As anyone who comes in winter from the west finds out, it was beastly cold in Delhi due to the lack of central heating. I was still exhausted with all the packing decisions, the work at the Deccan College, the cold, the housework, and so on. When I finally gave in and saw a doctor in Delhi some two weeks later, he exclaimed that it was so bad he wondered how I had borne the pain for two weeks without any specific treatment!.
Annaiya went to stay with Tripuri for a while until we got our allotment of a house in Delhi, and we both moved in with Sundara and Prabha. Ramu had thought it would be only for a couple of weeks; instead it turned out to be two monthsWe stayed with Ramu's eldest brother, Sundara, a temporary arrangement till we got our allotment in an appropriate government quarters [all laid down in some bureaucratic rule book – the exact type and location was according to one's rank and seniority!]. It was a very pleasant stay in a large spacious bungalow [also an official allotment]. Prabha and I kept each other company till Sundara and Ramu returned from work.
For two weeks or so after we landed in Delhi, I did not feel upto going to see Prodipto or even call him: the cold had left me so enervated that I just lounged in the house except for occasional walks. When I felt a bit better, the children, Vivek and Kalpana then in their teens, would play badminton with us almost regularly.
After the first week or so, Prabha asked me if I was not going to search for a job. I told her that I had expected one was waiting for me but i had to feel better to go and see about it. Finally, i did call Prodipto Roy, and found him with Gerry Hursh, one of the senior staff of the Growth Centre Project at the Council for Social Development [CSD]office. Immediately, in the characteristic sharp fashion that i was to get to know well, he exclaimed, ' where have you been? We were told you would be back in india nearly a month ago, and we have sent letters to you at your Bangalore address!'
Then he went about describing my job or jobs I should say since I was to be both Sociologist in the multi-disciplinary team and Data Coordinator by default of my having used computers with state of the art technology – punching and verifying cards, using a terminal to the main 360 HP computer in the University!
I had decided to plump for a half-time assignment so that I could complete my thesis dissertation. So, in the midst of his discourse, I ventured to say that I wanted a part-time position, but both Gerry and he flatly told me that was impossible. By then, I had become captivated by the project and I meekly accepted a full-time job, mentally vowing i would still find time to do my dissertation.
I was taken in the double role of Sociologist and Data Coordinator. Along with the rest of the group, but for Prodipto who had anyway his room at CSD, I had a room at the Ford Foundation office but to fulfil my second role, I had to be in CSD and so a room in its basement next to the data processing team – about 8 of them to begin with.
But first we had to plan out our strategies as a group and in the data collection part, work out the questionnaires and field methodolgies. This was all very exciting and as a mixed, mostly young team, we used to have heated discussions about everything. I was again the only woman professional in the team but as in HLL that never even impinged on my relations with the others. Some of them became very good friends.
After i had formally joined, Appa redirected a letter from Ford with the formal job offer. It included the full cost of my travel Delhi with transport of all household effects being paid for. But i found out that this was no longer valid as I had accepted the job from Delhi itself! If, as I had first wanted to, I had stayed on in Bangalore for a few days with Appa, we could have availed of all these benefits. Anyway that was that.
The Growth Centre Idea
The Growth Centre Project [GCP] was a joint one with the Govt. of India, almost all states and union territories, the Ford Foundation [FF] and the CSD [Council for Social Development that Prodipto headed] collaboration. It was part of the National IV five year plan.
The exercise was based on the idea of using natural or created nodes of growth and development with multi-purpose functions, in an optimally dispersed space, to enhance accesssibility, attraction to the hinterland population and small and medium town as well as rural economic growth. Or to put it differently , it was a regional planning exercise to optimise the location and types of links of a set of institutions/services including schools, health centres, agricultural markets and transportation links. It grew out of work done by the UN centre for regional planning in Nagoya, Japan.
Let me elaborate in a broad. even crude way. If a farmer has to sell his produce in a market centre that lies a little way off from his village, it would be good if he could also check up on any health problems he or his family might have in the same place. But this is rarely possible, as these two services may not be found anywhere near each other. Location of various services are decided upon other grounds such as political favour, lack of coordination amongst various departments, a sense of fairness leading to dispersion of facilities. Similarly, schools are located on norms that are distance-based, but the transportation might not exist between a middle or high school and the villages it is supposed to serve. In some cases, there are unfordable streams or difficult hills and so the distance actually is much more. Ditto for health centres.
If the locational optimisation takes place, such centres would become the hub of local regional development and thus be 'growth centres'. This was the genesis of our project.
The project was funded by the Ford Foundation and technically run by CSD. A huge multi-disciplinary staff at Delhi and teams attached for the most part to academic or quasi-academic institutions in most states and union territories, were being assembled to run this project. Finally, we had 20 field projects in various Community Development blocks spread over the country and a number of capable and interesting personnae in charge of some of them.
The GCP team was large and multidisciplinary in its thinking and its personnel – urban and regional planners, sociologists [Prodipto, another and myself], economists, geographer, computer specialist, etc. I had a dual role as I was also the data coordinator., supervising a team of about 12-`4 people, Correspondingly, I had two offices, one in FF where the rest of the professionals were located, except Prodipto who remained in his own CSD office, and another in CSD where the punchers and verifiers worked.
Those were still the days of the main frame computers that were typically housed in a/c rooms. One had to punch cards in a punching machine that converted data into a binary code and after verifying to see that no mistakes had occurred, the cards were fed into this computer with a program telling it what to do with the data. It was not uncommon for the machine to reject cards due to some imperceptible bending or folding in them. Then one had to do that card over again. The only computer we could access was in Delhi university [some 17 km from CSD] and someone had to physically take the bundle of cards to feed them into the computer, wait for its processing [snail pace by today's standards] and bring back the results. This tedious process would have to repeated till there was nothing wrong with the cards. Most often our computer man, Venkatraman, would go, and occasionally, I would accompany him to process my thesis data [Prodipto had kindly agreed to let me use the facilities in CSD and our time at the computer for processing these considerably minute amounts of data].
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Delhi Chalo!
We were to land in Chennai and from there, we planned to spend a few days in Bangalore and then on to Pune, where we would await news of Ramu's posting. However, on landing in Chennai, we found his posting order waiting – he had to report asap in Delhi, where he would be Chief Auditor - Commercial [Northern Region].
I still wanted to spend the few days in Bangalore with Appa, but Ramu was worried that I should not further delay the finalisation of my report on the Cooperatives, which had stagnated at the data analysis stage itself for these two years. Now that we knew we would be in Delhi, he was also anxious that we should go there together and soon so that I could avail myself of the possibility of joining Prodipto Roy in a new project that he had told one of my thesis committee, Prof. F. about in response to the latter's query whether he knew of any post that I might be considered for if I were to land in Delhi. If I delayed, the post that they had discussed as being just my cup of tea might be snatched by someone else.
So I reluctantly shortened my visit to the two days that Ramu too spent in Bangalore and we went to Pune together.
Gopala had taken a flat off the centre of town. No sooner had we landed than Sivaram, who had replaced Gabbar Singh as the household Jeeves, fell sick with chicken pox! So Seetha , my sister-in-law [who had come on a short visit], and I had to do all the household work from cooking thrice a day to sweeping and swabbing. Interesting that neither did I ask Ramu to help out, nor did he offer to help, though in the USA he had pitched in to do his share of housework chores and cooking, Now he behaved like the other men, reading, chatting and so on! I believe this was a common experience with many couples who returned after a few years from the west those days, but perhaps the new generation has a different story to tell.
Unfortunately all the travel had taken its toll on me and I had a terrible cold and congestion. I treated this with some Tylenol that I had carried on our return trip. Not that it helped much! But I had no time to fret about this, as we had to semd our household effects to Delhi by train. As the Poona establishment was being closed down, due to Gopala deciding to try his own USA job, there was that too to be finalised.
Soon after reaching Poona, I contacted Iravati Karve, ready to finish the analysis and report on the Cooperatives Study, only to find that the data, processed to a little extent only, was with one of the staff who was just then on an office trip, She would be back only after some weeks; and I could not wait for her return.
I promised Iravati Karve to come down on my first vacation and finish the data analysis while in town, and the report soon thereafter from Delhi.
I still wanted to spend the few days in Bangalore with Appa, but Ramu was worried that I should not further delay the finalisation of my report on the Cooperatives, which had stagnated at the data analysis stage itself for these two years. Now that we knew we would be in Delhi, he was also anxious that we should go there together and soon so that I could avail myself of the possibility of joining Prodipto Roy in a new project that he had told one of my thesis committee, Prof. F. about in response to the latter's query whether he knew of any post that I might be considered for if I were to land in Delhi. If I delayed, the post that they had discussed as being just my cup of tea might be snatched by someone else.
So I reluctantly shortened my visit to the two days that Ramu too spent in Bangalore and we went to Pune together.
Gopala had taken a flat off the centre of town. No sooner had we landed than Sivaram, who had replaced Gabbar Singh as the household Jeeves, fell sick with chicken pox! So Seetha , my sister-in-law [who had come on a short visit], and I had to do all the household work from cooking thrice a day to sweeping and swabbing. Interesting that neither did I ask Ramu to help out, nor did he offer to help, though in the USA he had pitched in to do his share of housework chores and cooking, Now he behaved like the other men, reading, chatting and so on! I believe this was a common experience with many couples who returned after a few years from the west those days, but perhaps the new generation has a different story to tell.
Unfortunately all the travel had taken its toll on me and I had a terrible cold and congestion. I treated this with some Tylenol that I had carried on our return trip. Not that it helped much! But I had no time to fret about this, as we had to semd our household effects to Delhi by train. As the Poona establishment was being closed down, due to Gopala deciding to try his own USA job, there was that too to be finalised.
Soon after reaching Poona, I contacted Iravati Karve, ready to finish the analysis and report on the Cooperatives Study, only to find that the data, processed to a little extent only, was with one of the staff who was just then on an office trip, She would be back only after some weeks; and I could not wait for her return.
I promised Iravati Karve to come down on my first vacation and finish the data analysis while in town, and the report soon thereafter from Delhi.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Good bye to Urbana
We left Urbana at the beginning of 71, in the month of February. SRL's goodbye present was a fondue pot – they had heard my ecstasy whenever fondues were on the menu at any dinner! Gita bought our staunch bug [she had to recondition the engine some time later, but still sold it for a good price when she, in turn, left Urbana]. Other small items were easy to dispose of in a student community and we did decide to take back our 110 volt small kitchen appliances and bakeware – they served me well over the next decade.
It was still winter, and the threat of snow and hail hung over our heads when we set off from Chicago in the car we were driving to Los Angles under the 'Drive a Car' scheme. How we found out about this scheme is now hazy but apparently it was quite an established practice. A person wants a car sent to a far-off place within the country and does not want to drive it himself/herself and so an agency arranges for it to be driven by someone else, who thus gets free transport across the country. Perhaps variations on the scheme exist, but the one we had handed over the car with a tank full of gas [petrol], and we had to put in whatever was further needed for the trip. We were authrised to get any repairs under 50 $ done and claim reimbursement later, but if more than that, we had to get the permission of the agency who footed the bill, if they felt it was valid. A calculation was made as to how long one could be expected to go on a full driving day and nearly half that time again was added for either unforeseen delays or small detours. So we had ten days in which to do a seven-day trip [assuming one drove at least ten hours daily].
The scheme did not operate from Urbana but from Chicago. So, to arrange the trip, we had to run up to Chicago and prove we had valid driving licences without any accident record on them, be tested for eyesight and agree on the date and destination. We planned to fly out from San Francisco, but there were no vehicle deliveries to that area around that time, only to Los Angles. This was fine with us as we wanted to see a bit of the west coast also before we left the country.
The route we decided upon was via Salt Lake City in Utah State, the Utah and Zion National parks in the same state, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. We took turns at driving and the one who was the passenger at the time often lay flat on the back seat to rest, if not sleep. I had bought some heavy wool, mammoth needles [sizes 25 and 50!] and used my free time to knit away. I actually finshed a heavy sweater for Ramu and was half way to completing my sweater tunic. What i would have done with these if we had ended up in Rajamundhry or some such overheated place with Ramu being posted there, I don't know!
The first several days went off smoothly and we were able to enjoy the sightseeing, and get a decent night 's rest most days. We did have one scare the second day, as we drove along the near-deserted highway before entering Utah. A car came up the wrong way from a side turn-off and Ramu had to swerve wildly to avoid it. Our car skidded madly on the snow and ice-covered road, and as it stopped, it was facing the wrong way! Luckily, it was late at night and there was absolutely no traffic. Shaken to the core, R righted the car and we went, a trifle slower than normal on such an empty road, even in those conditions.
The great Mormon temple in Salt Lake City is a great building and there were many other architectural beauties in the town. As for the national parks, their breathtaking and unique scenery confronted us at every turn. We were driving to our rest stop in between the Grand Canyon and las Vegas when we realised something was wrong with the car. It would not pick up speed at all. We stopped in a small Arizona town and found one mechanic open. He said he would have to change something and it would cost nearly a hundred bucks. So we put a collect call to the agency, and he explained to them what had happened. We could guess from his replies that they were checking if the problem was our fault, but when reassured, they told him to go ahead and bill them.
We had made up our minds that at Las Vegas, we would together gamble upto 20 $ [!!] - even that was a lot for us! So after dinner, we sailed out to the gambling casinos and tried all the easy machines. We did at some point gain something, but soon we lost all the 20+ we now had, and quite satisfied with our experience, we stopped at that. I must add that somehow I did not care for this garish town. Moreover, the casinos were noisy and smoky, and after the novelty wore off, we had had enough for a lifetime.
The rest of the trip was uneventful and we went from place to place by air, once we dropped the car off. We did see the Redwood trees in yet another national park near LA, and the famous sights in LA – Hollywood, Disneyland, the museums, etc. San Diego was quaint in its difference from LA, and we loved the Sea Life Aquarium. The Bay Area, our last stop on the mainland, was full of interesting sights – the Lawrence Centre for Science in Berkeley, the various museums of SFO, including Ripley's Believe or Not, its Golden Gate Park, its trams, the Crookedest Street on Earth, and Fisherman's Wharf. It was at the Wharf that we first tasted Mexican fare, and fell in love with it. If only this cuisine had spread to the rest of the States even then – our eating out those two and a half years would have been so enjoyable!
Our whirlwind sightseeing next took us to Honolulu, where we did the usual touristy things, and Japan. Our first day out in Tokyo, we set out walking down a crowded street, looking for a restaurant that might serve something vegetarian. Interestingly, the practice was for restaurants to display models of the various dishes they offered, and this way, we could narrow down our choices.
Later, having lost our way back to the hotel, we found the language barrier daunting. Then we spotted a gentleman dressed in very Western style, and asked him the direction. He just bowed, and we politely bowed in return as we had read in the small guide book that we should. He promptly bowed again, and so did we. After the fourth or fifth round, I was straining to stifle my giggles, and I exclaimed,'we will die doing this for ever!' So we decided we should stop bowing, and immediately he did so too! After all this, he was not in the least bit able to understand, let alone, direct us. We gave up asking anyone, and somehow got back to our hotel.
Another very interesting experience was our stay at a Rokoyan or Japanese style lodge in Osaka. The typical mat-covered floors, shoes replaced at the entrance by soft slippers the hosts had provided, rooms separated by paper partitions, and low furniture gave the place a picture book feeling. Not so the live little fish that wiggled as the centre-piece on the tray holding the Japanese style breakfast that we foolhardily ordered. I screamed and almost jumped high enough to touch the ceiling. The next day we retreated to the safe European style breakfast!
Osaka is very modern and its lovely covered market is fantastic – entirely for pedestrians, and even in the still cold spring, the sunlight filtered through the glass paneled roof and kept us warmer than on the streets. We enjoyed the bullet trains from and to Tokyo and Osaka, and could not stop admiring the orderly queues and dignity of the huge crowds on the platform.
The only bit of old Japan that we saw was Kyoto, a short trip from Osaka. Once a capital of the country, it had a lovely Japanese style garden and temple. We unfortunately did not see much of natural beauty other than just before leaving Japan, we had a chance to see the lovely cherry blossoms around the palace in Tokyo.
I think we stopped over at both Hongkong and Singapore on the last leg of our trip, but memories of those places are faint, probably because we have been to them later too, and often. Of course sometimes it has been only to spend time at the airport fort a connection, but of that later.
It was still winter, and the threat of snow and hail hung over our heads when we set off from Chicago in the car we were driving to Los Angles under the 'Drive a Car' scheme. How we found out about this scheme is now hazy but apparently it was quite an established practice. A person wants a car sent to a far-off place within the country and does not want to drive it himself/herself and so an agency arranges for it to be driven by someone else, who thus gets free transport across the country. Perhaps variations on the scheme exist, but the one we had handed over the car with a tank full of gas [petrol], and we had to put in whatever was further needed for the trip. We were authrised to get any repairs under 50 $ done and claim reimbursement later, but if more than that, we had to get the permission of the agency who footed the bill, if they felt it was valid. A calculation was made as to how long one could be expected to go on a full driving day and nearly half that time again was added for either unforeseen delays or small detours. So we had ten days in which to do a seven-day trip [assuming one drove at least ten hours daily].
The scheme did not operate from Urbana but from Chicago. So, to arrange the trip, we had to run up to Chicago and prove we had valid driving licences without any accident record on them, be tested for eyesight and agree on the date and destination. We planned to fly out from San Francisco, but there were no vehicle deliveries to that area around that time, only to Los Angles. This was fine with us as we wanted to see a bit of the west coast also before we left the country.
The route we decided upon was via Salt Lake City in Utah State, the Utah and Zion National parks in the same state, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas and Los Angeles. We took turns at driving and the one who was the passenger at the time often lay flat on the back seat to rest, if not sleep. I had bought some heavy wool, mammoth needles [sizes 25 and 50!] and used my free time to knit away. I actually finshed a heavy sweater for Ramu and was half way to completing my sweater tunic. What i would have done with these if we had ended up in Rajamundhry or some such overheated place with Ramu being posted there, I don't know!
The first several days went off smoothly and we were able to enjoy the sightseeing, and get a decent night 's rest most days. We did have one scare the second day, as we drove along the near-deserted highway before entering Utah. A car came up the wrong way from a side turn-off and Ramu had to swerve wildly to avoid it. Our car skidded madly on the snow and ice-covered road, and as it stopped, it was facing the wrong way! Luckily, it was late at night and there was absolutely no traffic. Shaken to the core, R righted the car and we went, a trifle slower than normal on such an empty road, even in those conditions.
The great Mormon temple in Salt Lake City is a great building and there were many other architectural beauties in the town. As for the national parks, their breathtaking and unique scenery confronted us at every turn. We were driving to our rest stop in between the Grand Canyon and las Vegas when we realised something was wrong with the car. It would not pick up speed at all. We stopped in a small Arizona town and found one mechanic open. He said he would have to change something and it would cost nearly a hundred bucks. So we put a collect call to the agency, and he explained to them what had happened. We could guess from his replies that they were checking if the problem was our fault, but when reassured, they told him to go ahead and bill them.
We had made up our minds that at Las Vegas, we would together gamble upto 20 $ [!!] - even that was a lot for us! So after dinner, we sailed out to the gambling casinos and tried all the easy machines. We did at some point gain something, but soon we lost all the 20+ we now had, and quite satisfied with our experience, we stopped at that. I must add that somehow I did not care for this garish town. Moreover, the casinos were noisy and smoky, and after the novelty wore off, we had had enough for a lifetime.
The rest of the trip was uneventful and we went from place to place by air, once we dropped the car off. We did see the Redwood trees in yet another national park near LA, and the famous sights in LA – Hollywood, Disneyland, the museums, etc. San Diego was quaint in its difference from LA, and we loved the Sea Life Aquarium. The Bay Area, our last stop on the mainland, was full of interesting sights – the Lawrence Centre for Science in Berkeley, the various museums of SFO, including Ripley's Believe or Not, its Golden Gate Park, its trams, the Crookedest Street on Earth, and Fisherman's Wharf. It was at the Wharf that we first tasted Mexican fare, and fell in love with it. If only this cuisine had spread to the rest of the States even then – our eating out those two and a half years would have been so enjoyable!
Our whirlwind sightseeing next took us to Honolulu, where we did the usual touristy things, and Japan. Our first day out in Tokyo, we set out walking down a crowded street, looking for a restaurant that might serve something vegetarian. Interestingly, the practice was for restaurants to display models of the various dishes they offered, and this way, we could narrow down our choices.
Later, having lost our way back to the hotel, we found the language barrier daunting. Then we spotted a gentleman dressed in very Western style, and asked him the direction. He just bowed, and we politely bowed in return as we had read in the small guide book that we should. He promptly bowed again, and so did we. After the fourth or fifth round, I was straining to stifle my giggles, and I exclaimed,'we will die doing this for ever!' So we decided we should stop bowing, and immediately he did so too! After all this, he was not in the least bit able to understand, let alone, direct us. We gave up asking anyone, and somehow got back to our hotel.
Another very interesting experience was our stay at a Rokoyan or Japanese style lodge in Osaka. The typical mat-covered floors, shoes replaced at the entrance by soft slippers the hosts had provided, rooms separated by paper partitions, and low furniture gave the place a picture book feeling. Not so the live little fish that wiggled as the centre-piece on the tray holding the Japanese style breakfast that we foolhardily ordered. I screamed and almost jumped high enough to touch the ceiling. The next day we retreated to the safe European style breakfast!
Osaka is very modern and its lovely covered market is fantastic – entirely for pedestrians, and even in the still cold spring, the sunlight filtered through the glass paneled roof and kept us warmer than on the streets. We enjoyed the bullet trains from and to Tokyo and Osaka, and could not stop admiring the orderly queues and dignity of the huge crowds on the platform.
The only bit of old Japan that we saw was Kyoto, a short trip from Osaka. Once a capital of the country, it had a lovely Japanese style garden and temple. We unfortunately did not see much of natural beauty other than just before leaving Japan, we had a chance to see the lovely cherry blossoms around the palace in Tokyo.
I think we stopped over at both Hongkong and Singapore on the last leg of our trip, but memories of those places are faint, probably because we have been to them later too, and often. Of course sometimes it has been only to spend time at the airport fort a connection, but of that later.
A Siddem amd Rude Shock
Back in urbana, i got to the report on our preliminary investigations and agreements with the three researchers in the countries concerned. Seymour and Dr. F vetted it and sent it off to USAID and the funders of our trip. Then i sat back to await news of the grant approval though not too anxiously, as it was USAID itself that had wanted the project and SRL was not in the habit of having its projects rejected. It had passed through Seymour's and RF's keen scrutiny, and that was good enough, i thought. So one day, when Dr. F came around with a rather sympathetic look and broke the news to Seymour and me that the project had not been approved, we were stunned. The reasons had nothing to do with the intrinsic merits of our proposal, but two events that changed the whole scenario. Nixon axed USAID's budget suddenly, and so some projects on the anvil had to go. On top of that, the head of whatever section it was that had wanted this project was replaced, and the new person was not at all interested in the subject, and he happily gave it up!
Landing me in the soup! I had invested so much of my hopes, energies and time in the proposal with the full expectation that it would be my thesis topic that I felt totally deflated. I just could not countenance the idea of working on a new topic from scratch. This was not only my own brainchild to begin with, and one that fortuitously coincided with a donor's interests, but our preliminary trip and contacts and agreements had gone far beyond the usual first steps for any thesis.
I bluntly told Seymour that no way was I was going to do any more primary research or hypothesising. I would delve into SRL data and fit what i could find to suit my tailor-made hypothesis. He was not too happy or even sanguine i would be able to do it. But somehow twisting and turning the data, I did produce a relationship. I found it quite difficult to convince my committee to accept this poor substitute, but more due to verbal jousting than logic, I now feel, i did manage to pass through that very respectable array of professors. It was a cop-out and I did not care!
I hated my new topic – it was so puerile, I am even now ashamed of it! i did use some trends in consumer choices of household durable purchases in lieu of my sociologically and developmentally worthy probe that was planned on adoption of new foods. i am sure this dislike had a lot to do with my dragging out the entire process. I was finally able to defend my thesis only eight years later! But there were other factors too.
Ramu's thesis topic was also accepted by his committee but at this point he decided we had to return to India the next semester, i.e. by the beginning of 71. This was partly due to his leave period expiring about that time, and partly due to a feeling that we could write up our dissertations on our own and submit for approval. Our respective guides tried to dissuade us, warning that students who planned to complete their dissertations in absentia generally never did so, due to the competing pressures in the outer world. I was a bit swayed by this argument and suggested that Ramu could explain to the govt. and get an extension. But he was keen and so we assured them blithely, we had more will power and would soon finish our work to their satisfaction.
Landing me in the soup! I had invested so much of my hopes, energies and time in the proposal with the full expectation that it would be my thesis topic that I felt totally deflated. I just could not countenance the idea of working on a new topic from scratch. This was not only my own brainchild to begin with, and one that fortuitously coincided with a donor's interests, but our preliminary trip and contacts and agreements had gone far beyond the usual first steps for any thesis.
I bluntly told Seymour that no way was I was going to do any more primary research or hypothesising. I would delve into SRL data and fit what i could find to suit my tailor-made hypothesis. He was not too happy or even sanguine i would be able to do it. But somehow twisting and turning the data, I did produce a relationship. I found it quite difficult to convince my committee to accept this poor substitute, but more due to verbal jousting than logic, I now feel, i did manage to pass through that very respectable array of professors. It was a cop-out and I did not care!
I hated my new topic – it was so puerile, I am even now ashamed of it! i did use some trends in consumer choices of household durable purchases in lieu of my sociologically and developmentally worthy probe that was planned on adoption of new foods. i am sure this dislike had a lot to do with my dragging out the entire process. I was finally able to defend my thesis only eight years later! But there were other factors too.
Ramu's thesis topic was also accepted by his committee but at this point he decided we had to return to India the next semester, i.e. by the beginning of 71. This was partly due to his leave period expiring about that time, and partly due to a feeling that we could write up our dissertations on our own and submit for approval. Our respective guides tried to dissuade us, warning that students who planned to complete their dissertations in absentia generally never did so, due to the competing pressures in the outer world. I was a bit swayed by this argument and suggested that Ramu could explain to the govt. and get an extension. But he was keen and so we assured them blithely, we had more will power and would soon finish our work to their satisfaction.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Grand Tour
Meantime, Ramu and I had both taken our prelim exams that were equivalent to a Master's degree but since we both had this degree already from India, we did not bother to register for that. By now, our sights were firmly set on the Ph.D. - we meant to start on that in right earnest once summer vacation was over. The sudden three country trip that I had to undertake led to a new decision - to take a brief holiday in Europe after my officail travel ended with Iran. Babu and Prabha were then working in UK and they decided they would join us. They were to come by road in his car, and we would join them in or near Frankfurt, where I would land after Teheran.
Ramu found an extremely cheap fare via Icelandic air, and despite my touching exotic places such as Iran and the Phillipines, I was envious of his short stopover in Reykjavik. He did have enough time there to see its famous hot springs that heat the entire town during winter, and serve as spas otherwise. He got off at Luxembourg, but had no time to see any of that tiny principality.
When we set about getting our visas and tickets, the local travel agent who was arranging these told us we did not need visas at all for any of the six countries we planned to touch. Amazed, we reminded him of our nationality but he assured us that there had been a recent relaxation of the rules. So, after landing in Frankfurt, I took a train to Cologne, a short hop away, where I met Ramu and later, Prabha, the one coming from Luxembourg and the other by boat across the channel and train, I think. And Babu? He had to drop out due to work pressures, and with him went the car trip too.
Despite the scaffolding all around it, the cathedral at Cologne's facade was magnificent and inside, too, it was glorious. We took a boat trip to Heidelberg next. It was a fascinating town- said to have the oldest university and press in Europe. The university was a castle-like place, with dank prisons where students who defaulted on their studies etc. were punished by putting them for several days on a diet of bread and water!
We also saw huge barrels of wine in this town. It was perhaps that first evening that we were confronted with a menu card all in German. I had with me a German-French tourist dictionary and so volunteered to help out.. ok, I found the word for chicken that Prabha wanted and some veggie dish for R and me, grandly ordered it, and lo and behold the waiter brought us in some minutes a plate of fish and a veggie dish alright but totally different from what I ordered! I had in my hurried rendering of my translation abilities, ordered poisson mistaking it for chicken [poulet in French]! How the veggie dish got transformed into a barely edible mess I don't know.
We had so much difficulty in getting veggie food in Germany and even for P the available choices were so costly that we resorted to going to a grocery daily thereafter for our lunches, and picking up some bread or rolls, cheese, fruit and a yoghurt, juice or beer – this last for r and occasionally Prabha. it was much quicker too, which matters when one is sightseeing.
Our cruise down the Rhine was most enjoyable taking us down to Heidelberg and Stuttgart. H has the oldest university in Europe dating from the 15th century [the Renaissance and Reformation period], with some strange features. The tourist is taken to the students' prison that recalcitrant students were thrown in, fed on bread and water for days! The graffiti on the prison walls was most revealing of the types of 'crimes' the students were punished for – certainly almost every modern student would have ended up in incarceration if they were considered such today.
Heidelberg also houses an old brewery, a fascinating sight with its huge wooden barrels and vats for beer brewing. A quaint town, one of pleasantest we saw on the trip. Stuttgart was also a good visit, thoroughly modern with lovely gardens, museums and good walks. For us three, it is more memorable however for our little drama at a local grocery. As usual, we were picking up our lunch, but when we handled the apples from a pile, the shopkeeper came gesticulating and spewing an angry barrage of German. Naturally we did not understand much but gathered that we were not to touch anything – he would give us what we wanted himself. So, one of us showed three fingers pointing at the apple pile. To our horror, he took a brown bag and put in huge quantities and weighed us three kilos of it! We violently shook our heads and pointed to each one of us and the apples , still keeping aloft three fingers. O.K., here are three bags of three kilos each! Our faces and shoulders drooped in such despair that he got the point and disgorged all the apples back, looking angrier than before, if that was possible. Then one of us had an idea – show the brown bag already filled with rolls and cheese and point to the garden nearby and gesture as if eating and then show one finger and point to each one of us, and finally make as if to eat an apple. Now, he got it and put three apples in one bag; seeing us smile our acceptance, he too beamed and now talked in pleasant tones as he took the money. Whew, that was quite an experience in sign language!
From Stuttgart, we made our journey by train. Our next and final stop in Germany was the mediveal town of Munich famous for its beer halls. We had to experience that though only Ramu ordered a mug of it. A man sitting next to us got to chatting with us in English, and he insisted that we were insulting Munich and its most famous beer hall by not tasting its most famous product. So Prabha ordered a mug, but the face she made at the first sip was a give away. Still, our friend asked her how it was, and when she replied that it was terrible, he got really angry! We were happy he did not assault us to uphold the honour of his city!
Off to Salzburg in Austria; but at the border immigration stop, the Austrian officials shook their heads at our passports and said 'naughty, naughty' at our lack of visas but stamped a tourist one for a small fee, all this quite pleasantly. Pleased at this, we spent an enchanted time in Mozart's home town, which is also the locale of the 'Sound of Music' story, including an unforgettable descent into a disused salt mine in a speeding salt train. Train? Rather a set of open trolleys that plunged down the precipitous rails meant to transport the mined salt as well as workers. Several of us were herded into this holding the person before one tightly. Our screams as we hurtled down were quite piercingly impressive. We ended this short Austrian visit with a charming puppet show that Mozart had composed /created.
Next country on our list was Switzerland where again the immigration, this time a bit stern, chided us but issued our tourist visas. Cursing the travel agent, we vowed never to trust one again! After a few most pleasant days in Zurich, we took the train to Paris . Instead of waking up next morning in this dream city, we found ourselves awakened at the border at around midnight somewhere on the border. Trouble once again, and this time the immigration police were quite brusque. We could not convince them at all, and were rudely ejected out on to the platform in what we learnt was a town called Basel , till then not even a name to us. Somehow we found a taxi that took us to some modest hotel and we tumbled into bed exhausted for a few hours of sleep. [we later learnt the French had been increasingly plagued by illegal Indian and Pakistani immigrants]
As luck would have it, all this had happened on Saturday night, and we cursed the travel agent even more! Now the task of getting a French visa had to wait for Monday. The only 'new' sight in town was the zoo and rather dispiritedly we wound our way there. It turned out to be a great zoo and we forgot our disappointment and anger enjoying it. Thereafter getting the visa on Monday morning and taking the train that afternoon were just a breeze. The French visa was amazingly easy to get. Now delayed by a day and a half, we trundled into Paris. Once again, for R and myself, the sights of this fairy-tale city unfolded and this time we went to Versailles also.
Even the veggie food was delicious, beyond compare with what Germany could offer. However, it was almost next to impossible to get a glass of water in any restaurant. The waiters either gave us strange or dirty looks. Not that they could have thought of us as cheapskates, as they could only give us mineral water and that was costlier than wine.
Our final tourist stop was Brussels. Apart from the Pissing Boy Statue, we visited a Centre for African Studies, and its museum for which we had to take a delightful tram ride nto a forest. The museum was also very interesting. Well, our European adventures were over at this point. Prabha took a ferry train from Brussels back to London, and Ramu a train to Luxembourg en route to the USA. I had added London on my ticket as I wanted to visit Babu for a day, before I in turn left for Urbana.
Landing at Heathrow airport, I was in for a grim shock. The immigration authorities were convinced I was a potential illegal immigrant. A thousand questions – why was I coming only for a day? Why did I not get a visa or work permit [no matter that being a citizen of a Commonwealth country, was not supposed to need one for just a short stay] . I showed all my papers, tickets, U of I id and credit cards, and explained all I could, but he would not budge. Then in exasperation I said, 'Alright, I do not want to come into your country. But then you must fetch my nephew who has, I know, been patiently standing outside waiting for me. I will just give him a hug and go back'. That seemed to finally break his resistance, and he allowed me through!
I had asked Babu to book tickets for us for a play, but he could or did not. Luckily so, for immediately we got to his place I fell asleep for so long we were barely able to make it to a simple dinner.
Ramu found an extremely cheap fare via Icelandic air, and despite my touching exotic places such as Iran and the Phillipines, I was envious of his short stopover in Reykjavik. He did have enough time there to see its famous hot springs that heat the entire town during winter, and serve as spas otherwise. He got off at Luxembourg, but had no time to see any of that tiny principality.
When we set about getting our visas and tickets, the local travel agent who was arranging these told us we did not need visas at all for any of the six countries we planned to touch. Amazed, we reminded him of our nationality but he assured us that there had been a recent relaxation of the rules. So, after landing in Frankfurt, I took a train to Cologne, a short hop away, where I met Ramu and later, Prabha, the one coming from Luxembourg and the other by boat across the channel and train, I think. And Babu? He had to drop out due to work pressures, and with him went the car trip too.
Despite the scaffolding all around it, the cathedral at Cologne's facade was magnificent and inside, too, it was glorious. We took a boat trip to Heidelberg next. It was a fascinating town- said to have the oldest university and press in Europe. The university was a castle-like place, with dank prisons where students who defaulted on their studies etc. were punished by putting them for several days on a diet of bread and water!
We also saw huge barrels of wine in this town. It was perhaps that first evening that we were confronted with a menu card all in German. I had with me a German-French tourist dictionary and so volunteered to help out.. ok, I found the word for chicken that Prabha wanted and some veggie dish for R and me, grandly ordered it, and lo and behold the waiter brought us in some minutes a plate of fish and a veggie dish alright but totally different from what I ordered! I had in my hurried rendering of my translation abilities, ordered poisson mistaking it for chicken [poulet in French]! How the veggie dish got transformed into a barely edible mess I don't know.
We had so much difficulty in getting veggie food in Germany and even for P the available choices were so costly that we resorted to going to a grocery daily thereafter for our lunches, and picking up some bread or rolls, cheese, fruit and a yoghurt, juice or beer – this last for r and occasionally Prabha. it was much quicker too, which matters when one is sightseeing.
Our cruise down the Rhine was most enjoyable taking us down to Heidelberg and Stuttgart. H has the oldest university in Europe dating from the 15th century [the Renaissance and Reformation period], with some strange features. The tourist is taken to the students' prison that recalcitrant students were thrown in, fed on bread and water for days! The graffiti on the prison walls was most revealing of the types of 'crimes' the students were punished for – certainly almost every modern student would have ended up in incarceration if they were considered such today.
Heidelberg also houses an old brewery, a fascinating sight with its huge wooden barrels and vats for beer brewing. A quaint town, one of pleasantest we saw on the trip. Stuttgart was also a good visit, thoroughly modern with lovely gardens, museums and good walks. For us three, it is more memorable however for our little drama at a local grocery. As usual, we were picking up our lunch, but when we handled the apples from a pile, the shopkeeper came gesticulating and spewing an angry barrage of German. Naturally we did not understand much but gathered that we were not to touch anything – he would give us what we wanted himself. So, one of us showed three fingers pointing at the apple pile. To our horror, he took a brown bag and put in huge quantities and weighed us three kilos of it! We violently shook our heads and pointed to each one of us and the apples , still keeping aloft three fingers. O.K., here are three bags of three kilos each! Our faces and shoulders drooped in such despair that he got the point and disgorged all the apples back, looking angrier than before, if that was possible. Then one of us had an idea – show the brown bag already filled with rolls and cheese and point to the garden nearby and gesture as if eating and then show one finger and point to each one of us, and finally make as if to eat an apple. Now, he got it and put three apples in one bag; seeing us smile our acceptance, he too beamed and now talked in pleasant tones as he took the money. Whew, that was quite an experience in sign language!
From Stuttgart, we made our journey by train. Our next and final stop in Germany was the mediveal town of Munich famous for its beer halls. We had to experience that though only Ramu ordered a mug of it. A man sitting next to us got to chatting with us in English, and he insisted that we were insulting Munich and its most famous beer hall by not tasting its most famous product. So Prabha ordered a mug, but the face she made at the first sip was a give away. Still, our friend asked her how it was, and when she replied that it was terrible, he got really angry! We were happy he did not assault us to uphold the honour of his city!
Off to Salzburg in Austria; but at the border immigration stop, the Austrian officials shook their heads at our passports and said 'naughty, naughty' at our lack of visas but stamped a tourist one for a small fee, all this quite pleasantly. Pleased at this, we spent an enchanted time in Mozart's home town, which is also the locale of the 'Sound of Music' story, including an unforgettable descent into a disused salt mine in a speeding salt train. Train? Rather a set of open trolleys that plunged down the precipitous rails meant to transport the mined salt as well as workers. Several of us were herded into this holding the person before one tightly. Our screams as we hurtled down were quite piercingly impressive. We ended this short Austrian visit with a charming puppet show that Mozart had composed /created.
Next country on our list was Switzerland where again the immigration, this time a bit stern, chided us but issued our tourist visas. Cursing the travel agent, we vowed never to trust one again! After a few most pleasant days in Zurich, we took the train to Paris . Instead of waking up next morning in this dream city, we found ourselves awakened at the border at around midnight somewhere on the border. Trouble once again, and this time the immigration police were quite brusque. We could not convince them at all, and were rudely ejected out on to the platform in what we learnt was a town called Basel , till then not even a name to us. Somehow we found a taxi that took us to some modest hotel and we tumbled into bed exhausted for a few hours of sleep. [we later learnt the French had been increasingly plagued by illegal Indian and Pakistani immigrants]
As luck would have it, all this had happened on Saturday night, and we cursed the travel agent even more! Now the task of getting a French visa had to wait for Monday. The only 'new' sight in town was the zoo and rather dispiritedly we wound our way there. It turned out to be a great zoo and we forgot our disappointment and anger enjoying it. Thereafter getting the visa on Monday morning and taking the train that afternoon were just a breeze. The French visa was amazingly easy to get. Now delayed by a day and a half, we trundled into Paris. Once again, for R and myself, the sights of this fairy-tale city unfolded and this time we went to Versailles also.
Even the veggie food was delicious, beyond compare with what Germany could offer. However, it was almost next to impossible to get a glass of water in any restaurant. The waiters either gave us strange or dirty looks. Not that they could have thought of us as cheapskates, as they could only give us mineral water and that was costlier than wine.
Our final tourist stop was Brussels. Apart from the Pissing Boy Statue, we visited a Centre for African Studies, and its museum for which we had to take a delightful tram ride nto a forest. The museum was also very interesting. Well, our European adventures were over at this point. Prabha took a ferry train from Brussels back to London, and Ramu a train to Luxembourg en route to the USA. I had added London on my ticket as I wanted to visit Babu for a day, before I in turn left for Urbana.
Landing at Heathrow airport, I was in for a grim shock. The immigration authorities were convinced I was a potential illegal immigrant. A thousand questions – why was I coming only for a day? Why did I not get a visa or work permit [no matter that being a citizen of a Commonwealth country, was not supposed to need one for just a short stay] . I showed all my papers, tickets, U of I id and credit cards, and explained all I could, but he would not budge. Then in exasperation I said, 'Alright, I do not want to come into your country. But then you must fetch my nephew who has, I know, been patiently standing outside waiting for me. I will just give him a hug and go back'. That seemed to finally break his resistance, and he allowed me through!
I had asked Babu to book tickets for us for a play, but he could or did not. Luckily so, for immediately we got to his place I fell asleep for so long we were barely able to make it to a simple dinner.
Grand Plans for my Thesis
It was during the second year of our u of I life that RF announced at a staff meeting that USAID had sent round a circular asking universities if anyone was interested in taking up a project on 'Attitudes to New Foods in Developing Countries'. Almost before he finished, Seymour shot back,' yes, we should take it up – Padmini already has the outline of this project!' he then went on to explain to the group my class project of the previous year, and how I could develop it as my dissertation topic.
RF sent in the acceptance reply and Seymour and I got to work on the detailed proposal. We found out that USAID was interested specifically in attitudes to cow peas in Iran and the hybrid rice varieties in India and the Philippines. It was ideal for me. I would myself do fieldwork in India under a local guide for my thesis while collaborating with research scholars in the other two countries, and Seymour would be the overall coordinator. The next few days we went into a huddle and worked up my class paper into a pukka proposal with deadlines, activity plans and budget.
With summer approaching, we had initial favorable reactions from USAID, and were planning to write to our potential counterparts in the three countries when we suddenly had another piece of good luck. A consortium of Mid-West Universities grant was announced for preparatory work including travel on research proposals from institutions in the area. We applied for it and quite quickly found the two of us funded for travel to all three countries to firm up our proposal. We modified our letters to the three academics abroad, telling them we would meet them in person during summer to work out the orientation and scope of the study, as also their involvement in it.
Seymour and I found all three academics very interested in our proposed collaboration – Dr. Celia in the University of Phillipines in Quezon City, Dr. Prodipto Roy in the Council for Social Development in New Delhi, and a professor in Teheran. We tied up with Prodipto to be my local thesis guide. We also went to Poona, to contact possible collaborators in the Deccan College for the field work/thesis.
The Poona trip helped me meet Annaiya and Gopala. I stayed at home while Seymour stayed in a hotel. But I recall his joining us for a meal when I had to warn him not to use his right hand, which had held some 'juta'/'yenjilu'/[impure through contact with the mouth] stuff, for picking up more from the table.
The Shah was still ruling in Iran, and we were able to sight-see freely in Teheran. Gazing at the famous Kohinoor diamond in the museum that Nadir Shah had looted from India centuries ago, I muttered to Seymour, 'this belongs to us!' One other thing I recall is the very westernized attire the urban educated women wore as against the salwar-kameezes of the housemaid class. I drew curious and sometimes scornful glances when I moved around in the more upscale areas, as I was also mostly in s-ks!
RF sent in the acceptance reply and Seymour and I got to work on the detailed proposal. We found out that USAID was interested specifically in attitudes to cow peas in Iran and the hybrid rice varieties in India and the Philippines. It was ideal for me. I would myself do fieldwork in India under a local guide for my thesis while collaborating with research scholars in the other two countries, and Seymour would be the overall coordinator. The next few days we went into a huddle and worked up my class paper into a pukka proposal with deadlines, activity plans and budget.
With summer approaching, we had initial favorable reactions from USAID, and were planning to write to our potential counterparts in the three countries when we suddenly had another piece of good luck. A consortium of Mid-West Universities grant was announced for preparatory work including travel on research proposals from institutions in the area. We applied for it and quite quickly found the two of us funded for travel to all three countries to firm up our proposal. We modified our letters to the three academics abroad, telling them we would meet them in person during summer to work out the orientation and scope of the study, as also their involvement in it.
Seymour and I found all three academics very interested in our proposed collaboration – Dr. Celia in the University of Phillipines in Quezon City, Dr. Prodipto Roy in the Council for Social Development in New Delhi, and a professor in Teheran. We tied up with Prodipto to be my local thesis guide. We also went to Poona, to contact possible collaborators in the Deccan College for the field work/thesis.
The Poona trip helped me meet Annaiya and Gopala. I stayed at home while Seymour stayed in a hotel. But I recall his joining us for a meal when I had to warn him not to use his right hand, which had held some 'juta'/'yenjilu'/[impure through contact with the mouth] stuff, for picking up more from the table.
The Shah was still ruling in Iran, and we were able to sight-see freely in Teheran. Gazing at the famous Kohinoor diamond in the museum that Nadir Shah had looted from India centuries ago, I muttered to Seymour, 'this belongs to us!' One other thing I recall is the very westernized attire the urban educated women wore as against the salwar-kameezes of the housemaid class. I drew curious and sometimes scornful glances when I moved around in the more upscale areas, as I was also mostly in s-ks!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Cousins Abroad
A Memorable Trip for Greenhorns!
Actually, one of our very first trips was to Indianapolis where Chandru, my cousin, and Bhama lived for a while. We had all the detailed directions from them and reached the outskirts of the city in good time. Then we had to get on the famous Indianapolis highway, a huge circular multi-lane one that encircles the city, with innumerable entries and exits leading to different areas. It was an overwhelming and frightening experience. We passed our exit before we realised we had come anywhere near it, so we continued on the full round till we neared it again! So, carefully, we slowed down, but only to discover that the exit was on the left, while we were in the righmost lane [ we had never experienced such an exit before] and so we had to pass it again. After all, the Indianpolis 500 had at least a half dozen lanes and we could not just veer left [like Bangalore's irresponsible, daredevil bike riders]! So, off we went on our third and luckily our final attempt to get off from the highway, and this time succeeded, to our immense relief.
When we narrated this story to Chandru and Bhama, they had a hearty laugh and he asked us, 'But why did you not get off at the next exit, and turn back in the other direction and exit at the right one?' Our jaws dropped – we had not thought of that possibility at all!
We were more worldly-wise in our next several trips – one to Salem, Il, the home town of Abraham Lincoln was a real eye-opener. It was a whole town museum and looked like one of our rural or small town places, even those that one sees in old photographs of the early 20th century. No cars of course, but horse-drawn buggies; victorian-style long dresses for the genteel ladies and top hats and canes for the men in three piece suits. The house interiors were mind boggling – how quickly had America transformed itself from this pre-industrial look to the modern sleek flats and suburban houses! The utensils in the kitchen and the farm implements were huge, of iron or other metal generally and looked so unwieldy! Time truly stood still in that period scene.
St. Louis, on the other hand, was very modern in its newer architecture, the towering glory of which was the graceful arch near the river Missouri formed by two steel curved pillars. We went there for one of our training sessions and so did not see much, including the low-income areas or downtown.
Officiating at a Hindu Wedding, Us!
Lakshman, my cousin, announced around this time that he was planning to get married to Mary Beth. His parents, Surimama and Rajalskhmimanni, were first dead-set against this, but when he remained adamant, relented enough to suggest they have a Hindu wedding over and above the church ceremony that MB's parents had planned. We went to the church wedding in Louisville, Ky, and had a good time. What we learnt there was that we both had been nominated to conduct the Hindu wedding. A more inappropriate pair could not have been chosen, but then S.mama had no other choice! Those days, the US was not overflowing with our clan as it is now.
So one weekend, L and MB came over to Urbana. We got hold of some suggestions on how to conduct a simple ceremony, just a little more elaborate than our own, and invited a few friends to witness it, as the Shastras dictate. The priest – none other than my other cousin, Balu from Rochester, NY! I somehow managed to drape MB in the nine-yard sari that my aunt and uncle had sent over, and she looked quite resplendent in it. Of course, Lakshman knew how to wear his dhothi without any help from the others. After the brief ceremony, the priest doubled as chef and cooked chicken while I made some veggie dishes!
Actually, one of our very first trips was to Indianapolis where Chandru, my cousin, and Bhama lived for a while. We had all the detailed directions from them and reached the outskirts of the city in good time. Then we had to get on the famous Indianapolis highway, a huge circular multi-lane one that encircles the city, with innumerable entries and exits leading to different areas. It was an overwhelming and frightening experience. We passed our exit before we realised we had come anywhere near it, so we continued on the full round till we neared it again! So, carefully, we slowed down, but only to discover that the exit was on the left, while we were in the righmost lane [ we had never experienced such an exit before] and so we had to pass it again. After all, the Indianpolis 500 had at least a half dozen lanes and we could not just veer left [like Bangalore's irresponsible, daredevil bike riders]! So, off we went on our third and luckily our final attempt to get off from the highway, and this time succeeded, to our immense relief.
When we narrated this story to Chandru and Bhama, they had a hearty laugh and he asked us, 'But why did you not get off at the next exit, and turn back in the other direction and exit at the right one?' Our jaws dropped – we had not thought of that possibility at all!
We were more worldly-wise in our next several trips – one to Salem, Il, the home town of Abraham Lincoln was a real eye-opener. It was a whole town museum and looked like one of our rural or small town places, even those that one sees in old photographs of the early 20th century. No cars of course, but horse-drawn buggies; victorian-style long dresses for the genteel ladies and top hats and canes for the men in three piece suits. The house interiors were mind boggling – how quickly had America transformed itself from this pre-industrial look to the modern sleek flats and suburban houses! The utensils in the kitchen and the farm implements were huge, of iron or other metal generally and looked so unwieldy! Time truly stood still in that period scene.
St. Louis, on the other hand, was very modern in its newer architecture, the towering glory of which was the graceful arch near the river Missouri formed by two steel curved pillars. We went there for one of our training sessions and so did not see much, including the low-income areas or downtown.
Officiating at a Hindu Wedding, Us!
Lakshman, my cousin, announced around this time that he was planning to get married to Mary Beth. His parents, Surimama and Rajalskhmimanni, were first dead-set against this, but when he remained adamant, relented enough to suggest they have a Hindu wedding over and above the church ceremony that MB's parents had planned. We went to the church wedding in Louisville, Ky, and had a good time. What we learnt there was that we both had been nominated to conduct the Hindu wedding. A more inappropriate pair could not have been chosen, but then S.mama had no other choice! Those days, the US was not overflowing with our clan as it is now.
So one weekend, L and MB came over to Urbana. We got hold of some suggestions on how to conduct a simple ceremony, just a little more elaborate than our own, and invited a few friends to witness it, as the Shastras dictate. The priest – none other than my other cousin, Balu from Rochester, NY! I somehow managed to drape MB in the nine-yard sari that my aunt and uncle had sent over, and she looked quite resplendent in it. Of course, Lakshman knew how to wear his dhothi without any help from the others. After the brief ceremony, the priest doubled as chef and cooked chicken while I made some veggie dishes!
Campus Life and Tourism
A threesome.
It was sometime toward the end of '69 that Gita joined the U of I journalism course. She moved in with us and soon we were making fun of her being called 'kattaar' as in additon to the typical south indian practice of having the first letter of her father's name as an initial, she used her ancestral village name as another, again a common practice in our area. Spelt Kutur, with the u pronounced like the oo in 'hoot' . And it was also Ramu's initial, Mugur, similarly pronounced in India and mispronounced here as 'Magaar', that tickled us.
It had become a regular practice for me to come back from work or class and hustle up a dinner. One Tuesday, when I usually came late, and for some reason was further delayed that day, I was hungering to eat soon, only to find both Ramu and Gita serenely reading a book each. Then I gave them an ultimatum. They knew I was late on Tuesdays, didn't they? Well, hereafter I would not prepare dinner on Tuesdays! One of them could. Rather taken aback at this outburst, they quickly made a pasta and this became the new arrangement.
A Footstool is Advertised
One day, soon after we moved into the student housing flat, I saw a notice on the bulletin board about a footstool for one dollar. So I went to that apartment and picked it up. Casually, I asked the woman if she had anything else to sell. Well, she said, their car, a Volkswagen, was available. How much? Two hundred and fifty, she said. I told her I would be back and in a few hours, after ramu and I had a look and a drive in it, the deal was made.
We loved that car and had a lot of fun in it. It was easy to park, and start. In winter, in the open parking lot that the housing unit had, while all others were struggling to get their cars started, our air-cooled engine would roar at first go. But, usually, we had nowhere to go in it during the week, as we could not drive into campus, being considered students. So we had to sit in the still cold car every other day to keep our battery in condition! That made us aware of the one defect our very own 'Herbie' had – its left side [the driver's side]heater was not heating at all. Even after a mechanic tinkered with it, it refused to work. Still we took it on short and long journeys - the east coast in the spring break – New York, staying with Krishna and Arvind in Queens, Washington [where we stayed with R's brother, Nanju and family] and the Niagara falls [there we met up with Balu, my cousin, who was studying in Rochester]. The car behaved beautifully except that on the high altitude roads, the winds were so strong that we felt we might blown away in our puny vehicle any moment. Another problem was the passing by of the monstrous trucks- they seemed to suck our car in, well almost. But we did survive these fearful events.
We were less fortunate with the heater on this as well as on other trips. As we went northwards, the heat was on, but we had to change drivers pretty frequently to avoid having our left leg get so frozen that it might lead to amputation issues!
Another enjoyable trip that summer was our camping trip in our friend Palani's commodious car. We went to Yellowstone, the Badlands in the Dakotas, and Glacier National Park [called International Peace Park in the Canada section]. Such variety in one trip! We bought a tent that the two men would put up in ten minutes flat, while I cooked a simple meal within that time! [Using instant potatoes, dehydrated onions, canned peas/beans and other vegs, minute rice and so on. One day we even had masala dosa with bisquix for the dosa mix]. We found the tent life, with sometimes indifferent toilet and bath facilities, a bit too much to take throughout with the long distances we drove, so we alternated staying in motels to get a real good night's rest and a proper shower. Still, some of the camping sites were quite comfy with all amenities that you could either hook up to or in a common amenity section.
Out in the Dakotas, there was no speed limit and we touched 140 mph on those unbelievably straight roadsm so straight that one might easily fall asleep on while driving. The sign 'next gas station 100 miles' came in view often on these roads,and there was not a soul or a habitation in sight most of the time.
Of all the glorious sights we were treated to on this trip, the serene and clear glacier lakes and hazy mountains of the Glacier National Park were the most breathtaking.
Later that year, Bimal Ganguly, another friend, got his Ph.D. And we had a party to celebrate it at our flat. He brought some champagne, which I had made him promise he would do if he got his degree, but with just a couple of sips, I was sick. And a hangover the next day! I have been wary of champagne ever since.
It was sometime toward the end of '69 that Gita joined the U of I journalism course. She moved in with us and soon we were making fun of her being called 'kattaar' as in additon to the typical south indian practice of having the first letter of her father's name as an initial, she used her ancestral village name as another, again a common practice in our area. Spelt Kutur, with the u pronounced like the oo in 'hoot' . And it was also Ramu's initial, Mugur, similarly pronounced in India and mispronounced here as 'Magaar', that tickled us.
It had become a regular practice for me to come back from work or class and hustle up a dinner. One Tuesday, when I usually came late, and for some reason was further delayed that day, I was hungering to eat soon, only to find both Ramu and Gita serenely reading a book each. Then I gave them an ultimatum. They knew I was late on Tuesdays, didn't they? Well, hereafter I would not prepare dinner on Tuesdays! One of them could. Rather taken aback at this outburst, they quickly made a pasta and this became the new arrangement.
A Footstool is Advertised
One day, soon after we moved into the student housing flat, I saw a notice on the bulletin board about a footstool for one dollar. So I went to that apartment and picked it up. Casually, I asked the woman if she had anything else to sell. Well, she said, their car, a Volkswagen, was available. How much? Two hundred and fifty, she said. I told her I would be back and in a few hours, after ramu and I had a look and a drive in it, the deal was made.
We loved that car and had a lot of fun in it. It was easy to park, and start. In winter, in the open parking lot that the housing unit had, while all others were struggling to get their cars started, our air-cooled engine would roar at first go. But, usually, we had nowhere to go in it during the week, as we could not drive into campus, being considered students. So we had to sit in the still cold car every other day to keep our battery in condition! That made us aware of the one defect our very own 'Herbie' had – its left side [the driver's side]heater was not heating at all. Even after a mechanic tinkered with it, it refused to work. Still we took it on short and long journeys - the east coast in the spring break – New York, staying with Krishna and Arvind in Queens, Washington [where we stayed with R's brother, Nanju and family] and the Niagara falls [there we met up with Balu, my cousin, who was studying in Rochester]. The car behaved beautifully except that on the high altitude roads, the winds were so strong that we felt we might blown away in our puny vehicle any moment. Another problem was the passing by of the monstrous trucks- they seemed to suck our car in, well almost. But we did survive these fearful events.
We were less fortunate with the heater on this as well as on other trips. As we went northwards, the heat was on, but we had to change drivers pretty frequently to avoid having our left leg get so frozen that it might lead to amputation issues!
Another enjoyable trip that summer was our camping trip in our friend Palani's commodious car. We went to Yellowstone, the Badlands in the Dakotas, and Glacier National Park [called International Peace Park in the Canada section]. Such variety in one trip! We bought a tent that the two men would put up in ten minutes flat, while I cooked a simple meal within that time! [Using instant potatoes, dehydrated onions, canned peas/beans and other vegs, minute rice and so on. One day we even had masala dosa with bisquix for the dosa mix]. We found the tent life, with sometimes indifferent toilet and bath facilities, a bit too much to take throughout with the long distances we drove, so we alternated staying in motels to get a real good night's rest and a proper shower. Still, some of the camping sites were quite comfy with all amenities that you could either hook up to or in a common amenity section.
Out in the Dakotas, there was no speed limit and we touched 140 mph on those unbelievably straight roadsm so straight that one might easily fall asleep on while driving. The sign 'next gas station 100 miles' came in view often on these roads,and there was not a soul or a habitation in sight most of the time.
Of all the glorious sights we were treated to on this trip, the serene and clear glacier lakes and hazy mountains of the Glacier National Park were the most breathtaking.
Later that year, Bimal Ganguly, another friend, got his Ph.D. And we had a party to celebrate it at our flat. He brought some champagne, which I had made him promise he would do if he got his degree, but with just a couple of sips, I was sick. And a hangover the next day! I have been wary of champagne ever since.
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