More reflections on having servants
My internal conflicts with having “servant staff” have come through repeatedly in my blog entries.
The “good parts” of having servants are immediately apparent. We come home every day to gourmet and freshly cooked meals, and a clean house. In some senses, this really should be the norm for everyone. What are the alternatives we face in the US, for those that work outside of the home? We can:
• Come home from work, shop for fresh items, and cook something delicious and nutritious that won’t be ready till midnight
• Wake up a couple of hours before you leave for work, and cook for the evening
• Re-heat food prepared from over the weekend
• Prepare something quick and processed and not terribly healthy
Over the years, I have done all of these things…
The “strange” parts of servant staff are more subtle and unfold over time.
First, there is joy even in the most “unpleasant” parts of our routines, a joy that we probably rarely reflect on, and certainly not while we are immersed in those routines. I remember waking up with infants in the middle of the night…and with four sons, that went on for years, cumulatively. If on any morning I were asked whether I would like someone to take on the 3:00 am duties, I would have eagerly accepted the offer. But looking back, I am happy to reflect on the “stuff” that I did, and I would be less happy now if I had “outsourced” it. Though I would have impulsively outsourced it if I were given a choice at the time.
Second, and perhaps not unrelated, you feel less “connected” to your own house. In the states, I was intimately familiar with the kitchen, and spent more waking time there than in any other room in the house. That is not true here, of course, where I do neither the cleaning nor cooking myself. And here is one of the consequences of that: Amnon had an Israeli friend over a few weeks ago, and I made them coffee. I often make an Israeli concoction referred to as “café mukszaf” – it’s just instant coffee, sugar, and few drops of water which you mix vigorously with a spoon for several minutes till the mixture gets thick and pale, and your wrists start to hurt. By infusing air into it with vigorous mixing, the coffee gets a layer of foam on top and actually tastes creamier. I proudly brought the coffee out to Amnon and our guest. Amnon took a sip….and discovered that I had inadvertently made the concoction with salt. (It was a white substance in an unmarked empty Nutella jar.) We all laughed, and I made more coffee for all….But I reflected on the significance of not actually knowing where the sugar is in your own kitchen.
The “good parts” of having servants are immediately apparent. We come home every day to gourmet and freshly cooked meals, and a clean house. In some senses, this really should be the norm for everyone. What are the alternatives we face in the US, for those that work outside of the home? We can:
• Come home from work, shop for fresh items, and cook something delicious and nutritious that won’t be ready till midnight
• Wake up a couple of hours before you leave for work, and cook for the evening
• Re-heat food prepared from over the weekend
• Prepare something quick and processed and not terribly healthy
Over the years, I have done all of these things…
The “strange” parts of servant staff are more subtle and unfold over time.
First, there is joy even in the most “unpleasant” parts of our routines, a joy that we probably rarely reflect on, and certainly not while we are immersed in those routines. I remember waking up with infants in the middle of the night…and with four sons, that went on for years, cumulatively. If on any morning I were asked whether I would like someone to take on the 3:00 am duties, I would have eagerly accepted the offer. But looking back, I am happy to reflect on the “stuff” that I did, and I would be less happy now if I had “outsourced” it. Though I would have impulsively outsourced it if I were given a choice at the time.
Second, and perhaps not unrelated, you feel less “connected” to your own house. In the states, I was intimately familiar with the kitchen, and spent more waking time there than in any other room in the house. That is not true here, of course, where I do neither the cleaning nor cooking myself. And here is one of the consequences of that: Amnon had an Israeli friend over a few weeks ago, and I made them coffee. I often make an Israeli concoction referred to as “café mukszaf” – it’s just instant coffee, sugar, and few drops of water which you mix vigorously with a spoon for several minutes till the mixture gets thick and pale, and your wrists start to hurt. By infusing air into it with vigorous mixing, the coffee gets a layer of foam on top and actually tastes creamier. I proudly brought the coffee out to Amnon and our guest. Amnon took a sip….and discovered that I had inadvertently made the concoction with salt. (It was a white substance in an unmarked empty Nutella jar.) We all laughed, and I made more coffee for all….But I reflected on the significance of not actually knowing where the sugar is in your own kitchen.
Servants as a sub-class
I have commented to my colleagues that I think maids in India are treated a notch better than slaves; my colleagues have staunchly disagreed. They point out that maids now dictate their terms of employment much more than they did in the past, and there is a more equitable negotiation.
A few anecdotes, though, reinforce my view of profound inequalities.
Amnon was talking to one of the merchants in the marketplace. The merchant commented that it is inappropriate for household help to use a bathroom that is used by other members of the family. They are expected to use the bathroom that is in their servant area, if they are live-in maids. (And I don’t know which bathroom they are expected to use, if they aren’t live-in with a dedicated servant’s bathroom... For men in India, it is easier….One always sees men urinating in the streets against random walls….but I have never seen women using public spaces that way…) There are rationalizations for this…the merchant told Amnon that maids that live in slum areas can bring diseases into the house. I am reminded of driving down to Florida with my parents as a child. Somewhere in Georgia, I used a gas station bathroom, and saw that there was a door that said “white” and a door that said “colored.” It was horrifying to see this up close, even as a kid. And I would bet that black/white segregation had similar rationales…”it’s not that we are prejudiced, but this other class of people carries disease.”
Another tidbit on treating servants as a subclass comes from a Hindi phrasebook that Jordan was using. He pointed out the section to me that provides useful sentences for talking to servants. I include this below. I think the phrases, and the tone of those phrases, are very revealing about the expected relationship between employer and a servant employee.
A few anecdotes, though, reinforce my view of profound inequalities.
Amnon was talking to one of the merchants in the marketplace. The merchant commented that it is inappropriate for household help to use a bathroom that is used by other members of the family. They are expected to use the bathroom that is in their servant area, if they are live-in maids. (And I don’t know which bathroom they are expected to use, if they aren’t live-in with a dedicated servant’s bathroom... For men in India, it is easier….One always sees men urinating in the streets against random walls….but I have never seen women using public spaces that way…) There are rationalizations for this…the merchant told Amnon that maids that live in slum areas can bring diseases into the house. I am reminded of driving down to Florida with my parents as a child. Somewhere in Georgia, I used a gas station bathroom, and saw that there was a door that said “white” and a door that said “colored.” It was horrifying to see this up close, even as a kid. And I would bet that black/white segregation had similar rationales…”it’s not that we are prejudiced, but this other class of people carries disease.”
Another tidbit on treating servants as a subclass comes from a Hindi phrasebook that Jordan was using. He pointed out the section to me that provides useful sentences for talking to servants. I include this below. I think the phrases, and the tone of those phrases, are very revealing about the expected relationship between employer and a servant employee.
How to “make a difference” - - feeding people, or caring for animals
There are so many areas in India that can use a “boost,” and I would like to be able to do some small part of “making things better” while we are here. But where to begin?
I was doing an after lunch walk near the IBM Research facility, where a little “tent city” has sprung up. (I don’t know why homeless people congregate in one area vs. another. I know that clusters form in places where there is construction going on and a need for day laborers; but I don’t know what spawned this particular cluster.) I saw a baby girl – less than one year old – sitting half naked on the ground, playing with sticks and stones (and perfectly happy, I might add.) Her mother was 30 feet away, breaking bricks with a small tool. When she saw me sitting near her little girl, she walked over, and said “biscuits?” I went back to the IBM building, and bought 10 sleeves of cookies, and came back down. I began thinking that this little girl could be someone I could help; I would buy clothes for her the following day, etc. As I was walking over, 3 little boys emerged from the “tent city” and started walking with me. I gave them 3 sleeves of cookies. Suddenly 5 other children emerged. And the mother of the little girl from the beginning of this story walked toward me; I gave her the rest of the cookie sleeves. Now I had 5 children with nothing, and I was trying to tell the boys that had cookies to “share.” (I’m sure THAT suggestion was successful, if it was even understood.) I began walking back to IBM. Now, mothers were coming out and following me too. This model clearly wasn’t working….The best way to make one little girl your “target” for support is probably through one of those television ads in the US that say “for just pennies a day, you can help child X get medications and go to school” – you can focus on “just one” from a remote location, but once you are in situ, it isn’t possible.
When I got inside the gate at IBM, the 3 dogs that always hang around were there. Someone pointed out that dogs are territorial…so those are the 3 “IBM dogs,” and others will not invade their territory. I have been bringing food and treats for the dogs for the last couple of months. They have come to expect something whenever they see me, which is fine; and I try not to disappoint. But at least with animals, it’s a finite set.
I was doing an after lunch walk near the IBM Research facility, where a little “tent city” has sprung up. (I don’t know why homeless people congregate in one area vs. another. I know that clusters form in places where there is construction going on and a need for day laborers; but I don’t know what spawned this particular cluster.) I saw a baby girl – less than one year old – sitting half naked on the ground, playing with sticks and stones (and perfectly happy, I might add.) Her mother was 30 feet away, breaking bricks with a small tool. When she saw me sitting near her little girl, she walked over, and said “biscuits?” I went back to the IBM building, and bought 10 sleeves of cookies, and came back down. I began thinking that this little girl could be someone I could help; I would buy clothes for her the following day, etc. As I was walking over, 3 little boys emerged from the “tent city” and started walking with me. I gave them 3 sleeves of cookies. Suddenly 5 other children emerged. And the mother of the little girl from the beginning of this story walked toward me; I gave her the rest of the cookie sleeves. Now I had 5 children with nothing, and I was trying to tell the boys that had cookies to “share.” (I’m sure THAT suggestion was successful, if it was even understood.) I began walking back to IBM. Now, mothers were coming out and following me too. This model clearly wasn’t working….The best way to make one little girl your “target” for support is probably through one of those television ads in the US that say “for just pennies a day, you can help child X get medications and go to school” – you can focus on “just one” from a remote location, but once you are in situ, it isn’t possible.
When I got inside the gate at IBM, the 3 dogs that always hang around were there. Someone pointed out that dogs are territorial…so those are the 3 “IBM dogs,” and others will not invade their territory. I have been bringing food and treats for the dogs for the last couple of months. They have come to expect something whenever they see me, which is fine; and I try not to disappoint. But at least with animals, it’s a finite set.
Jewish stars and swastikas
There are lots of 6-sided stars in India, and also lots of swastikas, as ornaments, decorations for buildings, etc. My friend Lorraine pointed out before we came here that the 6-sided stars are not Jewish stars, and the swastikas are not Nazi symbols. I found the following background on wikipedia:
"....the "Star of David" originates in the writings of Aristotle, who used triangles in different positions to indicate the different basic elements. The superposed triangles thus represented combinations of those elements. From Aristotle's writings those symbols made their ways into early, pre-Muslim Arab literature."
"The swastika (Sanskrit: स्वास्तिक) is an equilateral cross with its arms bent at right angles, in either right-facing (卐) form or its mirrored left-facing (卍) form. Earliest archaeological evidence of swastika-shaped ornaments dates back to the Indus Valley Civilization of Ancient India as well as Classical Antiquity. It remains widely used in Eastern religions, specifically in Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism."
Nonetheless, it was jarring to see this box of sweets, decorated with a 6 sided star with a swastika at its center.
And amusing to see this, on Humayoon's Tomb; a Moghul emperor.
"....the "Star of David" originates in the writings of Aristotle, who used triangles in different positions to indicate the different basic elements. The superposed triangles thus represented combinations of those elements. From Aristotle's writings those symbols made their ways into early, pre-Muslim Arab literature."
"The swastika (Sanskrit: स्वास्तिक) is an equilateral cross with its arms bent at right angles, in either right-facing (卐) form or its mirrored left-facing (卍) form. Earliest archaeological evidence of swastika-shaped ornaments dates back to the Indus Valley Civilization of Ancient India as well as Classical Antiquity. It remains widely used in Eastern religions, specifically in Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism."
Nonetheless, it was jarring to see this box of sweets, decorated with a 6 sided star with a swastika at its center.
And amusing to see this, on Humayoon's Tomb; a Moghul emperor.
Still can’t understand the problem with clean water…
I remain perplexed about why the water supply here cannot be made clean and drinkable. Amnon recently got a hot water bottle to use when he has a back cramp. I include the wrapper for the bottle below. It indicates that you need to use filtered water in order to preserve the longevity of the rubber hot water bottle. I shake my head to think that the water from the tap can cause the rubber to disintegrate….what does it do to people’s stomachs, if they drink it unfiltered?
I have heard a number of explanations and hypotheses as to why this problem is intractable. I include a few of them here:
• When workers for various utilities dig up the streets to resolve some underground problem, there is no tracking about whether there are (say) fuel lines at a particular point. And if something gets punctured, there is no reporting structure, and so the pollutants end up running rampant and polluting the water supply.
• Water is not constantly available; it is delivered to a drum near your house only for a couple of hours a day, when the city releases water. The stagnant water in the drum then has all sorts of debris and particles. I asked why they can’t instead have a water supply that is flowing and constantly available. I was told that there was not sufficient water for a system like that given India’s population.
• Another theory: Building additional dams and reservoirs will consume space and resources of certain states; they will feel “put upon” and refuse to allow their state to bear the brunt so that other states benefit.
• And a final hypothesis I have heard: The purified water industry is now big business, selling purifiers, and bottled water, and they are a powerful lobby not to change the current system.
By the way....during my recent trip to NY, I was looking forward to drinking water from random water fountains and faucets once again. I came to my home base office in Yorktown Heights for meetings. And given the heavy snows, the note below was posted on the water fountains and coffee machines. What irony!
I have heard a number of explanations and hypotheses as to why this problem is intractable. I include a few of them here:
• When workers for various utilities dig up the streets to resolve some underground problem, there is no tracking about whether there are (say) fuel lines at a particular point. And if something gets punctured, there is no reporting structure, and so the pollutants end up running rampant and polluting the water supply.
• Water is not constantly available; it is delivered to a drum near your house only for a couple of hours a day, when the city releases water. The stagnant water in the drum then has all sorts of debris and particles. I asked why they can’t instead have a water supply that is flowing and constantly available. I was told that there was not sufficient water for a system like that given India’s population.
• Another theory: Building additional dams and reservoirs will consume space and resources of certain states; they will feel “put upon” and refuse to allow their state to bear the brunt so that other states benefit.
• And a final hypothesis I have heard: The purified water industry is now big business, selling purifiers, and bottled water, and they are a powerful lobby not to change the current system.
By the way....during my recent trip to NY, I was looking forward to drinking water from random water fountains and faucets once again. I came to my home base office in Yorktown Heights for meetings. And given the heavy snows, the note below was posted on the water fountains and coffee machines. What irony!
Travel to the US in January-February
I had a business trip to the US at the end of January, my first trip outside of India since July. There was so much to look forward to. I was traveling to the AVIOS-sponsored Mobile Voice conference in San Jose. AVIOS and the speech technology applications community are now my dear friends and extended family; I have been on the AVIOS Board since Jesse was born (and he is now 18 years old…) So this was an opportunity to update and get updated about speech technology innovations. From there, I traveled to NY, where I met with a number of IBM executives to start career plans for when I conclude my India assignment in summer 2011. NY allowed opportunities for me to meet my actual family. My brother Jerry flew up from Florida so we could be together on the weekend. Evenings allowed me to see many other family and friends for dinner. Amnon was also in NY for part of the time.
First stop, San Jose. Many contrasts to New Delhi. The air was clear and fresh. The pavement was smooth and you could walk on the sidewalks. Streetlights with light-crossing buttons at every corner. Trash bins were plentiful. If there were homeless people on the street, they were mentally ill. Let me comment point by point.
- The air quality differences don’t need to be discussed further….
- The pavement - - It is hard to walk on sidewalks in many areas in Delhi. Pavement is broken, or discontinuous, and you end up walking in the streets (but with zooming traffic, this isn’t pleasant either.)
- Across from the hotel in San Jose, there was a multi-lane major cross-section. The sort of street you would be terrified to cross in New Delhi. But with a single push of a button, the light turned green for pedestrians, traffic stopped, and I ambled across the street.
- Trash bins, everywhere. What a treat! I had tissues in my pocket; I sneezed, and discarded the tissues rather than keeping them with me for the rest of my walk. The streets were free from debris - - perhaps in part because of the frequency of trash bins?
- Homeless people are pervasive in warmer climates like San Jose, since it’s a “nicer place to be” if you have to live on the streets than NYC. Most of the homeless people I came across, though, seemed mentally ill. This is horrifying, but also more easily “digestible” than seeing (for example) homeless families with young children living on the street. I can appreciate that someone mentally ill cannot in many cases live with his own family. If he is placed in a shelter, his mental illness might cause him to prefer the street; and short of incarceration, it might not be possible to “harness” him. This differs from what I see in Delhi all the time - - entire homeless families, mentally intact, sleeping under a “flyover” (bridge).
First stop, San Jose. Many contrasts to New Delhi. The air was clear and fresh. The pavement was smooth and you could walk on the sidewalks. Streetlights with light-crossing buttons at every corner. Trash bins were plentiful. If there were homeless people on the street, they were mentally ill. Let me comment point by point.
- The air quality differences don’t need to be discussed further….
- The pavement - - It is hard to walk on sidewalks in many areas in Delhi. Pavement is broken, or discontinuous, and you end up walking in the streets (but with zooming traffic, this isn’t pleasant either.)
- Across from the hotel in San Jose, there was a multi-lane major cross-section. The sort of street you would be terrified to cross in New Delhi. But with a single push of a button, the light turned green for pedestrians, traffic stopped, and I ambled across the street.
- Trash bins, everywhere. What a treat! I had tissues in my pocket; I sneezed, and discarded the tissues rather than keeping them with me for the rest of my walk. The streets were free from debris - - perhaps in part because of the frequency of trash bins?
- Homeless people are pervasive in warmer climates like San Jose, since it’s a “nicer place to be” if you have to live on the streets than NYC. Most of the homeless people I came across, though, seemed mentally ill. This is horrifying, but also more easily “digestible” than seeing (for example) homeless families with young children living on the street. I can appreciate that someone mentally ill cannot in many cases live with his own family. If he is placed in a shelter, his mental illness might cause him to prefer the street; and short of incarceration, it might not be possible to “harness” him. This differs from what I see in Delhi all the time - - entire homeless families, mentally intact, sleeping under a “flyover” (bridge).
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.
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.
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?
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.”
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.
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
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.
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.
Pictures - -open mike night; all dressed up on the way to a wedding, and Kimbo!
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.
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.
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