Monday, July 14, 2008
Monday: Delhi
Today I spent a lot of time on the phone, running down my already-paltry supply of minutes. I wasn’t able to get much accomplished despite that. I did finish my transcription and start on another one. I felt so tired, it was hard to keep up momentum on any one project. I went down and bought a lot of stuff at the market to make me and Jenny and Stephanie some dinner (what turned out to be moussaka and French fries). Even if I don’t have a productive day, at least I can support someone who did. I did send out a lot of emails/letters to the Roorkee contacts I have, but I was unable to book myself into the hostel, so I’m worried about that.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday
Today, I’m planning on transcribing as many of the interviews as I can. I will start with the one I don’t have the recording for, Mr. Dakpa.
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Well, I didn’t get as much transcribed as I had hoped today. Having everyone around makes it harder to work. That’s my line anyway. I was able to do half of one, with my earplugs in, but I felt quite rude with everyone around being social.
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Well, I didn’t get as much transcribed as I had hoped today. Having everyone around makes it harder to work. That’s my line anyway. I was able to do half of one, with my earplugs in, but I felt quite rude with everyone around being social.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
No work day: Delhi
Today was mostly spent getting a few errands done for Sarah before he plane left. Bangles bought, FabIndia visited, coffee drunk. Then we went to Jenny’s “parlor” down the road, got the thick coat of dirt scraped off our feet. Packing ensued. Taxis called, last minute time spent. Then Sarah was away, in her taxi, hopefully successful on her flight because once you’re in the Delhi airport, it’s hard to get back out.
After excruciating discussion with the rickshaw drivers, less about money and more about if they knew where we were going, we got a ride to a party that Jenny’s friend was having. Everyone there was nice, and we left by about 1:30, when more excruciating rickshaw negotiations ensued.
After excruciating discussion with the rickshaw drivers, less about money and more about if they knew where we were going, we got a ride to a party that Jenny’s friend was having. Everyone there was nice, and we left by about 1:30, when more excruciating rickshaw negotiations ensued.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Travel Day: Leh to Delhi
Another day full of traveling. We got to the airport before it even opened, which caused a few problems because we were two hours early for our flight. But after a few baggage scans, and several pat-downs, we were safe in the terminal, where we met Shlomi, from Israel, who partook of a prayer session the likes of which neither Sarah nor I had ever seen before. We tried not to gawk, but it was very interesting.
After we arrived in Delhi, there was a heated rickshaw exchange, and we had to pay 30 more rupees than I had had to pay to get to the airport in the first place. But we really were not given any choice. I guess I lucked out on the ride to the airport, even if he dropped me at the wrong terminal. So we got a ride to near Jenny’s house, and camped out with all our stuff at Café Coffee Day for a few hours, then retired to the park near Jenny’s house to sit on a bench and talk for the next 6 hours. Jenny’s phone had died while she was at her conference, so we couldn’t get in touch with her. I promised myself another weekend workday to make up for the day of not working. But there was nothing for it, so there was no point getting frustrated, and we tried to enjoy sitting out for hours in the scorchingest part of the day in the Delhi heat. It was easier because I had Sarah with me. I’m worried about similar situations when I’ll be alone again.
Sarah was very sad that night about her impending departure, so we tried eating ice cream and watching Sex and the City to cheer her up. But the real problem was probably that we were so tired from our scant few hours of sleep, and sitting out in the heat all day.
After we arrived in Delhi, there was a heated rickshaw exchange, and we had to pay 30 more rupees than I had had to pay to get to the airport in the first place. But we really were not given any choice. I guess I lucked out on the ride to the airport, even if he dropped me at the wrong terminal. So we got a ride to near Jenny’s house, and camped out with all our stuff at Café Coffee Day for a few hours, then retired to the park near Jenny’s house to sit on a bench and talk for the next 6 hours. Jenny’s phone had died while she was at her conference, so we couldn’t get in touch with her. I promised myself another weekend workday to make up for the day of not working. But there was nothing for it, so there was no point getting frustrated, and we tried to enjoy sitting out for hours in the scorchingest part of the day in the Delhi heat. It was easier because I had Sarah with me. I’m worried about similar situations when I’ll be alone again.
Sarah was very sad that night about her impending departure, so we tried eating ice cream and watching Sex and the City to cheer her up. But the real problem was probably that we were so tired from our scant few hours of sleep, and sitting out in the heat all day.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Leh :Day 4
This morning I had the interview with the CEC, who much be a pretty big-wig, top-brass kind of guy. His house was ginormous, and when I told the taxi driver where I was going, he knew the name of the person who lived there (“Chering Dorjay?”). Basically, this guy was the governor of the Ladakh region, so he had no problem letting me film the interview. The view was beautiful, and afterwards he gave me some tea, and there was once again belabored small talk. The problem is they don’t ask questions back. I wonder if there is some cultural difference, and they’re thinking “God, she talks a lot, doesn’t she ever stop asking questions?” While I’m thinking “It’s like pulling teeth to get this conversation rolling!” Maybe it would be nicer just to sit in silence and sip tea. But it would have been awkward because he wasn’t having any.
Then I walked down to the Women’s Alliance, which had its headquarters and a café right down the road from his house. I was there very early, but luckily there were some tables for the café outside, so I sat down and wrote yesterday’s entry by hand. Then a little later, two women showed up, and I hoped they were some of the ones I had the names of to contact. They were all whities’ names. But Sam and Ellie, the women, were just tourists, here for some breakfast, so we all ate together. They lived in Goa, but were from England and Cyprus. After they left, I wondered a round a little bit because more and more people were finally starting to show up. I asked around, and found one lady on my contact list (Sharon Hoffman), and she suggested Alex, her colleague, also participate in the interview. Sharon turned out to have lived in New Orleans for a while, so we hit it off about that. I liked them both a lot, and they were so nice to submit to the interview without any advance notice. I hadn’t had any contact information for them. On the way out, I got a video about the NGO and the Ladakhi region, thinking it could count at research, but it also looked moderately interesting to me, too. It’s about local Ladakhi’s traveling to the West to see the “civilized” world, but of course they also see all the downsides that they don’t have to deal with, like nursing homes and landfills.
After Women’s Alliance, I tried to walk to LeDEG, another NGO right down the road, but I couldn’t find it despite Alex’s very good map. So I kept walking into town, and eventually got a taxi out to the guy that the Mr. Dorjay, the governor, had recommended I talk to. It turned out to be basically in the next town, so it was a long taxi drive, and then once we got to the Power Project Development Compound itself, the taxi driver had to take me around to a few different buildings, trying to help me find the right guy. Eventually, I found him, and he had a line out his door, so I knew this was going to be a foreshortened interview. I did get to skip to the head of the line (Why does this happen, I wonder?).
I forgot to say that I had gone home to change out of my green salwar-kameez because I realized it was doing more harm than good—it was Indian culture, not Ladakhi, and I was interviewing a lot of Ladakhis. So when I went out to PPD to interview SK Kakroo, I had changed to pants and a white kurta. And wouldn’t you know it, he was Indian. But I am not good at guessing from the names because I don’t know any of the languages I’m working with.
The “interview” was not particularly successful. He was very brusk, and also had his executive engineer, MK Varikoo, in the office with him. Both answered the questions, and neither seemed happy with me. But I got a few smiles out of them, so maybe they were just rushed and over-busy, and it was very nice of them to meet with me at all. I didn’t even ask to record this interview because I was pretty sure they wouldn’t want it recorded, and it would just set a poor tone to begin the talk that way. I probably only talked with them 15 minutes, which was frustrating considering how far I’d ridden to get there.
They did recommend I talk to someone else, Dean Mahmood, the executive engineer who would have the discharge data on the Indus. Of course this was very much of interest to me, so I walked around the compound to find this guy, but ended up finding only a few of his colleagues, who said he wasn’t in that day. Curse the luck, and it was my last day in Leh! I talked to his colleagues for a while. I seemed to attract an entourage wherever I went, which was weird. I don’t know if my research is really all that interesting, or if it’s just because I’m different and foreign and seemingly interesting. But anyway, after another short interview with this “subsidiary” guy, he mentioned I could walk to the Indus from where we were.
I was very excited about this possibility. Suddenly, the long taxi ride didn’t seem like a waste. I managed to go get some shots of the Indus, and it really was beautiful. There was a bridge over it, covered in prayer flags. The river was so small, it was hard to think of it supporting all of Pakistan. It will be interesting to see Tabby’s photos of the same river, and try to reconcile the two.
I then called the LeDEG guy to get the directions to his place. Grabbed a taxi straight back to him place, and conducted the interview, which he let me record. His name was a difficult-to-pronounce Sonam Jorgyes. He was helpful, but in a hurry, so the interview, while dense, was only about 30 minutes. I had to use the video camera, not the camera-camera’s video function because the batteries were dead. I was really nervous about the sound, but at least it was the first indoor-interview. Later, I at least found the sound was hearable, if nothing else.
Afterward, Sarah and I went to get a yak-cheese sandwich for dinner. I didn’t do my interview transcriptions that night as planned. We instead packed up for most of the evening, got all our bills taken care of, etc. Then went back to the roof to sleep, but it was already raining. It stopped eventually, so we got some sleep at least. Despite our rude Belgian roofmate.
Then I walked down to the Women’s Alliance, which had its headquarters and a café right down the road from his house. I was there very early, but luckily there were some tables for the café outside, so I sat down and wrote yesterday’s entry by hand. Then a little later, two women showed up, and I hoped they were some of the ones I had the names of to contact. They were all whities’ names. But Sam and Ellie, the women, were just tourists, here for some breakfast, so we all ate together. They lived in Goa, but were from England and Cyprus. After they left, I wondered a round a little bit because more and more people were finally starting to show up. I asked around, and found one lady on my contact list (Sharon Hoffman), and she suggested Alex, her colleague, also participate in the interview. Sharon turned out to have lived in New Orleans for a while, so we hit it off about that. I liked them both a lot, and they were so nice to submit to the interview without any advance notice. I hadn’t had any contact information for them. On the way out, I got a video about the NGO and the Ladakhi region, thinking it could count at research, but it also looked moderately interesting to me, too. It’s about local Ladakhi’s traveling to the West to see the “civilized” world, but of course they also see all the downsides that they don’t have to deal with, like nursing homes and landfills.
After Women’s Alliance, I tried to walk to LeDEG, another NGO right down the road, but I couldn’t find it despite Alex’s very good map. So I kept walking into town, and eventually got a taxi out to the guy that the Mr. Dorjay, the governor, had recommended I talk to. It turned out to be basically in the next town, so it was a long taxi drive, and then once we got to the Power Project Development Compound itself, the taxi driver had to take me around to a few different buildings, trying to help me find the right guy. Eventually, I found him, and he had a line out his door, so I knew this was going to be a foreshortened interview. I did get to skip to the head of the line (Why does this happen, I wonder?).
I forgot to say that I had gone home to change out of my green salwar-kameez because I realized it was doing more harm than good—it was Indian culture, not Ladakhi, and I was interviewing a lot of Ladakhis. So when I went out to PPD to interview SK Kakroo, I had changed to pants and a white kurta. And wouldn’t you know it, he was Indian. But I am not good at guessing from the names because I don’t know any of the languages I’m working with.
The “interview” was not particularly successful. He was very brusk, and also had his executive engineer, MK Varikoo, in the office with him. Both answered the questions, and neither seemed happy with me. But I got a few smiles out of them, so maybe they were just rushed and over-busy, and it was very nice of them to meet with me at all. I didn’t even ask to record this interview because I was pretty sure they wouldn’t want it recorded, and it would just set a poor tone to begin the talk that way. I probably only talked with them 15 minutes, which was frustrating considering how far I’d ridden to get there.
They did recommend I talk to someone else, Dean Mahmood, the executive engineer who would have the discharge data on the Indus. Of course this was very much of interest to me, so I walked around the compound to find this guy, but ended up finding only a few of his colleagues, who said he wasn’t in that day. Curse the luck, and it was my last day in Leh! I talked to his colleagues for a while. I seemed to attract an entourage wherever I went, which was weird. I don’t know if my research is really all that interesting, or if it’s just because I’m different and foreign and seemingly interesting. But anyway, after another short interview with this “subsidiary” guy, he mentioned I could walk to the Indus from where we were.
I was very excited about this possibility. Suddenly, the long taxi ride didn’t seem like a waste. I managed to go get some shots of the Indus, and it really was beautiful. There was a bridge over it, covered in prayer flags. The river was so small, it was hard to think of it supporting all of Pakistan. It will be interesting to see Tabby’s photos of the same river, and try to reconcile the two.
I then called the LeDEG guy to get the directions to his place. Grabbed a taxi straight back to him place, and conducted the interview, which he let me record. His name was a difficult-to-pronounce Sonam Jorgyes. He was helpful, but in a hurry, so the interview, while dense, was only about 30 minutes. I had to use the video camera, not the camera-camera’s video function because the batteries were dead. I was really nervous about the sound, but at least it was the first indoor-interview. Later, I at least found the sound was hearable, if nothing else.
Afterward, Sarah and I went to get a yak-cheese sandwich for dinner. I didn’t do my interview transcriptions that night as planned. We instead packed up for most of the evening, got all our bills taken care of, etc. Then went back to the roof to sleep, but it was already raining. It stopped eventually, so we got some sleep at least. Despite our rude Belgian roofmate.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Leh: Day 3
This morning I went to the same Wildlife Office as before because there was a sign that said Ladakh Hill Development Council, which was whom I was going to try to meet with today. But I asked someone at the door, and they laughed and said no it wasn’t and then gave complicated instructions that I wasn’t sure were in English, so I found a phone to try to call Moses K, my contact in the office. I told him I was at the taxi stand and he said “oh, good!” my heart leapt! I was in the right part of town after all! Then he added “Take a taxi to our offices.” At first I thought I’d try to walk, because one of my crappy maps of Leh showed it not too far away. But I lost my confidence partway there, and went back to take a taxi.
There was no red carpet at the place and though there were several police asking my business, I think it was mostly to help me, since there were no metal detectors involved. I met with Moses, though he quickly got me audience with his boss, the chief executive council (woah) of the Ladakh Development Board. “You can stop wasting your time with me” said Moses. I had a brief meeting, which seems to be par for the course. I’ll try to remember to set up, or plan on these pre-interviews. We made an appointment for tomorrow morning at his house for the real interview. Then I ent back to Moses’s office for some tea. The was very nice, though the small talk was somewhat belabored. In the end, he asked me to email him If I needed any help, and to let him know all the places I’d be going so he could see if he could find me any help there. So nice of him! I saw some stupa-eyes, and we talked about religion some, so I asked if he was Buddhist. Surprisingly, he was Christian, and the stupa-eyes were a gift from Nepal. I guess I did only see those eyes on the stupas at Nepal. He got me a car back to the market, which was incredibly nice of him. The driver and his companion were very amenable, but I don’t think they spoke much English.
Next I went to see if Jigmet Dakpa was back in his office after yesterday’s emergency. I didn’t see him in there at first, but he was in the corner eating his lunch. He finished up quickly when he saw me, which might have made me feel bad, but everyone is so happy and friendly, it’s hard to feel bad about anything here.
He said he could do the interview now, but when I started to set up the camera, he balked, even though we’d talked about it. So I ended up not recording, but taking detailed notes, which I hope I can read later. I better type them up quickly while my memory is fresh. He was very kindly and seemed amused by the lacunae in my knowledge. A few times as he gave me a lesson, he would jovially command “Educate yourself!” he studied as a civil engineer then switched to forestry and studied the 2 ½ years at FRI! So we talked about little about Dehradun.
I then called the name I’d gotten from the CEC, at the PPD. He said to try to come by that day, but I only had ½ an hour to get to his place. I went back to the hotel to get some supplies, but it took longer than I thought to walk back from where I was, so I’ll have to see the guy tomorrow, which he said was OK.
Sarah and I had a long tea to kill time before meeting Lena, Catherine, Nadine, and whatever entourage they had picked up that day, for dinner. They’d picked up a couple of Aussies and a guy from Detroit, for their Sunday bike ride. Dinner was nice, though I was still full from my Nutella pancake.
We slept on the roof again, and watched the Watcher in the Woods, as well as the stars, which were amazing. I saw a few fall.
There was no red carpet at the place and though there were several police asking my business, I think it was mostly to help me, since there were no metal detectors involved. I met with Moses, though he quickly got me audience with his boss, the chief executive council (woah) of the Ladakh Development Board. “You can stop wasting your time with me” said Moses. I had a brief meeting, which seems to be par for the course. I’ll try to remember to set up, or plan on these pre-interviews. We made an appointment for tomorrow morning at his house for the real interview. Then I ent back to Moses’s office for some tea. The was very nice, though the small talk was somewhat belabored. In the end, he asked me to email him If I needed any help, and to let him know all the places I’d be going so he could see if he could find me any help there. So nice of him! I saw some stupa-eyes, and we talked about religion some, so I asked if he was Buddhist. Surprisingly, he was Christian, and the stupa-eyes were a gift from Nepal. I guess I did only see those eyes on the stupas at Nepal. He got me a car back to the market, which was incredibly nice of him. The driver and his companion were very amenable, but I don’t think they spoke much English.
Next I went to see if Jigmet Dakpa was back in his office after yesterday’s emergency. I didn’t see him in there at first, but he was in the corner eating his lunch. He finished up quickly when he saw me, which might have made me feel bad, but everyone is so happy and friendly, it’s hard to feel bad about anything here.
He said he could do the interview now, but when I started to set up the camera, he balked, even though we’d talked about it. So I ended up not recording, but taking detailed notes, which I hope I can read later. I better type them up quickly while my memory is fresh. He was very kindly and seemed amused by the lacunae in my knowledge. A few times as he gave me a lesson, he would jovially command “Educate yourself!” he studied as a civil engineer then switched to forestry and studied the 2 ½ years at FRI! So we talked about little about Dehradun.
I then called the name I’d gotten from the CEC, at the PPD. He said to try to come by that day, but I only had ½ an hour to get to his place. I went back to the hotel to get some supplies, but it took longer than I thought to walk back from where I was, so I’ll have to see the guy tomorrow, which he said was OK.
Sarah and I had a long tea to kill time before meeting Lena, Catherine, Nadine, and whatever entourage they had picked up that day, for dinner. They’d picked up a couple of Aussies and a guy from Detroit, for their Sunday bike ride. Dinner was nice, though I was still full from my Nutella pancake.
We slept on the roof again, and watched the Watcher in the Woods, as well as the stars, which were amazing. I saw a few fall.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Leh: Day 2
I think the acclimatization caught up with me today. I went into the office for the second, “real” interview with Mr. Dakpa, but he wasn’t there. So I ran back to my hotel, leaving my camera and stuff all set up. Of course I was completely out of breath, but that had been normal since I got off the plane. I grabbed some extra cash, which is what I had gone back for, and then ran back to the office, where he still wasn’t yet. After sitting a little longer, adding a few potential questions to the trough, someone came up and told me he’d had an emergency meeting with the electoral council, or something like that, so might not be in all day. I was disappointed, but I said I’d come back later. I packed up my stuff and went to the post office on the way to the internet place. I mailed all 51 of my postcards, and I only have about 15 left to write. It took forever to lick and affix 102 stamps, but I was able to listen to interesting conversations of other tourists.
I went to an internet place to write down the contacts information for some people because I didn’t feel like going all the way back to the hotel.
I went to an internet place to write down the contacts information for some people because I didn’t feel like going all the way back to the hotel.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Leh: Day 1
I just finished up a pre-interview with Jigmet Dakpa, who works in the Department of Wildlife Protection as the Conservator of Forest (Wildlife). Dr. Hussain had recommended the Wildlife Warden, Tahil Shawl, but when I called him, he was out of town, so he gave mr Mr. Dakpa’s number, and Mr. Dakpa said he could only meet today, so I rushed to get ready to meet with him. He was already meeting with a journalist/documentarian, Janki Kathayat, who was doing a few projects on climate change and wildlife in the Ladakh region. She also turned out to be incredibly helpful, so I really lucked out. They both recommended a lot of government agencies to go in town, and by the end of the interview, Mr. Dakpa even offered to give me a guide to take me around to these offices tomorrow, since they are difficult to find online.
Both of them also recommended I visit Jammu, if not Srinagar, to talk to farmers in the villages of the area, particularly right along the border. Ms. Kathayat offered her help in getting me military clearance to go there, which is unbelievable, but I’m still not sure of the safety issues. She said if I went with a local person, they would have a better sense of when there is real danger, and when not. This may be so, but she also makes “finding some farmers to talk to” sound like a simple task, when it’s been one of the most daunting of this whole project. She also looked at my release form, and said it was pretty standard, and she doesn’t have trouble getting hers signed for her documentaries. She also said there was no need to get it translated because people in Ladakh speak better English than they do Hindi. Their native languages are too varied for translation into all of them. So that’s good news—no translation needed. Whew!
In Jammu, specifically, Ms. K particularly suggested visiting Joria, Lacampur, Callor, Undamphus. Not sure of spellings of any of these. Joria is very agricultural. Also look into the Iggo Phey canal in Ladakh. It’s nearly complete, but there’s no water for it from the Indus—here, before its tributaries dump water, it is very small. Himas. They recommended talking to the Flood Control Department, and the Command Area Development Department, which builds canals, for one thing. Meet with administrative staff as well as ministers, and as well as locals. Meet with the External Affairs Ministry in Delhi, regarding the Indus Waters Treaty. Also look into the Neemo Bandgo aachi dam project, with Mr. Sharma as the project manager. Look at Spituk, a village. Meet with the Board Development Corporation and the Board Development Department. Go to Chogiasmsar (part of the city) for these guys.
Ms. K’s documentaries: Human Invasion, about turtles in the Sunderbans mangrove system (island, very large, a few hours from Calcutta). Survival Sunderbans, about the River Lung in the valley.
Both of them also recommended I visit Jammu, if not Srinagar, to talk to farmers in the villages of the area, particularly right along the border. Ms. Kathayat offered her help in getting me military clearance to go there, which is unbelievable, but I’m still not sure of the safety issues. She said if I went with a local person, they would have a better sense of when there is real danger, and when not. This may be so, but she also makes “finding some farmers to talk to” sound like a simple task, when it’s been one of the most daunting of this whole project. She also looked at my release form, and said it was pretty standard, and she doesn’t have trouble getting hers signed for her documentaries. She also said there was no need to get it translated because people in Ladakh speak better English than they do Hindi. Their native languages are too varied for translation into all of them. So that’s good news—no translation needed. Whew!
In Jammu, specifically, Ms. K particularly suggested visiting Joria, Lacampur, Callor, Undamphus. Not sure of spellings of any of these. Joria is very agricultural. Also look into the Iggo Phey canal in Ladakh. It’s nearly complete, but there’s no water for it from the Indus—here, before its tributaries dump water, it is very small. Himas. They recommended talking to the Flood Control Department, and the Command Area Development Department, which builds canals, for one thing. Meet with administrative staff as well as ministers, and as well as locals. Meet with the External Affairs Ministry in Delhi, regarding the Indus Waters Treaty. Also look into the Neemo Bandgo aachi dam project, with Mr. Sharma as the project manager. Look at Spituk, a village. Meet with the Board Development Corporation and the Board Development Department. Go to Chogiasmsar (part of the city) for these guys.
Ms. K’s documentaries: Human Invasion, about turtles in the Sunderbans mangrove system (island, very large, a few hours from Calcutta). Survival Sunderbans, about the River Lung in the valley.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Long day of travel from Dehradun to Delhi
Today I left the Wildlife Institute. It was so nice to have all those facilities to use for that week. I feel really behind on everything because of the days of traveling I took first, but at least this way I won’t lose momentum by traveling in the middle, or at the end.
I spent the week reading reports, looking up contacts online, looking up data online. Besides the data, it was basically what I’ve been doing to a lesser degree already on this project. The first day I had access to the internet, Saturday the 28th of June, I worked for 10 hours straight, and got myself locked out of the dorm, so I slept in Dr. Badola’s office. Luckily she had a couch.
At the moment, I’m in the airplane on the way to Leh. “On the way to Leh,” heh. Outside the window is a glorious view of mountains capped with snow! I know a pictures would come out crummy, so I won’t even bother. But it’s beautiful, with the black and white relief.
Anyway, Dr. Badola and Dr. Hussain at the WII were so incredibly helpful. They pointed me in the direction of different contacts for the same organizations I’d identified, more specific names and emails, different from the heads of the office I’d found, and who are so uncommunicative.
On Thursday, I finally sat down to call the people who didn’t answer by email, or for whom I didn’t have emails. Some were helpful by phone (the Central Water Commission quickly gave me two contacts in the areas that are better suited to the project, Chandigarh and Simla), and some were incomprehensible. A few for whom I had no email address, and who were having trouble with the language barrier, asked that I send them an email so they could better understand what I was doing. However, I think I must have written their emails down wrong. The accents can sometimes be so heavy.
Now the mountains outside are brown and rocky. They are so barren! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like being on another planet, or the moon.
But enough about my progress, or lack thereof. I need to talk about my nightmare of a day. I’m constantly tied up in knots about days of travel, and it turns out I have good reason to be. Today went about as badly as possible, without me actually missing any connections. So I don’t know if this will make me more nervous about travel days, or less, since it could barely get any worse. I’ll go into detail because I’m so baffled by the whole ordeal.
I thought I had it all under control when I got a fellow student at the WII to order me a rickshaw to come up to the campus and take me to the Interstate Bus Terminal (ISBT). However, as I was walking up to the rickshaw, a couple outright stole it from me! I was dumbfounded by how blatantly rude they were. So I had to order another rickshaw, at cost to myself in the form of the STD/ISD/PCO phone calls that were made. This rickshaw offered me a price 40 rupees higher than the other one would have been. I’ve been in no position to bargain all day because I really needed to go to wherever I was going, and needed to get there quickly. So I didn’t argue much. But it was frustrating that Sahas’s work negotiating me a good rate was also stolen by that couple. So, I got to the bus station much later than I meant to—it was about 2. Some of this lateness was my fault—not realizing how long it would take to close up shop, pay for room and board etc, at the WII hostel. Packing up wasn’t too bad because I’d done most of it the night before. I left my suitcase in the office of the hostel, so hopefully it will be safe there. Dr. Hussain must have forgotten to tell them I would be doing that because they seemed really unsure about the process when I finally was able to communicate that I wasn’t taking it with me.
So, I got the ISBT, and went window to window, trying to find some information about when and where the next Delhi bus was. I was happy to take deluxe, non-, AC, or non-. But no one spoke English at the first two windows. Either that, or they just blatantly ignored me. I’m not really sure what’s worse because when they don’t speak English well, they tend to tell you “yes” no matter what you ask, which is confusing, and they tend to tell you any answer rather than figure out what you’re actually asking and figuring out how to tell me the correct answer. So the first information I got about the “next” Delhi bus was that it was at 10;30, which I knew was false because they went hourly, even on Sundays. Finally, someone who spoke good English told me where (stall 40) and when (3pm) the bus would be leaving.
I went to sit near stall 40 and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally a bus pulled into stall 39 at 3:15. I asked the crowd that instantly thronged around the bus whether it was going to Delhi. But I was told “They are taking Jaipur riders first.” At first I thought maybe the bus was going to Jaipur via Delhi, so I wasn’t too concerned. But then someone told me I should get in line for the bus tickets, which was weird because I knew the tickets were sold on board the bus. But I went and got into the “line” just in case. The “line” consisted of a group of Indians, all with cash in hand, thrusting it towards the attendants. I guess whoever got the cash snatched up was first in line. Eventually, from scraps, I picked up that the bus was basically being auctioned to either Delhi or Jaipur—whichever group bought the most tickets. Which seems like an unsustainable system. So we were still in line for the regular bus that would leave later, which let me tell you, looked a little grim. First of all because there were about 50 people in line, and second of all because the bus really looked uncomfortable. I hadn’t been set on having AC or a “deluxe” bus, but a little room for my huge backpack would have been a must. But that one sold out, and there were no prospects for another because of the rain, I guess. And this rumored landslide.
Luckily, I found three kids (students) in the same predicament, and long story short, we decided to share a taxi back to Delhi. I offered to pay more for it, and in return they offered to accompany me on the second part of my trip to VasantKunj, Jenny’s part of the city. They said it wasn’t safe riding alone at night. Ignoring the part where I’d only just met them an hour before, I could tell they were being quite chivalrous, and I know for sure now that I made a good character judgment in the end.
I had really looked forward to sleeping on the bus since I hadn’t slept much the night before, up late packing, up early paying off debts and having breakfast. But the boys kept asking me lots of questions and wanting to chat, which was sweet, but annoying when they would do it right as I dozed off. They got me some dinner, chat and some paella, as well as a lassi and a piece of gum.
Finally, I arrived at Jenny’s, where she took good care of me, and then I slept for one blessed hour before the taxi I ordered was due to arrive. Only, it never came. I tried calling them (waking Jenny to get the number), but they had no record of the order. Just as I was ordering another one, a rickshaw drove by, so I was able to catch it. This was very lucky because if I’d been in that neighborhood any longer, the packs of dogs would have probably torn me apart. Nothing swayed them or scared them.
Got to the airport, had been dropped at the wrong terminal and abandoned. Another auto driver offered to take me to the other terminal for 100 rupees! It was ridiculous. I said I’d walk, but he said it was 4 kilometers the back way, which was a mistake on his part. I said I’d pay 40 rupees max if it was 4 kilometers. After all, he’d still be at the airport and able to get another fare right away. He said OK, and he drove me what was significiantly less than 4 km. I got out and gave him a 50, but he said no, and demanded a 100. I argued with him but he was obstinate, as if we hadn’t had our bargaining conversation at all. Finally, I gave him the 100rupee bill that I’d been carrying around for weeks because no one would take it—it was really ratty and had some weird stickers on it. He tried to give it back to me, but I was so angry at him, I jumped out of the auto and said “Huh! I guess you should have taken the 50 after all! Hope you’re happy with your life.” And ran through the ticket gate to where he couldn’t follow. I hadn’t been that angry in a very long time. It was partly because I’d had such bad transportation luck the whole day so far.
After that, it was pretty clear sailing. I got through the tickets bureaucracy pretty easy, thanks to going to Nepal, and was sitting in the terminal waiting, a full hour before the flight took off. There was a slight delay once we got on, maybe because of the rain. They served breakfast, and gave water, and I had taken my altitude sickness pill, and I was sure things would be looking up. And as you saw from my interjections earlier in the entry, things certainly looking more beautiful.
I spent the week reading reports, looking up contacts online, looking up data online. Besides the data, it was basically what I’ve been doing to a lesser degree already on this project. The first day I had access to the internet, Saturday the 28th of June, I worked for 10 hours straight, and got myself locked out of the dorm, so I slept in Dr. Badola’s office. Luckily she had a couch.
At the moment, I’m in the airplane on the way to Leh. “On the way to Leh,” heh. Outside the window is a glorious view of mountains capped with snow! I know a pictures would come out crummy, so I won’t even bother. But it’s beautiful, with the black and white relief.
Anyway, Dr. Badola and Dr. Hussain at the WII were so incredibly helpful. They pointed me in the direction of different contacts for the same organizations I’d identified, more specific names and emails, different from the heads of the office I’d found, and who are so uncommunicative.
On Thursday, I finally sat down to call the people who didn’t answer by email, or for whom I didn’t have emails. Some were helpful by phone (the Central Water Commission quickly gave me two contacts in the areas that are better suited to the project, Chandigarh and Simla), and some were incomprehensible. A few for whom I had no email address, and who were having trouble with the language barrier, asked that I send them an email so they could better understand what I was doing. However, I think I must have written their emails down wrong. The accents can sometimes be so heavy.
Now the mountains outside are brown and rocky. They are so barren! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like being on another planet, or the moon.
But enough about my progress, or lack thereof. I need to talk about my nightmare of a day. I’m constantly tied up in knots about days of travel, and it turns out I have good reason to be. Today went about as badly as possible, without me actually missing any connections. So I don’t know if this will make me more nervous about travel days, or less, since it could barely get any worse. I’ll go into detail because I’m so baffled by the whole ordeal.
I thought I had it all under control when I got a fellow student at the WII to order me a rickshaw to come up to the campus and take me to the Interstate Bus Terminal (ISBT). However, as I was walking up to the rickshaw, a couple outright stole it from me! I was dumbfounded by how blatantly rude they were. So I had to order another rickshaw, at cost to myself in the form of the STD/ISD/PCO phone calls that were made. This rickshaw offered me a price 40 rupees higher than the other one would have been. I’ve been in no position to bargain all day because I really needed to go to wherever I was going, and needed to get there quickly. So I didn’t argue much. But it was frustrating that Sahas’s work negotiating me a good rate was also stolen by that couple. So, I got to the bus station much later than I meant to—it was about 2. Some of this lateness was my fault—not realizing how long it would take to close up shop, pay for room and board etc, at the WII hostel. Packing up wasn’t too bad because I’d done most of it the night before. I left my suitcase in the office of the hostel, so hopefully it will be safe there. Dr. Hussain must have forgotten to tell them I would be doing that because they seemed really unsure about the process when I finally was able to communicate that I wasn’t taking it with me.
So, I got the ISBT, and went window to window, trying to find some information about when and where the next Delhi bus was. I was happy to take deluxe, non-, AC, or non-. But no one spoke English at the first two windows. Either that, or they just blatantly ignored me. I’m not really sure what’s worse because when they don’t speak English well, they tend to tell you “yes” no matter what you ask, which is confusing, and they tend to tell you any answer rather than figure out what you’re actually asking and figuring out how to tell me the correct answer. So the first information I got about the “next” Delhi bus was that it was at 10;30, which I knew was false because they went hourly, even on Sundays. Finally, someone who spoke good English told me where (stall 40) and when (3pm) the bus would be leaving.
I went to sit near stall 40 and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally a bus pulled into stall 39 at 3:15. I asked the crowd that instantly thronged around the bus whether it was going to Delhi. But I was told “They are taking Jaipur riders first.” At first I thought maybe the bus was going to Jaipur via Delhi, so I wasn’t too concerned. But then someone told me I should get in line for the bus tickets, which was weird because I knew the tickets were sold on board the bus. But I went and got into the “line” just in case. The “line” consisted of a group of Indians, all with cash in hand, thrusting it towards the attendants. I guess whoever got the cash snatched up was first in line. Eventually, from scraps, I picked up that the bus was basically being auctioned to either Delhi or Jaipur—whichever group bought the most tickets. Which seems like an unsustainable system. So we were still in line for the regular bus that would leave later, which let me tell you, looked a little grim. First of all because there were about 50 people in line, and second of all because the bus really looked uncomfortable. I hadn’t been set on having AC or a “deluxe” bus, but a little room for my huge backpack would have been a must. But that one sold out, and there were no prospects for another because of the rain, I guess. And this rumored landslide.
Luckily, I found three kids (students) in the same predicament, and long story short, we decided to share a taxi back to Delhi. I offered to pay more for it, and in return they offered to accompany me on the second part of my trip to VasantKunj, Jenny’s part of the city. They said it wasn’t safe riding alone at night. Ignoring the part where I’d only just met them an hour before, I could tell they were being quite chivalrous, and I know for sure now that I made a good character judgment in the end.
I had really looked forward to sleeping on the bus since I hadn’t slept much the night before, up late packing, up early paying off debts and having breakfast. But the boys kept asking me lots of questions and wanting to chat, which was sweet, but annoying when they would do it right as I dozed off. They got me some dinner, chat and some paella, as well as a lassi and a piece of gum.
Finally, I arrived at Jenny’s, where she took good care of me, and then I slept for one blessed hour before the taxi I ordered was due to arrive. Only, it never came. I tried calling them (waking Jenny to get the number), but they had no record of the order. Just as I was ordering another one, a rickshaw drove by, so I was able to catch it. This was very lucky because if I’d been in that neighborhood any longer, the packs of dogs would have probably torn me apart. Nothing swayed them or scared them.
Got to the airport, had been dropped at the wrong terminal and abandoned. Another auto driver offered to take me to the other terminal for 100 rupees! It was ridiculous. I said I’d walk, but he said it was 4 kilometers the back way, which was a mistake on his part. I said I’d pay 40 rupees max if it was 4 kilometers. After all, he’d still be at the airport and able to get another fare right away. He said OK, and he drove me what was significiantly less than 4 km. I got out and gave him a 50, but he said no, and demanded a 100. I argued with him but he was obstinate, as if we hadn’t had our bargaining conversation at all. Finally, I gave him the 100rupee bill that I’d been carrying around for weeks because no one would take it—it was really ratty and had some weird stickers on it. He tried to give it back to me, but I was so angry at him, I jumped out of the auto and said “Huh! I guess you should have taken the 50 after all! Hope you’re happy with your life.” And ran through the ticket gate to where he couldn’t follow. I hadn’t been that angry in a very long time. It was partly because I’d had such bad transportation luck the whole day so far.
After that, it was pretty clear sailing. I got through the tickets bureaucracy pretty easy, thanks to going to Nepal, and was sitting in the terminal waiting, a full hour before the flight took off. There was a slight delay once we got on, maybe because of the rain. They served breakfast, and gave water, and I had taken my altitude sickness pill, and I was sure things would be looking up. And as you saw from my interjections earlier in the entry, things certainly looking more beautiful.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Book Report: On the Edge of Darkness
On the Edge of Darkness: Conversations About Conquering Depression
Kathy Cronkite
I. About the book and authors
1) Concept of book
§ Cronkite cast a wide net to talk with dozens of people who have in some way experienced depression, and gets their thoughts on a variety of topics. There are celebrities (very successful people), mental health professionals, family members of people with depression.
§ Many of the entries are, as the title suggests, very conversational—they are probably transcriptions of interviews. Many of the more professional opinions are better organized, and obviously have more scientific research behind them. It’s interesting to see the clinical view and the layman’s view laid side-to-side on so many topics.
2) About Kathy Cronkite
§ Former sufferer of unipolar depression, and currently an advocate for depression awareness, here in Austin as latest I can track. She is an author, has had a few other jobs in shows business, and is Walter Cronkite’s daughter.
II. Summary of Book
1) Chapter 1: The Dog and I
§ Cronkite talks about two images of depression: a black hole, and Churchill’s image of a black dog. She prefers this second image—something with you that people not might realize is even there, but you’re constantly aware of it. She gives the straightforward history of her lifelong suffering of depression and the relief when she finally was able to treat is successfully. It depended on her recognizing that it was a chronic illness that she would always be recovering from.
2) Chapter 2: It Takes One to Know One
§ Since it was Mike Wallace’s admission of having depression that gave her courage, she starts off with his account of his own depression. It is interesting that as the accounts progress through the book, one emerging theme is that they list all of the things that were bothering them at the time—in Mike Wallace’s case, a lawsuit, and some worry about his career. But as he and others eventually determine, these things are separate from the disease itself. Everyone has hard things that they have to suffer through in life, but not everyone is victim to the hopeless despondency of depression that renders them incapable of dealing with the issues. Wallace’s account focuses more on his physical symptomotology than his mental state
3) Chapter 3: What Is Depression?
§ A discussion on the colloquial use of the word “depressed,” versus the actual clinical disease. As comes up many times later in the book, this overlap may lead to misunderstandings about what depression actually is.
§ In this chapter, Cronkite mainly talks about bipolar and unipolar. Bipolar has a strong genetic component, and occurs by some studies more or less equally in men. Women are much more likely to suffer from unipolar depression (1:4 by one study). See also the attachment at the end of this book report, with the most up-to-date clinical diagnostic tools for various types of depression.
§ Depression can kill you if untreated. Some of the contributor’s discussions in this chapter made some clear metaphors that opened my eyes—I will stick with the metaphor of diabetes (II). There is a strong genetic component. But people do have some control over whether or not it manifests; but even people who avoid sugar all their lives can still succumb. It also can be treated with ongoing care, but can easily kill you if ignored. This made me think of a literary work, The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Goethe. It comes at the end of a longer conversation, also interesting, but the gist is captured here:"Human nature," I continued, "has its limits. It is able to endure a certain degree of joy, sorrow, and pain, but becomes annihilated as soon as this measure is exceeded. The question, therefore, is, not whether a man is strong or weak, but whether he is able to endure the measure of his sufferings. The suffering may be moral or physical; and in my opinion it is just as absurd to call a man a coward who destroys himself, as to call a man a coward who dies of a malignant fever."Later in the book, there is a moment with Cronkite heard a woman on a radio show arguing that if assisted suicide is okayed for people with chronic disease, people with depression should have the right to make this choice, too. This may have been somewhat the case in Goethe’s time, but the Cronkite wanted very much to make the argument to the caller that 80-90% of cases are successfully treated. There is some more discussion of this in chapter 9, but that chapter is more focused on individual’s experiences with it (but obviously with no one who attempted successfully).
§ This is the first chapter that has a lot of different voices giving their experience. It drives home that depression can have a lot of varying symptoms and degrees of intensity, and one can see why it might not be a simple diagnosis. There is also distinction between sadness and depression.
4) Chapter 4: Black Dog, White Dog
§ Short chapter on bipolar disorder. I found the chapter by Susan Crosby (Lindsay Crosby’s wife) a more interesting examination of the phenomenon. It was interesting that even though bipolar people sometimes will not want to treat their illness because they miss the “highs” and the energy and feeling of accomplishment, it was the highs, and not the lows, that were completely devastating to the Crosbys.
5) Chapter 5: Effects on a Career
§ This and the next chapter on the stigma go together hand in hand. A lot of the discussion in this chapter was about how sufferers had to hide their depression and treatment from employers, mostly out of fear of judgment.
§ Aside from the stigma, however, there is discussion about the difficulty of carrying on a career with consistency with an untreated affective disorder. The Styrons (writers) had to kind of reset their lives when William came down with an unexpected case of severe unipolar depression late in life.
§ One weakness I found in the book was so many of the contributors had rather atypical careers. A lot of them were in show business or politics. And while I did come to see how those particular freelance-esque careers, when you deal with constant judgment by others, could easily precipitate a depression, for the purposes of looking at it from a management perspective, I think the book misses out a lot on the experience of how everyday life depression would exhibit, in and office for instance. The discussions from psychiatric professionals picked up the slack here, but the first-person accounts still seemed unbalanced.
6) Chapter 6: Overcoming the Stigma and the Shame
§ There are a lot of connections between this chapter and chapter 13, which deals with men and women’s different “relationship” to the disease.
§ Many of the accounts say it’s more than just the stigma of a “mental illness.” Whether true or not, many felt there was less stigma with coming out with a substance abuse disorder. Some felt they would still be judged as having a “moral failing,” rather than a disease. One doctor has heard people call it a “wimp’s disease.”
7) Chapter 7: Substance Abuse
§ Several of the contributors had some substance abuse issues as well. There is an interesting discussion about the connection between substance abuse and depression---and how difficult it can be clinically to determine which is the cause and which is the effect. Or if one is masking another completely. Kitty Dukakis’s story most clearly showed how important it is to get to the root diagnosis to really help someone. Substance abuse can be a way of self-medicating a depression, and then can be a way of prolonging it.
8) Chapter 8: Love’s Labour’s Lost: Susan Crosby
§ Susan Crosby tells the story of her marriage to Lindsay Crosby, son of Bing Crosby, who suffered from bipolar disorder. Interesting points: she spent years and years getting herself therapy to figure out why she was so bothered by things (for instance, his sleeping with other women, going on rampant horse-buying binges). There is more discussion of women’s “place” in society and how it relates to depression (she also exhibited signs of depression eventually). Also interesting that as a celebrity and trust-fund kid, Lindsay was surrounded by false friends who just liked him when he was high and fun, and didn’t try to get him help. In fact, they got him out of the psychiatric ward early before he eventually killed himself. Susan blamed this entourage phenomenon on why it took so long to get him treated.
§ On the celebrity phenomenon, in modern terms: it’s not surprising that Brittney Spears is getting treated for bipolar disorder—would it have gone untreated this long if she hadn’t been a celebrity? Because at the same time, she had more opportunities to exhibit her mania—possibly her symptoms wouldn’t have been so pronounced and easily diagnosable if she hadn’t had lots of money and documentation of her every move.
9) Chapter 9: Suicide
§ One repeated theme in the accounts from everyone is that they all had fleeting glimpses of suicide. For some it was just a thought that it would be great if they never woke up. What’s also interesting, since these are all survivors of depression, is what things prevented it in the end. Personal connections, even though they are hard to maintain as a depressive, are important. While one person did owe a friend her life after an actual attempt, more of them explained that there was just enough of the rational sense of them to realize how much it would have broken their families, or anyone left behind.
§ Joan Rivers’s account of her husband’s suicide, and her own subsequent, eventual suicidal thoughts reminded me of another theme that creeps up throughout the book: that in many ways, depression is contagious. While there are clear studies on the strong genetic component of bipolar disorder, unipolar depression is more common, and does occur in families. The idea of how it can effect friends and families is dealt with in chapter 17.
10) Chapter 10: Leslie Garis
§ An short individual account of a woman’s experience with a very long depression, until she sought treatment successfully.
11) Chapter 11: Ya Gotta Have Heart
§ There is a connection between heart disease and depression. In fact, most patients who have had heart attacks or heart surgery are specifically counseled to be on the lookout for depression.
§ Discussion about whether this is because people are facing their own age and mortality.
§ Cronkite mentions that there is frequently a form of post-traumatic stress syndrome when people undergo any surgery, from discussions half-overheard while anaesthetized.
§ While most of the medical professional in the book have been in mental health, there is an account here from a cardiologist that seems to lack some of the empathy of the others. There is definitely an implication from him that heart disease is a more real disease than depression. Naturally, there can be arguments about whether it is more urgent, or more serious. But this is one time where the conversational tone of the book fails—people aren’t given the succinctness to really state their cases, and some sections, taken out of context, might be misinterpretable.
12) Chapter 12: Living with Loss
§ Death and true loss of course cause sadness. This is normal. One difficulty is deciding when a despondency has become a diagnosable depression that should be treated. There are some arbitrary cut-offs (“three months”) for clinicians, but the chapter does drive home that even though there is a difference between normal sadness and depression, it’s still a gradient, and the line is still something drawn by we humans.
13) Chapter 13: Being Woman, Hard Beset
§ Simplified: is the prevalence of unipolar amongst women hormones or society? There is definitely evidence that there is some connection to hormones (women on birth control pills experience atypical depression more often, pregnant women are least likely to experience depression, and postpartum depression is common).
§ Because of the discussion on hormones, a discussion on seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is brought in here because it is believed to be a hormonal issue (in this case, melatonin).
14) Chapter 14: Lifting the Fog
§ Various treatments for depression: drugs vs. cognitive therapy. Strongest evidence is that both combined is much more effective than either separately.
§ One lesson to take away from this chapter’s testimonies is that treatment is not always straightforward or simple, even once the diagnosis is correct. Many doctors don’t have a clear grasp of drug interactions, which can be particularly problematic if a patient is simultaneously undergoing substance abuse treatment.
§ Cognitive therapy: Cronkite had almost been offended that this could work because it seems like someone telling the patient to will themselves out of it, which she had not ever been successful at doing, until she started medication. The lesson is that the treatment will not be the same from one person to the next, but it’s important to believe that there is something that can work.
15) Chapter 15: Beauty and the Beast
§ Are artists more prone to affective disorders? Does it improve their art?
§ Answer: Artists with bipolar disorder can have great productivity as they enter into their manic phases, and this can give them a creative advantage, because their every thought is sped up.
§ Answer: No, artists are only more susceptible to depression because they feel things more deeply, and sense things more acutely as a matter of course in their work.
§ Answer: Artists are constantly exposing themselves to criticism, which may act as a precipitating event, which would make them more likely to suffer.
§ I didn’t find this chapter particularly enlightening—I think this debate can be very interesting. Artists are by definition atypical. People with mental illness are by definition atypical. How much is this coincidence, and do we as society have something to gain (art, beauty) by an artist’s disease remaining untreated?
16) Chapter 16: Existential Blues
§ How do psychology and spirituality overlap? Some might interpret depression as a distance from god. The author’s experience with religion was helpful to her personally, but ultimately she knew it was a separate issue from her depression, and it remained dangerous to go off her medication.
17) Chapter 17: The Black Dog at Home: Support of Family and Friends
§ This chapter was interesting—it was one of the chapters where there was some disagreement within the testimonies. Sufferers of depression and medical professionals talked about what it was best to do if you suspect or know someone is depressed. Some felt it was best to act as if everything was normal. Some felt it was important to recognize that they are suffering from a disease, and to get them help accordingly.
§ There wasn’t as much discussion as I would have thought about protecting yourself from a depressed family member. It had been mentioned in other places in the book. Obviously, in cases of manic patients, physical protection is necessary. But the potentially “contagious” effects of depression are real, with the learned helplessness of dealing with and caring for someone who just won’t get better.
18) Chapter 18: It Tolls for Thee
§ Depression and marriage. A more specific discussion than the previous chapter. Spouses must be patient, but if they are willing to understand the disease, they can be important in helping wit the diagnosis. They may notice early warning signs before a sufferer does.
§ Mostly this chapter seemed to be a way for the contributors to thank their husbands and wives for putting up with a lot and helping them through.
19) Chapter 19: Families in the Dark
§ A chapter introducing the importance of recognizing that depression can run in families, and why talking about the disease can help make diagnosis, and therefore treatment, easier. It’s a bit of a lead-in to the following two chapters.
20) Chapter 20: Children of Depressed Parents
§ Of all the feelings of helplessness that family members can undergo (see previous chapter), it’s the most crucial time for children. If they don’t understand what’s going on (if the parents doesn’t know, or if the parent is too ashamed to explain), they can easily blame themselves for the irrational moods. Several accounts give what they think is the best way to approach the subject with kids. Several accounts show kids who are still afraid of the disease, and who don’t want to talk about it (Cronkite points out it’s important to explain that it’s a treatable disease, something she feels she may have forgotten to stress to her kids).
§ Cronkite’s son: “One thing [that has changed since finding out about the disease]: I’ve known what’s going on, which has made it a whole lot easier on me. Like if you’re on the fourth floor of a building and there’s an explosion, you have no idea what’s happening, but if you heard on the radio that there’s a bomb in that building or a technical explosion, or something, you’d be less scared because you’d know what was going on.”
21) Chapter 21: Children with Depression
§ People have relatively recently begun diagnosing and really accepting that children can be depressed. It is hard to sort out a depression in a kid, because so much diagnosis is based on criteria like “less interest than normal,” when a kid hasn’t been around long enough to have established a normal baseline.
22) Chapter 22: Old Dogs, New Tricks
§ Deals with depression in older people. Again a more difficult diagnosis than with the mainstream population, for one thing because it’s hard to parse out from dementia. They have a few overlapping symptoms, but more difficult is they often occur at the same time (similar to substance abuse—it’s hard to figure out cause, effect, and treat both effectively).
§ Discussion about whether sadness is a normal part of the aging process. There is, after all, loss—loss of youth, and eventually loss of most friends. Again, the distinction has to be made about when it’s time to cut them off, define it as depression, and get them treatment.
§ The longest essay is from Jennie Forehand, who had one other long entry in the book. Her experience with her mother, who was kicked out of assisted living places and suspected of psychotic disorders before she was diagnosed with depression, was fascinating.
23) Chapter 23: Advice to the Players
§ This short chapter is mostly of very short urgings by many of the contributors to get help for the disease if you have it. The advice ranges from “make sure to take care of yourself” to “see a psychiatrist as quickly as you can.” One doctor stresses the importance of both—he believes in alternative therapies, yoga and meditation for instance, but thinks these are largely just a palliative, while medical treatment can offer a real cure.
§ This is an interesting distinction (palliative vs. cure): if depression is just overwhelming sadness, isn’t something that takes one away from the sadness a cure? No, the argument is again, there is something more basic to depression than just the outside emotions, and with a medical origin, it needs a medical cure (see next chapter).
24) Chapter 24: Healing
§ This chapter stresses that the “cure” makes the recovery sound quick, when in reality it’s a long process and involves a lot of work from the patient. Medication may be necessary, but it doesn’t mean it will work like a switch—it will just make it possible for the patient’s willpower to have some effect.
25) Chapter 25: Ad Astra per Aspera
§ “To the stars through difficulty” (uplifting conclusion)
III. Other themes of the book
1) Images of depression
§ Black dog (Churchill)
§ “mist seeping slowly” (p48); hangover/residue (p49); “dark cloudy gauze” (p118); smoky room (p144); “When I would try to explain to people my experience last time I sobered up, I would tell them about a famous painting traditionally called Nightwatch in Amsterdam. It was painted by Rembrandt. It’s a scene of a bunch of seventeenth-century gentleman on the wall of a fortress keeping watch during some battle. For hundreds of years, it has been assumed that it was a night [scene], because it was so dark, until they cleaned it about ten years ago. To everyone’s amazement, it’s actually a day portrait. That’s what it’s like when alcoholics stop drinking. Everything is still there, the way is still there, the kids are still there, all the same people are still there, it’s just a lot lighter than you thought it was.” (Mary Jones, p93)
§ The comparison to diabetes and other diseases.
§ Moral weakness (p78) (this reference made more in relation to the stigma, not any contributor’s actual view)
§ Disconnect from the rewards system (p91) (one of the more clinical assessments, but very a very interesting way to view it)
§ On sadness vs. depression: like a hangnail versus a shotgun wound (p111)
§ The book of Job as a parable about suffering from depression.
2) Arbitrary distinctions that must be made, or things that exist on a continuum
§ Biological vs. psychological (“the brain is the organ of the mind” p31-2)
§ Beck Inventory—one of the most common ways to measure depression. A 21-question quiz
§ Feeling vs. thinking (p49)
§ Schizophrenia vs. bipolar (p57)
§ Alcoholism <-> depression (p88)
§ A call for help vs. a “genuine” suicide attempt
§ Mind/body/spirit
Kathy Cronkite
I. About the book and authors
1) Concept of book
§ Cronkite cast a wide net to talk with dozens of people who have in some way experienced depression, and gets their thoughts on a variety of topics. There are celebrities (very successful people), mental health professionals, family members of people with depression.
§ Many of the entries are, as the title suggests, very conversational—they are probably transcriptions of interviews. Many of the more professional opinions are better organized, and obviously have more scientific research behind them. It’s interesting to see the clinical view and the layman’s view laid side-to-side on so many topics.
2) About Kathy Cronkite
§ Former sufferer of unipolar depression, and currently an advocate for depression awareness, here in Austin as latest I can track. She is an author, has had a few other jobs in shows business, and is Walter Cronkite’s daughter.
II. Summary of Book
1) Chapter 1: The Dog and I
§ Cronkite talks about two images of depression: a black hole, and Churchill’s image of a black dog. She prefers this second image—something with you that people not might realize is even there, but you’re constantly aware of it. She gives the straightforward history of her lifelong suffering of depression and the relief when she finally was able to treat is successfully. It depended on her recognizing that it was a chronic illness that she would always be recovering from.
2) Chapter 2: It Takes One to Know One
§ Since it was Mike Wallace’s admission of having depression that gave her courage, she starts off with his account of his own depression. It is interesting that as the accounts progress through the book, one emerging theme is that they list all of the things that were bothering them at the time—in Mike Wallace’s case, a lawsuit, and some worry about his career. But as he and others eventually determine, these things are separate from the disease itself. Everyone has hard things that they have to suffer through in life, but not everyone is victim to the hopeless despondency of depression that renders them incapable of dealing with the issues. Wallace’s account focuses more on his physical symptomotology than his mental state
3) Chapter 3: What Is Depression?
§ A discussion on the colloquial use of the word “depressed,” versus the actual clinical disease. As comes up many times later in the book, this overlap may lead to misunderstandings about what depression actually is.
§ In this chapter, Cronkite mainly talks about bipolar and unipolar. Bipolar has a strong genetic component, and occurs by some studies more or less equally in men. Women are much more likely to suffer from unipolar depression (1:4 by one study). See also the attachment at the end of this book report, with the most up-to-date clinical diagnostic tools for various types of depression.
§ Depression can kill you if untreated. Some of the contributor’s discussions in this chapter made some clear metaphors that opened my eyes—I will stick with the metaphor of diabetes (II). There is a strong genetic component. But people do have some control over whether or not it manifests; but even people who avoid sugar all their lives can still succumb. It also can be treated with ongoing care, but can easily kill you if ignored. This made me think of a literary work, The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Goethe. It comes at the end of a longer conversation, also interesting, but the gist is captured here:"Human nature," I continued, "has its limits. It is able to endure a certain degree of joy, sorrow, and pain, but becomes annihilated as soon as this measure is exceeded. The question, therefore, is, not whether a man is strong or weak, but whether he is able to endure the measure of his sufferings. The suffering may be moral or physical; and in my opinion it is just as absurd to call a man a coward who destroys himself, as to call a man a coward who dies of a malignant fever."Later in the book, there is a moment with Cronkite heard a woman on a radio show arguing that if assisted suicide is okayed for people with chronic disease, people with depression should have the right to make this choice, too. This may have been somewhat the case in Goethe’s time, but the Cronkite wanted very much to make the argument to the caller that 80-90% of cases are successfully treated. There is some more discussion of this in chapter 9, but that chapter is more focused on individual’s experiences with it (but obviously with no one who attempted successfully).
§ This is the first chapter that has a lot of different voices giving their experience. It drives home that depression can have a lot of varying symptoms and degrees of intensity, and one can see why it might not be a simple diagnosis. There is also distinction between sadness and depression.
4) Chapter 4: Black Dog, White Dog
§ Short chapter on bipolar disorder. I found the chapter by Susan Crosby (Lindsay Crosby’s wife) a more interesting examination of the phenomenon. It was interesting that even though bipolar people sometimes will not want to treat their illness because they miss the “highs” and the energy and feeling of accomplishment, it was the highs, and not the lows, that were completely devastating to the Crosbys.
5) Chapter 5: Effects on a Career
§ This and the next chapter on the stigma go together hand in hand. A lot of the discussion in this chapter was about how sufferers had to hide their depression and treatment from employers, mostly out of fear of judgment.
§ Aside from the stigma, however, there is discussion about the difficulty of carrying on a career with consistency with an untreated affective disorder. The Styrons (writers) had to kind of reset their lives when William came down with an unexpected case of severe unipolar depression late in life.
§ One weakness I found in the book was so many of the contributors had rather atypical careers. A lot of them were in show business or politics. And while I did come to see how those particular freelance-esque careers, when you deal with constant judgment by others, could easily precipitate a depression, for the purposes of looking at it from a management perspective, I think the book misses out a lot on the experience of how everyday life depression would exhibit, in and office for instance. The discussions from psychiatric professionals picked up the slack here, but the first-person accounts still seemed unbalanced.
6) Chapter 6: Overcoming the Stigma and the Shame
§ There are a lot of connections between this chapter and chapter 13, which deals with men and women’s different “relationship” to the disease.
§ Many of the accounts say it’s more than just the stigma of a “mental illness.” Whether true or not, many felt there was less stigma with coming out with a substance abuse disorder. Some felt they would still be judged as having a “moral failing,” rather than a disease. One doctor has heard people call it a “wimp’s disease.”
7) Chapter 7: Substance Abuse
§ Several of the contributors had some substance abuse issues as well. There is an interesting discussion about the connection between substance abuse and depression---and how difficult it can be clinically to determine which is the cause and which is the effect. Or if one is masking another completely. Kitty Dukakis’s story most clearly showed how important it is to get to the root diagnosis to really help someone. Substance abuse can be a way of self-medicating a depression, and then can be a way of prolonging it.
8) Chapter 8: Love’s Labour’s Lost: Susan Crosby
§ Susan Crosby tells the story of her marriage to Lindsay Crosby, son of Bing Crosby, who suffered from bipolar disorder. Interesting points: she spent years and years getting herself therapy to figure out why she was so bothered by things (for instance, his sleeping with other women, going on rampant horse-buying binges). There is more discussion of women’s “place” in society and how it relates to depression (she also exhibited signs of depression eventually). Also interesting that as a celebrity and trust-fund kid, Lindsay was surrounded by false friends who just liked him when he was high and fun, and didn’t try to get him help. In fact, they got him out of the psychiatric ward early before he eventually killed himself. Susan blamed this entourage phenomenon on why it took so long to get him treated.
§ On the celebrity phenomenon, in modern terms: it’s not surprising that Brittney Spears is getting treated for bipolar disorder—would it have gone untreated this long if she hadn’t been a celebrity? Because at the same time, she had more opportunities to exhibit her mania—possibly her symptoms wouldn’t have been so pronounced and easily diagnosable if she hadn’t had lots of money and documentation of her every move.
9) Chapter 9: Suicide
§ One repeated theme in the accounts from everyone is that they all had fleeting glimpses of suicide. For some it was just a thought that it would be great if they never woke up. What’s also interesting, since these are all survivors of depression, is what things prevented it in the end. Personal connections, even though they are hard to maintain as a depressive, are important. While one person did owe a friend her life after an actual attempt, more of them explained that there was just enough of the rational sense of them to realize how much it would have broken their families, or anyone left behind.
§ Joan Rivers’s account of her husband’s suicide, and her own subsequent, eventual suicidal thoughts reminded me of another theme that creeps up throughout the book: that in many ways, depression is contagious. While there are clear studies on the strong genetic component of bipolar disorder, unipolar depression is more common, and does occur in families. The idea of how it can effect friends and families is dealt with in chapter 17.
10) Chapter 10: Leslie Garis
§ An short individual account of a woman’s experience with a very long depression, until she sought treatment successfully.
11) Chapter 11: Ya Gotta Have Heart
§ There is a connection between heart disease and depression. In fact, most patients who have had heart attacks or heart surgery are specifically counseled to be on the lookout for depression.
§ Discussion about whether this is because people are facing their own age and mortality.
§ Cronkite mentions that there is frequently a form of post-traumatic stress syndrome when people undergo any surgery, from discussions half-overheard while anaesthetized.
§ While most of the medical professional in the book have been in mental health, there is an account here from a cardiologist that seems to lack some of the empathy of the others. There is definitely an implication from him that heart disease is a more real disease than depression. Naturally, there can be arguments about whether it is more urgent, or more serious. But this is one time where the conversational tone of the book fails—people aren’t given the succinctness to really state their cases, and some sections, taken out of context, might be misinterpretable.
12) Chapter 12: Living with Loss
§ Death and true loss of course cause sadness. This is normal. One difficulty is deciding when a despondency has become a diagnosable depression that should be treated. There are some arbitrary cut-offs (“three months”) for clinicians, but the chapter does drive home that even though there is a difference between normal sadness and depression, it’s still a gradient, and the line is still something drawn by we humans.
13) Chapter 13: Being Woman, Hard Beset
§ Simplified: is the prevalence of unipolar amongst women hormones or society? There is definitely evidence that there is some connection to hormones (women on birth control pills experience atypical depression more often, pregnant women are least likely to experience depression, and postpartum depression is common).
§ Because of the discussion on hormones, a discussion on seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is brought in here because it is believed to be a hormonal issue (in this case, melatonin).
14) Chapter 14: Lifting the Fog
§ Various treatments for depression: drugs vs. cognitive therapy. Strongest evidence is that both combined is much more effective than either separately.
§ One lesson to take away from this chapter’s testimonies is that treatment is not always straightforward or simple, even once the diagnosis is correct. Many doctors don’t have a clear grasp of drug interactions, which can be particularly problematic if a patient is simultaneously undergoing substance abuse treatment.
§ Cognitive therapy: Cronkite had almost been offended that this could work because it seems like someone telling the patient to will themselves out of it, which she had not ever been successful at doing, until she started medication. The lesson is that the treatment will not be the same from one person to the next, but it’s important to believe that there is something that can work.
15) Chapter 15: Beauty and the Beast
§ Are artists more prone to affective disorders? Does it improve their art?
§ Answer: Artists with bipolar disorder can have great productivity as they enter into their manic phases, and this can give them a creative advantage, because their every thought is sped up.
§ Answer: No, artists are only more susceptible to depression because they feel things more deeply, and sense things more acutely as a matter of course in their work.
§ Answer: Artists are constantly exposing themselves to criticism, which may act as a precipitating event, which would make them more likely to suffer.
§ I didn’t find this chapter particularly enlightening—I think this debate can be very interesting. Artists are by definition atypical. People with mental illness are by definition atypical. How much is this coincidence, and do we as society have something to gain (art, beauty) by an artist’s disease remaining untreated?
16) Chapter 16: Existential Blues
§ How do psychology and spirituality overlap? Some might interpret depression as a distance from god. The author’s experience with religion was helpful to her personally, but ultimately she knew it was a separate issue from her depression, and it remained dangerous to go off her medication.
17) Chapter 17: The Black Dog at Home: Support of Family and Friends
§ This chapter was interesting—it was one of the chapters where there was some disagreement within the testimonies. Sufferers of depression and medical professionals talked about what it was best to do if you suspect or know someone is depressed. Some felt it was best to act as if everything was normal. Some felt it was important to recognize that they are suffering from a disease, and to get them help accordingly.
§ There wasn’t as much discussion as I would have thought about protecting yourself from a depressed family member. It had been mentioned in other places in the book. Obviously, in cases of manic patients, physical protection is necessary. But the potentially “contagious” effects of depression are real, with the learned helplessness of dealing with and caring for someone who just won’t get better.
18) Chapter 18: It Tolls for Thee
§ Depression and marriage. A more specific discussion than the previous chapter. Spouses must be patient, but if they are willing to understand the disease, they can be important in helping wit the diagnosis. They may notice early warning signs before a sufferer does.
§ Mostly this chapter seemed to be a way for the contributors to thank their husbands and wives for putting up with a lot and helping them through.
19) Chapter 19: Families in the Dark
§ A chapter introducing the importance of recognizing that depression can run in families, and why talking about the disease can help make diagnosis, and therefore treatment, easier. It’s a bit of a lead-in to the following two chapters.
20) Chapter 20: Children of Depressed Parents
§ Of all the feelings of helplessness that family members can undergo (see previous chapter), it’s the most crucial time for children. If they don’t understand what’s going on (if the parents doesn’t know, or if the parent is too ashamed to explain), they can easily blame themselves for the irrational moods. Several accounts give what they think is the best way to approach the subject with kids. Several accounts show kids who are still afraid of the disease, and who don’t want to talk about it (Cronkite points out it’s important to explain that it’s a treatable disease, something she feels she may have forgotten to stress to her kids).
§ Cronkite’s son: “One thing [that has changed since finding out about the disease]: I’ve known what’s going on, which has made it a whole lot easier on me. Like if you’re on the fourth floor of a building and there’s an explosion, you have no idea what’s happening, but if you heard on the radio that there’s a bomb in that building or a technical explosion, or something, you’d be less scared because you’d know what was going on.”
21) Chapter 21: Children with Depression
§ People have relatively recently begun diagnosing and really accepting that children can be depressed. It is hard to sort out a depression in a kid, because so much diagnosis is based on criteria like “less interest than normal,” when a kid hasn’t been around long enough to have established a normal baseline.
22) Chapter 22: Old Dogs, New Tricks
§ Deals with depression in older people. Again a more difficult diagnosis than with the mainstream population, for one thing because it’s hard to parse out from dementia. They have a few overlapping symptoms, but more difficult is they often occur at the same time (similar to substance abuse—it’s hard to figure out cause, effect, and treat both effectively).
§ Discussion about whether sadness is a normal part of the aging process. There is, after all, loss—loss of youth, and eventually loss of most friends. Again, the distinction has to be made about when it’s time to cut them off, define it as depression, and get them treatment.
§ The longest essay is from Jennie Forehand, who had one other long entry in the book. Her experience with her mother, who was kicked out of assisted living places and suspected of psychotic disorders before she was diagnosed with depression, was fascinating.
23) Chapter 23: Advice to the Players
§ This short chapter is mostly of very short urgings by many of the contributors to get help for the disease if you have it. The advice ranges from “make sure to take care of yourself” to “see a psychiatrist as quickly as you can.” One doctor stresses the importance of both—he believes in alternative therapies, yoga and meditation for instance, but thinks these are largely just a palliative, while medical treatment can offer a real cure.
§ This is an interesting distinction (palliative vs. cure): if depression is just overwhelming sadness, isn’t something that takes one away from the sadness a cure? No, the argument is again, there is something more basic to depression than just the outside emotions, and with a medical origin, it needs a medical cure (see next chapter).
24) Chapter 24: Healing
§ This chapter stresses that the “cure” makes the recovery sound quick, when in reality it’s a long process and involves a lot of work from the patient. Medication may be necessary, but it doesn’t mean it will work like a switch—it will just make it possible for the patient’s willpower to have some effect.
25) Chapter 25: Ad Astra per Aspera
§ “To the stars through difficulty” (uplifting conclusion)
III. Other themes of the book
1) Images of depression
§ Black dog (Churchill)
§ “mist seeping slowly” (p48); hangover/residue (p49); “dark cloudy gauze” (p118); smoky room (p144); “When I would try to explain to people my experience last time I sobered up, I would tell them about a famous painting traditionally called Nightwatch in Amsterdam. It was painted by Rembrandt. It’s a scene of a bunch of seventeenth-century gentleman on the wall of a fortress keeping watch during some battle. For hundreds of years, it has been assumed that it was a night [scene], because it was so dark, until they cleaned it about ten years ago. To everyone’s amazement, it’s actually a day portrait. That’s what it’s like when alcoholics stop drinking. Everything is still there, the way is still there, the kids are still there, all the same people are still there, it’s just a lot lighter than you thought it was.” (Mary Jones, p93)
§ The comparison to diabetes and other diseases.
§ Moral weakness (p78) (this reference made more in relation to the stigma, not any contributor’s actual view)
§ Disconnect from the rewards system (p91) (one of the more clinical assessments, but very a very interesting way to view it)
§ On sadness vs. depression: like a hangnail versus a shotgun wound (p111)
§ The book of Job as a parable about suffering from depression.
2) Arbitrary distinctions that must be made, or things that exist on a continuum
§ Biological vs. psychological (“the brain is the organ of the mind” p31-2)
§ Beck Inventory—one of the most common ways to measure depression. A 21-question quiz
§ Feeling vs. thinking (p49)
§ Schizophrenia vs. bipolar (p57)
§ Alcoholism <-> depression (p88)
§ A call for help vs. a “genuine” suicide attempt
§ Mind/body/spirit
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