Exposures that the boys are having…all good things

When the opportunity came up, Amnon and I decided that taking an assignment in India for a year would be a good thing for us, and also good exposure for whichever boys opted to join us. We knew that Adam would be joining us, and that he would be at an excellent high school in New Delhi, the American Embassy School. We knew he would come into contact with a rich and varied set of international students.

Gradually the other boys opted to join us as well, with Jordan and Jesse coming in September and Tomy scheduled to join us in a couple of days. They are all taking a “pause” on life - - gap years, gap semesters, etc. While I wouldn’t dictate how they would spend their time, I hoped it would be enriching and maybe even life-changing.

Amnon and I have reflected on how it all seems to be panning out, so far, and it is wonderful. The kids are happy. They spend hours together, hours talking to each other, which is priceless. They have toured a number of sites in Delhi and beyond. Adam began learning martial arts and doing body building, which were very affordable options here. (He sought out and hired a former “Mr. India” as his personal trainer.) Jesse has gotten a yoga instructor, and is learning guitar. Jordan has gotten interested in local bands, and in Indian music styles, and is taking dance classes. They did a stint of teaching English to kids in a slum school. Adam is planning to take Hindi classes within the next few weeks.

I think they will reflect on this as an important and meaningful year in their lives, as well as an enjoyable one. I couldn’t ask for more.

The people we have met – Exceptionally kind and generous

We were chatting around breakfast today about some of the people that we have met here; even people that we don’t know all that well. And we all acknowledged that they have been uniformly kind and generous. (Our only gripe has been with rickshaw and taxi drivers, who have consistently tried to scam us….described in earlier blog posts.)

There is one friend we had gotten together with a couple of times when we first arrived in India. When Adam and I were in the hospital in the summer, there was some glitch with recognition of our international health insurance, and the hospital would not “release” us until payment had been made. They also didn’t take American Express. (Note that the entire bill for two of us in hospital for 5 days or so was only about $2000, in a private hospital.) While Amnon was trying to resolve payment through our Cigna insurance, this friend heard that we were still in the hospital. Without telling us, he left work and came to the hospital, stopping at an ATM to take out $2000 along the way. By the time he arrived, the insurance issue had been resolved, but this struck us as an exceptionally, unusually generous gesture.

When Adam and I were in the hospital, my colleagues at work stopped by to see us almost daily, just to see how we were. I had only been at work for a couple of weeks at this time, so we were really just acquaintances…I thought this was a lovely gesture on their part.

We were (as mentioned in earlier posts) looking to buy a van for weeks and weeks. An acquaintance from an electronics store where Amnon had made purchases and had had some repairs done heard about this. He volunteered to lend Amnon his car for a few days to facilitate our car search (while *he* traveled on his motorcycle, instead.)

Jordan, Adam, and Jesse went to a local club for “open mike” night. As it turned out, open mike was the following weekend, and there was actually a professional band playing that night. When the band realized that that boys had intended to play in the open mike, they offered instead to have the boys come up and play a few numbers using their equipment, set up on stage. The boys talked over breakfast about how bands in the US would be much more protective of their equipment, which is an interesting conundrum, since replacing equipment in the US is probably less financially daunting than it is for an Indian band.

Access to drugs

We had a couple of prescription drugs that I knew we would need to refill while in India, and I wasn’t sure of the process. Do I need a script from a doctor? Would they simply refill on the basis of the empty vials from CVS Pharmacy, that referred to the medication and doctor’s name?

We went to refill our first prescription a few weeks ago. And the process was….simple. The hardest part was figuring out the generic name for a brand name medication. No fuss, no muss, no insurance, no questions asked. The total cost was something like $5.00.

I asked whether they “recognized” prescriptions that were on a vial from a US pharmacy. It turns out that you don’t need a vial, or the (expired) prescription approved by a doctor. You could, in fact, google your symptoms, determine what meds you *think* you need, and go in to the pharmacy (called “chemist” here) and purchase. Ritalin, Codeine, whatever.

I asked how they manage to avoid abuse and over-use. The pharmacist said that they don’t dispense to everyone; if it is a sensitive substance and they see that you are over-purchasing, they might deny you. Well, THAT must work pretty well….there are 4 “Chemists” in our little local market; the “abuser” can just rotate.

I remember that Amnon needed a refill for allergy medication, back in the US. This was medication that he had been taking for years. When he went to refill the prescription at one point, the pharmacist said that he needed approval from the doctor. Amnon called the allergist, who said that he hadn’t seen Amnon in 6 months and he would not approve without a visit.

Our cynical side can conclude that this is all just a scam; ensuring that doctors are visited and that doctor’s fees are paid. Or, perhaps that level of “control” over dispensing medication is really important, to avoid abuse and misuse.

One could do the controlled experiment here…. When consumers can easily and (relatively) inexpensively walk into a pharmacy and purchase medications of their choice, is there more misuse? Do people purchase and take the wrong medications? Do people take more than they should, because it’s available? Or can you trust people to regulate themselves?

Entertaining in India

With our lovely table that seats 12, and recent visitors from Israel and the US, we are more and more likely to have sumptuous meals with friends and family. Those that know us know that we love to entertain. But the tone and tenor changes in a setting where you have a fulltime (and phenomenal) chef and housekeeper. The meals have been exquisite; the cuisine of your choice. Amnon, a wonderful chef in his own right, gives tips and advice and recipes so that Chandana can replicate Shabbat morning Iraqi breakfasts, and other specialties that we like that would not otherwise be in her repertoire.

For me, a big part of entertaining is the preparation. I plan what to make, I shop, I cook, and I clean for days. For major events (Passover seders; Thanksgiving) Amnon and I can be up till 3:00 am with final preparations. I get cranky and nervous before the event (Will we be done in time? Will the kitchen be clean? Did we prepare enough?)

The preparation for these events is, for me, a “gift” that we give to our honored guests. I remember reading somewhere (Emily Post?) that a gift needs to reflect “expenditure” on the part of the giver. If it is an expensive gift, then it reflects a lot of work you have done or sacrifices you have made to provide that gift. Alternatively, it can be a gift that you spent a lot of time on, and the sacrifice of your time is the gift to the recipient.

Now, in India, we can invite guests on any weeknight, and Chandana will prepare as many courses as we choose. The meal is delicious – I am sure in many instances better than anything that I have ever prepared. But it makes the dynamic of entertaining weird for me, since it is no longer a gift of my time and my efforts to my guests. I guess I need to change the lens and see this as inviting our guests to a restaurant, instead of our home. (Though inviting guests to a restaurant in NY will likely reflect significant financial expenditure, and therefore also meet the “gift” criterion….which is not the case now for our maid-cooked-home meals….)

I spoke to an American friend about how Indian homemakers take pride in providing meals for their guests, when they have not actually toiled themselves. She said that one Indian woman she knew would take pride anyway, saying: “Do you like this dish? It’s my recipe; I taught the maid how to prepare it.”

The ongoing discussion about allocation of labor

Our home life here with fulltime maid assistance is….easy. Every day, Chandana asks what we want her to prepare for dinner; nothing is too exotic or out of reach. Jordan goes through Thai recipe books, identifies something interesting, and gets Sarat (our driver and Chandana’s husband) to assist in translation to Hindi. Chandana derives great joy over our “oohs” and “aahs” for the things she prepares, it is clearly fundamental to her pride and job satisfaction. Dinner is cleared, dishes are washed and put away - -all by Chandana.

I notice that with all the help we receive, our family gets even less likely to do the minor things that should be under our control….putting the tops back on peanut butter jars; returning food to the refrigerator when Chandana isn’t here.

There are frequent discussions with the boys about what we should or should not be doing. I don’t think we will reach consensus, but it is good to just have the conversations and open our minds to these issues.

Here is my view on household help, which I have always had through the years as a working mom with our very dear Cynthia as our babysitter, housekeeper, and my right hand. There was nothing that Cynthia would do that I wouldn’t do. If we were home at the same time – say, preparing for Thanksgiving - then we worked as a team. One washed, one dried; one chopped, one cooked; etc. Household help was there to assist when the amount of work required exceeded the time available, and so extra hands were needed. Household help was there when I had to work and so someone else prepared fresh meals for the family. Household help was there because I was driving two kids to elementary school while another kid needed to be brought to nursery school and another was still a baby at home. And so on. But there was never a sense in my head that “this is my work; that is your work.”

Fast forward to India. Maids here have a much deeper sense of “I will take care of everything, ma’am.” Since the kids are now big, I really don’t need as much help. I am not taking care of a crying baby while someone else handles meal preparation. In fact, I am sitting at my computer typing blog entries while someone else does the dishes. So really, a lot of the help that we have is indulgence. (And it is cheap enough here to indulge in these indulgences.) At home, I would rarely be sitting around the house doing crossword puzzles while someone else cleaned the house or prepared food, but that in fact is what happens here. (Since the maid is in the house for some 50+ hours a week, she will inevitably see you during moments of sloth and leisure - - reading books, going outside to exercise, watching a movie…)

I think we need to still do some *basic* things, like clear the table after we eat. Chandana is happy to do this for us, and my boys are happy to allow her to. Perhaps I feel like it gives more honor to her work to show her that none of it is beneath us.

My boys think that I am sending her strange signals if I get up and start assuming what she sees as her job responsibilities. She takes pride in this work, and I am depriving her of some of this; perhaps even suggesting that she isn’t fast enough or competent enough.

And of course, everyone can short circuit any discussion by simply saying “that isn’t how it is done here; you are imposing your western values on this society and it just doesn’t work….you will create a false set of expectations for any future job she gets…” etc. etc.

Jordan says that I have a fundamental problem in that I probably, at my core, feel guilty about having the luxury of someone doing all this work around us, and she is not living a life that is as comfortable as ours is. And so I try to compensate by working alongside her, and relieving her of some of her labors, and demonstrating by doing the same stuff that none of it is beneath us. (Chandana is not, I am certain, at all sensitive to any of these nuances - - she is happy to work for expats, happy to be in our house, happy with our family that speaks to her with respect.)

But by compensating for *my* guilt, they say, I can make it worse for everyone else in the household, since everyone else is perfectly happy having someone pick up things that they drop and clear the table for them after they eat. But I will end up setting a different job standard, and Chandana will assume that this isn’t one of the roles we expect from her. And so I need to get up and leave the table uncleared, for the good of the rest.

I muse about why it is different in your own house (for example) as opposed to being on the outside. I am not so guilt-ridden that I get up and help the waiter clear the table in a restaurant; so why is it different in one’s own house? But somehow, it feels different…maybe it’s just decades of conditioning.

The arrival of our table....seats 12, comfortably

 
 
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The elusive table that I have described in earlier posts was delivered on December 2nd. We had placed the order in September. There were a series of mishaps and delays; carpenters falling ill with mosquito-borne illnesses, Moslem holidays that delayed work, inability to find linseed oil, difficulty in sanding the wood to Amnon’s specs, and who-knows-what-else. It was definitely starting to feel mythical; the table that we would talk about that would never arrive. Part of the problem was that Amnon had designed aspects of it himself, and so the structure was not “routine” for the workers and perhaps they didn’t know what they had gotten themselves into when they first agreed to construct it. But now we had a new deadline for them; the arrival of Amnon’s brother and sister-in-law for Chanukah, and we wanted to be able to enjoy festive family meals on our lovely table-to-be; not on the assorted card tables we had been draping with table cloths. Amnon gave them a strict deadline of Thursday night, as David and Malka were scheduled to arrive at 4:00 am Friday morning. And amazingly, by 11:30 p.m., the various carpenters arrived and all the pieces were put in place. Our mythical unicorn of a table and 12 chairs had arrived, and it was as beautiful as Amnon had designed it to be. It has the shape of a Star of David under the glass top. I told my brother-in-law we should have invited them months earlier, since they were the catalyst for final product! Malka shared her own secret for getting stuff done at home….she invites guests once a month, and everything that has been stored up on “to do” lists gets completed the day before.

Winter Break and Christmas

Winter break has brought a number of treats and guests. Jesse’s girlfriend Alexis has come here, along with Adam’s dear friend and a “fifth Basson boy,” Eero. I have sorely missed having a houseful chock-a-block with the boys’ friends every night of the week, so this is a treat for me as well as for the kids. The boys have mapped out a tourist agenda for New Delhi and the environs. Eero appears to be similar to me in his touring tastes…he would rather see the innards of how people live here, where they shop, where they play, instead of the standard tourist attractions. I trust that they will have time to do both.

Today is Christmas day. Surprisingly, India has a lot of Christmas-related celebrations, and malls are decked out with Christmas decorations. IBM Research India has a tree in the lobby. I think that only 2% of the country is Christian, and I don’t know if anyone at IBM Research is. But I think that this is a culture that likes holidays, and Christmas has a lot of pomp that appeals to the populace. I figure that with the large number of gods already worshipped, there is not a lot of resistance to adding yet one more. Also, this is a culture which is unusually tolerant of other religions and other religious practices. I have read that a small number of Jews have lived in southern India for a couple of thousand years, and have never experienced anti-Semitism. (That is for me the litmus test of religious tolerance….the Jews have never been anywhere but Israel for prolonged amounts of time without some religious persecution.)

The boys are planning the standard Jewish Christmas activities for tonight….a movie, and Chinese food. This year, though, the movie will be Bollywood.

Chanukah in Delhi

We had the pleasure of a visit from Amnon’s brother and sister-in-law from Israel, David and Malka, over Chanukah. While they travel overseas a lot, India had not been high on their list of places to go. They opted to come this year in order to spend time with our family. It was a treat for all of us. Malka and I did morning walks on the paths near our house. (My athletic sister-in-law Malka continuing for an additional few miles after I went back upstairs to get ready for work.) We did a treat day in a spa, with facials and pedicures. We spent a weekend traveling to Jaipur in the state of Rajasthan. (A trip that should be a 5 hour drive; but with constant and unpredictable and insufficient alternate routes, it took us 7 hours or so to get back. Thankfully with a rented van and driver; we were able to doze. Except for the jolts, since the driver was a bit of a maniac.) We had magnificent meals prepared by Chandana, including the traditional Iraqi Shabbat morning brunches that Amnon has taught her to prepare. (fried eggplant, eggs hardboiled for several hours, boiled potatos, fresh pita, Israeli salad, mango chutney) Chandana also dressed Malka and me in her saris, for pictures. Photos included.
 
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Pictures - -open mike night; all dressed up on the way to a wedding, and Kimbo!

 Jordan and Adam playing at an "open mike" in New Delhi
 The newest addition to the Basson family - - Kimbo!
 The Basson men, before going to a wedding

Pictures -- Cows, Wedding, the Basson Boys





Pictures of: 
Cows trying to get into the pathway behind our apartment. (I wondered why they make the entrances to parks difficult to get into.....now I know.)

Bride and groom at a wedding we attended. (The American groom, Josh, probably found the only eligible Jewish girl in New Delhi!)

The Basson boys, at the wedding.



Basson boys before the wedding...and with our new puppy!





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How to sell a used car with class

We bought a used car on Sunday. On Monday night, the car wouldn’t start. Amnon was away from home (with the now-not-starting-car) doing some errands at the time. He contacted the guy that sold him the car to see if he could get some insights about what might be wrong.

The guy was profusely apologetic, and even embarrassed. He said he had never experienced a problem like this, He insisted on coming over to where Amnon was “stuck,” and contacting his own mechanic to have a look at it. When they couldn’t get it started that same evening, he drove Amnon home. He said that he would take work leave the next day to make sure that he returned the car in working condition to Amnon, and at his own expense.

What a “mensch,” as they say in Yiddish…a real gentleman. I don’t think people typically experience that level of “customer service” in used car sales from a private individual, where he would have been within his rights to say “I sold it to you as is."We are touched, and impressed, and I hope we will emulate such behaviors if we are ever in the same position, as the “seller.”

Clothes make the woman

 


Probably all cultures have hierarchies and class differences. We certainly have them in the US. India has more profound distinctions, predicated on caste, education, where you come from in the country. These are distinctions that I can’t even begin to understand, and I certainly can’t “identify.” It is sort of liberating. Maybe we should shuffle populations more regularly, just to confuse the biases and ultimately eliminate them! People from here can probably judge class and caste by differences in clothing - - color, style, etc. When it comes to Indian clothing, I don’t have a clue….Which color or fabric or style of sari marks which class? For me, it is all a colorful blend. I was talking to a colleague at work that mentioned that he had bought a sari for his mother. I asked whether “sari types” go out of style and change over time. He indicated that they do indeed.  As a westerner, I doubt that I would be able to identify the decade that any particular sari was made.

I’m reminded of our own “uniforms” when we were in middle and high school. Worn blue jeans, work shirts, water buffalo sandals in the summer (that we had to shower with in order to soften the leather.) We certainly did not look “styled.” But within our group, we knew what worked and what did not. Jeans had to be faded, as were the light blue work shirts. Belts were a particular width. Etc. But only the “insiders” knew all of these subtleties. To outsiders, we just looked like unkempt hippies…

This led to some confusion about how I should dress here, as I migrate to more Indian clothing. I got a lot of “kurtees” - - tunics that you wear over pants. I was hesitant in the beginning…are there certain lengths or cuts that you wear as a teenager, for example, that you should avoid as a professional “grown up”? And I wouldn’t know the difference, since I am not sensitive to these subtle distinctions? (subtle to me, obvious to everyone else?) I ended up taking the dive into Indian clothing and no ill effects to far. The Indian tunics have been a great find. I wear them to work over pants, and it eliminates the need for matching blazers with shirts and pants…wardrobe simplification.  


Clothing has that sort of “signaling power.” It might be worthwhile, as a teenager, to “signal” whether you are hippie or preppie or something else. Signaling your caste, if that’s what clothing here does, is a different story. I am glad that I am “colorblind” to the differences.
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We got a car!

This is a week of acquisitions. Amnon has been looking for a used car with a lot of frustration. Since he understands cars, he isn’t easily duped when owners or dealers misrepresent the mileage on a car, or deny that a car has been in an accident. All the cars he has looked at appear to have odometers that are “turned back.” I suppose that bad behaviors then beget more bad behaviors, because if your car legitimately has 50,000 Km on it, you can’t leave it as such because you will be competing with the cars that have 100,000 Km that have been modified to some much lower mileage. Today he went on one of his weekly hunts….and returned with a gray 7-seater Scorpio. Let the journeys begin! We have all been traveling lots, without a car, using taxis and rickshaws. The experience is starting to wear on the boys, who are constantly negotiating and arguing with drivers that are doubling their fees for their white passengers.

Kimbo has arrived!


We have been looking for the elusive white German Shepherd in India, and as described in an earlier post, we have been unsuccessful (and probably lied to…) at every turn. Amnon and Adam have continued the hunt, and Amnon came across yet another “breeder rep” that claimed to have shepherd puppies. But this one actually showed up and brought a couple of puppies to us this week - - one white, one black. We opted for the black puppy. Adorable beyond words, as you can see from the photos. Puppies require lots of care, but the whole process becomes easier when you have a full-time maid to assist in the inevitable clean-ups.

The naming process was our next challenge. We wanted a name that reflected his Indian origins (though actually, he was brought to us from Tibet.) The name had to not sound strange or unattractive in Hebrew or English. And we didn’t want it to sound like a derivative of Beebee, our dear departed white shepherd. One of the proposed names was “Gara Bara” - - which is the word for “bargaining and negotiating” at the market. A short name could be “GeeBee” - - but rejected as too close to “BeeBee.” What about “Garby” as a short name? Sounds like “garbage.” “Kala” means “black” in Hindi; but sounded too feminine for what will be a big black German Shepherd.

Amnon proposed the name “Nimbu” (sounds cute, and means “lemon” in Hindi.) The boys suggested Kojack - - sounded tough enough for a German Shepherd. They merged the two options and got “Kimbo” - - they liked the sound. Plus, Kimbo Slice is a tough black boxer. (Adam pointed out that “NIMBO Slice” would be like lemon soda.) So the puppy is now called “Kimbo Slice.” We are calling him “Kimbo” and all the derivatives of that….suffices for a little black puppy.

We brought him to a nearby vet to start the vaccination process (and to de-flea him; it looks like he may already have had some mini-traumas and insufficient care in his short 7 weeks of life…but the vet said he will be fine with the love and care that we will be showering on him….) She recommended special German Shepherd puppy food. This throws into sharp reality, once again, the difference between the “haves” (like our puppy) and the “have nots” (the thousands of street dogs in Delhi that forage through the garbage.) The boys remind me that dogs are bred to live in the wild too; that it isn’t necessarily a terrible life for them. Nonetheless, I have gotten more passionate about feeding the strays and bringing dog food and dog treats with me to work to lavish on the dogs that hang around IBM on a regular basis. (There are 3 of them, always there.) So I have found a mechanism to deal with some of my “white man’s guilt…”

We can add another checkmark onto our “to do” list of life.

Gara Bara, and what’s a fair price?

Gara Bara is the fine art of price negotiation here (it literally means 11,12….not sure how that morphed into “price negotiation.”) Amnon is a natural at this, as described in an earlier post. Jordan, Jesse, and Adam are also becoming expert. I, on the other hand, never negotiate down anything. With a few key exceptions - - Once I was approached by a street side shoeshiner, who wanted to polish my shoes. OK. I didn’t negotiate a price up front, thinking how much could he possibly charge. He asked for 300 rupees, the equivalent of $6. I KNEW that was scamming, though I didn’t know the real price. I told him I would give him no more than 200 rupees. He said he had used extra special polish. I then asked a nearby taxi driver what the fair price was. He said 30 rupees (75 cents). That incensed me. The taxi driver came back with me to the shoe shiner, and began arguing in Hindi. I ultimately got back another 100 rupees. So the scamming shoe shiner got an ill-deserved 200% tip. But he did use extra special polish, after all. My colleague at work said I could get a brand new pair of shiny shoes for the 300 rupees originally requested.

In general, it is hard for me to get too exercised about prices here, even when I am being targeted, marked, and clearly scammed. I continue to convert prices in my head to dollars, and the extra scam factor is too trivial (financially) to fuss over. Jordan, Jesse, and Adam, however, have turned this into an honor match, and refuse to be taken advantage of. If they know a particular rickshaw route should be 50 rupees, they are peeved to be charged 80 and will refuse to pay it. If the rickshaw driver refuses to turn on his meter, they threaten to contact authorities. They feel strongly that it is a bad precedent to enable the drivers or merchants to take advantage of foreigners and get away with it. And they see themselves as no longer fleeting tourists; so they are setting the precedent for other foreigners that are more naïve about the system here.

Clearly I am not as principled as the men in my life…

I point out that they are getting exercised over 35 cents or so. And I feel that everyone in the less-than-middle-class status (the overwhelming majority here) needs that money more than we do, so I see it as a charitable contribution that is being taken from us (albeit not so nicely) from someone that needs it. But scamming protects THEIR pride, as opposed to putting out their hand and begging for cash. So someone’s pride has to “give” here…

Then, there is the rule of unintended consequences. I think I am doing a good thing for the individuals, but I am perhaps, overall, doing a bad thing, by inflating price expectations for others, such as the local Indian population. A colleague pointed out that the number of foreign tourists in Goa has changed the equation for the Indian population, since the working community there would rather service the over-generous foreign community, than the locals. And prices start to rise to meet what the foreign communities are willing to pay; why leave all the money on the table when the foreigners don’t seem to even notice the difference between 100 rupees and 1000? This has been formalized at some tourist sites - - the entry fee at the Taj Mahal for Indians is 20 rupees (<50 cents) for foreigners it is 750 rupees (>$16)

Appreciating “Standards”

In the states, I always took for granted the fact that electrical plugs fit electrical sockets. I don’t know how it is done so consistently, but I don’t think I ever came across an electrical appliance that I couldn’t plug into an electrical outlet. It is different here. There are different types of plugs, and so we often need adapters even for appliances designed for India. And we often need to jiggle the plugs in a particular way so that they would “fit.”

At work, I needed new scotch tape for a dispenser that I had brought from the US. I got new tape from the mailroom, inserted it into the dispenser, and it fit. Oh joy! I was amazed and pleased that the tape matched some sort of “dispenser standard” in a setting where more basic requirements, like plugs and sockets, are often mismatched.

'Twas the week before Diwali

Amnon and I went to the Lajpat Nagar market the week before Diwali. We went to buy Indian tunics (kurtis) for me, as I gradually introduce Indian garb to my wardrobe....HARDLY urgent, though. So, think about shopping in a popular market, the week before the Indian-Christmas equivalent, with the population of India shopping too...

Diwali Mela, IBM Research

There was a Diwali Celebration on the weekend sponsored by IBM Research. A lovely and festive event. It was also a night of song and dance performances. The Basson brothers + dad performed - - in Hebrew, English, and Hindi. It was, I am sure, the first Hebrew song that anyone in this audience had heard. And, the first Hindi song that the Bassons had learned as well. Below are pictures from the mela, AND a link to the Hindi song that they performed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2LfqFHHBqE




Diwali, and mosquitos

Yesterday was Diwali, the major annual Hindu holiday in India. It is the “festival of lights,” and gift giving, and eating/sharing traditional sweets. Lights, gifts….semblances of Christmas, and Chanukah. Though the origins are….different. I am fascinated by the celebratory similarities…at some point we must have all plagiarized the same rituals…(Jesse wanted to “celebrate” yesterday by eating Chinese food and seeing a Bollywood movie, the “traditional” activities of many Jewish people, on Christmas day.)


From Wikipedia:
Diwali involves the lighting of small clay lamps (diyas) filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil….Diwali commemorates the return of Lord Rama along with Sita and Lakshman from his fourteen year long exile and vanquishing the demon-king Ravana. In joyous celebration of the return of their king, the people of Ayodhya, the Capital of Rama, illuminated the kingdom with earthen diyas (oil lamps) and burst firecrackers.

Firecrackers went off all day; fireworks (organized and unorganized) went off all night. Pretty spectacular displays. The city gets smoky from all the things burning. But I have been told, and also read, that there are good side effects for this. Mosquitoes in India are more than just nuisances; they transmit dengue, malaria, and chikungunya (yet another awful mosquito-borne illness here). And the smoke and the noise and the haze from Diwalli fireworks supposedly decimate the mosquito population.

Accessibility in India – mainstreaming issues

I had the privilege of going to a conference on accessibility in education. As some of you know, I have been involved in a project with universities for many years (Liberated Learning - -www.liberatedlearning.com) This is a consortium of some 20 universities worldwide, that are trying to make classrooms more accessible for deaf and hard of hearing students (and others), using speech recognition to caption lectures. I envisioned perhaps engaging an Indian university to join the consortium, and open up mainstream education for deaf and hard of hearing students.

Reality check. Someone involved in deaf sign language in India gave a presentation. He pointed out that deaf children in India don’t start learning sign until age 7, which leaves them pretty “non-lingual” until then. And seven years old is too late to start learning your first language. The kids end up reading on a 2nd grade level, and generally don’t graduate high school. I imagine that there are virtually no deaf students in college, then. This dilutes a key “selling point” for Liberated Learning….there is no value in captioning lectures for deaf/hard of hearing students if:
  1. they aren’t getting into college anyway
  2. they have 2nd grade reading skills

Discussions with another accessibility expert at the conference exposed more attitudes towards disabilities and treatment of people with disabilities in India. She said that the Hindu belief in reincarnation and karma reduces the urgency people feel to remediate and intervene for children with disabilities; it introduces a belief that the disability is the person’s “cross to bear” (to mix religious metaphors!). There is also a Hindu mandate to help needy people, but that (she said) translates more into “protecting them from outside forces” rather than introducing extensive interventions. So it looks like a long road to hoe if the goal is to mainstream children with disabilities. There is a need to change the attitudes; not only to introduce new methods and technologies.

Guests of honor – head of the NGO school







We were invited to the home of the head of the NGO school where Jesse and Jordan had briefly taught English. The neighborhood is a slum, though not as desperate a slum as the neighborhood of the slum school. We were treated as the honored guests. It coincided with an engagement party for the nephew of the school president, and we were included in all the festivities. We were also invited to the wedding itself on November 17th.