100!! The two hours that followed were unforgettable...With over 100 unruly children unable to sit still, to stop hitting one another, yelling, pushing, unwilling to leave the educational props alone, and set ablaze at the opportunity to push their way into a picture, overwhelmed doesn't quite explain the frustration and humor which ensued. I can say for sure that these kids are amply prepared to force their way onto the trains and power their way through the streets, whether behind the wheel or on foot. There is no way to convey just how over the top the whole thing was...I did take some videos which may help shed some light on the experience.
So that's a glimpse at my work life. Even though I work everyday, it is easy to justify and not feel overworked or like I'm missing out too much since I am still able to soak up the culture during all of my commuting and various interactions.
I forget what ailments I had listed in my previous posts, but I'm mostly healthy now. Heat rashes are under control, stomach is fine, knee hasn’t been hurting as much. I had two bad days though, the first night in which I had a fever, nausea, and slight shortness of breath. A “good” night’s sleep was enough to reduce my discomfort to a stomach ache and nausea, cured by a few minutes of worship to the porcelain god. I didn’t eat for about a day and a half due to lack of appetite, and still find that my appetite has remained at a normal level, not as insatiable as it once was. If you visit a developing country without developing some crazy illness, you must be doing something wrong. At least that what my mom always used to say. But still I’d say I’ve faired pretty well…Anu has come down with some nasty contagious rash, diarrhea, swollen ankles from exotic-bug bites, sunburn, swollen lips, and tons of bug bites.
The first stand-out call was with a secretary at a potential filter fabric supplier I found in the phone book. My initial request for filter fabric was met with a slew of questions about my particular specifications. I was informed that the owner was out of the office, but I would be contacted with more information and price quotations. Not fifteen minutes later I was called back and told that they actually don’t sell filter fabric and couldn’t be of any assistance.
The second call occurred Monday when I was trying to confirm that a sample had been sent as promised. The representative of the filter fabric company assured me that the sample had been sent earlier that day. Ten minutes later he called to ask for my address. Conducting work in Mumbai has been slow-going, but is slightly less frustrating now…
My busiest day thus far was Tuesday, which began with me leaving my house at 7:30 for Bandra, where I would pick up a water sample from Behrampada, replace Mr. Abdul's clogged filter cartridge, and stay for 20 minutes to talk and drink some Chai. I think that every cup of tea I've had in India has been better than any tea I'd had before coming here...it's loaded with milk, sugar, and occasionally tea masala (spice). After chatting with the Abduls, I picked up my custom tailored pants and shirt from one of the many local tailors and returned to the train to go north to Andheri for a meeting with a contract testing-laboratory to perform a particle size distribution analysis on the slum water sample.
I shared a rickshaw from the train station with a man heading in the same direction, and we discussed the politics of Bombay, why the slums don't get improved, and how the slums dwellers (comprising the majority of the population which actually bothers to vote) are the ones how essentially have the power to make politicians take action. I can't speak for the full truth behind this statement, but it was an interesting conversation none-the-less. With little luck, I pleaded with the employees on Ashco Analytical Services to reduce the cost of the tests considering our noble cause, as the Rs.1000/sample would be too expensive for us to perform all of the tests that we would like to over the course of the summer. This test requires no skill to perform, about 5 minutes worth of actual work, no consumables besides water (free), and an additional 10 minutes of waiting for the machine to finish. Considering that the lab is rarely busy (as explained by an employee), a technician could perform our tests in their spare time at no cost to the company, and with significant benefit to our project. Yet, they remain firm in their price. I somehow managed to land myself working with the imbecil of the office, forced to answer questions like "I don't think the water should be too bad, Bombay has the best water in India," and also, "your country is very rich...why don't you get money from there to pay for the tests? $1 to you is like Rs.1 to us." I enjoyed belittling this guy as much as possible without him noticing. I responded that Rs.1 to him is like Rs.100 to a slum dweller. I offered to give him $1 if he gave Rs.100 to someone in a slum. He was not so eager to make the transaction. I also kindly reminded him that it's his country's problem that we are wroking to help solve, and despite all of our fundraising efforts, paying him Rs.1000 for doing Rs.20 worth of work was not a good option for us. How frustrating...
After Andheri, I made my way down to the Crawford Market area for a meeting with Mr. Nasir Bhai, who works for Gulshan Engineering, a potential supplier of heat sealers. On the train there I had my first run-in with an infamous sari-clad gent (Mumbai's version of a cross-dresser), who proceeded to touch my head (and everyone else’s) as a blessing and then request money. Indian transvestities are not quite as attractive as the Key West variety...My journey to Nasir's shop took me along Muhammed Ali Blvd., a very Muslim part of town. Nasir, alnog with the rest of the shops employees (all family of his) were clad in traditional Muslim garb, complete with huge beards and "topees", the white hat often worn by Muslims. Nasir had insisted that I come to his shop to decide if his equipment would suit my purpose. As it turns out, he makes heat pressed for foil labels and other purposes, and is not in the heat sealing business. Despite this, we had a good hour-long meeting, talking about cultural differences between the US and India, my religion (or lack-thereof), and the main pillars of Islam. He was a really nice man, with some great analogies and a great outlook on life. While I am not ready to convert to Islam, my beard is already about 5% there, and in need of some sort of attention...
I spent the next hour following his suggestion for a heat sealer supplier, searching throughout Crawford Market, and found a potential seller. Having been out and about, carrying a 3 foot tall, bulky filter around with me since morning and having had nothing to eat besides a cookie, I made my way back home and called it a day.
Saturday was also an enlightening day. This was the date of our first health workshop of the summer. We had been meeting with Hassina and Nalgis, two women from the community who had agreed to invite others to this workshop. We arrived at 2 to prepare for our 3:30 workshop which was designed and rehearsed to inform ~20 women on the importance of and need for changes in hygiene. However, our attendees ranged from 3-14 years old, and numbered over 100!! The two hours that followed were unforgettable...With over 100 unruly children unable to sit still, to stop hitting one another, yelling, pushing, unwilling to leave the educational props alone, and set ablaze at the opportunity to push their way into a picture, overwhelmed doesn't quite explain the frustration and humor which ensued. I can say for sure that these kids are amply prepared to force their way onto the trains and power their way through the streets, whether behind the wheel or on foot. There is no way to convey just how over the top the whole thing was...I did take some videos which may help shed some light on the experience.
So that's a glimpse at my work life. Even though I work everyday, it is easy to justify and not feel overworked or like I'm missing out too much since I am still able to soak up the culture during all of my commuting and various interactions.
I forget what ailments I had listed in my previous posts, but I'm mostly healthy now. Heat rashes are under control, stomach is fine, knee hasn’t been hurting as much. I had two bad days though, the first night in which I had a fever, nausea, and slight shortness of breath. A “good” night’s sleep was enough to reduce my discomfort to a stomach ache and nausea, cured by a few minutes of worship to the porcelain god. I didn’t eat for about a day and a half due to lack of appetite, and still find that my appetite has remained at a normal level, not as insatiable as it once was. If you visit a developing country without developing some crazy illness, you must be doing something wrong. At least that what my mom always used to say. But still I’d say I’ve faired pretty well…Anu has come down with some nasty contagious rash, diarrhea, swollen ankles from exotic-bug bites, sunburn, swollen lips, and tons of bug bites.
posted by Adam at 1:05 AM
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