It is easy to see why India is so confused. Much of its current developmental state is the result of British imperial rule, a legacy that many try hard to resist. The same reasons why India has become so competitive- namely, the fluency of a large segment of its population in English (though much smaller than I had expected coming to India), an infrastructure built for trade, and the urbanization of its major cities- are the result of this oppression. Thus, India struggles to reconcile its desire to develop, modernize and compete with its commitment to the Ghandian principles of swadeshi (self-reliance) and a village-based social and political system. Even the names Bombay and Mumbai demonstrate this contradiction. In politics, those who use the name Bombay tend to advocate for a more open, modern and worldly India, while those who exclusively use the term Mumbai tend to be more nationalist, right-wing and India-centric.

What results is a system of governance and culture that is so full of complexities, corruption and confusion that for many years people believed that its unimpressive record of economic growth- coined the Hindu rate of growth- was simply inextricable from the Indian culture. Indira Ghandi herself said that nothing could be done about corruption, as it was natural and occurred everywhere. Despite the fact that (in my humble opinion) Indira Ghandi was a terrible ruler who led India down a path of economic and political failure it almost didn’t recover from, the idea that corruption is natural seems to have stuck. And this, as Indian breaks free of its bureaucratic stranglehold and enters a period of impressive economic growth, may be its fatal flaw.

This idea is seen in the way businesses are handled. At the most basic level, shops in Mumbai will do anything to try to get a sale- lie, cheat, guilt trip, pressure, intimidate. Even in more professional businesses, reputation does not matter. The concept of fairness does not matter. There is no such thing as building good relationships with your clients or partners or trying to develop a good reputation to ensure future business, and it doesn’t matter. Corruption is expected, so no business is lost. People are used to it.

Fun to look at- not so much to shop at!

On the other hand, the Indians I’ve met in non-transaction settings are some of the most warm, friendly and sociable people I’ve ever met. They are welcoming, giving, and will do almost anything to help someone they’ve only just become acquainted with. Despite its flaws, they are fiercely proud of their democracy. They are the best neighbors, coworkers and friends. I’ve even developed good relationships with some of the local businesses by Vyoma’s apartment by actually leaving tips (only 50 [american] cent tips, but trust me- it’s not a stereotype, Indians are extremely cheap. Anybody who worked at a restaurant in the States will also confirm this.) I am now treated like a queen whenever I eat at these places.

As I attempt to navigate the chaos that is India, these people are my guides. Aside from its beauty, and despite its contradictions, they are what make India great.

First of all, it’s hot. Hot, and more humid than I have ever experienced. There is only one moment in the day where I am not covered in sweat and stickiness, and that’s the five minutes I take in our blissful cold-water shower in the morning. The second I step outside of it, I’m covered in sweat and stick again. No air-conditioning of course, so breeze is my only source of comfort. At night, Vyoma and I share a bed in front of the window, sleeping only on the mattress with no sheets or blankets (except to cover the mattress), so as to keep ourselves cool. I woke up with a bad cold this morning (though thanks to several Indian remedies and medicine provided by Vyoma, I’m already starting to feel better) which added to the discomfort. I’ve given up on wearing makeup because it all melts off anyway, and my hair has settled into a very stylish ball of poof that attracts birds who may be searching for a place to nest.

All of this aside, I am really enjoying living here. I am learning how to handle the heat and humidity, and it bothers me less and less every day. The food is absolutely wonderful, and I am eating a very healthy vegetarian diet so I feel good about myself and my body. I’ve tried many new things from Paan to several different types of Chaat to kichiri (sp?) this morning for my cold. Vyoma and I have fun cooking together (she teaches me about Indian food while I teach her about Italian/American cooking) and we usually go out for dinner, where we can get a full Indian meal for less than two american dollars!

I’ve started my hindi lessons, and I’m pleased to say that I enjoy them a lot and can pick it up quickly. I was happy to learn that conversational hindi and urdu are virtually identical (though I’ve heard they differ greatly at higher, more formal ways of speaking) so that I don’t really have to choose between learning one or the other.

I’ve also learned that Indian people really can’t understand my name. They just can’t hear or process Bethany, so when they try to say it, it doesn’t even come close. Vyoma suggested I introduce myself as Bethany Devi, but when I did that most people just latched on to the Devi and called me that, which I had difficulty responding to since that is usually how we address my sister. So, I’ve started introducing myself as the Indianized version of my name, which is “Bay-tun-nee”, how Mom’s family calls me anyway.

Also, I’ve been inadvertently offending people. I was warned by an Indian friend before I left to stop saying thank you so much to people, as it makes them a little uncomfortable. However, since I grew up in the United States saying thank you is just a reflex (such as when someone hands you something, etc.) and gestures of appreciation are usually welcomed. Thus, I didn’t heed the warning very well- Vyoma and I went to get dessert at a coffee shop, and as she had been doing so much for me (putting me up, letting me eat her food, and so much more) I wanted to pay for her dessert. She told me not to, that it was okay, and I said no, I want to- just take it as a thank you for all the help you’ve been giving me! Vyoma turned bright red, got incredibly offended, and said, “Don’t ever say that to me!” Apparently she understood it as me trying to pay her for her help, which she gave out of kindness, and was thus incredibly offended by it. I, who viewed it as simply a gesture of appreciation and not that she expected reciprocation, was surprised at how upset she was. It reminded me of the differences in cultures- that in the United States, kind gestures usually have a value to them, and if we do something for someone we expect that they would do the same for us, or at least make some gesture to show that they appreciate what we did for them. In India, the act of kindness isn’t for the response, but for the act itself. Perhaps it is because they believe in the karma of actions, but it struck me as truly unselfish. Anyway, I learned my lesson.

So that is a pretty good assessment of my life so far! Most of my day is spent either studying hindi, reading about India, job-searching (if anybody has any leads in a security/trade/international relations field, please let me know!), exploring Mumbai, or eating. Soon, however, thanks to Dad’s contact at the embassy, I may be doing some volunteer work for an NGO that works with orphan girls as a sort of “big sister” project, so that should be a good experience as well!

Full of gelato and pizza, I flew out of Italy in a post-exam daze. I must have had that “I-know-what-I’m-doing” look on my face, or at least “I’m-harmless-and-won’t-bite,” because EVERYONE kept stopping to ask me directions to places in the airport, or questions about the flight, or whether they were at the right gate. After successfully making use of all of the languages I have in my arsenal, I got on the plane where I was promptly seated in the midst of a group of rowdy Indians.

Before I begin my discussion of the Indians, I must say that Emirates is the best airline I have ever flown on. Good food, good service, cushy seats, tons of little extras (like hot towels in the beginning to wash your hands, plus hot mint tea), personal tvs with a huge list of movies you can order on demand, and no extra fees for anything. I can certainly understand why it’s one of the top-rated airlines in the world, along with Singapore airlines (is it a coincidence that both are small, rich countries with authoritarian governments?). Tucked in and comfortable, I was prepared to snooze my way through a fantastic flight.

Well, this was not to be the case. The male Indians near me were insistent on getting drunk on Emirates’ free alcohol, while the women found me quite fascinating. During the course of the trip, at least eleven people stopped to ask me where I’m from, and were delighted when they found out that not only was I American, but I’m also half of Indian descent. They were all very friendly and I got several invitations to have dinner with various families. Whether this was out of purely kind intentions, or they were trying to set me up with their sons, it was nice nonetheless.

One particular conversation I had with a couple was a little strange. I had been talking to them for a while about various things, and after a lull in the conversation, the man says to me (pointing to his wife, very proudly), “She is my only wife! Not two wives!” Since they didn’t speak English very well, I thought it might have been an error in translation, so I just smiled and said…”Er…great!” Then the wife asks, “Do you have one mother? Or two?” I replied that I only had one mother, and they nodded approvingly. I thought this was a little strange, as I wasn’t aware that polygamy was a norm in India (and per various conversations with other people I had, it certainly isn’t). I contented myself with thinking that either this couple was very bizarre, or  just misinterpreted what they were trying to say.

Slowly but surely, we reached Dubai. The minute we landed was like a sensory explosion- perfumes, lights, flashy architecture, rich food, caviar, ice cream- all within steps into the airport. For the economy class, they had lounge chairs, private showers with toiletry bags, cushy waiting areas, and many amenities that I had never seen at any airport at the economy-level. As they had offered, I took a tour with a few other passengers (in a very nice bus) around the city, seeing various buildings, beaches and neighborhoods. I must say, I have never been anywhere like Dubai- it was luxury to the extreme, starting at the airport and continuing all the way to the downtown. The intention of the tour was to get people who only had connections in Dubai to want to come back, and let me tell you, if I had a ton of money to blow (and I would need it- I got a simple two scoops of ice cream with hot fudge for over ten bucks) then it certainly would have worked. It was luxury to the point of excess- so much so that it made me a little disgusted, as I get when I see what I perceive as huge waste and excess in the face of abject poverty. Who needs gold flakes on their ice cream or an indoor ski-resort when there are so many others starving?

Morality aside, Dubai was pretty awesome. It was the best connection I’ve ever had, especially when the emirates staff, concerned that I was a young female traveling unescorted, gave me access to the first-class lounge. On the flight to Mumbai, I was seated next to a Catholic Indian priest and nun, the latter with whom I had an interesting conversation about religion and spirituality.

Landing in Mumbai was the complete opposite of landing in Dubai. The airport was centered in the middle of the slums (like scenes straight out of Slumdog Millionaire- really. People picking through giant trashpiles, washing clothes in dirty rivers, tin-roof shanty towns), and was certainly nowhere near luxurious itself. I made my way to Vyoma’s apartment, which aside from having no air-conditioning in hot and humid 100 degree weather, is really quite lovely and makes me feel like I truly am experiencing India. Her neighborhood is pretty much every Indian cliche I can think of- women in saris, street-vendors hawking goods, slums mixed in with nicer apartments, dirt roads rife with animals, and traffic, traffic, traffic- and I love it. I haven’t had a chance to see the downtown of the city, but I will be sure to write about it when I do.

That’s it for now- Heading out for my first Indian dinner (won’t get to eat meat for a few months! , but in the spirit of the China vs. India policy debate, my next blog will be Mumbai vs. Beijing: a comparison. Stay tuned.

After the test, I’m off to India! It definitely will be an adventure…will keep you posted!

While I will offer a comprehensive review of the entire book when I am finished, I think that the book asks some interesting questions that deserve individual attention and analysis. The book is set up as a series of scenarios where the reader has to decide whether the act is morally justified, and then contains responses from people in various fields analyzing the situation. As the book suggests that the reader “reach his or her own conclusion- yea or nay- after each scenario, before reading the opinions of the commentators,” and “try to respond instinctively as you would if you were a senior policy maker or intelligence officer and had to approve or disprove the operation,” I’ve decided to blog my initial reactions before continuing reading, then see if my mind changes when I listen to the arguments. I would also like to hear your thoughts!

**Disclaimer** The few (of many) scenarios I choose to blog about are the property of the author, James Olson, and are entirely fictional. The analysis I present, however, is entirely my own, and does not represent the author’s point of view. For more background information and analysis, please read the book!

Scenario 1:

“Rolando Montemayor is a Cuban Direccion General de Inteligencia (DGI) officer under cover as a second secretary at the Cuban mission to the United Nations in New York. He previously served in the Cuban embassy in Madrid, Spain, where the CIA successfully ran a double agent operation against him. The double agent, a young Spanish Communist journalist, reported to his CIA case officer that he strongly suspected that Montemayor was homosexual.

When Montemayor moves to New York, the CIA passes its information on him to the FBI. The FBI and CIA agree to conduct a joint operation against Montemayor in New York in an effort to recruit him as a penetration of the DGI. The FBI surveillance of Montemayor indicates that he frequents gay bars in New York and engages in promiscuous homosexual sex. Using telephone taps and infrared photography, the FBI acquires incontrovertible evidence of Montemayor’s homosexual activities. Homosexuality is grounds for dismissal from the DGI, and Montemayor has carefully concealed his sexual orientation from his family, friends, and colleagues.

Would it be morally acceptable for the CIA and FBI to attempt to recruit Montemayor by blackmailing him on the basis of his homosexuality?” (46)

I have to say that in my initial reaction about a million thoughts ran through my head at once. The first was that in the United States both blackmail and discrimination based on sexual orientation are illegal, for good reason, and that because Montemayor did not pose an immediate threat or we had reason to believe he held vital information there really was no justification (if there ever is) for breaking the law. My second thought was that, as a spy, he knew exactly what he was getting into and how compromising (in his CHOSEN occupation) homosexual behavior was, and yet he chose to recklessly (and very conspicuously at that) engage in it anyway. I’m not saying that Cuban sexual discrimination is right, I’m just saying that if you are Cuban, and homosexual, why would you get involved in as dangerous, politically charged and secretive an occupation as espionage? I mean seriously. You had it comin’. Don’t hate the player, player, hate the game.

My third reaction, however, and the one I’m sticking with, was that the whole operation seemed pointless. You are effectively blackmailing a spy into becoming a double agent, which to me does not seem to make good intelligence, given the particular nature of double agents and the sensitivity and skill they require. Threatening to out someone does not a good agent make; they lack the loyalty or any sort of positive incentive to cooperate. Instead, use the information to your advantage- find your man a boyfriend in New York (or even a gay undercover agent; after all, they aren’t illegal in the United States, and Cuba wouldn’t see it coming!) and use HIS sexy wiles to elicit the needed incentives for double agency. Voila! A much more legal, and solid, operation.

Thoughts?

The first book up is World on Fire by Amy Chua.

World on Fire by Amy Chua

In World on Fire, Amy Chua contends that the two main forces of globalization aggressively pursued by Western countries, namely, market liberalization and democratization, contribute to and in some cases bring about serious ethnic conflict and global instability. This is due to the two policies’ simultaneous effect of increasing inequality and subsequently hatred for market-dominant ethnic minorities, while at the same time empowering the poor majority to react, often resulting in violence or severe oppression of the minority. Chua explains it thus, “The global spread of free market democracy has thus been a principal, aggravating cause of ethnic instability and violence through the non-Western world. In country after country outside the West laissez-faire markets have magnified the often astounding wealth and economic prominence of an ‘outsider’ minority, generating great reservoirs of ethnic envy and resentment among the impoverished ‘indigenous’ majority…democratization, by increasing the political voice and power of the ‘indigenous’ majority, has fostered the emergence of demagogues who opportunistically whip up mass hatred against the resented minority. As a result, in its raw, for-export form, the pursuit of free market democracy outside the West has repeatedly led not to widespread peace and prosperity, but to ethnic confiscation, authoritarian backlash, and mass killing.” (187-88) Chua proceeds to describe a series of examples in which a program of market liberalization in combination with democratization, usually backed by the West, has led to either severe ethnic conflict or political backlash. From the Philippines and Yugoslavia to Nazi Germany and even Anti-Americanism, Chua applies her framework to conflicts both past and present.

In a purely informational sense, Chua’s book is an enjoyable, interesting and pleasant read.  After an emotional and attention-grabbing introduction describing the death of a beloved Aunt, purportedly due to the consequences her thesis describes, Chua segues into the deeper context of her argument. Her first two sections come across as a sort of history lesson through a series of descriptions, references and loose figures. Like a good history textbook, Chua begins her chapters with a humorous or enlightening anecdote, followed by some background information, a brief description of the current setting, and finally a reiteration of the issues. The book continues this way both throughout the globe and throughout time, her arguments getting progressively less robust, increasingly more flexible and even extrapolating to places that have only one or two of the three characteristics her thesis describes (market dominant ethnic minorities, economic liberalization, and democratization). In this way, her third section seems like the tagline for an infomercial- “But wait, there’s more!”- as she attempts to reconcile her thesis with intra-city conflicts in the United States, anti-Americanism, Nazism, and the current crisis in the Middle East. What Chua doesn’t realize is that the further she extrapolates and attempts to convince readers of her argument’s global (and national, in the case of the United States) relevance, the further she alienates those who were sold to her argument in the first place.

This argument by itself seems simplistic and logical. It makes sense that in countries where the vast majority of the population live in dire poverty, and those that do hold most of the wealth are of a noticeably different skin color, culture or ethnicity, ethnic conflict would result. It also makes sense that the greater the inequality between these peoples the more conflict and hatred there would be, and if free markets do in fact exacerbate these inequalities it might even be a direct consequence. While it is much less obvious, it also makes sense that a form of government that empowers the angry majority without protecting the rights of the minority can and often does lead to civil conflict or oppressive majoritarian policies. The way Amy Chua frames her book it seems like she is simply trying to describe a phenomenon rather than prove a thesis, much as a history book might say what happened in a particular era and offer several plausible suggestions as to why this might have occurred. The anecdotal and descriptive style of writing leaves no room for alternative interpretations; each example is specifically framed for her argument, and there are no competing explanations or variables that she is including or comparing against. If the point of the book is that she is simply trying to prove that these effects of occur, the lack of scientific methodology severely undermines her claim. A better approach might be to gather a set of recent conflicts or transition governments and see how the variables of market-dominant minorities, the gini coefficient, perceived ethnocentrism, and democratization (including the various levels of democratization, considering that “democracy” is debatable in many of the examples she gives) affect the outcome. This would make her results much more scientifically robust and offer solid proof.

It seems, however, that instead of trying to prove her thesis she is merely trying to describe a phenomenon that is the most likely explanation for several events throughout the world. She transitions easily from example to example, reiterating her point of view and showing how each scenario fits in the context of her argument. Given that her information is accurate, her conclusions seem logical, and aside from a few very interesting history lessons it seems no major ideological breakthroughs are made. Perhaps it is simply the mark of a great writer, but Chua’s observations and conclusions seem obvious. She is not trying to prove a hypothesis as much as she is saying something is true and providing anecdotal examples as supporting evidence. The question then becomes what the point of her writing this is. If it is not to methodologically prove the relationship between free market democracy and ethnic conflict for sheer academic value, then what is it? To raise awareness? To explore possible solutions? To disprove prior theories?

That question is exactly what the reader has in mind after two hundred pages of this message being reinforced. In logical terms, it seems that she spends her entire book defending a premise without drawing a conclusion.  In fact, some of the logical conclusions that could be drawn she rather obviously avoids discussing, even in the most narrow of terms. It seems that in her avoidance of drawing judgments from her work, either because of her reluctance to make broad claims or timidity in saying anything controversial, she discredits or completely diminishes the value of her work. Even one of her most obvious answers, that the United States should stop promoting simultaneous intense market reform and immediate democratization in countries with market-dominant ethnic minorities, she refuses to say directly. Instead, she states, “First, the best economic hope for developing and post-socialist countries lies in some form of market-generated growth. Second, the best political hope for these countries lies in some form of democracy, with constitutional constraints, tailored to local realities. And third, avoiding ethnic oppression and bloodshed must be a constant priority. But if these goals are to be achieved- if global free market democracy is to be peaceably sustainable- then the problem of market-dominant minorities, however unsettling, must be confronted head-on.” (263-264) She then goes on to state feeble policy recommendations that may help remedy these problems, most on the part of the corrupt and often unstable governments that have very limited incentive to do so. By the end it almost feels as if she herself does not believe there is a good solution, and just spent the entire book discussing the problem.

In the end, Amy Chua’s book is a delightfully informative, logically sound (for the most part) and enlightening read. Like many other books, it does well in debunking the neoclassical myth that free market democracy in the purest sense is the answer to all the world’s problems and an invincible catchall policy. This, however, is not a new concept, and in the absence of any further conclusion or salient recommendation Chua’s book fails to be anything but mildly thought-provoking.

Which is a whole new subject of its own. As typical of a college Spring Break, privileged college students everywhere will be jetting off to exotic locales, white beaches and sandy shores in search of some warm-weather debauchery. Unfortunately for the rest of us, Spring Break means trying to find inexpensive means of our own debauchery (camping in Shenandoah?), as well as catching up on the mounds of homework and projects due right after Spring Break, as professors undoubtedly believe we have nothing better to do over break than study and work (here’s hoping we have internet in our cabin…). At least we don’t have classes!

Lastly, any amount of time you had reclaiming your boyfriends, husbands and sports enthusiasts from the end of football season is lost in March Madness, where pretty much any college student, particularly the males, are sucked up for days in basketball, and only surface for food or drink. This is particularly unfortunate for girlfriends or wives with birthdays or anniversaries at this time in March.

But as the saying goes…in like a lion, so I’m looking forward to the lamb!

So guess what everyone…I have made my first (maybe) debut in a Bollywood film! I was not, unfortunately, an official “extra”, but I tried really hard to get in the background of the shot and think I probably succeeded for at least a few seconds .

Here’s how it happened. Amy left Rome on Saturday, so we decided to get together for lunch last Wednesday to bid our final farewells. Amy got to Rome several hours before I finished classes, so we decided to meet at 1 on the Spanish Steps. While I was in class, Amy texted me to say that what looked like a bollywood film was being shot on the Spanish steps! Moreover, they were interviewing people to try to get them to be extras in the shot, but the people had to prove they were Italian (by speaking italian and showing some sort of identification). Regardless of the fact that I’m not actually Italian, I was pretty psyched, and a friend and I rushed over right after class. The second I saw the Indian actor, the Indian cast and crew, the wardrobe and the dance moves, I knew it had to be a bollywood movie (or at least a music video). Hannah, Amy and I squeezed our way into the background of the shot, and marveled at the extent of the scene. They even had an Indian gladiator!

After grabbing some gelato, sitting on the steps (which are beautiful now by the way, covered in flowers) and watching for a while, we decided to finally head over and get lunch. In honor of our exciting bollywood morning, we decided to go to this nice Indian/Pakistani restaurant (Himalaya’s Kashmir, I highly recommend it to anyone reading from Rome and getting a little tired of Italian food), pretty much the only ethnic food in Rome. They were closed when we got there (we got a little lost for a bit), but after seeing as mope around at the door let us in and said they could cook us something really quickly. They made us some amazing food right away, and the host sat down and talked to us for a little bit. He mentioned they were shooting a bollywood movie in Piazza di Spagna, and excited to find out a little more about it, we inquired further.

It turned out that this restaurant was the one who was catering to the cast and film crew, and they were all coming to the restaurant for dinner that night. They actually had to close the restaurant to feed the film party because the actor(s) (Raj Kapoor’s son-in-law?) were concerned about security. They said, however, if we wanted to stay for dinner they’d be happy to have us there, and we could meet everyone in the cast (and maybe see if we could finagle some jobs as extras)!

More to follow…

1. Italy is great for your self-esteem
2. Tourist season in Rome is terrible!

As to the first thing, there’s really no better place than Italy to get a self-esteem boost. At least a few times a day I will meet someone, or even just walk by, who will say, “What a beautiful girl!” or something of the like. It doesn’t even matter who, it could be man, woman, old, young, rich, poor, everyone likes to compliment you! It’s a very nice and friendly place, but living here too long might go to your head…

As to the second, tourist season started recently here, with Easter and now the advent of warm weather. At first it was nice, we had a couple of stress-free weeks with beautiful sunshine and warmth, but then came a steady influx of tourists, crowding the buses, filling up the restaurants, and creating insanely long lines at places you’re used to just walking into. Things that used to be free have also starting charging for entry, and other places have increased their prices (yes, even the gelato!). The most ridiculous thing of all, I think, is that they started shutting down the main lines of public transportation, including the tram I take almost every day, at 8:30 instead of the normal 12 on weekdays. Why, with MORE people around, would they make public transportation less accessible? My roommate thinks it might be because they want tourists to start using taxis more, but I think it’s quite ridiculous. I didn’t realize how well I was living by studying abroad in a non-tourist time of year!

Last weekend I went to Prague, which was really amazing. Prague’s a beautiful city, though it often seemed like it was fake- a toy town or a movie set- just because it was so pristine! I half expected music to start playing and people to start waltzing through the town square at the drop of a hat. The food was great, a nice break from Italian food, and the night-life was pretty amazing too. The city was alive. Needless to say, I’m pretty fluent in Czech now. (Just kidding! Though I did pick up a few words…) I’m happy to be back in Rome, I don’t think I could have eaten like that for much longer- tons of meat, beer, and fried foods, including fried cheese and fried cabbage/sausage/potato pancakes, and ice cream. Delicious, but heavy!

Right now I’m working on about 1,000 projects, papers and things to do, and I have class in about ten minutes, so I’d better go! Ciao!