If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: getting things done in India is tough. Like nutrition lessons.
After about two weeks of delays, I finally got around to starting my nutrition lessons at KLB today. They were delayed mostly because students were still busy doing exams and didn’t want to be bothered by new material to learn, even though it wouldn’t be on any exam or anything like they. They just had to show up and pay attention. Today, exams were finished, so Principal Ramdev told me to start by teaching two classes. Now that’s another problem. These are students that don’t have class normally, so rounding them up from wherever they are and getting them to the teaching hall took some time. I started a half hour later than planned for the first lesson, but that’s okay. At least it started at all.
I began with nutrition basics: sources of energy, energy balance, and dietary recommendations. I didn’t want to get too much into the science behind it, and I couldn’t tell them exactly what they should be eating on a daily basis. Rather, general education is the goal. In order to eat properly and be healthy, you must understand what it is that you eat, and that’s knowledge that so many people in the area lack. They don’t think about their food; they just eat. I’m hoping to change that.
Easier said than done. Engaging with the students was like pulling teeth. For the most part, they just sat there and didn’t say a word or make any reaction to what I said. I would ask them a question and try to get them to respond, and I would wait for a full minute before answering my own question and moving on to the next topic. How was I supposed to get them to think about their food if they wouldn’t even think about thinking about their food?
The good thing about pulling teeth, however, is that if you try hard enough, it will eventually come out. The first lecture was an hour long, and by the second half, I was making some progress. This came as a result of me making a few fat jokes, but hey, anything I can do to get some interaction is okay by me. By the end of the lecture, they were actively asking and answering questions and even using some reasoning to figure out dietary requirements. Even I didn’t expect them to make so much progress so fast.
This will probably jinx myself, but if I can keep it up, the rest of the lessons should be a breeze.
31 March 2010
30 March 2010
Finger Food Revamped
It’s funny how people from different cultures can take not only the same ingredients, but also the same cooking methods, and make something completely different for a completely different purpose. This I learned last night from Shammi and Atul. Atul stopped by for a short visit to discuss a few things, and according to Indian etiquette, Shammi decided to make a small snack to keep our mouths busy for the time being. The dish of choice? Scrambled eggs. Yum! But it’s a different kind of yum then what I eat for breakfast in America.
First, let me tell you about American scrambled eggs. They’re based on the French method for scrambled eggs, only with a heck of a lot less cream. What you do is beat the eggs until they are all the same consistency, then add a about a tablespoon of milk per egg, along with some salt and pepper to taste. With a minimum of spices, you can get the full taste of the egg to shine in the final dish, which is what you’re after. To cook them, pour the mixture into a cool frying pan that has a little bit of butter on it. Then you put it into the heat. Don’t put it into a hot frying pan, because that’s how you make a French-style omelette. Scrambled eggs should be different. They should be loose, soft, a little bit creamy, and still hold themselves together on the plate and the on fork that makes it’s way to your eager mouth. Continuously move the eggs around with a wooden or plastic spatula while you turn the heat up to medium flame and the eggs cook slowly. As the heat increases, the eggs will start to come together and become solid, but it will happen slowly. Now, here’s the most important part: remove the eggs from the heat before they are finished. Eggs and egg-based dishes continue to cook themselves from residual heat after they are removed from the hot pan, and if you want perfectly cooked scrambled eggs that are soft and delicate, you must put them on your plate while they are still a little bit runny. Trust me on this, because if you follow these instructions, after a couple of minutes, you will be eating the best eggs you have ever eaten in your life. They’ll be so soft and fluffy that you can spread them like jam on a piece of toast. That’s what my brother said, anyway.
Needless to say, Indian scrambled eggs are a bit different. First, you dice a quarter head of cabbage and three green chili peppers (Serrano peppers, if you’re in the U.S.) for three eggs. While you do that, keep the frying pan on high heat with a very small amount of oil. It will get very hot. First, you sauté the cabbage and peppers in the oil for a couple of minutes until the peppers are soft. You then pour the eggs into the very hot pan. They will immediately start to harden and seize up, so keep moving them around with a spatula. And keep doing it, for longer than you want to do so. When I did it while Shammi prepared muttar paneer (absolutely delicious, one of my favorite Indian dishes), I kept taking them off the heat, and Shammi kept putting them back one. It happened at least three times, because I continuously felt like I was overcooking the eggs. They were completely together and the pan was dry, but apparently, I was supposed to keep coking them until they were dry and lifeless.
The result? Delicious, and different. It was finger food, actually. There was no moisture left in the eggs, which makes for really bad breakfast, but since all the pieces were separated, it was great finger food. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. Even badly cooked scrambled eggs in the states had more moisture then this treat, but you wouldn’t eat Indian scrambled eggs for breakfast. Hard, dry and spicy, these eggs were meant for a snack.
Which makes me think of a cultural difference that I haven’t yet brought up. Most Indians eat food with their hands. Even wet dishes like a water dal soaked in rice are scooped up with one’s fingers. Your fingertips become premature taste buds that can taste the spicy dishes a few moments before they reach your tongue. It’s messy, sure, but that’s why you wash your hand before dinner. It’s also why you don’t eat with your left hand, because that’s the hand you use to wipe your ass. Don’t touch your food with it. Yuck.
Anyway, Indian scrambled eggs are completely different then their American counterpart, but they are certainly delicious in their own way. It makes me think, how else can we combine the same ingredients that we’ve had for thousands of years in new and exciting ways? How can the butter, sugar, eggs and flour be used to make a new kind of cake, or how can garlic be cooked in a different way to yield a new taste? That’s what I was after when I made monkey balls, and that’s what I want to keep on searching for in the rest of my time here. I only have 6 months to investigate the hundreds of ingredients at my disposal. Better hurry!
First, let me tell you about American scrambled eggs. They’re based on the French method for scrambled eggs, only with a heck of a lot less cream. What you do is beat the eggs until they are all the same consistency, then add a about a tablespoon of milk per egg, along with some salt and pepper to taste. With a minimum of spices, you can get the full taste of the egg to shine in the final dish, which is what you’re after. To cook them, pour the mixture into a cool frying pan that has a little bit of butter on it. Then you put it into the heat. Don’t put it into a hot frying pan, because that’s how you make a French-style omelette. Scrambled eggs should be different. They should be loose, soft, a little bit creamy, and still hold themselves together on the plate and the on fork that makes it’s way to your eager mouth. Continuously move the eggs around with a wooden or plastic spatula while you turn the heat up to medium flame and the eggs cook slowly. As the heat increases, the eggs will start to come together and become solid, but it will happen slowly. Now, here’s the most important part: remove the eggs from the heat before they are finished. Eggs and egg-based dishes continue to cook themselves from residual heat after they are removed from the hot pan, and if you want perfectly cooked scrambled eggs that are soft and delicate, you must put them on your plate while they are still a little bit runny. Trust me on this, because if you follow these instructions, after a couple of minutes, you will be eating the best eggs you have ever eaten in your life. They’ll be so soft and fluffy that you can spread them like jam on a piece of toast. That’s what my brother said, anyway.
Needless to say, Indian scrambled eggs are a bit different. First, you dice a quarter head of cabbage and three green chili peppers (Serrano peppers, if you’re in the U.S.) for three eggs. While you do that, keep the frying pan on high heat with a very small amount of oil. It will get very hot. First, you sauté the cabbage and peppers in the oil for a couple of minutes until the peppers are soft. You then pour the eggs into the very hot pan. They will immediately start to harden and seize up, so keep moving them around with a spatula. And keep doing it, for longer than you want to do so. When I did it while Shammi prepared muttar paneer (absolutely delicious, one of my favorite Indian dishes), I kept taking them off the heat, and Shammi kept putting them back one. It happened at least three times, because I continuously felt like I was overcooking the eggs. They were completely together and the pan was dry, but apparently, I was supposed to keep coking them until they were dry and lifeless.
The result? Delicious, and different. It was finger food, actually. There was no moisture left in the eggs, which makes for really bad breakfast, but since all the pieces were separated, it was great finger food. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. Even badly cooked scrambled eggs in the states had more moisture then this treat, but you wouldn’t eat Indian scrambled eggs for breakfast. Hard, dry and spicy, these eggs were meant for a snack.
Which makes me think of a cultural difference that I haven’t yet brought up. Most Indians eat food with their hands. Even wet dishes like a water dal soaked in rice are scooped up with one’s fingers. Your fingertips become premature taste buds that can taste the spicy dishes a few moments before they reach your tongue. It’s messy, sure, but that’s why you wash your hand before dinner. It’s also why you don’t eat with your left hand, because that’s the hand you use to wipe your ass. Don’t touch your food with it. Yuck.
Anyway, Indian scrambled eggs are completely different then their American counterpart, but they are certainly delicious in their own way. It makes me think, how else can we combine the same ingredients that we’ve had for thousands of years in new and exciting ways? How can the butter, sugar, eggs and flour be used to make a new kind of cake, or how can garlic be cooked in a different way to yield a new taste? That’s what I was after when I made monkey balls, and that’s what I want to keep on searching for in the rest of my time here. I only have 6 months to investigate the hundreds of ingredients at my disposal. Better hurry!
29 March 2010
Kayakalp or Bust
I know that when I first started this blog, I wrote that I will be doing an internship at Kayaklap, a naturopathic health clinic and yoga center. I know that I haven’t gotten there yet. Stuff just keeps getting in the way. It has been like that movie Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle, where in the beginning of the movie they set out to get some hamburgers and continuously get sidetracked on the way by cheetahs and Neil Patrick Harris. At the end, they’re better for it, because the journey is more important than the destination. At least it was in their case, and I can definitely say the same for mine. I love what I’ve done so far, and I’m glad that I’m not working at Kayakalp instead. That’s because I finally visited it yesterday, and I know now that it wouldn’t have been the right place for me.
Mrs. Singh was kind enough to give me the introduction to a doctor at Kayakalp, Dr. Varsha Jain, who agreed to let me come in and ask some questions. Armed with my trusty notebook, the two of us set off on a journey to find out what’s so special about this place that has people coming in from all over the world to do yoga and get massages. Upon arriving, I was at first struck by the modernity of the complex. Being a first-class spa, the campus was decked out with post-modern architecture and pristinely-kept gardens that made me feel like I had left India. Even most of the people walking around were wearing Western clothing instead of Indian dress.
We got to Dr. Jain’s office and she showed me some brochures while explaining to me some of the things they do at Kayakalp. I was surprised to hear that she personally had received my resume months ago, before I arrived when I was sure that I would be interning at Kayakalp. Apparently, the administration was not very receptive to somebody coming in and trying to change their practices. Of course that’s not necessarily what I was going to do, it was just the impression they had of Americans coming in. We have the tendency of kicking down the door of foreign countries and telling them how they should do things better. But that’s another blog. Yet even Dr. Jain expressed her concern that the nutrition methods used at the clinic could be very responsive to outside influence and needed some updating to reflect new foods and diets introduced by globalization. I guess that’s just going to have to be somebody else’s job.
For the last few minutes, I was given a short tour of the main facility by one of the yoga instructors, whom I think was also a doctor, but I couldn’t be sure. She was about 4 foot nothing and talked a mile a minute. Even though her English was perfect, it was hard to follow, like a chipmunk on helium and crack. I walked around to the various naturopathic rooms, which were essentially rooms designed to accommodate various spa treatments. There were the standard massage tables and steam rooms, but a few of them held some very strange equipment. Deluxe massage baths that required the patient to be strapped it… an enclosed “steam chair” that allowed a patient’s head to stick out of the box where the rest of their body was being assaulted by moist heat… oh, and the colon cleansing room. It’s like an enema, except it uses 25 liters. In your butt. After awhile, I wasn’t sure if I hadn’t accidentally gone to Guantanamo Bay.
After narrowly escaping the water boarding room (just kidding… I think), Mrs. Singh and I left to visit one of her friends, and that was my visit to Kayakalp. All this waiting and anticipation, but I was able to get a thorough tour of the place in 10 minutes. It’s not a bad place at all, and I’m not saying that an internship there would have been worthless. I’m just glad that I found some stuff to do at KLB, because that has been a very rewarding experience, and I don’t regret working there instead of Kayakalp. But hey, at least now I will be able to recommend a place that does great colon work. In case you’re interested.
Mrs. Singh was kind enough to give me the introduction to a doctor at Kayakalp, Dr. Varsha Jain, who agreed to let me come in and ask some questions. Armed with my trusty notebook, the two of us set off on a journey to find out what’s so special about this place that has people coming in from all over the world to do yoga and get massages. Upon arriving, I was at first struck by the modernity of the complex. Being a first-class spa, the campus was decked out with post-modern architecture and pristinely-kept gardens that made me feel like I had left India. Even most of the people walking around were wearing Western clothing instead of Indian dress.
We got to Dr. Jain’s office and she showed me some brochures while explaining to me some of the things they do at Kayakalp. I was surprised to hear that she personally had received my resume months ago, before I arrived when I was sure that I would be interning at Kayakalp. Apparently, the administration was not very receptive to somebody coming in and trying to change their practices. Of course that’s not necessarily what I was going to do, it was just the impression they had of Americans coming in. We have the tendency of kicking down the door of foreign countries and telling them how they should do things better. But that’s another blog. Yet even Dr. Jain expressed her concern that the nutrition methods used at the clinic could be very responsive to outside influence and needed some updating to reflect new foods and diets introduced by globalization. I guess that’s just going to have to be somebody else’s job.
For the last few minutes, I was given a short tour of the main facility by one of the yoga instructors, whom I think was also a doctor, but I couldn’t be sure. She was about 4 foot nothing and talked a mile a minute. Even though her English was perfect, it was hard to follow, like a chipmunk on helium and crack. I walked around to the various naturopathic rooms, which were essentially rooms designed to accommodate various spa treatments. There were the standard massage tables and steam rooms, but a few of them held some very strange equipment. Deluxe massage baths that required the patient to be strapped it… an enclosed “steam chair” that allowed a patient’s head to stick out of the box where the rest of their body was being assaulted by moist heat… oh, and the colon cleansing room. It’s like an enema, except it uses 25 liters. In your butt. After awhile, I wasn’t sure if I hadn’t accidentally gone to Guantanamo Bay.
After narrowly escaping the water boarding room (just kidding… I think), Mrs. Singh and I left to visit one of her friends, and that was my visit to Kayakalp. All this waiting and anticipation, but I was able to get a thorough tour of the place in 10 minutes. It’s not a bad place at all, and I’m not saying that an internship there would have been worthless. I’m just glad that I found some stuff to do at KLB, because that has been a very rewarding experience, and I don’t regret working there instead of Kayakalp. But hey, at least now I will be able to recommend a place that does great colon work. In case you’re interested.
27 March 2010
Bake Me a Cake
I know now that if by chance I will end up living in India for the rest of my life, I can find some happiness no matter what. That’s because I found an oven and a bakery that houses it. Today I went for a short field trip to Krishna Bakery in Averi, a small town outside of Palampur and on the way to Paprola, where the Ayurvedic College is located. Today’s excursion had little to do with my work here; it was more to satisfy my own curiosity. I knew that there are bakeries around here, and I wanted to see how one works. Luckily, Atul told me that he knew the owner of one and that I could come spend a few hours there. To say I was looking forward to it is an understatement.
The best part about the whole day was the moment that I walked into the premises of the bakery. A familiar smell hit me right in the face, one to which I had grown accustomed last semester when I worked at MSU’s bakery on campus: yeast. A lot of it. Some people say that there’s nothing like the smell of baking a loaf of bread in your house. I disagree. That smell is easily rivaled by the scent produced by baking about a hundred loaves of bread at a time. There’s nothing like it. It’s an overwhelming smell of delicious bread fermentation that you can’t get anywhere else but at a commercial bakery, and as soon as it found its way into my nostrils, I knew that I was going to have a good day.
Krishna Bakery is owned and operated by a Mr. Ajay Sood, who has no formal training but 12 years of experience. He speaks pretty good English and runs an even better operation. It’s quite small by American standards, with only 4 employees on the payroll, but it’s just the right size for a small place like Palampur. Mr. Sood’s bakery was a literal smash-up of east and west, a perfect example of globalization. I have mentioned before that North Indian cuisine requires very little baking and hasn’t really needed ovens for the past 5000 years, so any bakery in India, by its very existence, is a tribute to globalization. It’s a place where Western practices and methods are employed by Indian bakers with an Indian sense of jugard, which means “to manage.” There was plenty of Western equipment that I am used to: baking tins, loaf pans, an industrial stand mixer, large rolling pins, and last but not least, an industrial oven that I immediately fell in love with. Yet at the same time, the employees make do without some things that I consider necessary for commercial baking. The best example was when Mr. Sood was frosting and decorating a simple birthday cake. In place of the standard baker’s piping bag, he rolled up a piece of newspaper into a cone, cut off the tip and filled it with colored frosting. Awesome! No, it’s not the most hygienic of piping bags, but it certainly is the coolest I’ve ever seen.
This is also the first food operation I’ve seen where necessary waste is okay and acceptable. Standard operating procedure in India is to respect the food, but when you want to frost a cake nicely, you have to cut off the edges to make them nice and smooth. I was afraid that Mr. Sood would go the Indian route when frosting the cake, but my fears were needless, He trimmed the sides. Good for him!
More examples of globalization could be seen in the use of bakery margarine, shortening, and specialty baking tools. More examples of Indian flair could be seen in tin bake ware instead of aluminum or stainless steel, eggless cake mixes to satisfy the vegetarian population in the area, and multiple recipes that were made without weighing ingredients. This place was a great exploration and a wonderful visit, but even I didn’t expect to see such a good example of the effects of globalization. Everything about this place, the fact that it provides foreign-inspired baked goods, is a foreign influence, but it still manages to be very successful in the face of picky, inflexible Indian taste buds. I was very impressed by the whole operation, and even more impressed that Mr. Sood started the business 12 years ago with no experience and has managed to be very successful, despite all odds. What are the chances?
Just 20 minutes after my arrival, Mr. Sood asked me if I would like to bake anything to teach him a new recipe. Well, I had gotten so accustomed to not being able to use an oven that I was at a loss for ideas, until he mentioned trying a brownie recipe the previous week with no success. Luckily, the brownie doctor was in the house, and I just so happened to have a recipe with me that I tried at KLB a couple of times. Those times, making them using shoddy equipment and a lousy oven was a test of my patience and ingenuity. But this time, the brownies came together like a dream. No hesitation, no complications, because every ingredient was already on hand and there was more than enough specialized baking equipment to keep me happy for awhile. Baking brownies today was just like baking at home. It took less than 10 minutes to put together the batter and get it in the oven. Doing the same thing at KLB takes at least three times as long.
I was a little sad to have to go, but Mr. Sood assured me that I could come back any time during work hours to use his oven. Maybe I’ll try an American-style cake next time. It’d sure be an improvement over the tasteless faux-cakes that I’ve had here so far.
The best part about the whole day was the moment that I walked into the premises of the bakery. A familiar smell hit me right in the face, one to which I had grown accustomed last semester when I worked at MSU’s bakery on campus: yeast. A lot of it. Some people say that there’s nothing like the smell of baking a loaf of bread in your house. I disagree. That smell is easily rivaled by the scent produced by baking about a hundred loaves of bread at a time. There’s nothing like it. It’s an overwhelming smell of delicious bread fermentation that you can’t get anywhere else but at a commercial bakery, and as soon as it found its way into my nostrils, I knew that I was going to have a good day.
Krishna Bakery is owned and operated by a Mr. Ajay Sood, who has no formal training but 12 years of experience. He speaks pretty good English and runs an even better operation. It’s quite small by American standards, with only 4 employees on the payroll, but it’s just the right size for a small place like Palampur. Mr. Sood’s bakery was a literal smash-up of east and west, a perfect example of globalization. I have mentioned before that North Indian cuisine requires very little baking and hasn’t really needed ovens for the past 5000 years, so any bakery in India, by its very existence, is a tribute to globalization. It’s a place where Western practices and methods are employed by Indian bakers with an Indian sense of jugard, which means “to manage.” There was plenty of Western equipment that I am used to: baking tins, loaf pans, an industrial stand mixer, large rolling pins, and last but not least, an industrial oven that I immediately fell in love with. Yet at the same time, the employees make do without some things that I consider necessary for commercial baking. The best example was when Mr. Sood was frosting and decorating a simple birthday cake. In place of the standard baker’s piping bag, he rolled up a piece of newspaper into a cone, cut off the tip and filled it with colored frosting. Awesome! No, it’s not the most hygienic of piping bags, but it certainly is the coolest I’ve ever seen.
This is also the first food operation I’ve seen where necessary waste is okay and acceptable. Standard operating procedure in India is to respect the food, but when you want to frost a cake nicely, you have to cut off the edges to make them nice and smooth. I was afraid that Mr. Sood would go the Indian route when frosting the cake, but my fears were needless, He trimmed the sides. Good for him!
More examples of globalization could be seen in the use of bakery margarine, shortening, and specialty baking tools. More examples of Indian flair could be seen in tin bake ware instead of aluminum or stainless steel, eggless cake mixes to satisfy the vegetarian population in the area, and multiple recipes that were made without weighing ingredients. This place was a great exploration and a wonderful visit, but even I didn’t expect to see such a good example of the effects of globalization. Everything about this place, the fact that it provides foreign-inspired baked goods, is a foreign influence, but it still manages to be very successful in the face of picky, inflexible Indian taste buds. I was very impressed by the whole operation, and even more impressed that Mr. Sood started the business 12 years ago with no experience and has managed to be very successful, despite all odds. What are the chances?
Just 20 minutes after my arrival, Mr. Sood asked me if I would like to bake anything to teach him a new recipe. Well, I had gotten so accustomed to not being able to use an oven that I was at a loss for ideas, until he mentioned trying a brownie recipe the previous week with no success. Luckily, the brownie doctor was in the house, and I just so happened to have a recipe with me that I tried at KLB a couple of times. Those times, making them using shoddy equipment and a lousy oven was a test of my patience and ingenuity. But this time, the brownies came together like a dream. No hesitation, no complications, because every ingredient was already on hand and there was more than enough specialized baking equipment to keep me happy for awhile. Baking brownies today was just like baking at home. It took less than 10 minutes to put together the batter and get it in the oven. Doing the same thing at KLB takes at least three times as long.
I was a little sad to have to go, but Mr. Sood assured me that I could come back any time during work hours to use his oven. Maybe I’ll try an American-style cake next time. It’d sure be an improvement over the tasteless faux-cakes that I’ve had here so far.
26 March 2010
Put That in Your Tuition Bill and Pay It
Ah, I love picking out my new classes. Yes, I’m kind of a nerd, but I’ve come to terms with that long ago, right about the time I picked up my super-duper decoder ring and went to the honors college ball (I’m not kidding about that second one, unfortunately). It gives me a kind of thrill to look at a list of classes and choose what knowledge I get to receive in the following year. Do I learn about culture or politics? Language or sociology? Swimming or pottery? It’s my future that I’m deciding, and it’s really fun to have an active say in the education that will become an important part of who I am. But by far, the best part is that this time, I’m picking my last classes. That’s right: in December, I will finish my B.A. in International Studies. Watch out world, here I come!
Even better than that is the fact that I only have 3 more classes, 9 credits total, to finish. That’s it. I won’t even count as a full-time student. I might only have to go to campus 2 or 3 days in a week. Does that rock or what? True, there is a part of me that doesn’t want to end, and not even because I don’t want to trade in the (sort of) carefree college life for a 9 to 5 and my somewhat active social life. I know that there’s more that MSU has to offer, and I want to take advantage of whatever that may be. For example, there’s a class called Language and Culture that I have had my eye on for the past two years but have been unable to take it for various circumstances. I’m talking to my advisor right now to see if I can substitute that class for another one of my requirements, so my fingers are crossed for that. However, it’s only a small part of me that will miss MSU. The greater part of me wants to blow this elaborate Popsicle stand called higher education and never look back.
In perusing MSU’s website for class information, I stumbled across some rather depressing statistics that were compiled as of 2001. Out of a cohort of incoming MSU freshman, 1/3 of them will not graduate in less than 6 years, either because they take longer than that to finish courses, they transfer to a different institution and finish their degree elsewhere, or they simply don’t graduate. Another 1/3 will graduate in 6 years. And only 1/3 will graduate in 4 years or less, which has long been considered the standard timeframe of college education. It looks like that is changing significantly. I should add that this is all worded very nicely, all PC-like, on the front page of the portal that students use to register for classes. Talking about stetting one up to be disappointed. It’s like the administration is telling the students to not expect to graduate in the timeframe they had originally expected. Welcome to MSU, now lower your standards a bit.
Maybe this is why going to college is becoming such an up-in-the-air for young people nowadays. Why spend about a hundred grand in some cases, spending upwards of 5 years in boring classes learning things you don’t need to know or even care about, to get a degree that might not get you anywhere? With the economy the way it is, even bachelor’s degrees don’t quite cut it anymore. One must spend even more money and more time to get a master’s or doctorate degree to get a decent, stable job. It’s not the way it always was, that’s for sure. My mom tells me stories of when she was in nursing school at the University of Michigan. She finished in less than 4 years and spent about 400 dollars each semester on tuition. For all of her classes. That’s ridiculous. I spend more than that on a single credit at MSU, and that’s a public university.
Why bring this up? Because I believe that it’s starting to develop into a similar situation in India, at least from what I’ve seen. Parents send their kids to schools not based on how good the schools are, but how much one spends on tuition. Actual education doesn’t seem to be important at all. As long as you pass the exams and show up to class for three years, you get a degree and a qualification that you can put on your resume. Yes, only three years, because every student in each degree takes exactly the same classes as every other student in their program. It’s like an automated assembly line for the mind. Young adults are just going to school because their parents want them to, and companies are hiring students based on tests scores. There’s no incentive to learn here, just to spend money and get a piece of paper with an institution’s name on it that says you’re a well-qualified worker. If it keeps going on like this, higher education, both in the U.S. and India, will become less and less valued, right along with actual knowledge. No wonder why the apes outsmart us in the future.
I am happy to say that by some luck and some more hard work, I get to be one of the lucky ones who graduates in 3 ½ years, but so what? I can completely understand the theoretical value of a college degree, and I’m glad I did the work, but if the rest of the world continues to devalue education and learning, there’s really no point, is there? One might as well not go to college. Go to India instead. It’s cheaper than the states and the food is better.
Even better than that is the fact that I only have 3 more classes, 9 credits total, to finish. That’s it. I won’t even count as a full-time student. I might only have to go to campus 2 or 3 days in a week. Does that rock or what? True, there is a part of me that doesn’t want to end, and not even because I don’t want to trade in the (sort of) carefree college life for a 9 to 5 and my somewhat active social life. I know that there’s more that MSU has to offer, and I want to take advantage of whatever that may be. For example, there’s a class called Language and Culture that I have had my eye on for the past two years but have been unable to take it for various circumstances. I’m talking to my advisor right now to see if I can substitute that class for another one of my requirements, so my fingers are crossed for that. However, it’s only a small part of me that will miss MSU. The greater part of me wants to blow this elaborate Popsicle stand called higher education and never look back.
In perusing MSU’s website for class information, I stumbled across some rather depressing statistics that were compiled as of 2001. Out of a cohort of incoming MSU freshman, 1/3 of them will not graduate in less than 6 years, either because they take longer than that to finish courses, they transfer to a different institution and finish their degree elsewhere, or they simply don’t graduate. Another 1/3 will graduate in 6 years. And only 1/3 will graduate in 4 years or less, which has long been considered the standard timeframe of college education. It looks like that is changing significantly. I should add that this is all worded very nicely, all PC-like, on the front page of the portal that students use to register for classes. Talking about stetting one up to be disappointed. It’s like the administration is telling the students to not expect to graduate in the timeframe they had originally expected. Welcome to MSU, now lower your standards a bit.
Maybe this is why going to college is becoming such an up-in-the-air for young people nowadays. Why spend about a hundred grand in some cases, spending upwards of 5 years in boring classes learning things you don’t need to know or even care about, to get a degree that might not get you anywhere? With the economy the way it is, even bachelor’s degrees don’t quite cut it anymore. One must spend even more money and more time to get a master’s or doctorate degree to get a decent, stable job. It’s not the way it always was, that’s for sure. My mom tells me stories of when she was in nursing school at the University of Michigan. She finished in less than 4 years and spent about 400 dollars each semester on tuition. For all of her classes. That’s ridiculous. I spend more than that on a single credit at MSU, and that’s a public university.
Why bring this up? Because I believe that it’s starting to develop into a similar situation in India, at least from what I’ve seen. Parents send their kids to schools not based on how good the schools are, but how much one spends on tuition. Actual education doesn’t seem to be important at all. As long as you pass the exams and show up to class for three years, you get a degree and a qualification that you can put on your resume. Yes, only three years, because every student in each degree takes exactly the same classes as every other student in their program. It’s like an automated assembly line for the mind. Young adults are just going to school because their parents want them to, and companies are hiring students based on tests scores. There’s no incentive to learn here, just to spend money and get a piece of paper with an institution’s name on it that says you’re a well-qualified worker. If it keeps going on like this, higher education, both in the U.S. and India, will become less and less valued, right along with actual knowledge. No wonder why the apes outsmart us in the future.
I am happy to say that by some luck and some more hard work, I get to be one of the lucky ones who graduates in 3 ½ years, but so what? I can completely understand the theoretical value of a college degree, and I’m glad I did the work, but if the rest of the world continues to devalue education and learning, there’s really no point, is there? One might as well not go to college. Go to India instead. It’s cheaper than the states and the food is better.
25 March 2010
Get Your Stinking Paws Off My Vegetables, You Damn Dirty Apes!
I’m starting to think that days off are kind of funny. They don’t really make sense. Even when people are doing a job that they love and don’t mind going to work at all, they still enjoy their days off and look forward to them. I used to think that was dumb, and that I would never be that way. Yet here I am on my day off in India, a place where every day feels like a day off, and I’m really enjoying. What the hell is wrong with me?
Every day at “work” for me is an exercise in patience. Yes, it’s work, and I do actually get some important things done, but certainly not for 8 hours a day. I break at least twice for tea, and often find myself looking for something else to do. And that’s perfectly normal. For example, most of the teachers at KLB work a 4-hour day, and they don’t even teach for the whole time. They get to work between 10 and 11 and leave at 3, but by no means do they have class during all that time. Probably half. The rest of the time they just sit on benches outside and chat with each other until it’s time to sign out. I was raised with a Midwestern work ethic and feel like a waste of space when I don’t have a part time job, so sometimes seeing these teachers do so little work really frustrates me. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Today is a school holiday, so I knew a couple of days ahead of time that I wouldn’t be coming into work. Two months ago I would have been bored out of my mind staying at home all day with nothing to do. Not anymore. I looked forward to my day off, even though work is like a day off every day anyway. So what is it that I was really looking forward to about my day off? Well, I wouldn’t have to walk several kilometers that day to get to and from work. I love walking, but a day off from that would be nice. I got some extra time to make more Monkey Balls again. I exercised. I read a book. I had tea with Mrs. Singh. I watched another one of the movies that I had purchased last week. I got a visit from Atul. And for a few moments throughout the day, I did absolutely nothing. Surprisingly, I loved it.
Man, India is really getting to me.
So are the monkeys. While having tea with Mrs. Singh, we were interrupted several times and I had to go out into the garden. Why? Because rhesus macaques were eating her vegetables and I had to scare them away. About ten times in an hour. Normally their guard dog, Hira, takes care of that, but she was in her pen while I was visiting. She doesn’t like me. She tries to bite me when I visit. Well fine, I don’t like her either. Anyway, the monkeys never learn. They’re supposed to be so damn smart, but every time I shoo them off, they just keep coming back for more. Don’t they know that I’m watching them?
When I was a kid, just like every other American boy, I always wanted a monkey as a pet. I now know that it’s the result of underexposure to them. There are no monkeys indigenous to North America, so the only time we see them are in zoos and on the Discovery Channel. And Ross had a pet monkey on Friends. Naturally, we want them around more, because what we see of them is very attractive to young boys (or immature adults, like myself): it’s a little furry person that does tricks and has fingers. What’s not to like?
Last semester I took an anthropology class that focused on primatology for part of the semester, and I loved it. I even learned about a certain species of monkey in Brazil called the capuchin monkey that I am now very fond of because it can cook. Really! Is that not the most awesome thing you’ve ever heard? Allow me to clarify. These monkeys know how to find a certain fruit from the trees and pick it only when it is ripe. Then they knock the fruit, which has a very tough exterior like a coconut, off the tree. These fruits are then collected and placed in an area exposed to the sun, where the monkeys leave them to dry several days. This makes the small seeds inside the fruit tastier. But still, the monkeys need to get to the seeds, and to do that, they bring the tough fruits to certain rocks that the monkeys have worked on for some time. These rocks have concave surfaces that make perfect work areas for opening stubborn fruits. The monkeys them slam the hard shells against these rocks over and over again, until they hit it just right, crack the shell, and unlock the deliciousness within. Now that is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. These monkeys are expending hours of work and several days of forethought just to get at a tiny piece of food, only because it tastes good. Before you know it, I’ll be working in a restaurant and be able to hire a monkey as a sous chef. They’re going to be that smart someday.
Unfortunately, my love of monkeys is only from TV and class. The truth isn’t as fun. Since coming to India, I don’t want a monkey anymore. They’re a huge pain in the butt. They steal your food, eat your crops, attack your dog, hide the remote, and generally cause a great mess of things. I can see why Charlton Heston hated them so much, but as for me, they don’t need to enslave humans to be trouble. They’re annoying enough as it is.
Every day at “work” for me is an exercise in patience. Yes, it’s work, and I do actually get some important things done, but certainly not for 8 hours a day. I break at least twice for tea, and often find myself looking for something else to do. And that’s perfectly normal. For example, most of the teachers at KLB work a 4-hour day, and they don’t even teach for the whole time. They get to work between 10 and 11 and leave at 3, but by no means do they have class during all that time. Probably half. The rest of the time they just sit on benches outside and chat with each other until it’s time to sign out. I was raised with a Midwestern work ethic and feel like a waste of space when I don’t have a part time job, so sometimes seeing these teachers do so little work really frustrates me. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
Today is a school holiday, so I knew a couple of days ahead of time that I wouldn’t be coming into work. Two months ago I would have been bored out of my mind staying at home all day with nothing to do. Not anymore. I looked forward to my day off, even though work is like a day off every day anyway. So what is it that I was really looking forward to about my day off? Well, I wouldn’t have to walk several kilometers that day to get to and from work. I love walking, but a day off from that would be nice. I got some extra time to make more Monkey Balls again. I exercised. I read a book. I had tea with Mrs. Singh. I watched another one of the movies that I had purchased last week. I got a visit from Atul. And for a few moments throughout the day, I did absolutely nothing. Surprisingly, I loved it.
Man, India is really getting to me.
So are the monkeys. While having tea with Mrs. Singh, we were interrupted several times and I had to go out into the garden. Why? Because rhesus macaques were eating her vegetables and I had to scare them away. About ten times in an hour. Normally their guard dog, Hira, takes care of that, but she was in her pen while I was visiting. She doesn’t like me. She tries to bite me when I visit. Well fine, I don’t like her either. Anyway, the monkeys never learn. They’re supposed to be so damn smart, but every time I shoo them off, they just keep coming back for more. Don’t they know that I’m watching them?
When I was a kid, just like every other American boy, I always wanted a monkey as a pet. I now know that it’s the result of underexposure to them. There are no monkeys indigenous to North America, so the only time we see them are in zoos and on the Discovery Channel. And Ross had a pet monkey on Friends. Naturally, we want them around more, because what we see of them is very attractive to young boys (or immature adults, like myself): it’s a little furry person that does tricks and has fingers. What’s not to like?
Last semester I took an anthropology class that focused on primatology for part of the semester, and I loved it. I even learned about a certain species of monkey in Brazil called the capuchin monkey that I am now very fond of because it can cook. Really! Is that not the most awesome thing you’ve ever heard? Allow me to clarify. These monkeys know how to find a certain fruit from the trees and pick it only when it is ripe. Then they knock the fruit, which has a very tough exterior like a coconut, off the tree. These fruits are then collected and placed in an area exposed to the sun, where the monkeys leave them to dry several days. This makes the small seeds inside the fruit tastier. But still, the monkeys need to get to the seeds, and to do that, they bring the tough fruits to certain rocks that the monkeys have worked on for some time. These rocks have concave surfaces that make perfect work areas for opening stubborn fruits. The monkeys them slam the hard shells against these rocks over and over again, until they hit it just right, crack the shell, and unlock the deliciousness within. Now that is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. These monkeys are expending hours of work and several days of forethought just to get at a tiny piece of food, only because it tastes good. Before you know it, I’ll be working in a restaurant and be able to hire a monkey as a sous chef. They’re going to be that smart someday.
Unfortunately, my love of monkeys is only from TV and class. The truth isn’t as fun. Since coming to India, I don’t want a monkey anymore. They’re a huge pain in the butt. They steal your food, eat your crops, attack your dog, hide the remote, and generally cause a great mess of things. I can see why Charlton Heston hated them so much, but as for me, they don’t need to enslave humans to be trouble. They’re annoying enough as it is.
23 March 2010
Ram Navami
Another holiday? Another religious festival? Another day off school (during exams, nonetheless)? Seriously people, this is getting kind of ridiculous.
For the past 8 days and ending tomorrow, 24 March, Hindus around here have been celebrating Ram Navami, which is the birthday of Lord Rama. Funny thing is, I actually know about this guy. It was one thing that I didn’t have to look up on Wikipedia before I wrote the blog. Go me! But contrary to the other festivals that I have seen so far, this one, while joyous, is a bit more somber in celebration. No drugs and no throwing colors. Many people have performed selective fasting for the past nine days, which includes no alcohol, meat, eggs, onions, ginger and garlic. Basically, if it tastes good, you can’t eat it. Well, you shouldn’t eat it, not necessarily can’t. Sounds like Catholicism. I’ve never been really good at fasting. Instead, I try to stick to the principal of “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”
I have heard of Rama from the Ramayana, a famous Hindu epic story that involves nearly all the gods, but focuses on Rama and his wife Sita. One day, Sita was captured by Ravana, who’s really not a good guy. Nobody likes him, which is maybe why he had to capture a woman at all. Really, though, he did it because he’s jelous of Rama, who everybody likes. That’s how I interpreted it, anyway.
Rama is rather upset at the kidnapping of his beloved wife, so he enlisted the help of the god Hanuman, who is one of my favorites, to find and retrieve her. Hanuman is the monkey god in Hindu mythology, and he is depicted as a superhero. There’s even a kids cartoon about him where he really is a superhero, flying around and saving people. I’ve also noticed that in depictions of him, he is quite well muscled, compared to the soft, beautiful bodies of nearly every other god that I’ve seen. It contrasts with Greek mythology, where every god and statue of them is the epitome of human perfection, perfectly muscled, perfectly proportioned, and completely unrealistic by most human physiques. Hindu gods seem to be more down-to earth and attainable by comparison. At least they don’t have such high standards of perfection. Food for thought.
To find Sita, Hanuman enlists the help of his monkey army. They find her, he defeats Ravana, and all is happy. To this day, there is a certain species of langurs (monkeys, for those of you who didn’t have to memorize primate taxonomy last semester) in the Indian subcontinent that is still worshipped by people for their help in bringing the universe back into order. They’re called Hanuman langurs now, and they’re kind of blue and funny-looking. Google them, you’ll get a laugh.
It’s all made me think of how the Hindu religion, unlike many other religions that I’m used to, connects so much of its faith to things that are real and observable, not unattainable. Like monkeys and your figure, there’s always something about Hinduism that’s easily relatable. If nothing else, it’s a really good religion for the people.
For the past 8 days and ending tomorrow, 24 March, Hindus around here have been celebrating Ram Navami, which is the birthday of Lord Rama. Funny thing is, I actually know about this guy. It was one thing that I didn’t have to look up on Wikipedia before I wrote the blog. Go me! But contrary to the other festivals that I have seen so far, this one, while joyous, is a bit more somber in celebration. No drugs and no throwing colors. Many people have performed selective fasting for the past nine days, which includes no alcohol, meat, eggs, onions, ginger and garlic. Basically, if it tastes good, you can’t eat it. Well, you shouldn’t eat it, not necessarily can’t. Sounds like Catholicism. I’ve never been really good at fasting. Instead, I try to stick to the principal of “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”
I have heard of Rama from the Ramayana, a famous Hindu epic story that involves nearly all the gods, but focuses on Rama and his wife Sita. One day, Sita was captured by Ravana, who’s really not a good guy. Nobody likes him, which is maybe why he had to capture a woman at all. Really, though, he did it because he’s jelous of Rama, who everybody likes. That’s how I interpreted it, anyway.
Rama is rather upset at the kidnapping of his beloved wife, so he enlisted the help of the god Hanuman, who is one of my favorites, to find and retrieve her. Hanuman is the monkey god in Hindu mythology, and he is depicted as a superhero. There’s even a kids cartoon about him where he really is a superhero, flying around and saving people. I’ve also noticed that in depictions of him, he is quite well muscled, compared to the soft, beautiful bodies of nearly every other god that I’ve seen. It contrasts with Greek mythology, where every god and statue of them is the epitome of human perfection, perfectly muscled, perfectly proportioned, and completely unrealistic by most human physiques. Hindu gods seem to be more down-to earth and attainable by comparison. At least they don’t have such high standards of perfection. Food for thought.
To find Sita, Hanuman enlists the help of his monkey army. They find her, he defeats Ravana, and all is happy. To this day, there is a certain species of langurs (monkeys, for those of you who didn’t have to memorize primate taxonomy last semester) in the Indian subcontinent that is still worshipped by people for their help in bringing the universe back into order. They’re called Hanuman langurs now, and they’re kind of blue and funny-looking. Google them, you’ll get a laugh.
It’s all made me think of how the Hindu religion, unlike many other religions that I’m used to, connects so much of its faith to things that are real and observable, not unattainable. Like monkeys and your figure, there’s always something about Hinduism that’s easily relatable. If nothing else, it’s a really good religion for the people.
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