中秋节快乐! Moon Over Madras: September 29, 2004 at 0025UPDATE: Any of you ever read the Peanuts comic strip by Charles Schulz? Before it turned completely unfunny back in the 1980s, I mean. There was this one series where Linus was all excited about an imminent total solar eclipse, and he made a viewer out of cardboard with punched holes so that he wouldn't have to directly look at the sun. The big day finally comes, and in the last strip we see Lucy walking outside in full rain gear and umbrella---it is really pelting down. She walks up to Linus, his hair matted down, cardboard eclipse viewer a soggy, collapsed mess, and asks him: "So how's the eclipse?" That's how I felt today. The monsoon has arrived---so much for sipping fine 白酒 and reciting my favorite obscure Tang couplets while admiring the full moon. We did have a great time with our Korean friends, though. Those guys are a trip. I really hope I have the chance to serve in Korea and learn the language at some point. Hey, it looks like we might catch a break, after all! Spicygirl informs me there is a break in the clouds, and the moon is simply magnificent. 五粮液 and 寒山, I'm on my way!
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/29/2004 01:25:00 AM| |

 
I hadn't realized my last three posts have been about food. I know alot of people read this blog because they are interested in joining the Foreign Service, so this time I'll provide a quick update on what I've been up to lately: Of course, there are always the visas. As a very busy non-immigrant visa (NIV) post, there is no escaping that the majority of my day involves interviewing 120+ visa applicants per day. Some of my colleagues at other posts may read this and think, "Pfft, we do lots of visas too; that's not so many." Well, there are visa interviews and then there are visa interviews. The bulk of most embassy/consulate visa trade concerns business and visitor visas (B1/B2). If only that were the case here---if all I had to worry about was interviewing Ma and Pa Hyderabad wanting to visit their kids in the US, my life would be a far easier one. But not only do we have tons of those, we also do a great number of temporary worker/dependent visas, called H1B/H4. That is because South India is the world's leading supplier of IT workers to the US. These are petition-based visas, filed by companies in the US with the Department of Homeland Security. Congress caps these with an annual numerical limit; this year I think it is around 65,000. I swear I feel I've already seen 20,000 of them in the past month. We are in the midst of the annual H1B/H4 crush right now, and I would guess they comprise 60% or more of our total case load. These are very document intensive, and are simply draining. Applicants hired by the big name companies like Microsoft, HP, Qualcomm, etc are a piece of cake. I thank my lucky stars when I get those. However, most are going to very small, often shady operations, usually start-ups by Indians already in the US. Oftentimes there are only a handful of employees. It becomes very hard to determine if the company is legitimate; if it really has a job waiting for the applicant, or if the applicant is academically qualified in the first place. If the applicant is coming back for a renewal (renewals are not subject to the annual quota), or wants to sponsor spouse and kids on an H4, the problem arises over whether the sponsor is actually earning an income that would support the family members. Getting to the bottom of these cases is exhausting, and frankly these are the bane of my existence. No other high-traffic visa posts have to deal with the sheer number of these tough, complicated cases as we do here, and I think it makes our productivity all the more impressive. I'm also training a newly-arrived officer. One good thing about our post is that we don't just throw our new officers to the wolves on the line--we have a fairly intensive 11-day in-house training program in which we introduce the officer to all the kinds of visa classifications we process here. It is only after a period of closely supervised interviews, lasting over a week, that the officer finally begins to interview solo. Of course, it still takes quite a while to become completely comfortable, and get up to speed as far as numbers. This creates a strain on the rest of us, because the case load is still high, and we have to make up the slack. Since I'm training the new guy, I am not able to do my normal case load, and this creates an extra burden on my colleagues. We've been short-handed for quite some time, and we are expecting several new arrivals over the next few months, so things will be hectic for a while. But once everyone is on board, things should improve dramatically. On top of all that, a colleague and I also planned a diplomatic social which took place at the Consul-General's home last night. We invited members of the diplomatic and local community, and our guest list topped 150. Only around 90 showed up. We arranged catering from a local five-star, provided a full wet bar and the entertainment featured a concert by the Madras String Quartet. The funny thing is, I was completely ignorant concerning the purpose of the event. I thought it was just one of those things the consulate puts on each fall, before the end of the fiscal year. But apparently, it was to welcome and introduce our post's new officers who arrived in the preceding year, of whom I am one, to the community. No wonder the CG's wife kept bringing over diplomats and introducing them to me. Oops! In other news, tomorrow is the Mid-Autumn Festival 中秋节. It's a big event in China and Taiwan (and East Asia generally), where families and friends get together, eat a bunch of great junk, and gaze at the moon. I don't know what it is, but the moon does seem at its fullest this time of year. If lovers are separated, they try to look at the moon in the hopes their beloved is also doing the same thing. Or, if an expat family member has come back for the holiday and is putting on airs, someone will put him/her in their place: "你以为美国的月亮比中国的圆吗?" A Korean couple we know has invited us to their home tomorrow night to celebrate the occasion. I think we will be the only non-Koreans there. Since they are Korean, at least this means there won't be any dreadful mooncakes. I hope.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/27/2004 11:10:00 PM| |

 
Another Spicygirl rendition: 食召*子面*Note: the first two characters should be combined into one: the 食 radical and the 召 phonetic. The reading is shào. This is quite possibly the best bowl of Chinese noodles I've ever had. The only thing I can even recall coming close is one that my long-suffering friend AhDoGa and I encountered once years ago in a Hunanese village. This is how I remember it, though AhDoGa may have his own version: it was early morning, and we stumbled into a tiny restaurant on our way to the train station to catch our ticket out of town. There were only 4-5 people in the place, all employees, and they were seated at a table, each slurping a huge bowl of what appeared to be the most tantalizing noodles I'd ever seen. We dropped our bags and a guy hurried over with a menu. It listed the usual disappointing Chinese breakfast fare: warm soy milk, fried dough sticks, cold pickled vegetables, etc. I have to say, on whole the Chinese have the most unappetizing breakfasts of any place I've ever been. AhDoGa and I looked at each other, and with the divine aroma of those incredible noodles wafting over, we told the guy, in Chinese, and in no uncertain terms: We want what you're having. He shrugged as though we were a couple of loons, but walked over to the kitchen and barked out our order. In no time at all we were in heaven. The broth base consisted of thinly sliced pork, finely chopped garlic, green onions, red chilis (the fresh kind, not dried) and ginger. They were so delicious we ordered another bowl each. I doubt we spent 10 RMB, though AhDoGa may have a better memory. I don't believe I've ever had a better breakfast, and I'd been pining for them ever since. That has all changed. These Sichuan-style noodles by Spicygirl are good enough to make that formative experience take a back seat. The soup base consists of her patented homemade chili oil, soy, sesame oil, green onions, garlic, and vegetable (or chicken) bouillon. In Sichuan, they also add minced pork, combined with other ingredients, stir-fried to a 渣, or crumby consistency. This is how the dish derives its name: shàozi mian. For my benefit, Spicygirl substitutes a mixture of wokked eggs, green peppers and tomatoes. The phrase 好吃得不得了 doesn't even begin to describe them. The noodles themselves are worthy of note. You may have seen Chinese make noodles---after plying and kneading the mixture of dough and water, the chef cuts swaths of noodles, scoops them up and hangs them to dry. For this dish, however, it is imperative that the noodles retain moisture. In Sichuan, people buy them fresh from the noodle stand and take them home to eat right away. This type of noodle is known in Sichuanese as 水叶子面. Now, obviously in India, a country where people consume lots of flour items, yet inexplicably never developed noodles, this is not an option---and local flour quality doesn't do the job when it comes to making them--so we've been using a packaged version manufactured in Taiwan, which is not bad at all:
Another item of note about the dish is that the character for shào I described above, does not exist in any Chinese dictionary. This puts it in the same company with Dan Washburn's 'biang biang mian' I discuss down below. But it seemed like such a logical and 'Chinese' character, that we were both amazed we couldn't find it in the dictionary. Unlike the 'biang' character, it is straightforward, no flourishing embellishments, has a rational number of strokes, and works exactly like a Chinese character is supposed to: the radical semantic 食 informs us it has something to do with food, while the phonetic component 召 offers a clue to pronounciation. Spicygirl even called home to make sure she hadn't made a mistake, but the Sichuanese do indeed use this character for this very common Chengdu snack. It must be a pure Sichuan dialect term. If any of you have some insight, please share. In the meantime, I'm suggesting to Spicygirl that she simply appropriate the name, and call them 邵子面®! UPDATE: I've gotten to the bottom of the mystery, sort of. It seems that the original character used for this dish was 臊; Spicygirl's mom later found it in the dictionary. But the thing is, no one uses it anymore. They use the character I introduce above. The pronounciation is the same, sào, because like in so many southern dialects, there is no retroflex 卷舌 in Sichuanese. So why the change? I've got a theory: 臊子 means 'minced or diced meat, usually as a dressing'. That fits in well with the description of the dish. But 臊 also has another reading, sāo. That word means 'smell of urine or of a fox; foul smell; stench'. My guess is that the association may have been hurting sales, and so one enterprising vendor came up with this alternative. The character stuck, and the rest is history. *Thanks John Pasden, for the 'Stupid Code Tricks'
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/26/2004 02:20:00 AM| |

 
ATTENTION: The Temple Guy, YRH, Venerable Miao Hsi 妙西法师 and Buddha---I didn't eat thisTonight we went to the best restaurant in Madras, imho: INSEOUL KOREAN RESTAURANT. It is located at No. 530 TTK Road in Alwarpet, Chennai. There's gonna be a big hotel here at some point, but for now at least, the eatery will suffice. I've noted this before, but I truly admire Koreans. They absolutely do not compromise when it comes to their food. Unlike every other ethnic cuisine that relocates to a foreign country, they do not dumb it down to suit the local palate---what you see is what you get. And what's more, they don't seem to care about the bottom line: in this place for instance, 95% of the customers are Korean expats, and a smattering of us 老外. No Indians, except for the service staff---and no, it's not because Tamils are largely vegheads (a myth). I'm still trying to work out why they don't try Korean food. Maybe it's too spicy. Another thing we heard back in the States is that South Indians love the fiery hot. Yeah, they are a tad hotter than Louisiana, but nowhere in the league of Koreans. Sichuanese food isn't really that hot, actually; it's the numbing (and quasi-illegal) Sichuan peppercorn 花椒 that fools everybody.
I've seen Soju 烧酒 in bottles, metal flasks, cans, clay teapots, and brown unmarked packages, but never paper cartons. Any soju aficionados familiar with this brand? I'm almost afraid to ask--I may have been drinking the Thunderbird of soju all night. Well, whatever, it set me back 200 rupees per carton (46 rupees=US$1), same as the Heineken you see above. Before you scoff, you should see what these guys charge for formaldehyde-laced Indian beer---and they gave me the shot glass as a parting gift! Thanks, Spicygirl.
Here's what I had---a tofu and egg soup in a nice spicy base. It was all-right I guess, but man, it sure looked a lot more substantial in the photo menu. It came with rice, and of course the obligatory assorted kimchi dishes, so I didn't starve, but I was expecting a lot more. The kimchi sides were off tonight as well---kind of sour, as it turned out, which indicates a lack of freshness, in my mind. This was the least satisfactory meal we've had here (Spicygirl fully concurs), but this place is still tops.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/20/2004 01:15:00 AM| |

 
Nothing goes better with Saturday night Premiership action than hot, steaming 饺子 jiaozi, or 'Chinese dumplings'. I got so 'wrapped up' (get it?) in the joy of eating that I forgot to take the picture until we were halfway done. These were all homemade by Spicygirl, from the wrappers to the 馅儿 xian(r) (filling). Most people nowadays buy dumpling skins at the grocery, or even ready-made dumplings in the freezer section. No chance of that here in India, though, so Spicygirl had to work from scratch. She does very well for a southerner, I must say, considering that dumplings are for the most part a northern dish. One problem: the dough here lacks the proper consistency, so Spicygirl complained the skin came out too thick. My response: 像你的脸皮一样厚,是不是? I'm going to have a beaut of a bruise on my arm from where she slugged me. To be fair, even the Chinese chef from Beijing who works at a restaurant in Madras has the same problem. And Spicygirl's 馅儿 is superior to his. The most common ingredient in the 馅儿 is pork, but Spicygirl, in consideration of my karmic dietary preferences, used egg, bell pepper and tomato, just like a wonderful dumpling place I used to frequent in Beijing. Where she has them all beat is her dipping sauce. This is her own special creation of fried chili oil, vinegar, garlic and soy. To wash it all down: tomato and egg drop soup. But all this still wasn't enough for Spicygirl---southerner that she is, no meal is complete without a bowl of rice. And some homemade pickled radishes. Exactly what is needed to bring a little bit of Shuangliu 双流 to far-off Madras.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/19/2004 12:10:00 AM| |

 
Still another week goes by(e) in Chennai. This one has been pretty brutal, though, because there's yet another 'malady de Madras' making its way around the consulate, and we are short on officers at the windows. But the crush of visa applicants takes little note nor concern of our physical infirmities---onwards they come. I adjudicated my first visa applicant on April 26, 2004. I don't even recall the result. Now I wish I had noted the particulars. I do remember it was an elderly gentleman, though. Including that first case, I have since done 10287. It was pretty intimidating in the beginning, but we quickly become battle-hardened, and before shipping out to post, we receive intensive training at State in learning how to apply the law. For a teaser of what our training is like, take a look at this article. Here's my pace up to this point: #Adjudications/Date Reached 500.........................5 May 1000.......................13 May 5000.......................25 Jun 10000......................14 Sep It's hard to believe I've been doing this for almost 5 months, much less over 10,000 cases. In my best week, I adjudicated 823 applicants. My record day is 216. Of course, that was before we went live with biometrics (see July 28). Having to take fingerprints means the old records are probably safe. But I am pretty sure I've set the new post-biometric standard, in our consulate at least, and twice this week: on Tuesday I cranked out 160 interviews, and today I managed 161. As far as I know, that is a record. I don't focus entirely on numbers, of course, but there is no denying that the primary purpose of the Chennai consulate is to facilitate legitimate travel to the US, hence, we are first and foremost a visa post. And being something of a stats geek, the numbers game helps me come away with something approaching a sense of accomplishment, especially considering I am not even consular coned. UPDATE: anyone have any idea why there is so much space between the second paragraph and the table? I got rid of the table because I couldn't get it to work in Blogger. And the Blogger Support didn't answer my email. To answer Jing's question: What is 'consular coned?', there are five career tracks (cones) in the Foreign Service: Management, Consular, Economic, Public Diplomacy and Political. A Foreign Service hopeful chooses one of these career tracks when taking the Foreign Service Written Exam. More information about the different cones here.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/17/2004 12:05:00 AM| |

 

Yesterday I went searching for this famous temple that attracts people who are seeking visas to the US. An Indian lady who works at the consulate told me about it, and said her own nephew went there to seek blessings before he came for his student visa interview! He got the visa, so I thought I had better check this place out. The temple is called Veetrirundha Perumal Kovil. I found it, but only after driving about one hour. It is not easy to locate, and we had to ask people for help twice. Unfortunately, we got there at 12:45pm, and I had forgotten that Hindu temples open for a few hours in the early morning and then close until late afternoon. I wasn't going to wait around until 5pm when it reopened, so we went home. I went back there today at 8:00am. The temple is devoted to Anjaneyar, also known as Hanuman, the Monkey God in the Hindu pantheon. He grants many requests of the faithful, not just student visas. It is such a distance from Chennai proper that only the most extraordinarily devoted must make the attempt to find this place. Or maybe there is a visa supplicant pilgrimage, and this is just one stop among many... I didn't take any photos inside, because the priests normally frown upon that kind of activity. I was half expecting to find graven images of all the visa officers placed beneath Anjaneyar. I figured mine would be stuck full of needles or worse. As a colleague of mine, who like me, has a reputation for being more demanding of applicants, put it: people go here to pray they don't get one of us for their interview! The temple is actually non-descript and simple in design. There are two main worship rooms and a few shrines scattered about. People make offerings and jot their names down on a piece of paper. These are then rolled up and hung as giant paper prayer necklaces around a portrait of Anjaneyar. The priests are friendly and even permitted me to receive blessings. They gave me holy water to drink and annointed my forehead with the crimson dot you see on so many Hindus. After that, they gave me a ball of rice mush served on a banana leaf. Then they explained the history of the temple. I could not understand much of what they said, but I did get that a temple has been on this site in one form or another for 2000 years. I didn't specifically ask them why the temple is known as a 'visa temple', as I thought it best to maintain a low profile. If ever in Chennai and want to visit, take Mount Poonamallee Road (aka NH4) all the way out of town. Like I wrote above, it takes as long as an hour to get there from city center. The road will fork; follow right towards Tiruvallur. You will know when you've reached the turn because there is a large motel facility directly opposite. This junction is also known as Motel Highway. After one kilometer you will arrive at a large Sivan temple on the right. At this point you had better ask for directions. The temple is tucked in a residential alley about half a kilometer from here. I understand there may be several other 'visa temples' in Chennai where people go to pray for divine intercession. I'll attempt to visit these as I find them, and will report back at a future time.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/12/2004 03:35:00 PM| |

 
寻根 It's been an incredibly long time since I posted anything to do with China or Chinese, so this post is all about getting back to my roots. Hopefully, this will convince John Pasden, Brainysmurf and Brendan to hold off on excommunicating me from the China Blog Mafia for just a little while longer. Dan Washburn is on an amazing, enviable journey through China right now. He's taking the kind of trip I used to do, my last one being in 1995, when I covered most of central China before following the Silk Road all the way to Kashgar. The original plan was to go from where the Great Wall emerges from the sea at Shanhaiguan (Hebei) to where it crumbles into the desert at Jiayuguan (Gansu), but my ambitions grew from there, and it evolved into a two-month long odyssey. I also found out at many spots along the way that I was literally days behind travel writer Robert Storey (of Lonely Planet fame), and it became a kind of game to see if I could catch him---I never did, though. It ranks as one of my greatest summers, and one of these days I plan to scan all scores of my photographs. I fell in love with China's West, especially Gansu. Dan is fortunate in that his tour is in the age of Internet and digital photography, so he is able to record it in real time. He's written a fascinating account, and has met people most Western journalists never do, so by all means give it a look. One of his photos particularly caught the eye of Stephen Frost, who emailed me the link because the picture showed a Chinese character he had never seen:
©2004 by Dan Washburn. Used with permission.The photo is of a noodle shop signboard in Shaanxi province. Dan wrote that the noodles are a local specialty called 'biang biang' mian (the two characters in the middle are read 'biang'). That character is non-existent in the standard Chinese lexicon. Stephen asked several of his Chinese colleagues in Hong Kong who were all stumped. They and Stephen suggested it was an artistic fabrication. My own feeling was that it might be a dialect term. I forwarded the picture to my wife, who was visiting her hometown Chengdu, and it turns out we are both right. Apparently, it is somewhat common for local people to create new characters for words in their dialect which do not exist in Mandarin. The Sichuan dialect has a similiar sound, 'biang', and people also created a character for it, though it is written slightly differently. Her father recalled a 顺口溜 (doggerel) from childhood that people used to help them remember the stroke order of the Sichuan version: 一点一横长, 二字下来口四方. 一边一个丝绕绕, 你也长我也长, 中间夹个马儿郎. 心字来打底, 月字来帮忙, 打个钩钩挂衣裳. So what does it all mean? Spicygirl and her father think the sound is onomatopoeic. The noodles are called 'biang biang' mian because when making the noodles, the chef strikes the dough, or slams it on the kneading board, making a loud 'biang' noise. It would be an interesting, worthwhile project for someone to compile these doggerels and characters across the range of dialects. Maybe I'll start it myself if I ever make it back to China. As mentioned, Spicygirl just returned this week from a month-long visit to her hometown, and she brought back a bunch of goodies. I thought I'd share some here: People don't seem to have enough time to cook anymore; everyone is always working so they can buy a bigger house or car, and pay for the little emperor/empress to take English, piano lessons, etc. The culinary arts are a foundation of Chinese culture, and an important source of self-affirmation, nowhere more so than Sichuan. Companies are filling the void with prepared sauces that people made themselves in the recent past. At left is 郫县豆瓣 Pixian douban. This is the spicy bean baste that is the staple of Sichuan cuisine. It is no exaggeration to say it is the soul of Sichuan food: 川菜之灵魂. The most famous comes from Pi County, located on the outskirts of Chengdu, and the best is the 鹃城 Juancheng brand. This is another baffling mystery. Juancheng can mean either "Cuckoo City" or "Azalea City". As far as I know, neither of these is a nickname for Chengdu. Does anyone have an idea of the origin? Second from left is the mix for a dish called Shaojigong . I've never had it, but it is a chicken dish where diced chicken cubes soak in a sea of red pepper oil. Next is the packet for Xiangshui yu. This is a whole fish that also marinates in chili oil (in Sichuan cooking, everything steeps in chili oil at some point). Finally, at right, is the boxed version of Pixian douban, the same brand as the one at far left. We've got lots of other foodstuffs on the way. Spicygirl mailed five large boxes crammed with local specialties from the US consulate in Chengdu. A product of Yibin 宜宾, this is Sichuan's most famous spirit, 五粮液 Wuliang ye. The name means 'five grain liquid', and it is made from sorghum, rice, glutinous rice, wheat and corn. Chinese liquor, or baijiu 白酒 is an acquired taste for most westerners. That is because if you slam this stuff down like most laowai tend to do, you will be in a world of hurt. Unlike Western spirits, baijiu should be savored, sipped, over a meal. If done properly, there is no better complement to a Sichuan repast than Wuliang ye. Me, I love the stuff. After I learned how to drink it, that is, and I wrestled with plenty of baijiu demons until I got to that point. It has become a rite of passage that every able-bodied male who enters my home for the first time has to drink a shot of Wuliang ye. This stuff costs around US$30 dollars a bottle, so it's probably not a bad idea to drink it slow. I realize this topic has already come and gone in the China blog world, but this book is an investigative report of Chinese peasants by husband and wife team Chen Guidi and Chun Tao. The book details abuses of the peasantry at the hands of local cadre, and it became a huge bestseller before the Chinese government banned its publication and sale in March 2004. It goes by many titles in English, but the most literal is An Investigation Of China's Peasants. Many in the blogging world bemoaned the book's fate, but it became even more popular as a result, and black market publishers printed millions more copies. It is readily available anywhere in China, as you can see from my copy above, which cost 24RMB (US$2.90). The pirates even maintain the distinctive black on yellow design of the original. In fact, it is easier for someone outside of Beijing to get this book than to obtain a CD from one of China's most popular (and legal) alternative rock bands, Second Hand Rose.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/12/2004 03:30:00 AM| |

 
If he is successful in his attempt, I wonder if Guinness will invite him for a series of personal appearances at its museums in Hollywood, Las Vegas, Niagara Falls, and Gatlinburg (Tennessee), etc? I hope so, because then he will have to come into the consulate to get a visa. US law has a special visa category for athletes,artists and entertainers called "P" visas. This fellow would fall under the P-3 category, which 'applies to any alien coming temporarily to the US to perform, teach, or coach as an artist or entertainer, individually or as part of a group under a commercial or noncommercial program that is culturally unique'. Nasal flossing with a viper would certainly qualify as 'culturally unique', don't you think? We get P-3s coming in all the time. Usually, though, they do mundane, boring things like sing, dance or perform classical Indian carnatic music. I think India should send more people like this guy. And being of a general suspicious nature when it comes to the P-3 visa applicant, I would probably require him to demonstrate his talent at the interview. Even if he didn’t get the visa, he could pass a hat around the applicant waiting room, so the day wouldn’t be a total loss…a shout-out to reader and colleague Adham for that great picture!
Borrowing a page from Nancy Gandhi, I thought I’d share breakfast. This is the amazing masala dosa. It is a crepe-like delicacy, containing mashed potatoes, onions, various Indian spices, and best of all, green chilies! That last bit is an innovation of our cook/housekeeper, because she knows I like very hot food. She makes the best I’ve had, because the wrapping isn’t too crispy, unlike every other place I’ve eaten this. Also, the filling can be rather bland, so I’m glad she spices it up. I’ve opened one up so you can see the inside.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/04/2004 04:55:00 PM| |

 
UPDATE: Manipal photos now online here.
A Boy and His Elephant I just returned from an official visit to a place called Manipal in Karnataka state. It is a small town of around 10,000 people, and its claim to fame is that a wealthy physician/industrialist named TMA Pai founded it over 50 years ago to house the private medical university he established. From his initial vision the school has grown to include engineering and other science majors. He made his fortune from manufacturing clay tiles, and Manipal gets its name from the artificial lake which now sits in the giant pit from which his factory extracted the clay used for tiles. Manipal means 'muddy water' in the local language. The school rests on a hill overlooking surrounding valleys, and it provides an ideal environment for study, because there are no distractions, and the nearest major town, Mangalore, is 60 kilometers away. At first I regretted volunteering for the trip, because my plane left Chennai at six in the morning, which meant I had to get up at 0430. But afterwards I was really glad I did. It is easily the most beautiful place I have been to in India so far. The countryside is green, lush and bucolic. Coconut trees, date palms and rice paddies are everywhere, as are emerald streams and rivers. It reminds me a lot of Thailand or Yunnan. This is what I had always imagined South India to be like, in all honesty. It also has nice beaches, just 10 kilometers from the campus, along the Arabian Sea. Mangalore, where I flew in, has one of the coolest airports I've ever seen. It is a tiny one runway strip that rests atop a plateau. As I flew in, I was admiring the deep valleys from my window seat, when from out of nowhere, the landing strip dramatically appeared beneath the plane. From there it is a steep downhill drive into Mangalore or other towns and villages. I wanted to take a picture of the airport from the air, but India is one of those countries with the odd anachronistic rule where they don't let you take photos while in flight. Here's a hint, New Delhi: satellites have already mapped every inch of your country in far greater detail, and far beyond the power of my meager 2.1 megapixel Canon Powershot to add or detract. I also spotted my first elephant. Not the one in the picture; that was in Udupi, on my last day in the area, but on the first day while riding from the airport to Manipal. It was in a tiny village, where if you so much as blinked, you missed it, and I couldn't get my camera out in time. My driver was tearing up the road, playing chicken with every oncoming vehicle no matter its size, passing blind on hairpin turns, and in so doing confirmed for me that he was an absolute madman, just like every one of his brethren in the Great Fraternity of Professional Drivers in Developing Countries. Like I mentioned, Manipal is a college town, and is home to more than 4000 students. Its medical and dental schools are highly ranked in India, and unlike in the US, these are undergraduate subjects. What surprised me is that around 33% of all students are NRIs, or 'Non-Resident Indians', mostly from the USA. These are first and second generation Indian-Americans who choose to study here because it is so difficult to gain admission to medical or dental schools in the US. They get degrees here, and then return to take the qualifying boards in their state of residence. They pay $17000 per year in tuition, while Indians pay around $4500. I toured the facilities, and they are quite modern and advanced for India, because the school plows the tuition of the NRIs right back into infrastructure. The engineering departments are in somewhat worse shape, because they don't get as many NRIs, and their tuitions are far lower, at around $2700 per year ($1500 for Indian students). I made the suggestion to them that they get an alumni association going, because a lot of their graduates end up going to the US for advanced study, and very few of them come back. The school should hit these people hard for donations. We'll see...
A number of beaches are close by, and this is a shot of Malpe Beach. Looks lovely, doesn't it? Well, like so many things in life, appearances can be deceiving. Check my companion site in the next day or two, where I'll reveal why you won't catch me taking any romantic strolls on an Indian beach, at least after the sun goes down. I'll also post more shots from my trip. It truly is a gorgeous area and I can't wait to get back.
- posted by Prince Roy @ 9/02/2004 11:35:00 PM| |