Melinda and Sarah Are Not To Be Trusted

March 21

No one believes us. We say it is possible to get internet and they say no. We say it is possible to make a pizza that is half cheese half pepperoni and they tell us it is not possible. Apparently, what is not possible is thinking just a tiny bit outside of the box. Sigh.

We are slowly but surely making progress on getting an internet connection. As you know from the title of my last blog, Melinda and I are learning the “Indian system”. Therefore, we have brought candy or soda every time we’ve been to the BSNL office.  We’ve talked about our families, what we study, and where in India the employees have been on vacation. By our third trip, we realized we needed to bring every official document we possess plus at least 3 passport size photos. (If you’re ever planning to move overseas be sure to bring at least 5 bazillion passport photos. You will need several of them for everything you do.) We brought the original copy of our lease as proof of address, a letter from Jadavpur University stating that I am in fact a student there. (The internet subscription is in my name.) This letter eventually included my full name, (never leave out your middle name!) my passport number, and my visa number.  It was signed and stamped by the director of the Foreign Student Office and included a passport size photo which I pasted on and signed. I brought copies of my passport and visa as well as my actual passport and visa, two passport size photos, and finally, an application for a landline and a broadband connection.  The first problem we encountered was that I failed to tell the secretary to put my middle name in the letter from Jadavpur. There may just be a Sarah Blake and a Sarah Beth Blake wandering around who look identical and live at the same address. But I managed to convince one of the employees that we are in fact the same person.  The second problem was that we failed to include our address in the letter from Jadavpur.  Apparently, the official lease is not convincing proof of address. The ladies of Room 2, who had been helping us thus far, were ready to approve our application but their boss would not accept our letter without the address. We tried to talk some sense into him, but he’s retiring in 2 months and has no desire to do his job anymore.  So, we returned to the Foreign Student Office and asked them to retype the letter to include my middle name and our address. Finally, our application was approved and we were invited to tea in Room 2. As we were leaving BSNL we noticed a sign admonishing people to “Fight to eradicate corruption from our society”. Considering that BSNL has made it as difficult as possible to get internet, refused to do their jobs, and asked our friends for bribes, this sign’s presence in the office makes it the very definition of the word ironic. Incredibly, someone came out the next day with our phone and modem. Now, we are waiting to have our phone line and modem connected. Hopefully, this will be done by the end of the week. 

Today, I went to Vodaphone to put my minutes on my cell. There’s a kiosk where you enter your information and the amount of rupees you want to spend and then it charges your phone. I wanted to put 500 rupees ($11) on my cell. Halfway through the process a doorman comes over and asks what I want. (As a foreigner, I am incapable of doing anything by myself.) I told him. He asked how much I wanted to spend. I told him. He said, “Oh no madam, the machine does not support that.” Yes it does. “No it doesn’t.” I tried to insert my money in spite of him, but blocked the money slot, insisting it wouldn’t work. I said, “Every time I come here I spend the same amount and it always works.” He told me to wait 2 minutes and went to ask someone else if I was right. I was. Finally, I allowed to pay and I showed the doorman the text that proved my phone had been recharged. My goodness, sometimes I wish people had a little faith in me. On the bright side, after we get internet, our house will be completely set up. Yay! 

Also, I recently borrowed an exercise DVD from a friend. It is Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred. I love it. There’s really no place to exercise here except the super expensive workout space in our apartment building and I was starting to feel like all I did was eat and sit. It feels so good to be active again! However, I am super out of shape and I have no hand weights, so instead I use jars of peanut butter. I have to convince myself not to get out a spoon when I’m done. So far, so good though. I am not convinced that Jillian Michaels is “in the same boat” that I am, or that she and her physically perfect friends are really “feeling it”.  Oh well.

Update!

I got my package yesterday! The postman actually delivered it to my flat! It was glorious. Thank you everyone for the cards, birthday gifts, pounds of chocolate and other things. You are amazing and I love you. The postman seems to be very nice. He brought the package once at 11 am, but Melinda and I were "out of station". Imagine, women who leave their home during the day! So, he left a message with the guard in the lobby. When Melinda got there he said, "You're package is coming at 3 p.m. Please, be at home!" At 3 pm, the postman came again. I wasn't there, but Melinda was. When she signed for the package he said, "Melinda Merriman... You are not Sarah Blake." Melinda explained that I live there too, and the postman was like, "Well, sign 'for Sarah Blake'". I don't know if this is normal or we just got lucky. Maybe the post office recognized the address or tracking number and remembered us... It may be that they were just tried of seeing our shining faces in their office or hearing our lovely voices on their phone every single day. In any case, I hope the guy comes again next time. Melinda is expecting a package for her birthday soon...

Melinda and Sarah Learn the "Indian System"

I suppose I should write you and give an update on my flat. I am happy to report that it is mostly repaired, with the exception of the water heater in my bathroom, which I probably won’t need in a few weeks anyway. The bugs have been exterminated, and we have a gas stove, microwave, and toaster oven to cook with. We also have cable television and recently I got curtains that actually fit my windows. As an added bonus, I now wake up to a golden glow created by the sun shining through the yellow fabric. The tv is really loud, even if you have it on volume 1, but that’s ok! The traffic noise in my bedroom blocks the sound from the tv! Our latest adventures have been trying to get internet and a package.

First the internet:

We are trying to get a connection through BSNL, because the server that was previously tried turned out to be horrible. So Melinda, our friend Kayla, and I journeyed down to the office armed with our passports, passport photos, and our lease as proof of address. We presented all our documents, said what we needed, and then a confused looking employee said: “Are you an Indian citizen? Where is your passport or ID?” Um…  I have an American passport? Despite some obvious indicators that we are not, in fact, citizens of India, we were asked repeatedly for Indian passports or ID cards and then they informed us that we cannot get internet unless we are Indian citizens. I know this is not true.  I can think of at least 4 Americans who have internet through BSNL, Kayla, who was present with us at the time, is one of them. Sadly, they could not be persuaded to help us. So, a day or two later, we returned with our Indian friend Antu. When we jokingly asked him how to become Indian citizens, his completely deadpan response was “You have to get married.” So, there you have it. I’m officially on the hunt for an Indian husband so I can get things accomplished in this country. Another Indian in line turned around and said, “You just pay off a local politician. You can get passports, driver’s licenses, IDs, anything.” Even the combined efforts of Antu speaking Bangla and Melinda and I passing out candy in the office could not get us internet. Soon, (hopefully) we will return again with letters from our university stating that we are in fact students there and a notarized copy of our lease. And so, the saga continues…  In the meantime, we did discover wireless in the mall. J

The Post Office:

My wonderful family and friends sent me a package on Valentine’s Day. It is now March 4, so it should be here I think. On March 1, Melinda and I walked to the post office nearest us. It is called Tollygunge HPO. At the time, I didn’t know if my family had a tracking number. So, it was kind of a long shot, but what the heck. Upon arrival, we started asking friendly looking employees for assistance, and of course they asked for a tracking number which I didn’t have and wasn’t sure existed. Eventually we were sent to the office of the post master himself, where we were informed that the post office has no way of knowing if there is a package there for me, and furthermore if they do know, it is not their responsibility to inform me that the package has arrived. Just what exactly the responsibilities of the post office are remains to be seen. I texted my mom and sister and got a tracking number. One of them got online and discovered the package is presently somewhere in India. So, after waiting a day to recover from my first traumatic experience with the post office, I went back and presented my tracking number. I was then told my package was at the Foreign Post Office.  I hailed a taxi and proceeded across town. Not many people know where the Foreign Post Office is because not many Indians have to go there. Thus, the taxi dropped me off at the General Post Office which is nearby. After wandering for a while, I found an entrance to the GPO, and got a lady to write down some directions, which summarized were: Strand Rd opposite New Secretariat Building. At that point I had only three questions: What road am I on? Where is Strand Rd? How far down it is the New Secretariat Building? But the lady didn’t or couldn’t answer these questions, so off I went.  I probably wandered around for about half an hour asking different people for directions, before I heard, in English, “I think she’s lost.” I turned, looked around, and thought, why yes, I am lost. Help. I finally got slightly better directions from a friendly man, which I followed until I randomly stumbled across the tiny, hole in the wall, Foreign Post Office. It pretty much looks like a disorganized stock room with a few computers. There were no signs telling me what to do, and no one offered me any assistance, except a super enthusiastic, toothless, old man who really wanted me to sign in, which I did. I went up the stairs to the first floor, where I saw several people seated at desks behind walls, which were clearly marked NO ADMITTANCE. I tried waiting for someone to help me, but no one did. I find the most effective way to get help here is to blithely stroll into restricted areas. And so I did. And then people rushed to my aid. I was sent to the 2^nd floor where I found much the same situation, and responded exactly as I had before. Finally, I got to office of customer service, a tiny, unmarked room on the 3^rd floor. The man told me my package was at the Tollygunge post office. After, explaining that I had already been there that morning, he called Tollygunge. I was told that the package was on its way but hadn’t arrived yet. I went home called Tollygunge HPO, and they said it was at RMS Kolkata, which as it turns out is Kolkata Railway Mailing System. I’m hoping that the package is on its way to me. As of this afternoon, it still has not left the railway station. At least if I never get it it’s not from lack of trying.

And finally, the quotes of the week:

“Yes, I am the first white-skinned, blond-haired, blue-eyed, American passport holding, Indian citizen EVER!” – Kayla

“You must speak Bangla loudly at home!” – Bangla teacher, Mr. Kumar.

Melinda and Sarah Attempt to Live in their New Flat

February 12, 2011

Day 3 of crazy apartment situation. Still no internet. Things have improved since we got here on Thursday. Friday morning we went to visit our landlords. I cannot remember their names, but they seem to be a very nice couple. We told them about all the problems and they immediately started making phone calls. Apparently the building has its own plumber and electrician with whom we are rapidly becoming best friends. The electrician has been here 3 times today and it’s not even noon yet.  We did get foam for our beds. The plugs all work now so far and so does my toilet. Melinda’s handle still shoots water everywhere, but (hopefully) the plumber is in the process of repairing it. The exterminator is coming in about 2 hours.

Last night, I discovered that my shower head shoots water way off to the left, the water actually comes out of the side of the shower head instead of going down. And the water heater (aka geezer) doesn’t work. The landlords are going to buy both of them. The laundry machine is here but not hooked up yet. It’s a really good thing I had some extra clothes in the suitcase I left here when I went to language school, because everything else is dirty. I think we’ll be doing laundry for days when the machine gets set up.  I did find a broom yesterday. I have never been so excited about sweeping in my whole life. Now my feet don’t turn black when I walk around the apartment. Just a shade of light brown. And we got the rest of our luggage and plug adapters so I have a phone now. Yay!

P.S. You all should know that while writing this blog ‘I Will Survive’ by CAKE randomly started playing on I-tunes. It knows things…

Melinda and Sarah Shift to a New Flat

February 10

Tonight is my first night in my very first apartment. And it’s in India. Yup that’s right folks. Sometimes I’m amazed at how life turns out. Since this is my very first night in my very first apartment, which is located in India, I am remaining positive. I will not think about the fact that we badly need an exterminator to come and take care of the cockroaches crawling up our water pipes. Tonight, I will forget that there is an electrical plug which has popped off the wall in my bathroom leaving all the wires exposed. I will forget that the plug in the kitchen doesn’t work, we have no microwave, no oven, no stove, and no gas to cook with. I will not consider the fact that the floors and furniture are filthy, but we don’t have a broom, or that our counters and table tops are covered in unwashed dishes. I will ignore the fact that my toilet is broken, and when you flush Melinda’s toilet water shoots out of the handle. We have no internet and my phone is about to die, but our Indian plug adapter is locked in someone else’s apartment.  So, I have no way to contact my family or friends, but that’s not important. The mattress on my bed might be an inch thick but apparently foam to sleep on is not included in the apartment setup. Not to worry though, I’ve been told, and I quote, “After about 2 weeks your back will stop hurting.” None of these things will depress me, or make me wish I was still in my language city with my friends, comfortable bug free room, and functional plumbing and electricity. I am being positive. I am thinking about the fact that my apartment is in town, as opposed to the middle of nowhere where it used to be. I have a super cute colorful new bedspread, and my own room for the first time since October. Tomorrow, I will wake up and demand that we get an exterminator, plumber, and electrician in here ASAP. And I will start figuring out the internet situation. I will have access to the rest of my luggage, including plug adapters.  Melinda and I will do everything we can to get someone to buy foam for our beds. If all else fails, we’ll buy it ourselves. Forty-five dollars is worth a good night’s rest to me. I will think about the fact that I have the opportunity to make new friends, start new projects, and attend a church where English is spoken. I will thoroughly enjoy being able to stay up as late as I want and not having to go to bed when Melinda is tired. Tonight is my very first night, in my very first apartment, and I’m determined to like it.

Melinda and Sarah Get Roped into Babysitting

Just so you all know, my blog website keeps switching the language into Bangla. Today I read it and figured out how to sign in without having to reset anything. Success! It's the small things that count.

Last Thursday, an important meeting was held in my city and everyone had to be there. Volunteers had come in to provide childcare for the event. Wednesday night, the volunteers got sick. So, guess who got a knock on their door at 7 am Thursday morning? ... If you guessed 'Sarah and Melinda', congratulations! You are correct! Sadly, there is no prize. We agreed to come around 10 am, after language class. As a rule, I like kids. But there are a LOT of kids in this city and babysitting from 10 - 2 was not exactly how I had planned to spend my day. There were 6 boys between 5 and 9 years old and one 2 year old girl. (That's not all of the kids, most of the older ones were in school.) Maybe 5 minutes after her mother left, the 2 year old became very aware that she was being babysat. She immediately set out to find her mother. The only problem was that she was going to wrong way. The meeting was held at the American Club and on one side of the campus, a preschool was having its sports day. Seeing other parents, the little girl incorrectly assumed her mother was over there too. I tried to convince her otherwise, but babysitters are not to be trusted and she ran away from me. I actually had to chase her down and carry her screaming away from where she thought her mom was. I'm sure I had absolutely convinced her that she would never see her family again. I imagine everyone within 20 miles was convinced of that fact too. As the poor child was being carried to certain doom, she finally lost control and had an accident.... in my arms... all over me... within the first 5 minutes of my day. I love kids. Upon delivering her to safety, I asked if anyone had extra clothes. The mother, understandably concerned for her daughter, replied that yes, she did have another outfit for her. No, no, I meant for me. Thank God, one of the other ladies had sweat pants and a jacket.

Later, a frog was discovered, dug up, and then rescued by Melinda from the boys who kept smashing it with a plastic sand shovel, because they said "frogs pee poison". Who teaches these kids science? One little boy got hit by a ball in a very sensitive spot, and later that same boy was told by someone that his family had gone home and left him. This, of course, was not true. His dad and sister had left, but his mom was still there. I would have taken him to his mom immediately, but of course Melinda had gone to the restroom and there were still 5 other kids who couldn't be left unattended. The second Melinda came back she took the distraught little boy inside and showed him his mom.

We were told that this meeting would be over at 2. At that time, we started telling the kids, who were repeatedly asking, that their parents would be there any minute. At 2:45, I was ready to escort all of them into the meeting. The children were beginning to doubt us. 

On the bright side, I got to see my uncle and he brought everyone marshmallows. Now the question is, should we eat them immediately or save them to make rice krispies treats later? Decisions.. Decisions...

Holiday Highlights

Happy New Year! And welcome to Sarah’s official Holiday Highlight Blog! We shall begin with Thanksgiving: Melinda and I had class on Thursday, so unfortunately, we missed out on the official celebration. However, one of the cooks at the guest house made us chicken strips, mashed potatoes, crescent rolls, and amazing apple pie. Then our Language Coordinator invited us to her family’s house for a post-Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving. We had traditional foods. No turkey though. It’s not really available, but there was ham and more amazing apple pie. Melinda and I also helped decorate their Christmas tree. Plus we got leftovers, overs so that makes 3 Thanksgivings in one year. J

Christmas season kicked off with “caroling” at the local church. You might think this means that a group of people got together and sang songs like ‘Silent Night’ or ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’, possibly while walking through their community. You would be completely, totally, and utterly wrong. But don’t worry so was I. What actually happened was a massive Christmas rave, complete with heart pounding drums, a fog machine, and techno lights. The whole church was dancing, including the pastor and his wife. There was a men’s circle and a ladies’ circle, and the two never mixed. At one point, they made Melinda and I join them. I can’t say that I actually “danced” I’m not that coordinated, but the ladies had fun dragging me around the floor.

Then there was the Pre-Christmas party at the girls’ school. The girls played games, did a skit, had a birthday cake, and performed some traditional Bangla dances. They also did two traditional American dances: the Macarena performed to the song Cotton-Eyed Joe, and the Mexican Hat Dance. Epic.

On December 20, we went to a town on the border of India for another Christmas party. To get there we took a night bus. It left at 10:30 pm. and the idea was that we would sleep on the 8 hr. journey there. HA. We took an Air-conditioned bus, because that means better quality. Little did we know, they would leave the A/C on all night in spite of the fact that it was December. The windows were also left open. However, Melinda and I were graciously provided with one blanket for the two of us. It was freezing and I did not sleep at all. If I never do that again it will be too soon.  We got to town at 6 am, slept about four hours, and proceeded to the Christmas party. It was a huge meal, with some speakers. But, we did meet some of the ladies who will come to our classes later, so that was exciting. Afterward, we drove to India to meet some friends.

On Christmas Eve, we had dinner with our friends the Smith’s. Then Christmas Day, everyone went to George’s apartment. George is Melinda and I’s supervisor. He bought stockings and presents for everyone on his team, and the other guests as well. I got several movies, and a t shirt.  George also made a big meal, basically Thanksgiving all over again, this time including turkey. And we read the Christmas story.

On New Year’s Eve, we went back to Smith’s for pizza, dessert, and games. Their apartment complex was hosting a huge party. They hired some bands, a dance troop, and constructed a stage, and a dance floor in the courtyard. All afternoon and night, there was really loud music, and lots of colorful lights. The Smith’s two year old son thought it was a giant birthday party.  After the party got started, four of us decided to go down and try to join it. It was supposed to cost 650 rupees, but none of us wanted to pay $15 to get in. So, we decided to just walk in and see what happened. At first, we were stopped and told to stand by the gate. Then, after a few minutes, the guard told us to go enjoy ourselves. There are some perks to being the local oddities. We definitely danced to Bon Jovi’s ‘It’s My Life’ and ‘The Summer of 69. We left after a while, but then came back for the countdown. The second time, someone actually moved people out of the way so that we could have better access to the dance floor. I guess we were just that good. :P The first song we danced to in 2011 was ‘Jail House Rock’. Followed by ‘Footloose’, something Michael Jackson wrote, Justin Beiber, and ‘Low’ by Flo Rida, and songs from Bollywood. There were also fireworks.  Who would’ve thought that my first New Year’s Eve dance party would happen in India? Life is so weird.