Goodbye to HT!

Yes, I know the posting tapered off here at the end. I have been busy wrapping up a few stories and trying to figure out what to do next. There are a few more stories in the pipeline that may or may not be running in the next few weeks. If I remember, I will post them here when they appear.

My last day at HT was Friday, Sept. 5. To mark the occasion, the metro desk, generous to the very end, took three of the interns out to dinner at Karim’s in Old Delhi. It was a very nice, late evening, and the gesture made me wonder how I am going to adjust to a job at which I am not treated like royalty.

As for the immediate future, I am going to take advantage of the visa to see a few more cities (and one former French colony) in India. Tomorrow I am taking the overnight train to Calcutta, where I will stay for two nights. Then I will spend two nights in Madras and another two in Pondicherry before flying to Bombay for four nights. I am very much looking forward to the travel, as that was one of the most rewarding aspects of this summer.

Beyond that, I have no concrete plans. I have a few interviews lined up, including one in New York scheduled for the end of September. After that, I will fly on to Seattle and stay there for a few weeks, during which I will either settle on a job or make plans to return to India in January to freelance.

Story: Culture hurdle for media outsourcer

From Sunday's paper, a feature story on media outsourcing.

Long weekend in Little Lhasa

After writing a brief piece on Independence Day last Friday (see two posts down), I took the overnight bus with Michelle and Olga to visit Dharamsala for the weekend. We stayed in McLeod Ganj for two nights before heading back on the overnight train Monday night. While we did visit the seat of the Tibetan government-in-exile, which is probably what the area is best known for, I spent most of the weekend relaxing and riding a horse in the mountains and such. Olga had her master's project published on the front page of the Sunday New York Times, so we celebrated that as well.

Here are some photos.

A poorly planned trip to the best planned city in India

Two weekends ago (yes, I am falling behind in the posting), I made a weekend trip to Chandigarh, a three-hour train ride northwest of Delhi. I went alone and, unfortunately, did not have a room to stay in Saturday night -- there was a "pest situation" in the room I originally booked, and none of the other hotels had a vacancy. So I stayed up all night, in Chandigarh, which is not all that exciting a place when it comes to nightlife. I ended up staying in a Cafe Coffee Day all night watching drunk people eat pastries. It was like college! Except I was in a coffeehouse, and not drinking.

By the time I got to what I came to see -- the buildings and monuments planned and executed by Le Corbusier -- I was so exhausted and bleary-eyed that it was something akin to a religious experience. Enjoy the photos! Facebook album can be seen here.

Story: Manmohan Singh or Cyndi Lauper?

A brief write-up about my first Indian Independence Day. Nice to get a byline for something I would've attended anyway.

Story: Dalrymple, Rushdie & a book on AIDS

Here's a day story from Wednesday. Mukul Kesavan was supposed to show up but didn't. Dalrymple was really entertaining, though.

Story: Myanmarese mark 20th yr of "8888"

There is text-message speak in the headline of this story.

Very wow Jaipur

It took me two months, but I finally completed the Golden Triangle (Delhi-Agra-Jaipur) with a visit to Jaipur this past weekend. Michelle and I stayed at a hostel Saturday night, which meant that Sunday was far less rushed than on our trips to Agra and Amritsar.

Pictures can be seen on this Facebook album.

Highlights included:

Amber Fort, located 11 km north of Jaipur
An elephant ride
Hawa Mahal, the facade of which was built to allow royal ladies to people-watch undetected
Jantar Mantar, where, unlike at the one in Delhi, we hired a guide so as to understand what the instruments actually do
An Italian restaurant that served Kingfisher in teacups to get around obtaining a liquor license

The trip reminded me how much I enjoy getting out of Delhi, so I plan on doing more of that over the next few weeks. I think I am heading to Chandigarh Saturday.

Story: Tibetan hunger protest enters ninth day

Never go to report on a hunger strike without first having breakfast.

Story: Fledgling Delhi acting schools get mixed marks on placement

Although online it looks like it ends at the end of Page 1, there are two pages to this story, which was arguably the most fun to report out of the ones I've done so far.

Story: e-filing or e-failing?

Like that headline? Sadly, I can't take any credit for it -- they ran this story as a package with a bunch of boxes, photos, graphics and such, and I think the print layout team put it all together.

If I ever pay taxes in India, I will definitely hire an accountant, if only so I don't have to brave the line.

It's a safe country

I am sitting in the newsroom on Saturday evening, and news of six bomb blasts in Ahmedabad just appeared on television. As I turned around to watch news of the attacks -- which came just one day after seven blasts in Bangalore -- I apparently looked concerned enough to prompt one of the deputy metro editors to volunteer some reassuring words.

"Don't worry, it's a safe country," he said, laughing. "We always have at least six blasts."

Story: After the scare, flight delay

I went out yesterday to get some "color" for this story, a woeful travelers' tale. Most of what I got was cut for lack of space. Fortunately, I have this blog, on which I can post whatever occurs to me.

Here is my dispatch from deep inside Le Meridien Hotel, New Delhi:

Anne-Marie Guillet could have done without the last two days of her Indian vacation. The 55-year-old Frenchwoman was among the 241 passengers who on Thursday evacuated an Air Mauritius flight that caught fire when a bird flew into its wheel. She spent Friday shuttling between Le Meridien Hotel and the Delhi airport after a second flight was canceled due to mechanical trouble.

“I really do like India,” said Guillet, who spent two weeks touring Rajasthan and is now heading home to Reunion Island. “But I really want to go back to my country.”

After Thursday’s emergency evacuation, some passengers waited more than four hours for their luggage before buses escorted them to Le Meridien. They received phone calls at 1:30 a.m. Friday telling them to return to the airport for an early morning flight. They then spent two hours waiting on the plane before officials told them the flight had been canceled.

“We waited, we waited and we waited,” Guillet said Friday afternoon. “Now we don’t know if we can take another plane.”

Ratnesh Verma, one of 90 HDFC Standard Life Insurance employees headed to Mauritius for a holiday, spent Friday resting and nursing cuts sustained while sliding down the emergency escape chute during Thursday’s evacuation. He said his family has encouraged him not to board any more planes.

“They say, ‘If this type of thing keeps happening, then why risk your life?’” he said. “But it is a part of life. If you worry about this type of thing, you will be living in fear.”

So Verma joined the scores of bleary-eyed travelers who gathered in front of Le Meridien early Friday evening. With luggage in hand, they boarded the buses and left for a third trip to the airport.

On the way back to Delhi

On the Tuesday Continental flight from Newark to New Delhi, which clocked in at just over 13 hours from takeoff to touchdown, I sat in seat 23F. To my left, in 23E, sat a man in his late 30s or early 40s dressed in a blue-and-white striped button-down shirt and slacks. To his left, in 23D, sat his daughter, who was no more than 6.

About one hour after we took off, the man and I struck up a conversation. He and his daughter lived in Michigan, he said, where they had just bought a house valued at $500,000 for $300,000. "It is a great time to buy," he said, grinning widely. He went on to say that they were on their way to Andhra Pradesh, his home state, to attend the funeral of his father.

The man, who has lived in Michigan for the past six years, then asked how I was finding India. I gave him my stock response, which is that the summer had, for the most part, gone as expected, that the company accommodations had made for a fairly painless move and that I was looking forward to seeing more of the country -- particularly the south -- in the fall.

Then he decided to give me some tips to help me make the most of the rest of my stay.

"You know, one Muslim in India is worth 10 Hindus," he said. "They have the power. But they think... they think like animals. They do not act right. You have to watch out. They will try to take advantage of you."

I looked at him but didn't say anything. "It's like the blacks in the U.S.," he said, nudging me with his elbow as though we were in on a shared secret. "You know better than I do that you have to be careful around them."

I smiled at him briefly and then began rooting around in my backpack for my headphones.

"I am sorry to disturb you," he said 30 seconds later. "But I have to tell you: Don't go into Pakistan. They are like animals up there in Pakistan." I told him I had no plans to go into Pakistan. Then I put the headphones in, swallowed two Excedrin PM tablets and went to sleep, thinking as I drifted off that it would be easier to learn something from such exchanges if I didn't find them so offensive.

Ajkal mai chutti me hu

In Hindi, according to my Living Language self-study book, the above phrase means "I am on vacation." And I am. Tonight I head to Seattle via Newark (the first leg of this journey will be a 16-hour nonstop flight, followed by a shorter cross-country one) for my oldest brother's wedding Saturday in Eastern Washington.

I will be back in Delhi on the evening of July 22, and I am hoping that the effects of the jetlag will have worn off sometime around Labor Day Weekend.

In the meantime, here is a link to my most recent Facebook album. It includes some assorted Delhi tourist sites (Red Fort, for instance) and other pictures of life in Soami Nagar.

USA A-OK

The Fourth of July — a holiday that for the past few years has barely registered with me — turned into a three-event extravaganza in New Delhi.

Event the first:

A woman on the metro desk who will be married this Friday in Shimla invited me to a reception the night of July 4. I was the only American to make it, which rarely happens, as the HT interns have tended to move in a pack to social functions. The event was very classy – outdoors, great catered food (including Lucknow kebabs, which I had never tried), an open bar and, at the end of the night, Indian songs played by some guy with an acoustic guitar. About one hour into his impromptu set, he stopped the music, pointed at me and said: “You. You feel left out.” Although I told him I was enjoying myself just fine, he insisted, in an effort to make the evening more America-friendly, on launching into Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” followed by Bryan Adams’ “Summer of ’69.” I thought it peculiar that everyone knew every word to the latter, but on Monday, when I mentioned this to another metro reporter, she said the song is played at every party.

Event the second:

The U.S. Embassy threw a party for ex-pats on Saturday night. Some points of note: drinks were served by marines; the dinner menu included hot dogs and hamburgers; partygoers were greeted by an Indian Uncle Sam who was, quite inexplicably, on stilts (see picture with Emily); and a DJ closed the evening with a dance party that featured both rap and country hits and, as a closer, Don McLean’s “American Pie.”

Event the third:

Emily, Michelle and I threw a Fourth of July-themed party at the guesthouse on Sunday. The girls made apple cobbler (it would’ve been pie, but we lack an oven) and sweet potatoes. I was in charge of champagne – both drinking it and encouraging others to do the same. The party turned into a viewing of the Wimbledon final between Federer and Nadal, which lasted until 2 a.m. Sadly, only the houseboy and I were in it for the long haul, and he stayed only because he sleeps in the common room with the television (meaning that I kept him up, which in retrospect I feel bad about).

The takeaways: 1. I love America, and also Spain (Rafa!). And India. 2. I am looking forward to an alcohol-free few days.

Story: U.S. papers, Indian copy editors

Writing about the troubles plaguing my chosen field is so much less depressing here.

UPDATE: This story appeared on Romenesko Monday.

Newsman: What will be outsourced next? Newspaper editors?
Eureka Reporter
"When newspapers lay off someone here and hire someone in India, they are breaking their trust with the American public in order to pinch pennies," writes Dave Stancliff. "As an old newspaper man, I find it difficult to see what’s happening to such an important part of our society because of lack of imagination in solving money problems." || Hindustan Times: It remains to be seen whether outsourcing will cause a dip in editorial quality.

Story: Two employees of fraud loan firm held

I've missed racketeering. This is the e-paper version, so just scroll over to page six.

Story: Can Delhi become a caffeinated capital?

My first HT business story. Also the first in a series I'm considering pitching titled "Things I like to consume."

And I helped Michelle Stockman with videos. She gave me producer credits:

Video 1
Video 2

Multimedia is somewhat new here, and sometimes the videos struggle to load. But there are YouTube versions. Second one here.

At the Golden Temple

Our visit to Amritsar last weekend was as smooth as our previous trip to Agra was needlessly complicated. Indian Railways, it turns out, is stunningly efficient -- the trains leave right on time, and the departure is followed by a steady sequence of tea and snacks. After the five-and-a-half hour train ride, we arrived at 1:30, giving us just enough time for a quick lunch of Punjabi food before visiting the Harmandir Sahib, or Golden Temple.

The difference between visiting the Taj Mahal and the Golden Temple is the difference between being part of the spectacle and being a mere spectator. At the Golden Temple, even Westerners with only a rudimentary knowledge of Sikhism (like myself) understand that they are visiting a shrine of immense spritual significance to the religion's followers. Were it not for the welcoming nature of the Sikhs present, I would've felt uncomfortable, like an intruder. At the Taj, on the other hand, tourism is largely the point -- most of the people there have made the trip so they can cross it off their list of must-see Indian landmarks.

Unfortunately, we did not have time to go to Wagah, on the Indo-Pak border, to see the flag-lowering ceremony. That will definitely be one of my stops when I take a week or two off in the fall to see more of the country.

Pictures from the trip can be seen here. No trip this coming weekend. I am going to take Sunday to explore more of Delhi.