The Times of India SUCKS

Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India
April 27, 2007

Hello All

It's not as crowded or dirty as I remembered it to be, but it certainly is ridiculously hot.

This is the first alone time I've had in two weeks, so I thought I would write a bit down. However, I am not in the best of moods for a variety of reasons.
Here's the breakdown:

Times of India

After pulling a lot of strings, working through a lot of connections, and putting on my best " I-love-India-even-though-you-think-I'm-a-complete-Americanized-moron" smile, I got the job with TOI. I quit the next day. Yeah, quit. Long story short, I didn't appreciate getting jumbled 1,000 word lumps (sentences, paragraphs, and pages are not the right words to describe the crap people sent in) and turning them into 300 word articles so that some idiot could get credit for the article. No, thank you. Also, I sat at my desk for an hour, twiddling my thumbs before the guy working with me looked at me and offered me some work. It was the last time he looked at me for 7 hours. Did I mention that the job was from 3 p.m. to 10 p.m.? When I asked the editor if I could do this part time because I am taking Hindi classes and going to the orphanage a few times in the evening, he looked at me like I was insane, and then said, " We all work six days a week or don't work here at all. You make the decision." Fine. I know you think that you are some amazing personality because of your sensationalized-good-for-nothing-let's-focus-on-the-Bacchan-wedding-for-a-solid-week newspaper, but NO, THANK YOU. At 10, when I left, after staring at the computer screen blankly for six hours, I told them I wouldn't be coming back.

Surprisingly, my parents and my relative, who had spent the last few days in constant nepotism limbo, were unbelievably supportive.

My parents had warned me about the way some businesses ran in India, but of course, I am incredibly naive. When my Aunt and I went to the TOI office for an interview, they kept us waiting for two hours so that they looked incredibly important and busy. This probably would have gone on for a while if my Aunt hadn't gone to yell at the security officer, and then we were promptly let in.

Also, it just wasn't my kind of office ambiance. No one besides the editor and the guy he had me working for, said anything to me all day. Not that they didn't stare or glare, but nothing. To them, I'm just some privileged American looking a way to kill some time. Listen, people, if I were so privileged, spoiled, or stupid, I would have kept the newspaper job just so I could have put it on my CV instead of trying to learn a little more about my background.

Phew, that felt good.

Culture

I can't get over how every single thing is out in the open, and how your family breathes down your neck every single second of the day. On my first (and last) day at the job, my aunt called me four times to make sure I was doing OK. It's difficult for someone like me who is so used to my independence that I think I've become a bit selfish with my time and responsibilities. At the same time, though, I love the sense of family. That was another reason I don't take the job. I would never get to see my family, and hang out with them during the weekends if I had stayed with the Times. Now that I think about it, I would have done the job if it hadn't been in India. It's just that I want a little bit more out of this country than that extra addition to my CV. I love how everyone here is your family. No matter what. The "uncle" that got me my job is a friend of my Mom's brother and I've never met him before.

But he's family, you know?

I'm a little apprehensive about sticking around here for so long because I keep getting phone calls from "aunties" about their sons. I've even had a few drop ins, and let me tell you, I don't think they'll be coming back. The first day that I got to India, my Kaka, Kaki, and I went to the Temple and on our way out to the car, as I was walking with my Kaka (my uncle), someone whistled at us all the way down to the Temple. While I am with my uncle. In front of a temple, for the love of Krishna. I know anyone who has ever visited India knows it can be much worse (I slapped someone while I was waiting for my aunt to pick me up after I got off the bus from Mehsana to Ahmedabad). I've just learned to find my voice. Yes, that's what I'm glad I've found. My voice. I would have never been able to quit such a place before or stand up for myself in a sea of a billion (literally) strangers.

I love cricket. Love, love, love it. I just wish Harbhajan Singh wasn't going to Bangladesh; I miss him.

I can't wait for the finals on Saturday, and this WC has been amazing. I just wish India had gotten a bit farther.

Even Ireland got farther than them (at least they were shut down at 77 runs...that was such a pathetic game). As you can see, my biggest vice has returned.
No one comes between me and my cricket. No one.
I think the rest of India feels the same way, too.

Hey, at least I immerse myself, right?

Anne Moyer

Where in GOD'S NAME are you.

That is all.

El Fin

OK, my lovelies, I know that this is a shitty update, but I just haven't been in the mood. There are lots of stories, mostly nasty ones that end up with me hitting someone or me sweating like a pig every where I go in this 43 degree weather. The good news is that I am going to Kashmir in a few weeks. That is my only saving grace at this moment in time. Now, as I leave you, I am looking for a new way to spend my time. I am thinking of going to Mumbai and trying to be the new Kajol. Wish me luck. Lots of Love, Khushbu P.S. Remind me to tell you how ridiculous it is for India to put out an arrest warrant for Richard Gere after he kissed Shilpa Shetty on the cheek. How is this country going to grow when it pulls stuff like this?