"AMRICANIZE" Me

The first day I braved into venturing streets of Newark, I was a scared chicken thrown to battle. I was armed with a winter coat purchased in India, my laptop and a map. The day was windy, cold and cloudy. My companions had all abandoned me for the cozy warmth of their blankets in their heated houses. But I had a battle to be waged against the unknown (Background: I was born and brought up in a city in India that had wild bears walking the streets as if they were domestic dogs. There were only 3 reported accidents in the 18 years I lived there, but no one wanted to become a statistic, so the humans moved in packs and avoided the less travelled roads unless they were in a closed vehicle. I lived elsewhere in the country for the next 7 years of my life, but the thought of going out in an unknown place always reminded me of the day I came face to face with a bear and screamed so loud that the bear ran away.

If you are wondering why didn’t we barricade our city against the bears, let me tell you we did that as a trial once. Then people missed the bears and on public demand the barricades were removed). So here I was; fighting against the chilly wind and losing. I had tears in my eyes from raising my head to look for landmarks. Against all odds I reached the campus, took cover in the first building in sight and opened the map. My inability to read a map rose like an enemy and laughed like Mogambo (Background: Mogambo is a famous villain from an Indian movie. His laugh is memorably evil). The map made no sense to me (Background: In India if you are searching for a location, you stop a street vendor and ask for directions. I would have done the same here, but I was too shy to interrupt people and ask questions which I will have to repeat twice because of my Indian accent). But since I had to move on, I mustered all my strength, fortified my body with an extra scarf, armed myself with the map and charged against the wind.

The wicked wind tore the map into two pieces and one of the pieces flew away. I ran to catch it and nearly ran into a biker. Furiously I asked him, Couldn’t you ring the bell? He looked blankly at me and it was then I noticed that his bike didn’t have a bell, or a stand. Surprised, I wondered why would someone buy a bike that was missing parts. I apologized to the biker and then remembered to be astonished that he was biking in this weather. On comparing his and my attire, I laughed out loud (I learned later that my coat was best suited for early fall, my shirt too thin, my shoes should have been in a closed closet before the first snow, the socks and scarves needed to be of wool and gloves were absolutely necessary). I shook my head and looked again at the map, decided that it was not going to get me anywhere and started walking until I reached a zebra crossing (cross walk, if you prefer).

Next demon: traffic rules (Background: In India, you look left, you look right and if you see a clear road for 5 seconds, you cross. Drivers back home are ready for spontaneous pedestrians). A car stopped and both of us waited for the other to go first. Finally he opened his window and told me to cross PLEASE. By the time I reached the library I got honked three times.

Minutes later it started snowing. Mind you this is the first time I had seen snow. I was openly fascinated. The battle had turned into enjoyment now. I walked on without direction and enjoyed the sight. Without knowing how, I reached my destination. Youhooooo! I WON the war!

I reached the office that the department assigned to me the previous day. The following conversation struck between a fellow graduate student and me.

She: “Are the electricians done with the work in the hallway?”

Me: “I don’t know. I walked here straight from the building main door. Where is this hallway?”

She: (Strange look) “Didn’t you just walk in through that door?”

Me: (Weird look) “I did.”

She: “Is there someone working outside the door?”

Me: “No.”

She: “What did you call the region outside the door?”

Me: “Corridor.”

She: LOL

Me: (What?)

She: “In America, we call it hallway.”

Me: “Oh!” (Nod)

She: LOL

Me: “What did I do now?”

She: “You did the Indian nod.”

Me: (Surprised) “There is an Indian nod?”

She: (Still laughing) “Yup. See this!” (Opens a Youtube video for Indian nod)

Me: (Head shake) “I see it. What is the American nod?”

She: (Nods and leaves)

At lunchtime, I headed out to Main Street. Again the war began. I walked backwards to avoid the brutal wind and entered the first restaurant. The lady behind the counter asked me 5 questions regarding my order after I selected it. I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know there were so many ways to make a cappuccino. Really, all you needed to do is press a button on the coffee machine!

By the time I returned home that night (got a ride on the way back), I realized I was in a different country. Since then I have adjusted to the cold, the wind, the food, the map and the American English. Now when I go back to India for a vacation, I am surprised that when I order a lunch in a restaurant, the waiter quietly takes the order and brings back hot piping food exactly the way I want (or not!).

Summer, why thou pest me!!!

There is something about summer, maybe the weather all sunny or the days too long, or the holiday season or everyone else’s energy due to the above-mentioned facts, something… But there is some reason summer is too stressful. See, summer being all activity time and me being all year round lazy type we do not gel together!!!

Every summer I can remember back to my childhood, I think I have irritated my parents with the same complaint. “I have nothing to do, I am bored, I want to go here and there, do this and that!” It is not until now that I realize I was too lazy to pick up a hobby and go with it for the entire summer. I did not ever want to take the effort to learn something new unless, of course, my sister was doing it and I wanted to be a part of it. That is how I learnt sewing, embroidery, cooking, cleaning house, painting, and various forms of painting. (Why didn’t you learn swimming Nani, it would have made my life so easier now.) Don’t get me wrong; I never learnt anything so as to master the art. I just learnt because my sister was engaged in it and I didn’t want to feel all left out. What can I say? I am a free loader on activities. I bet money, if this summer I were at home, I would be solving math problems even though I am doing my PhD in biology just because my sister is studying for her GMAT. The only thing I have ever done on my own without encouragement is read, though I have a feeling that was also brought about by my sister and me reading Aesop’s fables together. Don’t expect me to be thankful to her though, she learnt everything all right in spite of me being a bug at her side all through the summer and me, I learnt just enough to bug her.

That gives me two insights to myself. One, I am competitive. Well, I guess everybody who has spent a decent minute with me knows that, nothing new there. Second, I was a bug in my previous life. There is a huge possibility of it being true.

However, I went off topic. The fact is this is yet another summer. And most of it is already past me. I have the responsibility to make the rest of the summer memorable and I have a list of things planned to do. Though I highly doubt I will accomplish anything, the fact that I have a list is an improvement over my previous self. At least this time I forced my brain to think and my finger to type the list. On another related thought, why aren’t you here Nani? I could have just followed you around. Life would be so simpler.

Tribute to a departed soul

I lost both my paternal and maternal grandmothers this year. I wasn’t able to attend their last rites as I am pursuing my ambition to have a doctorate degree far away from home and family. I shed some tears and tried observing the mourning as much as I could while still preparing for my exams and conference. I want to believe both my grandmothers would understand.

In spite of this, why is that the death of a friend with whom I had lost contact years ago pains me more? It has been more than 5 months since his death and every time I see a picture or a reminder of his existence I feel my eyes tearing up. Ours was a casual friendship of a sort where we would hang out with other friends. I lost touch with him after 2 months of changing my location and hadn’t given him a thought until I heard from mutual friends about his accident. I did not know him and did not want to know too. If he were alive I wouldn’t spare him a thought. But suddenly I see his name on my facebook birthday’s page and I am surprised his facebook account is still active. I go to his page and see that his friends and family has continued posting on his page remembering him.

And I think, how would he remember me now if he could. Probably as the girl who talked him into wearing a sweater in the middle of a Delhi winter. I remember him as a gadget fanatic guy who had craze for bikes, who could be stubborn at points you couldn’t even bother to deal with and generally a guy with a smile. He used to say, I like hanging out with you guys, no matter the pain of standing near your seats from Agra to Delhi.

I am sorry for myself. I lost an opportunity to have a good friend. I am glad your family and friends are keeping your memory alive and keep reminding me that everything in life is transient.