An Accident of Birth [Jim]

Happy Puja! ‘Tis Durga Puja here in Kolkata; the biggest Holiday of the year in a land which knows no end of Holidays (the month of October alone has three other major holidays—all with days off work, naturally). The most exciting part of Durga Puja lasts from Thursday night until Monday—picture four straight days of Christmas Festivities and you get something like the picture.

But, a full report of Durga Puja needs pictures. And thus, Dear Reader, you will have to wait.

So let us move quickly to the Mold Report. First, we must Journey Back a bit into Time (not literally, of course). [By the way, I read Wells’ The Time Machine this week—clever, to be sure. The last time I read it, I was too young to see the anti-Capitalist undertone. Ah, but now I am surrounded by Communists and Socialists; I am not sure if Modern Day Kolkata would make Wells happy or not. But, I digress. (Shocking, to be sure).] Long-time Readers of this space will surely recall Our Dear, Dear Lily’s Pathos-Inducing Tale of Woe regarding a Stroll through water. What Long-Time readers were not informed was that the next day Our Dear, Dear Emma (who seems to have inherited Janet’s proclivity toward the morally questionable activity of blogging [as an aside, there is one key difference between Emma and Janet in this respect; Emma is required to write blog entries as part of her school work and sometimes they rise to the level of postable (the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth accounts of how she went to the coffee shop and got a chocolate shake and it was really good were deemed otherwise); Janet, however, being (well) past the Years of Mandatory Schooling, has no such compulsion])—as I was saying Our Dear, Dear Emma went out on the Day Following with Your Humble Narrator to the British Council Library. Emma insisted on a taxi ride, rather than a stroll through Streets Most Flooded, but alas, the Taxi could not reach dry land when we arrived at our destination, necessitating making two steps in ankle-deep (not, Lily would be quick to note, thigh-deep) water. I was wearing my Top-siders, leather shoes one can wear without socks and thus beloved of people who don’t like socks. {I am not unaware that you are presently wondering why my footwear is of interest. It isn’t. Nothing in this blog is of Interest, and yet, you Dear Reader read it anyway. Go figure.) When we arrived back home, I put said footwear in our shoe holder—a two foot high cabinet that sits in the hall. Fast forward to Last Night. I was departing for the Durga Puja Activities downstairs in the apartment complex and I pulled out my Top-siders. Until now, said shoes were black; Last night they were green. A sort of a moldy green. And the new color was both inside and out. Upon closer inspection, I realized said Shoes were actually Alive. [I hasten to add for anyone who is worried, that there are no mold spores or bacteria at all on Mars, so the new growth is surely of Earthly Origin. I learned this in Wells’ War of the Worlds which I read this week. Clever story; Socialist undertones; déjà vu all over again.] At that point, (the point in which I discovered that my shoes were alive, not the point at which I read War of the Worlds); I was faced with a horrible dilemma. Should I slay the mold growing happily on my shoes or should I rather give it a name, adopt it into the family, and provide something for the Newest Addition to the Hartley Household portion of the Annual Christmas Letter. The decision was too weighty. So, I went barefoot to the Durga Puja Festivities, this being the Land where people using their God-given Footwear are not Out of the Ordinary.

This morning, I committed Genocide or Speciecide or Moldocide or something like that. A bit of water and Lizol did the trick (I think, but more about hat anon). Lizol should not be confused with Lysol; only the latter is available in America. The fine product Lizol is unavailable presumably due to pernicious Trademark Laws in the United States. Said shoes are now resting on the window ledge, drying out. Only Time will tell if the Mold was entirely eradicated. So, for those of you Rooting for the Mold in this story, consider it a cliffhanger ending.

In other non-Durga Puja News:

1. Wednesday I was on a panel discussion organized by the US Consulate. The topic was the Future of Retail Business in India. I talked abut Wal-Mart and Economic Growth. The audience had quite a few people who sounded a lot like Marxists—one complained about how hypermarkets paid artificially low prices to their suppliers. This was News to me—until now I though all prices were artificial, but apparently the Marxist Vision includes Naturally Occurring Prices—perhaps they evolved like the cheetah. IT seems there is a good section of India who believes they will be able to attain Western levels of wealth while simultaneously maintaining everyone in exactly he same job they currently have.

2. My class on Thursday was cancelled. It was due to start at 12:30. I had heard rumors from the students the day before that it was cancelled, but it wasn’t until 11:30 that I received official notification. Such is India.

3. We hired a cook this week. She comes in to make dinner whenever we want. Since making dinner here takes between 90 and 120 minutes, this is no small saving of time for the Previous Cook.

4. The Fantasy Baseball Championship ends on Sunday. I am ahead, but it is very, very tight. After a stunning first week, my batters seem to have forgotten how to hit a homerun; my pitching recovered, and at present all 8 of the pitching categories could go either way. This thing is closer than St. Louis’ potentially epic collapse. And, by the way, I am revising my World Series prediction in light of Recent Events—I am no longer so sure of the Mets. The Yankees still go in the AL; but the NL is up for grabs. Lest I be accused of waffling, I will make a prediction once the playoff field is settled.

5. I have heard a strange report that this year the Mount Holyoke News has become...readable. Can such things be True? Has the World turned upside down? Can anyone confirm this Report?

Taffeta Phrases [Jim]

1. Lily, of course, was being melodramatic—accurate, I must say, but melodramatic nonetheless.

2. The Good Samaritan who picked us up on the way to the library when no cab was venturing forth was a kindly 60+ year old man, educated as it turns out at the University of Michigan. Nice guy. No need to worry.

3. As to the question of whether Lily is now taller than Emma: Well, as Einstein might note, it depends on your frame of reference. If you use Emma’s frame of reference, then Lily is still shorter than Emma; I know this because Emma attests to this fact. However, if you use anyone else’s frame of reference, then Lily is, indeed, the taller of the two. Just more evidence in favor of the special theory of relativity.

4. Conference Notes: Last week, the MBA students here organized a two day conference, with four panel discussions on assorted topics. The first and last panel discussions of the event were, alas, extraordinarily dull. The last panel was on marketing, and thus was marketing people talking about marketing, which when you get right down to it is nothing more than saying, “You should get people to buy your product.” The first panel of the conference was on interest rate regulations, which, of course, is an endlessly fascinating topic, and one which has been in the news since I have been here because of comments by the Finance Minster. But, sadly, a) each one of the four panelists demonstrated a lack of understanding of the rudiments of money and banking that truly made me wince (suffice it to say that none of them would earn particularly high marks in my money and banking seminar) and b) none of the panelists ever actually got around to saying anything about the Finance Minister’s comments. One of the student organizers later told me that the four panelists had met right before the panel started and since they all worked in industry (bankers, insurance agents, lobbyists, i.e., not academics), they decided it would be prudent to avoid saying anything specific. Such is the state of Free Speech in India, I guess.

The panel I attended in between these two was the oddest affair. I wandered into the auditorium at 2:30, when the panel was supposed to start. Just as I was taking my seat, one of the organizers came over to me and said that one of their panelists was not able to make it and she wondered if I would be willing to sit on the panel. “Oh, sure,” I replied, “What’s the topic?” They told me—The relative merits of proprietary versus open-source software and the Future of Business in India. So, I said lots of nice things about Microsoft, they guy on my left said lots of nice things about open-source software alternatives to Microsoft, and, lo, there was actually a bit of a debate on the panel. As it turns out, the audience was pleasantly surprised; it seems that panel discussions in India rarely involve speakers with differing opinions.

[Just in case anyone is counting—I couldn’t make it to the third session since I was teaching at that hour. However it was notable for starting 2 hours late because the panelists had a hard time arriving due to heavy rain. Said rain is familiar to Long-time Readers of this Space for having a profound effect on Lily’s Life on the following day. Such is the working of Fate.]

Saturday night, the MBA students invited me to the big, annual “cocktail dinner” for students and alums. It was at the hotel on Ho Chi Minh Saranai (a street which once upon a time had a different name but was renamed by the Communist Government in town. In an odd coincidence, the street now named Ho Chi Minh Saranai just happens to be the street on which the American Consulate is located. What are the odds? This digression is a means of noting that Ho Chi Minh Saranai is the most heavily guarded street in town, and how a hotel can stay in business on it is beyond me.). An interesting evening; the attendees were MBA students and Alums, so everyone there is in their mid-20s or later. An open bar, serving cheap alcohol primarily mixed with assorted Pepsi products (yes, it was as bad as it sounds). After a few hours, it reminded me of my dormitory days; it seems that many of these 20-something men are not much different than frat boys at a keg party. (And yes, all the drunken, and truth be told, sick and vomiting, individuals were men.) By 10:00, the sober folks were beating a hasty retreat—10:00 is very early by Indian standards, by the way. I have no idea how late the party ran. There was also a band made up of the MBA students playing primarily Western rock. I was told that “Summer of ‘69” is one of the most popular songs in India these days. I despair. Bryan Adams?? What can one say?

5. Kolkata Police Update: Last week was Traffic Awareness week. On a street which I walk down to get to and from the metro station, they had a big booth set up with a guy using a loudspeaker shouting at the passing cars. I have no idea what he was shouting, since it wasn’t in English. They were also handing out flyers to pedestrians like me with lots of helpful techniques on how to be a Better Pedestrian. Things like: Use the sidewalks, Only cross the street at cross walks, and so on. In looking over the list I was pleased to note that I routinely disobey every single safely tip provided by the Kolkata Police. It would be well nigh impossible to get around this town if you followed all their helpful tips (though, I should note, Janet tries to obey the rules whenever she is out walking—it takes forever to walk anywhere with Janet—she waits for the cars to stop before stepping out in front of them, for example). Anyway, it was good to see the Kolkata Police doing something to help with the traffic problem—actually enforcing traffic laws is obviously not something they are keen on doing. Indeed, the primary contribution of the Kolkata Police to Traffic in this town is to manually run the stop lights or to stand in the intersection directing traffic; they do such a marvelously horrid job, it is actually a wonder to behold. The best part is that the traffic lights are actually equipped with automatic timers set to ensure optimal traffic flow, but naturally the fine Police Department can’t let traffic be directed by automatic traffic lights optimally set by traffic engineers who have studied the problem—after all, what in the world would the Kolkata Police do, if they couldn’t direct traffic, or even more importantly, sit around on the corner drinking tea when they are supposed to be directing traffic?

6. Fantasy Baseball Update: The Championship Game is 2 weeks long, so we are only half-way through. I am leading right now, but not by enough to allow me to rest easy. My pitching has been less than stellar. My batters, though—Wow! I think I set a new record for HRs in a week.

7. Real Baseball update: World Series prediction: Mets over Yankees in 6.

8. Hey! The Raiders didn’t lose this week!!!

9. Book Reports (this is the portion where the discerning readers stop reading):

a) MacCambridge, America’s Game
A fantastic book. A history of the last 60 years of pro football, but instead of a focus on the games, it is a study of the business side of the league. A bit too hagiographic when it came to Pete Rozelle and the last chapter was a silly blow by blow of the a recent playoff series to show how exciting the game has become, but other than those things, a great book.

b) Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona
Love’s Labor’s Lost
This was the first time I have read the Two Gentlemen of Verona, so it was a rather bittersweet thing; I have not read all of Shakespeare yet, but I am getting close enough that with each new play I read, I note with sadness that there is one fewer play to discover. LLL is amazing; the volume I have is entitled Comedies, volume 1, and thus is the Comedies in chronological order. The leap in quality level from TGoV to LLL is incredible—Shakespeare hit his stride in the Comedic vein right there.

c) Fry, Making History
This is the first novel by Fry I have read (though I have seen him in the Jeeves and Wooster series). On the whole, it was a pleasant novel; overall a bit amusing and some interesting substance. But, the ending was painfully lame, and the story itself is internally inconsistent and a bit incoherent—since the book is about changing the past, it is probably hard to avoid such inconsistencies, but even still, this one needs a bit of work.

d) Bhagat, Fivepointsomeone (sic)
Janet convinced me to read this; Janet reads a lot of Indian fiction here in India. I am not a big fan of the Generic Indian Novel—it’s like Bollywood—you seen one move, you seen ‘em all. Anyway, this one was decent enough; it is about the life of some IIT students (and for the Americans in the audience, IIT (Indian Institute of Technology) is the most prestigious university in the country (they have several campuses, by the way)). It was fun seeing the stereotypes of Indian professors—they aren’t much like American professors.

A Lovely Walk With my Dear Dad [Lily]

Today I had a perfectly wonderful day. Lately, it has been raining cats and dogs. Last night, the rain was so hard, I could scarcely see out the window. But today I was having a good day. I put on my favorite jeans that just got back from the cleaners. My dad and I had been planning to spend a day at the American Center Library, reading or whatever. We planned to go to a restaurant with dosas – delicious, heavenly dosas drowned in coconut chutney. Ahh.

Okay, so we planned this fun day. We (mostly meaning my dad) decided it was fine to go out. The rain yesterday didn’t flood or anything! I mean seriously.

So we get outside, it’s raining a little bit. No harm, right? We look around for a taxi to take us to the metro station. None anywhere. We’re about to turn around and go home, when this man drives up and asks if we need a ride. This guy seemed pretty nice, so my dad said OK. (Just if you were wondering, he wasn’t a terrorist. He brought us straight to the American Center Library.) So if this guy’s out driving, the streets probably aren’t that bad. Okay, as we’re driving, there are some little floods, but we got there.

In India, there is tight security. Real tight. I wasn’t allowed to bring my books in! Library books only. Okay. Inside, we were there for about two hours before lunch. In that time, I read a whole book, as I’m a quick reader, but you probably don’t care about that.

So at lunch time, we walk almost to the restaurant; no floods. But when we get there, just our luck, the whole area around the place is flooded ankle-deep. Nice. So we go to a Chinese restaurant. It was pretty good. While we were eating our prawns in garlic sauce and kung-pau chicken, it starts pouring. By the time we were done, it had stopped, though.

We took the Metro to the nearest station to our apartment; and when we got there; totally flooded. And we had to walk home - no let me rephrase that: trudge home - since the taxis could hardly drive through the streets. Like I said, my favorite jeans that just got back from the cleaners. I rolled them up to my knees and started trudging. It wasn’t too bad at first; only up to my ankles. A bit later it was up to the middle of my shins. A bit later it’s too my knees. There go my jeans. A while later, THE WATER WAS UP TO MID-THIGH, and if that wasn’t bad enough, it started to rain. Did I mention this water isn’t exactly the cleanest? Kolkata streets are so dirty, this water was brown. And it had trash and vegetable guts in it. I think I’m going to sue Mother Nature. Or at least make her pay for cleaning my jeans. (Not that I have to pay for it in the first place.) Dad says I’ll laugh about it eventually, but it’s not exactly happening right now.

So parents; next time your child complains he (or she) can’t do something because it’s raining, tell him (or her) the story of an eleven-year-old named Lily Hartley.

The Inadequacies of Bob-the-Builder [Lily]

Durga Puja is coming up. It lasts ten days. Too bad Christmas doesn’t. Lucky Indians! Well; Durga Puja is the biggest Bengali holiday of the year; celebrating the Indian goddess, Durga. She has ten arms that hold all these magical weapons and she rides around on a lion.

Anyway, around town, they have been setting up these buildings that are called pandals. A pandal is the guest house of Durga while she’s staying in India. Well, it’s like, amazing to see how these things are built! The structure is huge bamboo poles all tied together with rope. Then cloth is draped over them. But don’t think these are that simple. I mean, some pandals are huuuge, and they’re elaborately decorated. And they’re hand made!! I’d like to see Bob-the-Builder do that. I bet he can’t.

The idols that go in pandals are also very elaborate. First, bamboo is used to create a skeleton for the idol. Next, straw, rope and string are used to shape it. The clay is put on in three steps. First, thin, watery clay is used to fill in the cracks in the straw. Next, extremely fine clay is carefully put on, leaving no bumps. When that is almost dry, a very thin layer of clay is applied. It fills in any cracks that were created while drying. When all the clay is dry, the idol is painted with a white earth color. Then, pink or yellow earth colors are painted on. Finally, a red blood earth color is applied. The head artist paints on the eyes and other details, before the idol is varnished. Black yarn is glued on for hair. The final step is dressing the idol in fancy clothing and decorating it with jewels, glitter, and jewelry.

Hopefully, we’ll be able to get some good pictures of the Durga Puja festivities to put on the blog. Especially pictures of the pandals and idols.

A Feminist Primer [Jim]

Convention (that stern Master) would seem to Dictate that a blog entry should commence with some observation of Universal Interest, thereby Setting the Stage for the Anecdotes which comprise the Substance (for Lack of a Better Word) of the Remaining Essay. You May Consider the Preceding Sentence as Fulfilling the Mandates of Convention. Should the Reader Find Said Observation to be Lacking in Particular Interest, Said Reader is Well-Advised to Consider that It is Undoubtedly the Passage in the Present Essay of Most Interest. You Have Been Warned (assuming that You, the Reader, Have Bothered to Parse the Preceding).

1. In my Western Civ class last week, we reached Locke. On of the questions raised by Locke is what rights the government has over the people. When I reach this point with my American Students, I invariably ask them the following: “Suppose you were in the English government and stationed as a governor in Colonial India. In your province, the practice of widow-burning is taking place. Would you stop the practice? Would you stop a young widow from throwing herself on her husband’s funeral pyre?” This question is inevitably a very difficult question for American students. On the one hand, their education has taught them that widow burning is rather hard on women and they have been taught to defend the rights of women. On the other hand, widow burning is a cultural practice of Another Culture, and they have all been taught that they should never judge, let alone condemn, Another Culture’s practices. So, how to solve this puzzle?

Teaching in India, asking such a question would obviously be terribly Inconsiderate and Lacking in a Proper Amount of Cultural Sensitivity. So, of course, I asked it. (I know this comes as a surprise to nobody.) The reaction was amazing. If I had walked into the room and asked, “Is the world round?” I would have received exactly the same reaction. It was obvious, and I mean obvious to everyone in the room that the hypothetical English commander should have done everything possible to stop widow burning. Indeed, the students were amazed that American students would have any difficulty answering the question at all.

2. Last week, I went to a question and answer session with Prakash Karat, the General Secretary of the Communist Part of India (Marxist). [The term in the parentheses is necessary to distinguish the Party from the Communist Part of India (Marxist-Leninist) and the Communist Party of India (Maoist). Some things never change.] It was quite an amusing show. He was as slick a politician as I have ever seen. The organizers of the affair stuck me in the front row and told me to ask a question. The way he completely evaded the question was truly an impressive work of art—I mean that quite seriously; I was truly impressed. The Communist Part of India (Marxist), by the way, is still stuck in the 19th century—the topic of the talk was strategies for inclusive growth, and his recommendations were: 1) more public spending on agriculture; 2) more unionization, 3) more affirmative action in education and 4) ending female infanticide. Determining how the last item relates to economic growth is left as an exercise for the reader—I have no idea.

The number of members of the press at this talk was incredible—especially since he didn’t say anything. There must have been 8 television cameras and who knows how many print reporters. One of the newspaper reporters came over to chat with me during lunch. He asked me if the Communist Party of India (Marxist) was really jus the same as the Democrats in America. You will be happy and perhaps a bit surprised to note that I did the Noble Thing and defended the Democrats by saying that, no, in fact the Democrats in American had joined the 21st century and didn’t seem so stuck in the 19th century. He kept pressing for the differences. I did note that I didn’t think the Democrats would be as opposed to female infanticide as the Communist Party of India (Marxist) given the importance of the Abortion Lobby in the Democratic Party—as long as the females weren’t born yet, I thought the Democratic Party wouldn’t have much trouble with it. When I told the Long Suffering Wife about this Remark, she was horrified, telling me that my sarcasm was undoubtedly lost in an intercultural exchange. Hmmm. Well, at least my remarks were off the record….I think. If anyone sees press accounts of how the Democrats are in favor of female infanticide, please don’t tell the Long-Suffering Wife of Your Humble Narrator.

3. I was at a panel discussion recently on the Indo-American Energy Accords, with particular attention to the Nuclear Energy portions of the Accord. Much to my surprise, it turns out there is extensive criticism of these agreements in India—it seems that many Indians don’t trust America, and thus they figure there must be something bad in it for India. It also turns out that Indians by and large do not understand American politics, and so cannot figure out why the Senate is debating the Treaty. [By the way, lest I be accused of Cultural Insensitivity (shudder) for that last observation, it is not mine but that of the Indian speaker to be mentioned in the next sentence.] One of the two Indians on the panel was Lalit Mansigh, former Indian Ambassador to the United States. He was there from 2000-2004 (if I recall correctly) and I recognized him from his constant appearances on TV in the wake of 9/11. An interesting speaker—well, after the first part of his talk, he was interesting. The first part of his talk was a history of Indo-American relations; it seems that the lack of a cozy relationship between India and America prior to the Clinton and Bush Administrations was all the fault of, you guessed it, America. One would have never known from the history lesson we received about things like Indo-Soviet cooperation during that time. But, that’s in the past. Bush gets very high marks from the former Ambassador for his astuteness is realizing the benefits of dealing with India.

The American Consular General for Kolkata was also on the panel. A nice guy. My father-in-law would have gone nuts listening to him though—he said Nuke-you-ler endlessly. Come to think of it, I guess it drove me nuts too. And, come to think of it, I don’t think anything would actually drive my Father-in-Law nuts; he is a very model of imperturbability.

4. When does the 2007 football season start?

5. In Fantasy Baseball, I won the week, and am now in the Championship Game. My opponent is Craig, who as long-time Readers will now, came in First Place during the Regular Season (curses). This is the third year in a row I have met Craig in the Playoffs, though it is the First time we have met in the Championship Game. Three years of meeting in the playoffs makes this Officially a Rivalry.

6. And Finally, we now Present our Regularly Scheduled Book Reports:

a) Hammett, Red Harvest
The Dain Curse
This completes the Hammett novels. Both of these have the same detective and it shows; they felt the same. On the whole, Hammett is worth reading if you like the genre, but I am not sure anything he wrote rose above the genre. I think I liked Red Harvest the best; the Tin Man is the best conventional detective story, and the Maltese Falcon has the best detective.

b) Edmonds and Eidenow, Wittgenstein’s Poker
An interesting portrait of 20th century philosophy. A bit too much biographical psychoanalysis for my taste, but the overall portraits and discussions of the differences between Wittgenstein and Popper was well done.

c) Shakespeare, A Comedy of Errors
The Taming of the Shrew
Early comedies and it shows. They both still have that Shakespearian Charm, but don’t rise to the level of his Great Comedies.

d) Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Emma is reading this for Home School this week, so I figured I might as well reread it since it has been years since I read it the first time. It’s a bit ham-handed, and the ending needs work, but a nice morality tale nonetheless. The afterward in the edition I read had a piece by Bradbury about the stage adaptation in which there is an extra scene between our Hero and the Fire Chief at the Fire Chief’s house—a very interesting scene and it adds more depth to the book.

Restaurant Review [Emma]

We went to the Chinese restaurant for the second time earlier this week. We got four dishes. There was fried rice that was pretty good with peas and green peppers. There was also a lamb dish. It was good, but too spicy. There was a really good chicken dish and a fish dish that was also really good.
My sisters and I got drinks too. Lily got a Red-Eyed Joe, which is strawberry crush with lemonade. Clara got a Shirley Temple, but it was different from the ones at home. It had pineapple juice, Fanta, and lime. I got this pineapple soda thing. There was pineapple juice and coconut and vanilla cream. There was a big piece of pineapple wrapped around the inside of the cup and a little green umbrella. It was really good.

A Lot of Hot Air [Lily]

The other day, Emma and I spent an hour blowing up balloons for our neighbor (Clara’s friend) Khushi’s fifth birthday party. Then we spent another hour tying them into bunches, and I spent yet another hour taping up streamers to the neighbor’s walls. I’m not complaining though, because I happen to enjoy spending time on these kinds of deeds that require using my creativity to be helpful. (And just for the record, this doesn’t include “creatively,” as my father might like to phrase it, doing the dishes, cleaning my room, putting away laundry, washing chicken eggs, etc.)
I also got the privilege of attending this party along with Clara, and boy did it have awesome food! There was homemade idilis and chutney (if you read our blog regularly, you already know what those are), luchi with chickpea curry to dip in, (luchi is a kind of bubbly, thin, flatbread) and then some normal stuff like potato chips.
Near the end of the party, Khushi’s brother decided it might be fun to pop all of Khushi’s precious balloons she dearly loved, and we put so much effort in to, which caused all sorts of hubbub, but that’s what balloons are for, right?

In Mourning [Jim]

Apparently I am having some trouble with the time change here; I thought football season was starting this last weekend, but it seems that the Raiders weren't playing football on Monday night after all. Does the season start next week?

[Sob]

Livestock Report [Jim]

On my way from the school to the metro station yesterday, I ran into a herd of goats. Well, more properly, the herd of goats ran into me. I was strolling down the sidewalk, when along came this herd of goats, with a goatherd, down the very same sidewalk on the very same day. I thought, “Hey! Is this my problem? Is this my fault?” Well, OK I didn’t really think that, but I like that song (actually, the album on which said song is found is easily one of the finest albums ever recorded). Anyway, the goats and I are headed for a showdown on this sidewalk. It’s one of those sidewalks with a guard rail to stop pedestrians from getting out of the way of things like herds of goats. So, I don’t get out of the way and the goats just smashed their way on past me.

Now, lest you get the wrong idea, my workplace in not in a rural area at all—it is right in the middle of the city. As noted earlier, I believe there is a slaughterhouse nearby. As a result, I don’t think the Goats’ blog will have a report of their encounter with me. Requiescant In Pace.

Meeting News:
1. I had a chat with an ex-Cabinet Official the other day. Pratap Chandra Chunder was the Minister of Education and Social Welfare from 1977 to 1979, the brief hiatus in one-party rule in this country during the 1970s. He is currently the President of the Institute at which I am working and was over at the school for the inauguration of the Retail Management program. Quite an amazing guy.
2. I had a discussion with a local businessman who is planning to use some of his (Vast) wealth to start a women’s college in West Bengal. I naturally enough offered Mount Holyoke’s assistance. The Powers That Be at Mount Holyoke are unaware of my kind offer of unspecified assistance—do I need to notify anyone?
3. One of the gentlemen organizing the Commonwealth Games of 2010, which will be held in India, came to the Institute to talk about preparations for the Games. It turns out they are having a problem with financing the operations. I asked why they didn’t get Corporate Sponsorship since that seems to work so well for all the other such events around the world—you call up Coca-Cola, and they build a new stadium and get lots of advertising every time the stadium is mentioned. He said that Indian Business won’t sponsor sporting events. I am skeptical, to say the least, but there isn’t much I can do to find out if he is right.

Other Notes:
1. We are toying with the idea of a visit to Darjeeling in early October.

2. Last Saturday, I took the young’ins down to the Birla Industrial and Technological Museum. (Janet was not feeling well (nothing major), otherwise she would have joined us on this jaunt.) The Museum is a short walk from our apartment. It is a Science Museum—a very interesting mixture of vintage 1950s exhibits, some of which still work, and quite modern, computerized exhibits, which were extremely good. Major Home School potential there…

3. George asks if I now wear a coat and tie given the general respect the students show to professors here. As some of you know, I feel a certain degree of guilt for not wearing a coat and tie to work each day—not so much guilt that I actually dress better than your average refugee, but some guilt nonetheless. Anyway, still no coat and tie, but fortunately, nobody here wears a coat and tie—it’s far too humid. I do still pace endlessly in lecture, which is a bit of a problem in one classroom on which the professor stands on a box about a foot and a half high and only 10 or so feet wide—some day I am going to walk right off the edge.

4. The regular season for fantasy baseball ended on Sunday—I came in Second. My team finished strong (10 weeks without a loss), but not strong enough to pass up Craig’s surging team. Curses. Anyway, I did get a bye in the first round of the playoffs. I like my chances. Then again, I am also sure the Raiders will win the Super Bowl this year.

5. Football season officially started at something like 5:30 AM today. I am quite happy.

6. We have mail! After being in this apartment for a month, having received no mail, we finally began to wonder if there was a mailbox somewhere. Sure enough, we had a mailbox, but no key. But a quick call to the Mittras and the key arrived this morning, and mail has come into our life. A letter for Clara from Carol (thanks Carol!) and a bill for us for the phone and internet and some, yes, junk mail.

7. The aforementioned album is Paul Simon’s Graceland.

Book Reports:
1. Trollope: Barchester Towers. Volume 2 in the Barsetshire series. Even better than the first volume. Mr. Slope was a wonderfully perfect villain.

2. Wodehouse, Ukridge. You can never, and I mean never, go wrong reading Wodehouse. Ukridge isn’t one of his best creations, but he really grew on me as the book went on.

3. Hammett, TheGlass Key. Not as good as the two earlier Hammett stories I read, but still fairly good—though I have no idea what the title was supposed to mean, and it isn’t worth the bother to puzzle it out. The style was again suited to the main character—the slight variations between his novels have started to intrigue me.

4. Shakespeare, Hamlet. I gave a lecture on Hamlet today in my Western Civ class, which was a good excuse to reread the play. I have read Hamlet more than any other single book (unless one counts individual books in the Bible as books unto themselves—I have read Romans, for example, more times than I have read Hamlet, but is Romans a book or a chapter in a book? Anyway, I haven’t read Numbers or Ezra or Joel, for example, as many times as I have read Hamlet.) Truly an incredible play, but you already knew that.

Vital TV Information [Clara]

On Cartoon Network, all the shows are in Hindi.

On Disney, all the shows are in English.

On Nick, the shows that are from India are in Hindi and the shows that are from America are in English.

My Favorite show is "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody."

Dosa [Janet]

These are the dosas and idlis we get every Monday morning. The idlis are the small round white things. They are made from a rice flour batter and left overnight to slightly ferment. They are then steamed in molds. The larger dosas are thin pancakes similar to crepes that are made from a rice and urad dal mixture that is ground and also left to ferment overnight. These are filled with a spiced potato filling. Coconut chutney is offered to dip pieces of both idlis and dosas into. The 'plates' are banana leaves that the dosas come wrapped in to stay warm.

Lily adds, "These are the Heavenly Dosas."

Beauty and the...Equally Beautiful [Emma and Lily]

Emma and Lily in their new Salwar Kameez.

Lily says, "My name should have been first because I am on the left."

Emma says, "I don't want to say anything." [Shocking, huh?--Jim]

[Our front door is behind them. The flowers are plastic.]

Peace Out, Dude [Clara and Jim]

Clara Likes India!
Normally our apartment is not decorated thus, but Clara decided to make a house within our house and demonstrate to one and all how relaxed she is.

Clara says, " I made a house. I know the blue sunglasses are pretty weird. [Emma interjects, "Excuse me??? Those are mine!"] It's very peaceful here. Peace Out, Dude!"

The couch is in the living room; in the background, you can see the refrigerator. The other chairs scattered around go with the dining set. The plastic bag in the foreground of the first picture is the type of bag in which our laundry comes back from the laundry service (I am not unaware that that particular detail is of no interest to anyone).

Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off [Jim]

The front page of today’s paper declares that the fine government of Kolkata, and for those who know not, Kolkata has long had a government run by the Communist Party, this most excellent government has stumbled upon a major technological advance which is sure to bring great happiness to this city. For centuries, nay millennia, mankind has been oppressed by the accumulation of unwanted matter. What is one to do with things which serve no purpose, the very refuse of a civilization? You ask, and the Communist Party of Kolkata has found the answer! Look no further, dear Reader. The Communists here have discovered [insert drum roll]…the Trash Can! [Insert Loud Hosannas.] Yes, that is right, the Communists who have run this city for decades have just decided to place trash cans on the streets so that the fine citizens of this metropolis can put their refuse into an approved bin instead of simply throwing it on the street. Sadly, the paper did not report the name of the individual who invented this mind-numbing new invention; what genius is responsible for discovering a bin which can hold trash? Let us all applaud the forward looking, cutting edge government of Kolkata. Perhaps other cities of the world will follow their example and discover the benefits of the trash can!

In another strange and wonderful-to-relate development, at work the other day I attended a discussion of “Disaster Management.” The school had arranged for an outside expert on this topic to come deliver a lecture to all the faculty of the Institute. Upon arriving in the room, I noticed the expert was accompanied by a bevy of aides, there to tape her wise words to our August Assembly. Said staff members were wearing bright (Very Bright) yellow shirts proclaiming the name of the organization to which they belong. What is this organization which is spreading out through the Land, helping the citizens of this country understand Disaster Management? They are [another drum roll]…Scientologists! Yes, Scientologists have come to this Land to educate one and all. The speaker began her talk with a very lengthy discussion of how one learns, reading many excerpts from that Master of All Knowledge, L. Ron Hubbard Himself. Sadly, the Natives became restless about 30 minutes into her 45 minute talk: “When,” they asked “are you going to talk about disaster management?” Such question was greeted by a broad grin; “I’ll get to that in a moment, sir, but first let me read you another fine passage from this sacred tome.” 40 minutes into the 45 minute talk, Disaster Management was mentioned. Ah, such wisdom. “Disaster Management,” we were told “is managing disasters.” [Yes, that is an exact quotation.] We were promised that if we enrolled in the “Full Course,” we would learn many other insights about Disaster Management; we could also, of course, buy some books written by the Master Himself. And, alas, we were out of time, so our expert was quite sadly not going to be able to answer any questions. A truly illuminating time was had by all; I suspect, however, that the Scientologists will not be invited back to the Institute any time soon.

On leaving work that afternoon, I passed by a herd of sheep being led down the street by three humble shepherds. Said sheep were presumably on their way to the slaughterhouse. One hopes there is no moral here.

MA Girl in Nepali Sweet Shop [Emma]

Earlier this week, I went to the Nepal Sweets shop. They sell Bengali sweets, so I’m not sure why they named the shop that. I like it there. It smells nice inside. We got white sandesh. They’re really good. There was plain ones and ones with jelly. They also have colored sandesh, which taste a little different and are also really good, rosegola, which are like little cheese balls that are really sweet, and gulabjamen. I don’t know what they are, but they’re soaked in syrup and really good.

For school I’m still doing the boring part of the algebra book. The grammar was too easy this week, so my dad told me to skip to the end of the chapter. I have to do creative writing, which I still hate just as much as ever. I’m reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. I like it but there’s hardly any dialogue, so it takes forever to read one page. I’m doing logic puzzles which are fun.