Chinese Food
The Chinese Food in India is some of the best I've ever had. I might be biased, because eating foreign food here is a nice change. Don't get me wrong - the Indian food is spicy and tasty - but a bite of Chinese is always nice.
Also, I would compare the availabity of beef in India, to the availability of Duck or Elk in resturaunts in the U.S. Besides the fact that a large majority of resturaunts do not serve meat at all.
McDonalds Abroad
In Israel, the price structure and quantity of a McDonalds value meal is about the same as the United States. And I believe it's even a little more expensive in Japan.
The local McDonalds here in Mumbai, India has 6 value menu options. 3 varities of chicken, 2 veggie, and one Mexican wrap. The counters are the same, the atmosphere is the same, the cooking facilities and machinery is the same. The McChicken tastes the same. The veggie options are of course unique, and taste Indian.
The price is different. The largest size you can get here, is the medium size you can get in America. Though the pricing structure is different, you can get almost twice the amount of food for the same price in India. (You will pay less than $3 for the largest size value meal). An ice cream cone costs about 25 cents.
Also, they've done something here that I haven't seen at any other McDonalds (or any fast-food resturaunt for that matter) that I've visited. As you are waiting in line, they have an employee write down your order on a form, then you are handed the form, so that order goes more quickly when you're at the counter.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
The Loo
The particular McDonalds resturaunt I visited also had a common sink area, with a uni-sex toliet. Nicer resturaunts have air-dryers (not paper towels), as paper goods (toliet paper, paper towels, napkins) are not common in this culture. Though, napkins are more common than paper towels and toliet paper.
And I'm sure you might be wondering by now about my experience in a public restroom. Well, I haven't been brave enough to try one yet. It was a surprise to me to find that the schools (both college and elementary schools) do not have toliet paper either. Instead there are toliet bowls built into the ground, and either a hose or a bucket for sanitary purposes. The nicer resturaunts and hotels have "sittable-toliets" and toliet-paper.
And I'm sure you might be wondering by now about my experience in a public restroom. Well, I haven't been brave enough to try one yet. It was a surprise to me to find that the schools (both college and elementary schools) do not have toliet paper either. Instead there are toliet bowls built into the ground, and either a hose or a bucket for sanitary purposes. The nicer resturaunts and hotels have "sittable-toliets" and toliet-paper.
5 Fingers
India is like a hand with 5 fingers. Each limb extended in a different direction. Independently moving from one other, yet joined together to form one cohesive unit. The biggest barrier is learning how to manage those fingers. After being here one month, it seems the biggest area for improvment within the Indian culture is a stable infrastructure and managment system.
The potential of the people here is quite astonishing. 2 weeks ago, our team observed a Social Impact Awards Event at one of the local colleges. One of the winners at the event was starting a company that would employee woman in poverty called "rag-pickers." Without being employed, these woman would cyphin through garbage, searching for plastic bags that others have thrown away. Similar to those homeless in the United States that would rumage through garbage looking for recyclable aluminum cans. Just as collecting aluminum can turn a small profit in the United States, the rag-pickers here could sell used plastic bags for a few rupees. Organizing these "rag-pickers" is the first step to creating a productive system that improves the living conditions of those employed and provides a valuable service to the community.
If the nerves are connected in the right way, the potential for the hand of India is mind-blowing. The people that I am meeting here: Shaila Naik, Malini, and others that are part of the education enterprise system, are the foundation for transforming the Hand of India.
The potential of the people here is quite astonishing. 2 weeks ago, our team observed a Social Impact Awards Event at one of the local colleges. One of the winners at the event was starting a company that would employee woman in poverty called "rag-pickers." Without being employed, these woman would cyphin through garbage, searching for plastic bags that others have thrown away. Similar to those homeless in the United States that would rumage through garbage looking for recyclable aluminum cans. Just as collecting aluminum can turn a small profit in the United States, the rag-pickers here could sell used plastic bags for a few rupees. Organizing these "rag-pickers" is the first step to creating a productive system that improves the living conditions of those employed and provides a valuable service to the community.
If the nerves are connected in the right way, the potential for the hand of India is mind-blowing. The people that I am meeting here: Shaila Naik, Malini, and others that are part of the education enterprise system, are the foundation for transforming the Hand of India.
Singin on the Train
The train pulls in. Men jump off in herds. I follow in line without much effort, as those behind me are eagerly pushing me into the train so they can board before it starts moving again. Cramped inside. The train starts to move.
Bells. Drums. A group of about 8 men start chanting and singing. I later found out that this religious singing is done by a certain caste of Hindus to not only pass the time, but also fill the hour long train rides with music instead of gossip.
Bells. Drums. A group of about 8 men start chanting and singing. I later found out that this religious singing is done by a certain caste of Hindus to not only pass the time, but also fill the hour long train rides with music instead of gossip.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Dahanu
I had an opportunity to visit the quite village of Dahanu; a quaint town that is famous for its Chikoo fruit resting 150 Km North of Mumbai.
Several friendly Somaiya University students accompanied us for the journey to the village. They wanted to show us first hand the children who were gaining from their University/village partnernship.
Even just the ride to Dahanu was a magical experience. Just as we began our 2 hour journey, and passed over the bridge linking the city of Mumbai to the mainland of Maharashta (a state in India) I began to drift off into a colorful dream.
When I awoke, I was quickly escorted out of the car. As I was still acclamating to my new surrondings, I peered around me to find myself in a small village... somewhere.. in India. A village.. in India? No. Am I dreaming? Or did I just wake from a dream?
Clap! Clap! Clap! I was quickly jolted into the reality of my dream with a brisk and uniform welcome from over 200 village students who awaited our arrival in the school's gymnasium. We sat with a panel of faculty at the head of the spacious room that opened freely to the farmlands surronding the school grounds.
The next few hours was a wonderful escape from the fast paced life of the bustling city of Mumbai. As every formal ceremony begans, the ornamental candle is lit (usually in front of a portrait of either Lord Krishna, Shiva, or Ganesha).
After the candle lighting ceremony, the school was led in prayer by 3 girls who were lead in their class. After the pleasure of listening to songs sung in their native tongue (which I believe is Maharati), the school principal guided the students through several inspirational stories to encourage them to do well in their studies. Each story held an underlying theme of determination, perservirance, courage, and a focused mind.
I was amazed to see that over 200 students ranging from age 6 to 14 held their attention better than 50 college students would in the same situation.
After the stories were shared, I was presented with a flower, and candy as a token of appreciation for just being at the school. One of my Indian collegues said it is a tradition to always hold a ceremony with flowers, candy, and prayer.
The decks pictured above are the classrooms for the children attending this school. As this school serves a very large surronding area too vast for daily commute to and from school, children and teachers live at the school.
MORE PICTURES
Several friendly Somaiya University students accompanied us for the journey to the village. They wanted to show us first hand the children who were gaining from their University/village partnernship.
Even just the ride to Dahanu was a magical experience. Just as we began our 2 hour journey, and passed over the bridge linking the city of Mumbai to the mainland of Maharashta (a state in India) I began to drift off into a colorful dream.
When I awoke, I was quickly escorted out of the car. As I was still acclamating to my new surrondings, I peered around me to find myself in a small village... somewhere.. in India. A village.. in India? No. Am I dreaming? Or did I just wake from a dream?
Clap! Clap! Clap! I was quickly jolted into the reality of my dream with a brisk and uniform welcome from over 200 village students who awaited our arrival in the school's gymnasium. We sat with a panel of faculty at the head of the spacious room that opened freely to the farmlands surronding the school grounds.
The next few hours was a wonderful escape from the fast paced life of the bustling city of Mumbai. As every formal ceremony begans, the ornamental candle is lit (usually in front of a portrait of either Lord Krishna, Shiva, or Ganesha).
After the candle lighting ceremony, the school was led in prayer by 3 girls who were lead in their class. After the pleasure of listening to songs sung in their native tongue (which I believe is Maharati), the school principal guided the students through several inspirational stories to encourage them to do well in their studies. Each story held an underlying theme of determination, perservirance, courage, and a focused mind.
I was amazed to see that over 200 students ranging from age 6 to 14 held their attention better than 50 college students would in the same situation.
After the stories were shared, I was presented with a flower, and candy as a token of appreciation for just being at the school. One of my Indian collegues said it is a tradition to always hold a ceremony with flowers, candy, and prayer.
The decks pictured above are the classrooms for the children attending this school. As this school serves a very large surronding area too vast for daily commute to and from school, children and teachers live at the school.
MORE PICTURES
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
The Chicken Farm
This past weekend during my personal time, I visited
a chicken farm on the island of Alibah. A one hour
boat ride from Mumbai, and then a jeep drive to the
chicken farm's location. I got to see the process of
preparing live chickens for human consumption (as well
as fish food, as to not waste any by-products) under
the supervision of the Chabbad Rabbi from Mumbai, Rabbi
Gavriel Holtzberg.
I participated in inspecting each chicken to insure
it did not have broken bones, and therefore deem it
kosher. A kosher chicken must have been fully
healthy while it was alive. Therefore, if a chicken
had a bone that was obviously broken while it was
alive, it could not be kosher. These bones are easily
noticable even after the chicken is not alive anymore.
Other kashrut ("koshering") requirements include a
specific way to cut its throat, salting the chicken,
and other preparation and cleansing details.
I have never witnessed an animal being slaughtered
before. It was a very graphic experience, but very
educational as well. I can now appreciate eating
chicken that much more, by fully seeing the process it
takes to go from the coop to the dinner table.
a chicken farm on the island of Alibah. A one hour
boat ride from Mumbai, and then a jeep drive to the
chicken farm's location. I got to see the process of
preparing live chickens for human consumption (as well
as fish food, as to not waste any by-products) under
the supervision of the Chabbad Rabbi from Mumbai, Rabbi
Gavriel Holtzberg.
I participated in inspecting each chicken to insure
it did not have broken bones, and therefore deem it
kosher. A kosher chicken must have been fully
healthy while it was alive. Therefore, if a chicken
had a bone that was obviously broken while it was
alive, it could not be kosher. These bones are easily
noticable even after the chicken is not alive anymore.
Other kashrut ("koshering") requirements include a
specific way to cut its throat, salting the chicken,
and other preparation and cleansing details.
I have never witnessed an animal being slaughtered
before. It was a very graphic experience, but very
educational as well. I can now appreciate eating
chicken that much more, by fully seeing the process it
takes to go from the coop to the dinner table.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Personal Global Impact
The past 2 1/2 weeks have been a swirling combination
of incredible sensations and experiences. Personally,
it's been amazing to watch SIFE grow over the past 4
years, and this global internship program seems like
the beginning of an amazing leap in our organizations
outreach and impact, that I am privileged to be part
of. Here are some thoughts on my experience in India thus far:
CULTURAL EXPERIENCE
1. The Wobble
The ins and outs of Indian mannerisms have been a fun
challenge to adjust to. Our team has coined the
"wobble" as a unique Indian gesture. The Wobble is a
rhythmic shake of the head moving the right ear
towards the right shoulder, and then moving the left
ear towards the left shoulder, back and forth. It's
not a nod, and it's not a shake. It's: "The Wobble."
In general, the wobble always means: Okay ("ach-ey" in
Hindi). Its intensity varies depending on its
implication:
One wobble = sure.
A few wobbles = ok.
many wobbles = of course!
At first, it was a very noticeable culture gab. As
initially the wobble can easily be interpreted as a
head shake meaning "NO." For example, when asking for
a taxi driver if he knew what direction to go, he
would answer "yes" with a wobble.
2. IDENTITY
Everywhere we go, our team is a spectacle. Traveling
alone, not as much (at least for myself). I have been
identified as a Muslim, Iranian, Israeli, and Enrique
Englacious.
A Muslim: because some assume that my Jewish knitted
cap ("Kippah" in Hebrew, "Yarmulke" [pronounced
Ya-mu-kah] in Yiddush) is misinterpreted as a Muslim
cap.
An Iranian: I believe because of my skin color, arm
hair, and facial expressions. This has happened more
often when Indians notice I am reading a book of
Hebrew text, and they don't know it's Hebrew.
Israeli: As many Israelis will vacation in India,
this is the most common identity assumption that
has been made about me.
Enrique Englacious: This only happened once when I
performed violin in front of several dozen high school
students at a cultural night. The music or way I
played must have reminded them of the singer.
3. MUSIC
- The music videos are hilarious! Fun and interesting
to watch at first, but then each song sounded just
like the others with the same theme, same ideas, same
dance styles.
- All the Rickshaw drivers play Hinid-techno music.
- We got to hear one "jazz" band at a nice restaurant,
and this experience made me really appreciate the jazz
we have in America.
- Tablas, Sitars, and Mandolines: We still haven't taken
the opportunity to listen to live Classic Indian Music yet!
4. FOOD
- You ask for mild, you get spicy. At our hotel, to
get non-spicy food you must request "plain" or "bland."
- When the city goes to sleep and cools from the long
day, the street cooks turn up the heat on their
make-shift burners and stoves at small booths by the
train station.
- Dominos tastes like Dominos. However in India, Dominos
marks every pizza box with a sticker that says either
"veggie" or "non-veggie." Also, because seperate ovens
are used to cook vegitarian and meat pizzas, the Dominos
here are almost kosher (except for the cheese - which is
hard sometimes even in America to find kosher).
EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCES
1. WORK ETHIC
America's traditional full time job was 40 hours a
week in the 1990s (I believe the current full-time job
may be more than that now, but I'm not sure). In
India, I am told that a full work week is 80 hours!
2. NOMADIC LABORERS
Shiyla Naik, our mentor, shared with the term
"Nomadic Laborer" with us, and this gave me a whole
new perspective on overcrowding and poverty in the
city.
Yes, it's true that many that live in rural areas
are highly attracted to the urban lifestyle, flock to
the cities, and then get stuck or frustrated when
their pursuit of opportunity turns into a struggle to
just get by. But others, are villagers looking for
extra work to support their rural families. With no
intention of staying in the city, most of their
paycheck is sent back to their village families.
These nomadic laborers live in whatever shelter is
around, and don't bother to settle down, because they
are just following the construction sites and road
work that pays them more than rural work.
3. EDUCATION
It seems there is a much more visible separation
between the educated and working class here. A direct
example of this was in a train conversation I had with
a working class man and a college student. When I
asked the college student what he does, he answered
with confidence and direction, "I am a scholar of
engineering." When I asked the other man what he
does, his response was, "oh, I am just a worker." I
inquired further, "What kind of work?" He smiled, and
said, "I am just a worker."
(Sidenote: From a marketing perspective, it would be
much more important to advertise with much fewer
words, if any, as a much larger portion of the
population is illiterate).
::yawn:: gotta get some shut-eye, so that's all for now...
Take care,
Yoshi
of incredible sensations and experiences. Personally,
it's been amazing to watch SIFE grow over the past 4
years, and this global internship program seems like
the beginning of an amazing leap in our organizations
outreach and impact, that I am privileged to be part
of. Here are some thoughts on my experience in India thus far:
CULTURAL EXPERIENCE
1. The Wobble
The ins and outs of Indian mannerisms have been a fun
challenge to adjust to. Our team has coined the
"wobble" as a unique Indian gesture. The Wobble is a
rhythmic shake of the head moving the right ear
towards the right shoulder, and then moving the left
ear towards the left shoulder, back and forth. It's
not a nod, and it's not a shake. It's: "The Wobble."
In general, the wobble always means: Okay ("ach-ey" in
Hindi). Its intensity varies depending on its
implication:
One wobble = sure.
A few wobbles = ok.
many wobbles = of course!
At first, it was a very noticeable culture gab. As
initially the wobble can easily be interpreted as a
head shake meaning "NO." For example, when asking for
a taxi driver if he knew what direction to go, he
would answer "yes" with a wobble.
2. IDENTITY
Everywhere we go, our team is a spectacle. Traveling
alone, not as much (at least for myself). I have been
identified as a Muslim, Iranian, Israeli, and Enrique
Englacious.
A Muslim: because some assume that my Jewish knitted
cap ("Kippah" in Hebrew, "Yarmulke" [pronounced
Ya-mu-kah] in Yiddush) is misinterpreted as a Muslim
cap.
An Iranian: I believe because of my skin color, arm
hair, and facial expressions. This has happened more
often when Indians notice I am reading a book of
Hebrew text, and they don't know it's Hebrew.
Israeli: As many Israelis will vacation in India,
this is the most common identity assumption that
has been made about me.
Enrique Englacious: This only happened once when I
performed violin in front of several dozen high school
students at a cultural night. The music or way I
played must have reminded them of the singer.
3. MUSIC
- The music videos are hilarious! Fun and interesting
to watch at first, but then each song sounded just
like the others with the same theme, same ideas, same
dance styles.
- All the Rickshaw drivers play Hinid-techno music.
- We got to hear one "jazz" band at a nice restaurant,
and this experience made me really appreciate the jazz
we have in America.
- Tablas, Sitars, and Mandolines: We still haven't taken
the opportunity to listen to live Classic Indian Music yet!
4. FOOD
- You ask for mild, you get spicy. At our hotel, to
get non-spicy food you must request "plain" or "bland."
- When the city goes to sleep and cools from the long
day, the street cooks turn up the heat on their
make-shift burners and stoves at small booths by the
train station.
- Dominos tastes like Dominos. However in India, Dominos
marks every pizza box with a sticker that says either
"veggie" or "non-veggie." Also, because seperate ovens
are used to cook vegitarian and meat pizzas, the Dominos
here are almost kosher (except for the cheese - which is
hard sometimes even in America to find kosher).
EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCES
1. WORK ETHIC
America's traditional full time job was 40 hours a
week in the 1990s (I believe the current full-time job
may be more than that now, but I'm not sure). In
India, I am told that a full work week is 80 hours!
2. NOMADIC LABORERS
Shiyla Naik, our mentor, shared with the term
"Nomadic Laborer" with us, and this gave me a whole
new perspective on overcrowding and poverty in the
city.
Yes, it's true that many that live in rural areas
are highly attracted to the urban lifestyle, flock to
the cities, and then get stuck or frustrated when
their pursuit of opportunity turns into a struggle to
just get by. But others, are villagers looking for
extra work to support their rural families. With no
intention of staying in the city, most of their
paycheck is sent back to their village families.
These nomadic laborers live in whatever shelter is
around, and don't bother to settle down, because they
are just following the construction sites and road
work that pays them more than rural work.
3. EDUCATION
It seems there is a much more visible separation
between the educated and working class here. A direct
example of this was in a train conversation I had with
a working class man and a college student. When I
asked the college student what he does, he answered
with confidence and direction, "I am a scholar of
engineering." When I asked the other man what he
does, his response was, "oh, I am just a worker." I
inquired further, "What kind of work?" He smiled, and
said, "I am just a worker."
(Sidenote: From a marketing perspective, it would be
much more important to advertise with much fewer
words, if any, as a much larger portion of the
population is illiterate).
::yawn:: gotta get some shut-eye, so that's all for now...
Take care,
Yoshi
Monday, February 14, 2005
a crevice on the bridge
On the train at night. Lucky to miss rush hour, and avoid being packed as tight as sardine’s in a sealed, strong smelling, aluminum can. Instead, I’m watching a Hindi DVD on my laptop. Sitting on the cushion seats of “1st class,” enjoying the distinct Hollywood inspired foreign flick.
Leaving the train with a good feeling. Glad to be in India. Glad to be in a position to really make a difference.
Getting off the train. Glad to be heading back to my apartment to finish up some work for tomorrow’s class.
Walking up the station stairwell. Holding my head high, thinking of the best – knowing everything will be alright. Hearing some chanting. Knowing that poverty is a personal struggle and can be overcome with personal conviction, hope, and the help of good people.
Shock. Stumble. Devastation. A man sprawled in the middle of the walkway. One leg missing, the other twisted behind his back. A stump for one arm, as the other twitched. Grasping the coins dropped by his face that lay pressed against the cement.
I walk past this man a few times a week. Most of the time, there are too many people surrounding me to even notice he was there. Like a dented crevice on a bridge. An obstacle to avoid tripping. Not a man, but a suffering animal straining through each thin heart beat.
Feeling depressed. Must move on. Must struggle to block out the images that at one time were only imagined in my mind, and now so real, I can only wish it was fiction again. Must not get stuck at the crevice on a bridge. Must move on to make a difference.
Scurried through the street shops. Bought a bottle of water for 8 rupees (20 cents). Refreshing serenity. Thankfully to have the ability of mobility.
Leaving the train with a good feeling. Glad to be in India. Glad to be in a position to really make a difference.
Getting off the train. Glad to be heading back to my apartment to finish up some work for tomorrow’s class.
Walking up the station stairwell. Holding my head high, thinking of the best – knowing everything will be alright. Hearing some chanting. Knowing that poverty is a personal struggle and can be overcome with personal conviction, hope, and the help of good people.
Shock. Stumble. Devastation. A man sprawled in the middle of the walkway. One leg missing, the other twisted behind his back. A stump for one arm, as the other twitched. Grasping the coins dropped by his face that lay pressed against the cement.
I walk past this man a few times a week. Most of the time, there are too many people surrounding me to even notice he was there. Like a dented crevice on a bridge. An obstacle to avoid tripping. Not a man, but a suffering animal straining through each thin heart beat.
Feeling depressed. Must move on. Must struggle to block out the images that at one time were only imagined in my mind, and now so real, I can only wish it was fiction again. Must not get stuck at the crevice on a bridge. Must move on to make a difference.
Scurried through the street shops. Bought a bottle of water for 8 rupees (20 cents). Refreshing serenity. Thankfully to have the ability of mobility.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
"In a Pickle"
All I would like is a Dill Pickle. If you walk into a street store and ask for pickles, they will tell you, "of course we have pickles! We have pickled onion, pickled tomatoe, pickeled vadu, pickeled mango..."
"But what about DILL Pickles?"
"Dill? What's that?"
"AMERICAN Pickle??"
"ah! no, no!"
It appears that in India, "pickle" basically is any spice that is pickeled in a jar. All spicy of course. A "United States" pickle is not a common thing...
All I would like is a Dill Pickle. lol.
"But what about DILL Pickles?"
"Dill? What's that?"
"AMERICAN Pickle??"
"ah! no, no!"
It appears that in India, "pickle" basically is any spice that is pickeled in a jar. All spicy of course. A "United States" pickle is not a common thing...
All I would like is a Dill Pickle. lol.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Curfew
Business hours are taken seriously here in Anderi East, Mumbai. It's almost midnight, and the cops are in the neighborhood this evening, patrolling the area to be sure business are closed before the Midnight curfew.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Project(s) Outline
2-3 days each week I will be working with Mrs Shaila Naik, one of the leaders in entrepreneurship education in India. She has developing a curriculum for enterprise education for STD 5th & 6th.’(grades 5 and 6). I will be part of a team trained to deliver these entrepreneurship training/activities to young students in various schools in Mumbai.
The other days in the week, I will be serving as a SIFE program coordinator working under the direction of the SIFE India Country Director. New SIFE Teams are being recruited and I will provide services similar to those being provided by the SIFE Program Directors in the USA, in terms of helping these Teams better understand SIFE, develop project ideas, prepare for competition, etc.
I will be active (sharing ideas, asking questions, deliberate points) to participants in 4 cultural forums and 4 business forums. The cultural forums will be held at different SIFE institutions and focus on various aspects of the Indian and US culture, with additional emphasis on the Indian culture. The business forums will be held at various companies (or meeting facility) and will include business leaders from India. Each forum will address one of the SIFE pillars (ethics, market economics, etc) and a business exec will make the presentation. These presentations will be followed by open discussion.
I will participate in a few SIFE Team projects, 1 of which may be out of Mumbai. This will be an opportunity for me to observe the SIFE India Team(s) in action and to participate in the project delivery.
I will also participate in various social activities and tourism activities, including a visit to Lonavala and Matheran parks as well as welcome and good-bye receptions.
I will work in a Team with the other Global Interns (those going to Malaysia, and the Asians coming to the USA) to develop a Global Internship Handbook. The final product will be printed and distributed extensively around the world. This document will record my internship experiences and highlights that myself and the other participants have experienced.
I will be part of the organizing team and also lead a forum on this Internship during the SIFE World Cup in October (in Toronto). This forum will include all the US interns as well as students from around the world attending the World Cup. The format and agenda for this forum will be partly decided by myself and the other interns.
The other days in the week, I will be serving as a SIFE program coordinator working under the direction of the SIFE India Country Director. New SIFE Teams are being recruited and I will provide services similar to those being provided by the SIFE Program Directors in the USA, in terms of helping these Teams better understand SIFE, develop project ideas, prepare for competition, etc.
I will be active (sharing ideas, asking questions, deliberate points) to participants in 4 cultural forums and 4 business forums. The cultural forums will be held at different SIFE institutions and focus on various aspects of the Indian and US culture, with additional emphasis on the Indian culture. The business forums will be held at various companies (or meeting facility) and will include business leaders from India. Each forum will address one of the SIFE pillars (ethics, market economics, etc) and a business exec will make the presentation. These presentations will be followed by open discussion.
I will participate in a few SIFE Team projects, 1 of which may be out of Mumbai. This will be an opportunity for me to observe the SIFE India Team(s) in action and to participate in the project delivery.
I will also participate in various social activities and tourism activities, including a visit to Lonavala and Matheran parks as well as welcome and good-bye receptions.
I will work in a Team with the other Global Interns (those going to Malaysia, and the Asians coming to the USA) to develop a Global Internship Handbook. The final product will be printed and distributed extensively around the world. This document will record my internship experiences and highlights that myself and the other participants have experienced.
I will be part of the organizing team and also lead a forum on this Internship during the SIFE World Cup in October (in Toronto). This forum will include all the US interns as well as students from around the world attending the World Cup. The format and agenda for this forum will be partly decided by myself and the other interns.
The Luxeries of Life
Things which you may not realize how nice they are to have until they’re gone…
- Potable (drinkable) Tap Water
- Reliable electricity
- Eating fruit without worrying about Hepatitis E outbreaks
- Not worrying about hosting Malaria after getting bit by a mosquito
- Running hot water
- Showering and brushing your teeth with potable water
- Traffic lights and road signs
- People that speak the same language you do
- Potable (drinkable) Tap Water
- Reliable electricity
- Eating fruit without worrying about Hepatitis E outbreaks
- Not worrying about hosting Malaria after getting bit by a mosquito
- Running hot water
- Showering and brushing your teeth with potable water
- Traffic lights and road signs
- People that speak the same language you do
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Rickshaws & Trains
My first time traveling into the city; an experience; at least an hour transit from our residence to Central Mumbai (20 minute Taxi ride > 45 minute Train ride > 10-30 minute Taxi/walk). I was hoping to make it to the Chabbad House (Jewish outreach group with locations all around the world) located downtown, before Shabbat (The Jewish Day of Rest. Begins every week at sunset Friday night, and continues through sunset Saturday evening). The taxi ride to the train station was even more thrilling than our first cab ride from the airport! With dozens of horns honking, pedestrians walking freely between traffic, no lanes, and no rules (at least in Mumbai)-- this experience definitely gets one’s adrenalin flowin’
Tanya was just as excited to experience a cab ride, so she tagged along for just the first stretch of my journey, from the hotel to the train station, and then would head back to our residence. The taxi cab we rode in is called a “Rickshaw.” Unlike a 4-door normal taxi cab, Rickshaw’s are mini-autos with a fabric top and no doors. From the back, they look like horse carriages. The front seat is for the driver, who has a motorcycle style steering wheel. The back seat fits 3 average Americans comfortably or a whole family of Indians. It is unbelievable how many small corners the Rickshaw fits through. When traffic flows no faster than 30 kph (kilometers-per-hour), I didn’t feel that unsafe.
We arrived at the train station. We tried explaining to the cab driver that he should drive Tonia back to the residence; however, he did not understand us. A man approached the cab to help. He spoke little English, but not enough to really help us communicate with the driver.
Another man approached our Rickshaw.
Three more men surrounded the taxi.
All of them just curious to see what was going on. Though we were only asking for directions, we were a spectacle and unfamiliar presence to those around us.
Finally, a woman emerged from the crowd who spoke English. She translated our question to the driver, and then she was kind enough to escort me all the way to the train ticketing booth and gave me directions on which platform to take, and how to identify my train. Our supervisor wasn’t kidding when he said, “if you ask for help, they will either say ‘I’m sorry, I’m too busy;’ or, they will personally make sure that you get to where you need to go.” I bought my ticket and headed for the train platform.
As the train approached, men began jumping off the train and onto the platform while it was still going 10 kph! Other men would rush on board even before the train stopped (I’m guessing they were trying to find an empty seat on the full train). They acted like salmon fighting an upstream current. Some of them jumped out at me, bounced off my body, and were repelled back to the platform. As the fish (men) were prodding against the cattle car (train).
I saw there was a fairly empty cabin, and naturally, walked on board where I didn’t have to fight to stay on the train. Two other men also boarded the car I was on, and began mumbling at me and waving their arms. I tried asking them if I had gotten on the train headed towards town, and they just continued to mumble and wave their arms at me. Not until a few minutes later, did I realize that they were both deaf. I find it kind of ironic that without knowing it, I found myself riding on the “Handicap cabin” on my first trip into downtown Mumbai; quite ironic.
Tanya was just as excited to experience a cab ride, so she tagged along for just the first stretch of my journey, from the hotel to the train station, and then would head back to our residence. The taxi cab we rode in is called a “Rickshaw.” Unlike a 4-door normal taxi cab, Rickshaw’s are mini-autos with a fabric top and no doors. From the back, they look like horse carriages. The front seat is for the driver, who has a motorcycle style steering wheel. The back seat fits 3 average Americans comfortably or a whole family of Indians. It is unbelievable how many small corners the Rickshaw fits through. When traffic flows no faster than 30 kph (kilometers-per-hour), I didn’t feel that unsafe.
We arrived at the train station. We tried explaining to the cab driver that he should drive Tonia back to the residence; however, he did not understand us. A man approached the cab to help. He spoke little English, but not enough to really help us communicate with the driver.
Another man approached our Rickshaw.
Three more men surrounded the taxi.
All of them just curious to see what was going on. Though we were only asking for directions, we were a spectacle and unfamiliar presence to those around us.
Finally, a woman emerged from the crowd who spoke English. She translated our question to the driver, and then she was kind enough to escort me all the way to the train ticketing booth and gave me directions on which platform to take, and how to identify my train. Our supervisor wasn’t kidding when he said, “if you ask for help, they will either say ‘I’m sorry, I’m too busy;’ or, they will personally make sure that you get to where you need to go.” I bought my ticket and headed for the train platform.
As the train approached, men began jumping off the train and onto the platform while it was still going 10 kph! Other men would rush on board even before the train stopped (I’m guessing they were trying to find an empty seat on the full train). They acted like salmon fighting an upstream current. Some of them jumped out at me, bounced off my body, and were repelled back to the platform. As the fish (men) were prodding against the cattle car (train).
I saw there was a fairly empty cabin, and naturally, walked on board where I didn’t have to fight to stay on the train. Two other men also boarded the car I was on, and began mumbling at me and waving their arms. I tried asking them if I had gotten on the train headed towards town, and they just continued to mumble and wave their arms at me. Not until a few minutes later, did I realize that they were both deaf. I find it kind of ironic that without knowing it, I found myself riding on the “Handicap cabin” on my first trip into downtown Mumbai; quite ironic.
Tasty Bites
Trying out the poultry at the hotel, and so far so good. Didn’t know if I didn’t want spicy food I had to ask for “bland.” I just asked for the “mild” spicy Garlic & Sauce Chicken… HOOOOOT!! Wow, I can’t imagine what “spicy” might really mean here.
At our residence, for 80 Rupees ($2) you can get a descent portion meal (usually with a wide variety of sauces to add to your dish) which includes at-your-door service. Despite the notion that Indian portions are much smaller, you do get a lot of food for the amount you pay. (Sidenote: As it is disrespectful to not finish what is served to you, most of what others cannot eat, I will finish. I've been nicknamed the groups "Human garbage disposal." I see it as a great opportunity for me to try more flavors of Indian curry). My favorite so far is the spicy garlic sauce chicken with a side of Indian bread called Rita, and stuffed potatoes dipped in date sauce.
So far, no incidents of getting sick from the foods. Only an adjustment to all the new flavors. (Papaya pills help immensly with digestion). There's a type of "spicy" here that I can't quite describe: It's not "hot" spicy. It's not "steamy" spicy.. but more of a "sharp" spicy. In any case, it's all tasty.
At our residence, for 80 Rupees ($2) you can get a descent portion meal (usually with a wide variety of sauces to add to your dish) which includes at-your-door service. Despite the notion that Indian portions are much smaller, you do get a lot of food for the amount you pay. (Sidenote: As it is disrespectful to not finish what is served to you, most of what others cannot eat, I will finish. I've been nicknamed the groups "Human garbage disposal." I see it as a great opportunity for me to try more flavors of Indian curry). My favorite so far is the spicy garlic sauce chicken with a side of Indian bread called Rita, and stuffed potatoes dipped in date sauce.
So far, no incidents of getting sick from the foods. Only an adjustment to all the new flavors. (Papaya pills help immensly with digestion). There's a type of "spicy" here that I can't quite describe: It's not "hot" spicy. It's not "steamy" spicy.. but more of a "sharp" spicy. In any case, it's all tasty.
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