One week into my project and things are just not going very easily. I
thought I had started to pick up some momentum at the end of last week,
as I met with a specialist in the field I am looking into who seemed
overwhelmingly excited to help me out. I met with him in the morning and
by afternoon, he had called his driver to deliver me to the
organization's training program... which as I arrived had just finished
the training relevant to my project. And then, though I did not realize
it at the time, the momentum abruptly stopped. Meetings were set up each
afternoon for the following morning, only to find that the office I met
in was empty, or the specialist was suddenly out of town. Schedule,
cancel, schedule, cancel, and all of a sudden I have lost a full week
with what felt like nothing to show for it. So, on Tuesday, my advisor
(a different specialist in the field) held up my appointment for a
meeting, and felt so badly about the building inertia in my
investigation, he started spouting names and phone numbers, and called a
cab and someone from the organization to take me to a damaged school
across the valley for the afternoon. And so, slowly slowly, I started to
get moving.
Today was just too bizarre not to share the intimate details of, so make the jump if you are ready for the opus of April Eighteenth.
Today, I woke up and had my usual sized breakfast around here - which is to say, a huge one. No matter what the main dish is (poori, three pieces of toast, pancakes), breakfast is always accompanied by a sunny-side up egg. The yolk is always disturbingly raw. Today, it was accompanied by a relatively small portion of chow mein. While at first the fact that egg did not taste like butter, the way Mumma's did in Jaipur, was a key redeeming fact, its prevalence at every single breakfast is starting to break me.
I can catch a ride into town with my host here, so this morning around 10:30, we all piled into her Hyundai to cruise towards the train booking office where we get dropped off, right by the stairs near our advisor's office. The other two girls are back in town, from the village, so today we all rode together. They still need to book their logistics back into Jaipur at the end of the research period, so while they went from window to window, I sat down to follow up on a call with one of the people and phone numbers my advisor had given me the day before. And thus, after some trying, an appointment was set! Three o'clock, in a 'burb that costs 15 rupees to catch a taxi to. An early step to success! I stopped by my advisor's office because the phone number he had given me for another organization near the one who had agreed to meet me wasn't working. He couldn't help me, but reaffirmed the 15 rupee cost, and, instead of giving me an address, said to look for the 'Sikkim Computers' sign. "They will know where it is from there!" It was 11:30.
The ride to my apartment from the same type of taxi costs 30 rupees, and usually takes 10 to 15 minutes. Considering that this drive was half the price, I can only assume that it is half the physical distance to drive. So, it should follow that it would take 5-7.5 minutes to reach my destination. I allotted 2 and a half hours to find the office.
I got in the taxi, and made the immediate mistake of not immediately telling the driver exactly where I wanted to go - only the neighborhood. I had interpreted my advisor's directions as "Take the taxi to the stop, then get out and go to the sign. People will know it." Unfortunately, I am becoming more and more convinced that there is no such thing as stops here, and that taxis will drive infinitely on any road. After all of the other passengers got out of the taxi, my inkling was growing, so I showed the scribbled address to the driver, who sort-of sighed, said something in Nepali, then seeing my blank (and white) face, said a grudging "10 minutes... I turn."
The other direction on the 2 lane road was backed up, in one of the jams that seems par for the course around here, with car engines turned off as far as I could see looking either up or down the hill. Then two other taxi drivers got out of their cars and came to talk to my driver while everyone just waited for something up a head to move. I couldn't really understand, but when one friend said the word "earthquake" and pointed at the building across the road, I had to try to say something. In too-rusty Hindi, I blurted "I am a student! I earthquakes studying am!" The drivers did not get it. But, encouraged by my Hindi, my taxi driver tried to reaffirm to me that the address (aka sign) was only a ten minute walk away. Okay, I'm game, I thought, and started up the hill.
Unfortunately, there are no street signs in India, so my direction had to be confirmed each time the road turned. The initial directions had been along the lines of "Go up hill, then straight, straight, and a little to the left." When you don't know where to turn, and there is no sign to look for, you have to ask for directions a lot.
Things went okay, as I huffed and I puffed up the hill in my rain jacket in the sunshine, as I started 10 minutes away, then got 5 minutes away. However, when I crossed the "You are two minutes away" threshold, I suddenly became very lost. All of a sudden, no one had heard of the Sikkim Computers sign, and I was a complete crazy person for thinking it might even exist, let alone nearby. I went up hill, I went down hill, I crossed the street, I crossed back. It literally got to the point that I stopped in every second storefront to ask for directions. Finally, I came across a bus stand, so frustrated that I gave up on Sikkim Computers, and asked if they knew the organization. Yes! They did, and one of them was going there right now! I was 2 hours into my search. And pretty sweaty.
One man walked me up into a driveway, through a gate, into what looked like an apartment building. We walked around the right side of the building, and saw nothing, so went back to the front. My new friend told me to wait there, and walked back down and out of the driveway, out of sight. Too close to turn back, I started poking around the left side of the building where I miraculously spotted a sign about the size of an envelope with the acronym of the organization and an arrow. By god, I had found it. Even though I was early for the meeting that I had been warned over the phone could only last 15 minutes, my interviewee welcomed me in and talked with me for 45 minutes, in the first exceedingly positive experience yet. He was thoughtful, opinionated, and spoke perfect English. It was awesome.
He even gave me directions for the other NGO in the neighborhood, whose phone number hadn't been working but was nearby. "Just go up those stairs, you'll reach the street, go to the right, up a little bit more, and you'll see it. They have their own building." Inspired by my afternoon success, I repeated the street name and set off. I was confident that this time I understood what I was looking for. I climbed the stairs, I went right a little bit, then up another flight of stairs, and reached a road. I asked if it was the right road. No - it wasn't, but I just had to go down the street and I'd find it. "Back down the stairs?" I asked everyone. No - they'd say - just follow the street.
Unfortunately, it was the afternoon, which almost daily has meant that it was about time to start raining. And, today, it wasn't just any rain... it was chubby rain. I was chatting with my friend Colleen, who had come for the weekend but had since returned to her digs in Darjeeling, about the struggles of completing our projects, and took cover in an overhang next to a stone staircase by a school. It rained. It rained. It rained. We talked and talked, until our phone dropped the call. So I took the opportunity to ask the man next to me if he thought the rain would let up any time soon, and by the way, should I continue going straight to get to the road that I am looking for. He asked what I was looking for, so I told him the name of the organization, and asked if it was close by or if I should just keep on to the taxi stand to get out of the rain. "You want to go to where? Oh! That street is down that way, but that group is back up the street! I will take you right now!" Then this man, holding a Holy Bible, led the way back up the street that I had just walked down, ignoring the continuing downpour. But, we stopped for him to change at his home, which turned into me meeting his sister, brother-in-law, other sister, and nephew. Turns out the house was covered in pictures of Jesus, so I mentioned that I too am a Christian. Delighted, they made me chai, and then, just before setting off, my new friend prayed for me. Out loud.
"Dear God, Father, thank you for this world.. Please help our new friend in her studies, and her journey, and keep her safe.. and Dear Father-God-Jesus, guide her with your light" and so on. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was just similar enough to be strung back together in a way that seems very familiar, but the tone and emphasis on everything was completely foreign. It was very touching, but also completely bizarre.
And then he dropped me off in the executive office of the organization I had been looking for, which was easier said than done because it was on the third floor of the building, and during our walk, the power had gone out, so he led the way up two flights of stairs in the dark. Even after all of that, the man who would be able to talk with me was out of the office until Friday, so I got another phone number and instructions on when to call and then a staff person led me to the right staircase that would lead to the taxi stand.
And finally, in an easy move for the day, I caught a taxi back to town.
 |
| Part of the view from near the school, across the valley from Gangtok. |
Today was just too bizarre not to share the intimate details of, so make the jump if you are ready for the opus of April Eighteenth.
Today, I woke up and had my usual sized breakfast around here - which is to say, a huge one. No matter what the main dish is (poori, three pieces of toast, pancakes), breakfast is always accompanied by a sunny-side up egg. The yolk is always disturbingly raw. Today, it was accompanied by a relatively small portion of chow mein. While at first the fact that egg did not taste like butter, the way Mumma's did in Jaipur, was a key redeeming fact, its prevalence at every single breakfast is starting to break me.
 |
| Cole slaw in this household is known as 'salad'. |
I can catch a ride into town with my host here, so this morning around 10:30, we all piled into her Hyundai to cruise towards the train booking office where we get dropped off, right by the stairs near our advisor's office. The other two girls are back in town, from the village, so today we all rode together. They still need to book their logistics back into Jaipur at the end of the research period, so while they went from window to window, I sat down to follow up on a call with one of the people and phone numbers my advisor had given me the day before. And thus, after some trying, an appointment was set! Three o'clock, in a 'burb that costs 15 rupees to catch a taxi to. An early step to success! I stopped by my advisor's office because the phone number he had given me for another organization near the one who had agreed to meet me wasn't working. He couldn't help me, but reaffirmed the 15 rupee cost, and, instead of giving me an address, said to look for the 'Sikkim Computers' sign. "They will know where it is from there!" It was 11:30.
The ride to my apartment from the same type of taxi costs 30 rupees, and usually takes 10 to 15 minutes. Considering that this drive was half the price, I can only assume that it is half the physical distance to drive. So, it should follow that it would take 5-7.5 minutes to reach my destination. I allotted 2 and a half hours to find the office.
I got in the taxi, and made the immediate mistake of not immediately telling the driver exactly where I wanted to go - only the neighborhood. I had interpreted my advisor's directions as "Take the taxi to the stop, then get out and go to the sign. People will know it." Unfortunately, I am becoming more and more convinced that there is no such thing as stops here, and that taxis will drive infinitely on any road. After all of the other passengers got out of the taxi, my inkling was growing, so I showed the scribbled address to the driver, who sort-of sighed, said something in Nepali, then seeing my blank (and white) face, said a grudging "10 minutes... I turn."
The other direction on the 2 lane road was backed up, in one of the jams that seems par for the course around here, with car engines turned off as far as I could see looking either up or down the hill. Then two other taxi drivers got out of their cars and came to talk to my driver while everyone just waited for something up a head to move. I couldn't really understand, but when one friend said the word "earthquake" and pointed at the building across the road, I had to try to say something. In too-rusty Hindi, I blurted "I am a student! I earthquakes studying am!" The drivers did not get it. But, encouraged by my Hindi, my taxi driver tried to reaffirm to me that the address (aka sign) was only a ten minute walk away. Okay, I'm game, I thought, and started up the hill.
Unfortunately, there are no street signs in India, so my direction had to be confirmed each time the road turned. The initial directions had been along the lines of "Go up hill, then straight, straight, and a little to the left." When you don't know where to turn, and there is no sign to look for, you have to ask for directions a lot.
Things went okay, as I huffed and I puffed up the hill in my rain jacket in the sunshine, as I started 10 minutes away, then got 5 minutes away. However, when I crossed the "You are two minutes away" threshold, I suddenly became very lost. All of a sudden, no one had heard of the Sikkim Computers sign, and I was a complete crazy person for thinking it might even exist, let alone nearby. I went up hill, I went down hill, I crossed the street, I crossed back. It literally got to the point that I stopped in every second storefront to ask for directions. Finally, I came across a bus stand, so frustrated that I gave up on Sikkim Computers, and asked if they knew the organization. Yes! They did, and one of them was going there right now! I was 2 hours into my search. And pretty sweaty.
 |
| What I had been looking for all afternoon - can you spot the Sikkim Computers sign? |
 |
| I know, I know, its pretty obvious, but I've taken the liberty of circling it for you in paint to make it obvious. |
 |
| A close up! Seriously - HOW WOULD ANYONE BE ABLE TO SEE THIS? It's behind a bus stand and a bush. And faded. |
One man walked me up into a driveway, through a gate, into what looked like an apartment building. We walked around the right side of the building, and saw nothing, so went back to the front. My new friend told me to wait there, and walked back down and out of the driveway, out of sight. Too close to turn back, I started poking around the left side of the building where I miraculously spotted a sign about the size of an envelope with the acronym of the organization and an arrow. By god, I had found it. Even though I was early for the meeting that I had been warned over the phone could only last 15 minutes, my interviewee welcomed me in and talked with me for 45 minutes, in the first exceedingly positive experience yet. He was thoughtful, opinionated, and spoke perfect English. It was awesome.
He even gave me directions for the other NGO in the neighborhood, whose phone number hadn't been working but was nearby. "Just go up those stairs, you'll reach the street, go to the right, up a little bit more, and you'll see it. They have their own building." Inspired by my afternoon success, I repeated the street name and set off. I was confident that this time I understood what I was looking for. I climbed the stairs, I went right a little bit, then up another flight of stairs, and reached a road. I asked if it was the right road. No - it wasn't, but I just had to go down the street and I'd find it. "Back down the stairs?" I asked everyone. No - they'd say - just follow the street.
Unfortunately, it was the afternoon, which almost daily has meant that it was about time to start raining. And, today, it wasn't just any rain... it was chubby rain. I was chatting with my friend Colleen, who had come for the weekend but had since returned to her digs in Darjeeling, about the struggles of completing our projects, and took cover in an overhang next to a stone staircase by a school. It rained. It rained. It rained. We talked and talked, until our phone dropped the call. So I took the opportunity to ask the man next to me if he thought the rain would let up any time soon, and by the way, should I continue going straight to get to the road that I am looking for. He asked what I was looking for, so I told him the name of the organization, and asked if it was close by or if I should just keep on to the taxi stand to get out of the rain. "You want to go to where? Oh! That street is down that way, but that group is back up the street! I will take you right now!" Then this man, holding a Holy Bible, led the way back up the street that I had just walked down, ignoring the continuing downpour. But, we stopped for him to change at his home, which turned into me meeting his sister, brother-in-law, other sister, and nephew. Turns out the house was covered in pictures of Jesus, so I mentioned that I too am a Christian. Delighted, they made me chai, and then, just before setting off, my new friend prayed for me. Out loud.
"Dear God, Father, thank you for this world.. Please help our new friend in her studies, and her journey, and keep her safe.. and Dear Father-God-Jesus, guide her with your light" and so on. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was just similar enough to be strung back together in a way that seems very familiar, but the tone and emphasis on everything was completely foreign. It was very touching, but also completely bizarre.
 |
| Elsewhere in town -- Christian iconography, the Sikkim way. |
 |
| Oh yeah, that's Mary in the middle of the mountain. |
And then he dropped me off in the executive office of the organization I had been looking for, which was easier said than done because it was on the third floor of the building, and during our walk, the power had gone out, so he led the way up two flights of stairs in the dark. Even after all of that, the man who would be able to talk with me was out of the office until Friday, so I got another phone number and instructions on when to call and then a staff person led me to the right staircase that would lead to the taxi stand.
And finally, in an easy move for the day, I caught a taxi back to town.
No comments:
Post a Comment