Of Ants, Grasshoppers, NGOs & Big Business

Following is one of those forwarded emails entitled "Enjoy the Truth" spreading around Rich's office. It's a retelling of Aesop's fable "The Ant and the Grasshopper." I found it fascinating. Rich said, "Not very funny, but a highly interesting glimpse into the Indian mind. Shocking, really..." Another great thing about being a foreigner: something as pedestrian as forwarded email becomes cultural artifact. . .


From: [An Indian rising-middle-class engineer]
Sent: Thursday, January 18, 2007 6:41 PM
To: [The Indian engineers at the office & Rich]
Subject: FW: Enjoy the truth

Jokes!!

OLD VERSION...

The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant's a fool and laughs & dances & plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The grasshopper has no food or shelter so he dies out in the cold.

MODERN VERSION
The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant's a fool and laughs & dances & plays the summer away. Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving.

NDTV, BBC, CNN show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. The World is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can this be that this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?

ArundhatiRo y stages a demonstration in front of the ant's house. Medha Patkar goes on a fast along with other grasshoppers demanding that grasshoppers be relocated to warmer climates during winter. Amnesty International and Koffi Annan criticize the Indian Government for not upholding the fundamental rights of the grasshopper. The Internet is flooded with online petitions seeking support to the grasshopper (many promising Heaven and Everlasting Peace for prompt support as against the wrath of God for non-compliance). Opposition MP's stage a walkout.Left parties call for "Bharat Bandh" in West Bengal and Kerala demanding a Judicial Enquiry. CPM in Kerala immediately passes a law preventing Ants from working hard in the heat so as to bring about equality of poverty among ants and grasshoppers.

Lalu Prasad allocates one free coach to Grasshoppers on all Indian Railway Trains, aptly named as the 'Grasshopper Rath'.

Finally, the Judicial Committee drafts the Prevention of Terrorism against Grasshoppers Act [POTAGA]", with effect from the beginning of the winter.

Arjun Singh makes Special Reservation for Grass Hopper in educational Institutions & in Govt Services.

The ant is fined for failing to comply with POTAGA and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the Government and handed over to the grasshopper in a ceremony covered by NDTV.

Arundhati Ro y calls it "a triumph of justice". Lalu calls it 'Socialistic Justice'. CPM calls it the 'revolutionary resurgence of the downtrodden' Koffi Annan invites the grasshopper to address the UN General Assembly.

Many years later...The ant has since migrated to the US and set up a multi billion dollar company in silicon valley. 100s of grasshoppers still die of starvation despite reservation somewhere in India ...

As a result of losing lots of hard working ants and feeding the grasshoppers, India is still a developing country......

Merinda's Two Cents:
Interesting, eh? So this is clearly a revision of a similar email that bombarded American inboxes during various recent presidential elections. Here's one American revision of the ant & grasshopper fable. Fascinating how two different cultures can take an idea and spin it so differently. This Indian version seems to blame the world's well-meaning aid to and capitalistic exploitation of India as the reason the grasshopper is still starving. In America, it's simply the Democrats who are to blame.

Even more fascinating is that in India the grasshopper is the loser, while in many American interpretations (in Disney's old flick the grasshopper ends up playing his fiddle for the ants in their tunnels and they all live happily ever after) the grasshopper is the winner because he is the artist, the party animal, the one who truly enjoys life. In India where starvation is a stark reality, not just a romantic idea (i.e. "a starving student or artist"), the ant is clearly the winner simply because he's alive, enjoying life or not. And with so many people starving here in India, the only way some can reconcile the injustice is to conclude that the grasshoppers must deserve it. If only those NGOs would stop feeding them . . . !!

I guess in the end it's not all that different from the Democrat vs. Republican rhetoric. Just looks shocking from an outsider's perspective, especially an American who used to believe the world is dying to have a piece of the "American Dream" and it's our job to share it. Not so sure about that anymore when I read about poor remote villages in India horribly polluted because they don't have electricity in their huts so they are using diesel generators to charge up their battery-powered TVs to get a slice of such delectable American fare as Friends and Desperate Housewives. Okay, I don't know if that's what they're really watching, but American TV is definitely here in India.

This week there've been protests in India because of some racist comments to an Indian actress on a British reality show. Sometimes I wonder if this global culture thing is really a good idea . . . Maybe we were all just meant to stay home with our mothers minding our own business.

Poisonwood Bible & Servants

I just finished The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. Beautifully written and gives a good view of expatriate life in general, especially from the child's perspective, something Kingsolver should know about because she was a "third culture kid" herself in Africa. Good writing aside though, for me at this stage in life it just hit too close to home and pegged my life wrong (I hope). It’s all about a Southern Baptist minister and his family who go to the Congo to convert the heathens and how they don’t have a clue about how to survive and how to convert people, if they need to convert them at all. Tragedy hits their family and they get all tangled up in the imperialistic (money-grubbing) "help" from the United Nations after the Congo declared independence from Belgium. In the end I had this horrible taste in my mouth about being an expatriate and working to help the Church grow here. Her critique of Americans who presume the whole world wants to be just like them is scathing, to say the least.

I guess it was good for me to read because it reminded me that I have to be really careful not to pass hasty judgments on people and culture here since so much of it is much more complex that it appears on first glance. Rich said the other day that the longer he lives in India the less he feels like he understands. So true.
So we passed our one year anniversary living in India AWAY from India! We felt like such wimps. But we went to New Zealand to visit my parents for Christmas. It was heavenly. Almost an exact foil to Delhi. Clean air, quiet, long stretches of roads without a soul in sight, etc. So wonderful to be with my parents and have a break. It’s good to be back though and face the music, which is good music most of the time.

It’s really really cold right now. Such a nice break from the blazing heat that’s coming soon. I love to cozy up in my fleece pajamas and drink hot cocoa in bed with piles of blankets on me. Someday I plan to live in a climate with four seasons again! Rich is headed to the US tomorrow for a big meeting with his boss and he needs to tell him if he wants to stay here longer or not. I’m back and forth on the matter and almost wish we didn’t have a choice and they just made us stay so we could buck up and just do it. Anyway, hoping to get some inspiration on the matter quickly.

I just sent an email to a friend who is moving here and trying to work out the logistics of who to hire for her "staff". When you figure it, we employ 5 full-time people and 2 part-time. We have our own health insurance plan for them, terms of employment, etc.. Figuring that for every person you give a job to in India, you are feeding 5, that's around 30 people we're taking care of. Some days it seems that most of them are at our house, although really there's only about 9 or 10 who actually are here at the house at any given time (that's not counting us).

So anyway, when I reread the email it seemed worthy of posting because our lives are so bizarre . . .

Our car costs us Rs. 45000 for the month. Driver comes with the car. We provide the driver quarters because we have them, but the owner has a sort of bunkhouse in Gurgaon for his drivers if we didn’t. I think he gets paid Rs. 5000 of that lease amount, but I’m on the lookout for a fantastic one to replace him and I’m willing to pay for it. Maintenance is cheap, diesel isn’t. If we leave the Delhi/Gurgaon/Noida area he charges us Rs. 10 per kilometer (22 cents). The car is a Toyota Innova, 8 seater (though definitely smaller than the equivalent USA Toyota minivan).

Mali (gardener): Rs. 800 to come every day for an hour to water, weed, sweep the area in front of the house.

Sweeper: Rs. 550 to sweep the driveway and wash it with water every other day. On the off days she cleans the bathroom the driver and guards use. I added the bathroom to her duties a few months ago with a pay raise when I realized everyone considers it beneath them to do this job and it seemed worth it because the users of it handle my children!

Guards: The company pays for their salary (an exorbitant amount I can’t recall at the moment, of which the guards only see a small fraction) but we give them Rs. 400 per month for tea! I know it sounds ludicrous that we pay this, but there’s a long history behind it. They were perpetually coming and asking for more tea, more sugar, etc. and then getting into fights because so-and-so was drinking more than his fair share. So I got fed up with it and this money is a sort of bribe, I guess, to leave me alone already about the tea! We also pay Rs. 150 per month for their newspapers. Tomorrow I’m about to go out and buy them a new heater because the old one isn’t enough for them. Pampered, I’d say.

This photo is the guard, driver, and a bicycle rickshaw driver we hired for the day all watching the sweeper work. They often seem bent on highlighting the fact that her job is beneath theirs. In case you wondered why we need so much staff, here's a case in point. India's all about division of labor. Rich always says the sweeper and the mali are the happiest people he knows, so I guess happiness is independent of caste anyway.

Cook/Ayah: Rs. 5500. She also gets quarters. She is my highest paid employee yet. She was making a lot more at her old job though, and I think she’s worth it most days because her English is impeccable, she is honest, she’s pleasant, and she doesn’t pick fights with the other staff. She’s also a pretty good cook and adores our children without pampering them too much. All of this I didn’t really know about her when I hired her. Best to start low and give merit increases, I would say.

Housekeeper: Rs. 3500. She works part-time and this is her first job (she’s Margaret’s daughter, so shares the quarters). I plan in the next few months to try to get her to REALLY clean the house well and if she succeeds I’ll give her a big raise. She cleans, folds clothes and irons. She helps with the kids here and there as well.

Here's Margaret, Poojah and her whole family of five who live on our little "compound" with us.

As a general rule, I’d say it’s best to hire staff that have enough experience that you don’t have to train them too much and enough English that you can communicate, but be wary of those who have years of experience with expats because they are often spoiled and sneaky. You don’t always get what you pay for. Also, English skills are a big premium, so if you are game for using your Hindi, you can save a bunch by going for those that don’t speak well. My friend Amy has done this and pays her maid Rs. 3000 with no quarters. Rich is reading over my shoulder and says he wouldn’t recommend this.

Oh the things you learn in life that seem so important at the time, but will be worthless when you return to your own reality!

Congratulations!

If you are reading this, you likely got our Christmas card in the mail. We're so glad we found you and didn't lose track of you despite our perpetual lack of communication.

Since you've gotten this far, here's some recent photos of us to reward you for your efforts . . .

Rich almost always loves living in India, so much so that he bought a fancy sahib suit to prove it. He doesn't usually act this commanding, but I will say that he sometimes gets quite the ego trip out of being the sahib everyone waits on!
And here is Merinda, glad yet again that she married this fabulous man who never ceases to amaze her with his zest for life and tolerance of her in all her femininity.
And Isaac, big brother extraordinaire. He is such a good friend to Russell and Graham, always willing to help and boss them around when needed!
Russell, who tells me I am his best friend "this much" (with arms stretched out wide), is truly a great friend to all. He is more compassionate than most adults I know (including myself) and has a personality that has blossomed and surprised us in the past few months.
Here is our little Graham, almost always happy, ever adapting to new people and places, mostly tolerant of the cheek-pinching from locals, and stubborn and spoiled to no end. He's learning to walk, but prefers to be carried for now.
Merry Christmas to all! Thanks for being interested enough in our lives to check out our blog. Feel free to browse around and see some of the adventures and learning experiences we have had this year. If you get a chance, drop us a line at merindarich@hotmail.com.

In the words of Tiny Tim, "God bless us, everyone!" Well said, Tim.

Dengue Doom Done

Two months ago I caught the dreaded dengue fever. Here is the story. . .

The city of Delhi had been all abuzz about how many cases of dengue there were in the city, how many people were dying, etc. Rich's work party was cancelled to help us all avoid getting it. I was getting SMS messages on my mobile phone from Airtel with tips on how to avoid dengue. You get the idea.

So, when I came down with a fever on 19 October, the day after my Seven Cities presentation, I was a bit worried. Then when my eyes started burning and the fever wouldn't go away I started to feel this impending doom. Did I have the dreaded dengue? How could I be so stupid? I was always dousing the kids with mosquito repellant, but often left myself out of the fun (dengue spreads only through mosquitos).

Then, as I deal with many dilemmas, I started reading about it . . . on the Internet. Luckily, unlike what usually happens when you read up on diseases on the Internet, it didn't sound all that bad. Most sources said you can treat the thing at home. So I waited in my bed for the fever to break. Margaret took care of the kids. Diwali (the Festival of Lights) came and went and I laid in bed most of the time listening to the fireworks, feeling really weird. I read lots of books, including Grandma Funk's book written by Aunt Nancy. Really good reading. I missed Isaac's big United Nations Day Program. Still had a fever.

Finally we went to a doctor Monday, 23 October, and he ordered a blood test and bed rest. By that time I had really achy muscles, and could barely walk up and down the stairs. Felt like I'd run a race, even though I'd been in bed for days. I remember really well we had to take a taxi to get to the doctor and there were several mosquitos flying around in it. Inescapable. Why did I end up being the unlucky one? The weird thing is that I don't even remember having a mosquito bite when I would have been infected.

Anyway, the doctor we had seen was the first one we could get in to at the Max Clinic and we didn't like him much, so we decided to go see our doctor Dr. Monica Mahajan Tuesday, 24 October and see what the blood test results were. She noted some rashes developing on my neck and trunk, and though the blood test still didn't show dengue she suggested I be admitted to the hospital to monitor my platelet count and keep me hydrated. Yuck! I really didn't want to go, but Rich thought it was a good idea, so we agreed. When we got home to get our stuff and say goodbye to the kids I started to get numb in my fingers and hands and started to think maybe this was a good idea after all.

I was in the hospital poked and prodded and bound to my bed for 5 days--the Max Super Specialty Hospital at Saket. The hospital was brand new and very nice. One day they took me downstairs for an ultrasound of my kidneys with a fancy new machine. Later I found out that this hospital is one of the popular ones for the medical tourism that has become so popular lately. People find that it's much cheaper and pretty much equal to travel to India for a big operation or something. Having stayed there as a resident of Delhi, I just don't think it's a good idea. I already feel rather adjusted to India and was stressed about the food and cleanliness. I can't imagine how I would be if I had just flown in for an operation. But whatever floats people's boats. But I digress . . .

The fever finally broke on the 4th day I was there. The IV I was attached to most of the time helped to keep the fever down and made up for the small amount I was eating, partly because of the illness and partly because I was worried about eating the food.

The day after I arrived I started getting the full-on rash and swelling--the very worst part. My hands and feet swelled up to about double their size (almost couldn't get my rings off) and my feet were huge and felt like I was walking on pins and needles if I got up. Most of my body was covered with this bright red, itchy rash. Yuck! So there I was laying in a really uncomfortable hospital bed, mostly sleeping fitfully for days. Rich luckily had a bunch of days off for Diwali, so he faithfully stayed with me during the days and went home to the kids at night.

There's something about having a fever for so long that starts to make you feel a bit crazy. I wondered if it would ever go away. At one point I remember talking to the fever, telling it that I didn't invite it and would it please leave! I knew that once my fever broke and my platelet counts stayed within the normal not-scary range (which they did) I could go home, which was all I wanted once I started feeling better. The kids weren't allowed to visit in the hospital, but Graham came once or twice a day to breastfeed and Isaac and Russell visited once. I missed them so much!

The fever did finally break on Friday, 27 October so Saturday I was released to go home. I did finally test positive for dengue on that morning's blood test. Hooray! I survived! The icky thing I have to worry about now, they say, is that if I get dengue again next year (it's a seasonal thing), it will likely be worse. I'll be better about my mosquito repellant next year, for sure.

The very best result from all of this dengue mess is that my parents got so worried about me that they showed up! They arrived here on 31 October and stayed two weeks. It was great to have them here while I regained my strength. Nothing beats having your Mom and Dad around when life gets really hard. They both played with the kids for hours, told me to go to bed and get my rest, and even washed dishes and cooked.
Dengue didn't kill me, it just stole about 3 weeks of my life from me. Some people ask why, after experiencing dengue, we aren't running back to the USA. I guess that might be the wise thing to do. But we knew when we signed up to live in India that it was risky. Life is anywhere. We also knew (and still know) that this is the right place for our family to be right now, for whatever reason. Dengue didn't kill me, so it must have made me a better (not bitter!) person.

Russell & Isaac Celebrities

So we were outside the Jama Masjid (a mosque in Old Delhi) and Isaac met some guys writing in a book. They asked him to write his name in their book. "You want me to write my name? I'm really good at that." He then proceeded to write his name and everyone in our family. Where else can you go in the world and be asked to write your autograph simply because you look different?
Speaking of looking different, here's Isaac and Russell pictured with their Primary group at church. The other white kid is Thomas, Isaac's best friend who was visiting that day. Sister Pritchett is the American woman on the right who helps run the Primary and ensures there's enough English in Primary so that Isaac and Russell can understand. It was an adjustment at first, but they are loving it now.

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Graham Growing Up

Here's Isaac (in his tie!) helping Graham ride the tricycle up and down the driveway.
The neighborhood isn't necessarily fit for roaming around, so we just ride up and down our long driveway. It's Graham's favorite past-time and is always asking everyone to take him out there with a grunt and pointing. It's amazing how quickly a child learns to get what he wants!Graham has gotten very good at growling. Very scary sometimes!

Graham with Grandpa Gurney at the Taj Mahal (for the third time in his 15 months of life!)