Showing posts with label Luke West Internship Blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke West Internship Blog. Show all posts

Monday, July 6, 2015

Internship Blog: Luke West Post #5

Living Luxuriously


“With $5,000 in India, you can live like a king for six months.”

India is cheap.  Like really cheap.  I was told before I came that the cost of living was considerably less than the US.  Sure, I understood. Things cost a little less; a dollar can stretch further.

 Understatement of the century.

When I first got to India I set aside $200 for my spending money.  Hopefully, this would cover going to eat, buying groceries, cabs and other miscellaneous expenses.   Once exchanged to Indian Rupees,  it came out to a little less than ₹13,000.

I have a currency converter on my phone and it is pretty easy to estimate prices with $1 = ₹60, however, the first couple weeks were kind of busy.  I was so preoccupied with the sights and sounds and new experiences that I was the least concerned about how much I was spending.

After about 2 or 3 weeks in, I realized I barely even made a dent in my spending money.  I looked at my stack of rupees and almost all of it was still there.  “How is this possible?” I thought.  Ever since, I have been paying much more attention to prices and the value of items and various other things associated with the cost of living in India.  It is pretty staggering.

A typical meal from a small, fast food-like hotel (read: restaurant) costs about ₹100 rupees or less, or a buck and some change.

A meal from a “nicer” sit-down, usually A/C restaurant will cost about ₹250 or about $4.

A 1l bottle of water is ₹20 or about 30 cents.

A 16oz bottle of coke is around ₹35 or 50 cents.

A cup of tea (chai) is usually ₹10.

An uber across the city is maybe $2.

Tickets to the evening showing of jurassic world, slightly over $2.

One of the first things I did was go to the grocery store.  I bought eggs, milk, bread, cereal, some snacks, some fruit, some pop.  A list that would usually cost around $30 dollars in the US was not even $10.  I put ₹150 on my Indian mobile hoping it would be enough to cover the calls/texts I make here; 5 weeks later and I’ve barely touched ₹30 rupees worth.  It is insane. Everyday items are so inexpensive.

I am writing this from a trip to Hyderabad. I am currently staying an wealthy area of the city in an apartment rented by two Americans, Kate and Justin, who are friends of friends of Varghese. The apartment is absolutely massive.  I believe it was already furnished, but it one large open area with two sitting spaces and huge kitchen, two balconies. Attached are 3 massive bedrooms each with a balcony and a bath. This type of place would cost thousands in the US, especially being in a wealthy part of the city. Kate and Justin are both doctors so I’m sure the money wasn’t an issue but I was curious as to what they paid for rent.

35,000 rupees a month. May seem like a lot, but it’s not. It’s shy of $600. It’s insane. $600 can’t get you a bathroom in parts of Pittsburgh. It’s actually less than my small apartment in Friendship. To an average American it’s pretty normal rent. To those with money, it’s a steal. To Indians, it’s unaffordable.

In fact, the only thing I’ve noticed here that Is more expensive than the US is gas which, after some conversions, comes out somewhere in the 4$/gallon range. Alcohol is fairly comparable to the US. A beer is about $3-$4. Other than that it’s crazy.

One thing I have noticed though is, like everything else in the world, it all adds up. If you keep doing the conversions and thinking how inexpensive everything is, you’ll run out of money. I’ve heard this from many other foreigners here and seen it myself.

The sad part is, the above is of course only true for us privileged outsiders. For the average Indian, food, housing, entertainment is expensive. Indians are very proud people. They work extremely hard for their income, which is generally low.

Labor is so cheap here it’s insane. Almost every nicer restaurant I’ve seen is over staffed to a crazy degree. Here in Hyderabad they recently got their first Starbucks. It’s in the wealthy area if town and I figured I would check it out. It was the biggest I’ve seen with two huge floors, everything brand new and nice. The different part was the staff. It was 10 at night and they close at 1030. There were maybe 15 customers served by at least 10 employees. They weren’t busy and about to close yet still had all these people working. 5 guys behind the counter, one walking around explaining the types of coffee to customers, one offering to try a freshly baked brownie, one giving a demonstration of some kind and others just standing around. It’s weird. The same is true for nice restaurants as well. They’re are so many waiters and hosts and guys standing there looking attentive but don’t do anything it’s actually overwhelming.

The point is, these people can’t be paid much at all. It’s sad. Labor is so cheap businesses don’t care to cut hours or limit workers, they just over staff and over staff.

I’m sitting here talking about the life of luxury an American can live with a few thousand dollars while most Indians won’t see that much in a year. And I’ve been talking mostly about wealthy areas in Hyderabad, not the millions and millions and Indians living outside the wealthy areas, outside of cities, and in the poor rural villages and towns. They’re lucky to see that much in a lifetime.

It’s great but humbling at the same time. Just like all of India. The disparities between westernization and tradition, being liberal and conservative, between developed and underdeveloped, and between rich and poor are the most noticeable things in this country. And it’s these issues that the country is struggling with and will come to define it over the next few decades.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Internship Blog: Luke West Post #4

Internet and Stuff



Ah, to the age before internet. What did we do?  Since my last post, I spent six consecutive, solitary and isolated days without the all-powerful and all-knowing that is the internet.  This happened because I went on a trip away from the friendly confines of Bangalore to a town of roughly equal size in Hyderabad, about an 8 hour bus ride north.  Going in I didn’t realize I wouldn’t have internet, but the thought of not having it didn’t really bother me.  A nice relaxing time to clear your mind and not worry about the world afar, but focus on the world around you. Sure, it sounds nice, and was, for about the first 24 hours.

Then reality set it. No updates on the Buccos (who I’m glad are playing well), no Stanley Cup finals highlights, no newborn babies or wedding announcements (gag) on Facebook. No Netflix, no HBO, no news, no random google searches.  It’s amazing how many times I wanted to quickly google something on my phone, or check the weather, or look at a map, only to be disappointed. In the rather slow and boring pace I’ve come accustomed to since I’ve been here, the internet is my only slice of sanity.  Being away from friends and family and people to interact with, the internet and its updates I’ve, regrettably, started to cling to. It’s one thing when you’re out camping or something similar where you knowingly shut yourself off from the outside world. It’s another when everyone else around has wifi or 3g or 4g and you’re stuck in the 90s.

One positive I will take from the experience is that I managed to read, a lot. I’ve been reading a ton since I got here, there isn’t too much else to do besides peruse the internet and watch Netflix.  Without the internet for six days I actually managed to read a book and a half, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, excellent, and most of Cat’s Cradle by  Kurt Vonnegut, excellent as well. I already finished Graham Greene’s Orient Express and am deciding whether to start Moby-Dick or The Three Musketeers. If you can’t tell I like classics, and what a better opportunity to read them than by being here. The absence of internet made it wonderful to read. But again, only for so long. Any reading I’ve done over the past 10 years have been in small spurts between TV and/or Internet sessions or before bed. Having reading as the only form of entertainment is, different.  It sort of brought me into some of the older books, when this really was the only form of personal entertainment.  I did have my phone still, not like anyone can contact me though, and I have gotten really good at Spider solitaire and Golf solitaire and managed to snap a few pictures inbetween.

OK, Internet and technology complaining aside, my six day trip to Hyderabad was actually very interesting.  I could write three more paragraphs on the trip, but I digress. First off, Hyderabad was one of the worst hit of the recent heat wave. Fortunately, it eased the day before we arrived, but it was still hot. We were there to do what Varghese has been doing for 15 years which is leadership and development workshops.  The participants here were members/volunteers of a Christian leadership group called Inter Collegiate Prayer Fellowship (ICPF).  They were a great, fun, funny and interesting group of guys from all over Southern India. What they and ICPF do is work with troubled university aged kids to help them overcome problems of addiction, stress, relationships, etc. through Christianity.  Our goal was to facilitate a workshop covering the basic themes of leadership, peace building, problem solving, communication, cooperation and teamwork.  The sessions of the four day program involved incorporating these themes through various activities, games, songs, prayers, and discussions aimed both at the participants, but also so that the participants can use them for their own work with teens.

The workshop and the ICPF guys were a blast, we stayed in one of the member’s apartment where everyone enjoyed authentic Indian meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A quick trip to the ER and a couple of injections later I learned of my first ever allergy, mangoes (which is a shame because they are delicious and sold on every street corner). I had my first truly authentic Chicken Briyani, a dish common in India but native to Hyderabad, which is chicken that is slow cooked within the rice both full of flavors and spices.  We concluded the trip with a day a relaxation with friends of Varghese, I had another allergic reaction to mangoes, and then we took another overnight bus back to Bangalore. Bangalore, with its cool, cool temperature of like 90 (seriously it’s much nicer than Hyderabad, but I’m still sweating as I write this) and it’s glorious wifi.

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Friday is a trip to a rural village outside of southern town called Salem.  With my fellow volunteer/intern “My dad ate the ‘e'” Stanly, we’re to visit a school to help write a grant proposal and also visit a leper hospital. The latter of which I’m excited and sort of nervous. I mean, leprosy is still a thing? First world problems.

This was a rambling blog post as the power has been out and it is dark and I had to do something before my computer dies and I’m left in total isolation.  Also, power outages are daily occurrence in India and can last from a few minutes to well over an hour like this one. END.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Internship Blog: Luke West, Post #3

Atithi Devo Bhav

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I’ve been in India for officially one week and all that I can say is, I’m tired of eating.  No, I’m not tired of eating Indian food. I’m tired of eating. In general. It is almost all that I’ve been doing over these past seven days and I’m getting sick of it.  image
Before I came, I figured being in India for two months would be a great opportunity for me to drop some lbs, kilos, and work on that beach bod when I get back. Yeah, right. Not that I thought for a second I would ever go hungry, but I figured I would be eating unfamiliar things in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people and so on.  From the second I landed until now, food has been always and everywhere in between.
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“Atithi Devo Bhav,” or Sanskrit for ‘The guest is equivalent to God’ (I looked this up, I know no Sanskrit or any of the 4-5 languages most people here speak). This basically means that you not only offer, but feed your guest as much as possible, even if they politely refuse. Especially if they politely refuse.  The question of “Are you hungry?” is solely rhetorical.  And, of course, it is very rude not to eat if someone puts a plate down in front of you. I believe that is the same in all cultures.
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My hosts, Varghese and Reeba, are wonderful people in every way possible. Not only do they run this organization on their own, they do so from their home as well. They are my hosts, and excellent at that.  Excellent, also, at preparing three meals a day, plus snacks in between. So what this means for me is that I’m eating (take notes mom) full meals of breakfast, lunch, and dinner daily. Back home I barely put together two. When I was in college, I was lucky to get past one.
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Sure, it seemed fine at first. Someone preparing for me three meals a day? Hell yeah.  But when it is day after day, three unrefusable meals, even if you’ve recently eaten? Hell no. Fortunately, it is not anywhere else in India right now, where the temperature has been well above 100 and thousands of people dying from heatstroke and dehydration.  But it is still hot, with the temperature floating around the 90 mark.  Being hot and sweaty, the last thing you want is to eat a filling meal. Well, at least for me. These people love it.
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Food is the national pastime in India and important both socially and culturally. Especially here in Bangalore, where the IT industry has brought people from all over India together and food can be a way of remembering home. A rather universal idea. In fact, tomorrow we’re putting on a children’s cooking show to inform some kids the importance of cooking, working together, expressing yourself and that cooking can be for boys too (traditionally women cook for the men and many parents don’t want their boys in the kitchen). And most of what I’ve had is wonderful.  Dosas, rice biryani, chicken kabab, fried rice, so many kinds of rice, yogurt and cucumber salad (like a tzaztiki and one of my favorites, probably because it is light and refreshing), all sorts of breads, pancakes, waffles, ice cream, chips, chutney, curry, sambra, fresh guava, jackfruit, sapodilla, lasse, tea, coffee and more kabab. Everything is new and fresh and tasteful. And I’ve only had a taste of what this place has to offer.
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We always hear in America that we are fat and overweight.  Which we are, oh, god, we are. But if you’re not dirt poor in India, you are not far behind.  Everyone that I’ve been around here has a belly. Most of the food is carbs or oily and there are restaurants everywhere when a full three meals at home cannot be prepared.  I don’t have many complaints so far here (I had an upset stomach one night). So, I’m going to complain about eating too much. I guess it could be a lot worse. But so much for that beach bod.
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Also, I like to eat my food and not take pictures of it so I don’t have many pics that would make this post look more… appetizing. Above is me eating corn flakes with warm milk because that’s the way it comes before you open it. Actually the worst thing I’ve had so far. Oh, and I was, of course, forced to eat an actual breakfast soon afterwards.

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Internship Blog: Luke West, Post #2

Bloggers

I hate bloggers. I don’t know exactly what it is, probably the narcissistic and self-conceited people that usually write them.  Do you really need to tell the world you’re a vegan?  Wow! You don’t eat gluten and feel great? Excuse me while I devour this hamburger.  The only people I dislike more than bloggers are the work-out freaks on facebook, posting their daily routines and green shakes. You don’t look healthy, you look sickley. Especially the ones who feel the need to apply 14 cans of bronzer and “compete.” I’d rather be a vegan. I knew a blogger girl pretty well once.  I’ve never met anyone more into herself.  Although now she is almost a doctor, and a year younger than me, so maybe I’m on to something.

No, I’m blogging ony for a few reasons.  For one, I’ve was contemplating it for this trip, mainly because how many people get to experience India? For my family and friends, it is a great way to relate my trip.  As you all know, I’m not the best at “expressing myself” to others or telling stories, so this is a great way.  Plus it’ll help me remember some of the daily happenings that I’ll probably forget by the time I’m home.  Secondly, I recently received an email from Pitt asking if I’d like to blog my intership for current and prospective students. The third, and probably main, reason I’m writing this is beceause it is a great way to practice writing.  I hate writing, and the only form I ever partake in is for academic papers. And I’m admittedly not that great.  The only way to improve is to practice. So this blog, is a avenue for me to practice writing.  Maybe I can eventually be on the level of my peers at Pitt, of whom many are brillant, hard working readers, writers and students.

It’s Sunday morning now. Been a very lazy weekend, haven’t done much exploring or anything besides a few trips down the street to grab some food.  Vargese (my boss) and his family and friends are some of nicest and most generous people I’ve met.  I’ve been enjoing their company, hanging out, eating a little. Mostly I’ve been sleeping, jet-lag is no joke. I’m playing my first game of cricket later today. Varghese’s church has a Sunday tradition of playing.  It’s about 90 out, so it should be hot and confusing.  Tomorrow I’ll have a better idea of my duties as an intern and what the remainder of my time here will entail (I know it’ll involve some travel which I’m looking forward to).  Now something about wickets and overs.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Internship Blog: Luke West Post #1

 30 Hours of Travel



What is India? In all honesty, I had no idea what to expect going there.  None at all. The stories and ideas I’ve heard were from one end of the spectrum to the other.  I was excited, nervous and anxious, but before I could even think of finding an answer to my questions, I had to get there.

“A 14 hour flight isn’t so bad,” I told myself when buying the plane ticket.  I’ve done 9 before, what is a few more hours. Then I realized that the 14 hour flight wasn’t even half of the journey.  From 8 a.m. leaving Washington, it took a total of 26 hours of traveling.  Well, 5 in-flight movies, 4 bad airplane meals, 3 different flights from 3 separate airports, 2 different baggage claims, 1 stiff back and countless crying babies later, I made it at 7:30 p.m the following day.  Truthfully though, it wasn’t that bad.

Sure, it was long, super long, especially when you can’t sleep because a) my internal clock was (is) 9 1/2 hours behind (the 14 hour flight to Delhi arrived at 5 a.m. EST) and b) I have never had to sit more upright in a chair before.  And sure, airplane food is bad, especially when two of your flights are Air India, where they serve, well, bad Indian food that I didn’t know what any of it was.  But other than that, there wasn’t much to complain about.

I mean the Indira Gandhi Airport in Delhi was nicer than any airport i have been to. Seriously, it was big, clean, and modern.  Unfortunately, after clearing customs I did not have much time to explore, but countless nice restaurants, easy to follow signs, wide, comfy waiting terminals, clean bathrooms (with toilets), and people willing to help. Compared to JFK, this place was night and day.  And the same goes for the Airport in Bangalore. Modern, clean, and organized. The flights, too, were pretty standard, with In-flight entertainment with new movies, Foxcatcher and the Imitation Game were good, plus the plane from Delhi to Bangalore seemed brand new. I thought, If this is what the rest of India was like, this trip shouldn’t be too bad.  Unfortunately, from what I know about India and my quick night in Bangalore, it’s not the case.

Unlike the US, where almost everyone has or will be on a plane in their lifetime, flying in India is a privilege reserved for the rich.  The images we’ve all seen of largely overcrowded trains traveling the Indian countryside is a more realistic view of Indian transportation.  Yeah, the airports are nice and clean, but only because planes are expensive.  The rest of India, the 1.2 billion people, they’d be lucky to ever step foot in an airport.  What the airports confirmed for me was what I’ve known all along and what makes India an interesting country, disparity.

A country that is both extremely modern and extremely poor at the same time.  It was apparent as soon as I left the airport in Bangalore.  The long road into the city flanked on both sides by, from what I could tell, slums. This is a theme I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of over the next 8 weeks.  But by the time I got to where I’ll be living, I was tired, jet-lagged, and needed sleep bad.  I mustered up enough energy to grab my first Indian meal with two volunteers from Daya named Rijo and Nikhil. They took me to a local place just down to street. I ate some flat flaky bread (some type of naan) to dip in a delicious sauce, and fried chicken which I recently learned it’s referred to as a kebab, very unlike what we know a kebab as, and a local Bangalorean treat (I was too tired to take pictures or remember the names).

I have yet to grasp India, which I’m sure I never will. For now, sleep.