Chandigarh: Day 1

I got up as early as I could the next morning, but I knew there wasn’t much I could do before checking out of this hotel, and getting the other guest house stuff straightened. I talked to Dr. Kohli, the contact I’d made by emailing the environmental department cold from the website address, and he very kindly got me into the last guest house opening, in the faculty house. So, perhaps once again I will be mistaken for a French lecturer (as Jenny and I continually were at LBSNAA). The room has no AC, and as far as I can tell, no sheets or pillows. I’ve been so tired, it hasn’t mattered much so far.

I agreed to meet with the professor after lunch so I could go up to the BBMB and talk with Mr. R.B. again. He was extremely helpful, and very complimentary of my salwar-kameez (Sara’s). He gave me many reports, and thing that were already publicly available, and we met with the secretary, who agreed that data could be shared if it was for research. Therefore, I need to get a memo stating that I am doing research, and also put my request into writing. Mr. R.B. is going to a dam site for the next two days, so I will get back with him Thursday. I thought about going with him there, as he kindly invited me, but after I spoke with the university people, I realized that would be too much time spent there.

So Dr. Kohli was incredibly helpful and interesting. He talked about allelopathy and cell phone radiation, which scared me into wanting a landline when I get home. I then met his associates, two other PhD’s, and they spent a long time trying to fix my computer. They were so kind and helpful! Afterwards, they took me to the market to buy my dinner and some other food to keep in my room (granola bars and some fruit, and PEANUT BUTTER!), and then I rode back with the gentleman on his scooter, no small feat considering I was carrying four bags of groceries, and trying not to grip the hell out of his poor shoulder. Luckily he was a very good driver. He was also a very good person. He helped me select the best bananas (which I can attest are excellent bananas), and helped me choose a cheap knife (which he tested gingerly against his thumb, in such a manner that made me feel he really knew knives, and had appraised this one as a good deal; I can also attest that this is a good knife) for fruits.

On the way back, I asked why no one wears helmets. It’s not just because this is the Punjab region, and every other man has a turban. As Elizabeth Gilbert noticed, it’s not that people don’t buy helmets—they often ride with them inexplicably tucked under one arm. Just as I asked about it, someone passed us, wearing a helmet. But as soon as he was in the university gates, he took it off. I was told you don’t have to wear them in the university grounds. It made me think of seat belt stories, which are as follow:

1- While riding in the car from Dehradun to Delhi a few weeks back, the kid in the car with me kept telling me I didn’t have to wear my seatbelt, that it was only required in the city. They thought I was uncomfortable with it around my neck. But they didn’t understand I’d be more uncomfortable without it, sitting in the front seat, with all the near-miss accidents we’d experienced thus far.

2- Mr. R.B., when he took me around the city, had fake seat belts. They were just straps that you could lay across your front, and they looked like seatbelts (for the cops), but didn’t attached to anything. There wasn’t even a buckle. It was just straps. I found this hilarious.

So anyway, personal safety hasn’t entered the public consciousness here, as it has at least in my demographic of the US. Maybe not in Louisiana. Which reminds me of another interesting story. Mr. R.B. saw I was from Louisiana, and informed me that he was the exact same caste as Governor Jindal. I guess that’s a coincidence? It’s so interesting to me that people even know that kind of stuff, for some Podunk state in America. I guess it’s a big deal, though.

Oh, and the bombings are of course on all the channels, which is disturbing. It just feels a lot more real when your in the same country. I was in a town called Rajpur the day after the blasts, and that was coincidentally the name of one of the areas hit. That’s disturbing, I’d say.

In the evening, I met with Dr. and Mr. Jerath, whose son was going to UT. They came to my hostel, and had lots of questions for me, only some of which could I answer. They were very kind, and luckily, Dr. Jerath has a lot of information she is happy to share with me regarding irrigation in the Punjab region. She’s a scientist, and her husband is an irrigation engineer. Amazing coincidence, and really useful!