The other night I went to the engagement party of my research assistant's brother. I had no idea what to expect or what to wear. I have only been to one Indian engagement party and I was pretty underdressed for it. My RA sent me a text message that said no special clothing required, everyone's wearing western clothing. That is actually quite difficult because I brought very few clothes from home with me. I wore some nice pants and a fun dress that I bought in London. I was picked up from IIM campus about 830pm by several girls in short short fancy dresses and tons of make up talking on their phones and smoking cigarettes - it does not take much to make me feel old and out of place. We drove for a while out of town, picking up others and switching cars along the way. My RA's family is in the navy, so they had the party at the local naval base. We arrived late, but it did not seem to matter much. There were chairs all around a nice lawn with a bar on one side and a DJ and dance floor on the other. Everyone was really nice and interested to meet me. There were a few older men with huge white mustaches - which mark them as from the Rajput caste, many young people gathered in groups by age, and family members here and there. Everyone except the children was taking advantage of the bar and I wondered whether the rules must be different for alcohol in the navy (Gujarat is a dry state). The family is mostly Roman Catholic and my RA refers to herself as Anglo-Indian. Her mother seems very young and spunky and her father seems extremely gentle, I could see it in his eyes right away. Before I knew it everyone - and I mean everyone - was dancing together in front of the DJ. Grandparents, parents, teens and children were kicking up their heels to Bollywood, Elvis and hip hop. All kinds of tasty appetizers were circling around and it was quite fun. It took me a little while to get on the dance floor, but how could I not, even my RA's grandmother was up there?

Farm Life and X-mas in Baroda

I have been staying on a friend's farm for the past several days and loving every minute of it. It is totally rustic and fantastic. I am allowed to do whatever I want in the kitchen, and after living a dorm room for over a month I realize that I have been dreaming of cooking. It makes me feel so good just to chop vegetables and the like. The air is lovely, I've never seen so many birds and we can go and pluck eggplants off the bush for dinner. There are many water buffalo and there is homemade butter and yogurt.

I came back to Baroda for a birthday party on x-mas, which was a nice way to avoid missing this day with family. I will write more as soon as I can - internet access has been and will be limited for a few more days yet.

Back from Rajasthan, and already off again

I apologize for a lapse of several days in my blog writing! I didn't realize until now that a week has passed. It has been quite a week indeed. I have attained an office space and begun to work with my research assistant. I spent three days in Rajasthan interviewing laborers, seed sellers and agents, middlemen that bring laborers to Gujarat to work in cotton seed plotting fields, and farmers. I was aided in all of that by a labor union in Rajasthan and their lovely volunteer who is my age and speaks English, Hindi and Telugu fluently (perhaps she will be willing to make a trip to Andhra Pradesh with me for some interviews!?). It was absolutely fascinating and exhausting. I have spent the day today preparing to go to Anand again to stay with a farmer friend of mine. In exchange for help contacting local laborers and farmers, and setting up an interview with a seed seller/agent, I am expected to help on the farm and cook. Since I have not had the facilities for cooking since I left Seattle I am delighted by the exchange.

In Rajasthan I found that my Hindi skills badly need refreshing. No one I met spoke or understood Gujarati, despite being very near the border with Gujarat. I had a lot of trouble making Hindi - not Gujarati - come out of my mouth. After a few days of full immersion, though, I felt it beginning to come back. I was grateful to have an interpreter who knew what she was doing and with the patience of a saint!

On the trip back I had a scary experience. The woman that had been interpreting for me had dropped me off at the new bus depot in Dungarpur. I was waiting patiently for the bus to arrive and trying to avoid the eyes on me from every direction. The bus arrived and I made sure that it was the correct one before boarding. I tried to get comfortable in my seat as others boarded and there was the general chaos and bustle. I took out my book and tried to focus on it, but after a few minutes I felt the commotion outside intensify.

I turned around to see a huge crowd of young men beginning to gather behind the buses (there were about four or five other buses getting ready to take off). They began to shout something in unison that I could not follow. I waited for them to move on, but as more and more people gathered my heart began to race. I looked at the faces of the other passengers to try to understand whether I should be fearful, or just ignore it. A man a few seats ahead looked a little westernized and likely English speaking, so I made eye contact and asked him what was happening. By this time everyone on the bus, and the other buses on each side was looking at the growing crowd, and it seemed to me with attentive, nervous, eyes. The man said, I don’t know, it seems like something is wrong. I asked whether it might be some kind of protest and he said perhaps.

One of the buses pulled out, and the men parted for it. This made me hopeful, but I was still unsure whether it would be better for me to get off the bus or stay on. Our bus did not seem to be headed anywhere. Another bus arrived and suddenly the men began to jump onto the roof of it. I took a small bit of video of the men climbing on from the back and all of the shouting. I sat anxiously hoping that our bus would soon pull out without incident. I was sort of chanting to myself, please don’t let this turn into a riot, please don’t let anyone take notice of me, please let us leave before this escalates any further.

I made myself stay as calm as possible and noticed that the crowd’s attention seemed to focus on this other bus. I was so grateful when we started to back away, and the men parted to let us through, I could have cried for joy. I hid my face and saw only a man taking photographs and a police man with a whistle. I did not find out what it was about. As we drove away I took deep breathes and calmed down. I tried to take in the sights of the countryside and just be at peace with being on my way ‘home’ to Ahmedabad.

Otherwise, though, the trip was really fantastic. I accomplished more than I had hoped to and learned so very much. It will take me several days to type up everything that I did and heard and saw. Each night I scrawled page after page of notes, but now I am going through the process of adding to them and putting them into the computer. I think that when I am finished with the notes it will be something like 25 pages typed single spaced!

I am delighted that I will be in Anand and back in Baroda for x-mas time. It would be really sad to be here on campus, not that people will be gone (most people do not celebrate x-mas and it is not a holiday here) but because it would be the same as any other day. A lot of folks here have been asking me about my plans - it is assumed that I am Christian or Catholic because I am American and white. I will be going to a birthday party on x-mas for a photographer friend of the woman that I stayed with the last time I was in Baroda.

Things are definitely moving quickly around here and I have to go finish packing and preparing for two interviews tomorrow morning before the trip! Happy holidays and I miss you all terribly!

Baroda: Last few minutes of my birthday

A birthday I am not likely to forget. I woke up in a lovely house and ate toast, fruit and tea with a friend of a friend of my step mother's. She gave me a little cute box as a gift and wished me success and good luck and many good years. She dropped me in town (Baroda) at my friend Dan’s hotel – the super funky Presidential Towers. We ran off to escape his very sweet if overwhelming Parsi host family. We found these cool murals, which two guys in charge were delighted to be able to show off to us (at least it seemed to me). We then went to the Baroda Museum which was large and interesting but not well cared for. There we saw everything from a whale skeleton to old Chinese dishes, sculptures and paintings of wealthy folks. From there we went to the Landmark – a huge western style bookstore and more. Unfortunately we only had Coffee Day as a food choice and we were starving. We bought books and then we went to see a movie: Sorry Bhai. It was perfectly horrible, but also entertaining. We both alternated all day between missing our loved ones and marveling at India.

I was delighted to spend my birthday with a friend. During the movie, at the intermission, there were two amazing old-school style commercials. I’m not sure that I can explain them, but they were hilarious. I still don't know whether they were real commercials or jokes, they seemed to have been produced in the early 70s. We left there and rushed to the hotel to change for the wedding. I had bought myself two new nice kurtas and dressed in a good old salwaar kamiz. Unfortunately it turned out to be not nearly the shiny, flashy, colorful, sequined dress of nearly all of the other 500 (my guess) women attending the wedding. One young woman asked me why I was not wearing a sari, and I said: because I don't know how (kind of obvious, I thought). We got on a bus with others going to the wedding and I got a small taste of what Dan’s life has been like since September. Firoz (his host mother) is hilarious, loud and loving and a little overbearing. The wedding reminded me a lot of a Jewish wedding I went to in Brooklyn so many years ago. I mentioned to Dan the resemblance of the two weddings and he said that, yes, Parsi weddings were a lot like Jewish weddings. At one point the goofy DJ began playing I just called to say I love you and Dan and I learned that it had been both of our favorite song years before. Then they played Stand by Me and I told Dan that that was our song, that our friends had sung it at my wedding. Then my rickshaw came and Dan and I had to say goodbye, and I rode off to wonderland – also known as 'Amaltas' after the tree with the big long beans. My host's brother was having a 28th wedding anniversary with a few other folks. They sang happy birthday and happy anniversary and we blew out a single candle together. There followed some interesting conversation (politics, Mumbai, prohibition and Bt cotton) and some mango wine appeared.

Anand

I left Tuesday morning at 530, I think it was, from Ahmedabad by train, and arrived in Anand at about 8am. I made my way to the Anand Agricultural University and it was pretty dead. I was feeling sick and wandered around a bit looking for a bathroom. All the buildings were locked up. I went into the guest house feeling fairly desperate. I asked a boy that was sitting there for the bathroom and he went and got another boy who went and got a third boy. He said, Madam, this is a guest house. And I said, yes I know. Could I please use the bathroom. Thankfully, after several minutes of deliberation, they then opened a room for me.

I called a woman I had been planning to meet with for lunch. I had only met her once for two seconds at a workshop, and at first she said that she would wait to come and get me until about noon, but then once I realized that the entire place was closed for a Muslim holiday, she took pity on me and told me she would leave sooner. It was a beautiful day and I was glad to not have to come up with questions and find people to talk to. I just sat in a garden near the organic farming center and continued reading my book (Sophie’s Choice). Since there weren’t many people around I didn’t draw all that much attention, and I was able to relax and enjoy the lovely morning weather. Purvi called to say that I could start walking towards the gate, and a girl approached to talk to me, which is really quite a rare occurrence. Usually I have to smile and nod and ask some simple question in order to get someone to enter into conversation with me. But before long my lunch date was there.

We went into town and sat in a coffee shop and then went to a nice chain south Indian restaurant. We chatted and chatted. It turns out that she was a research assistant for Bina Agarwal (a famous Indian feminist economist). She had lots of information and tips and I think she is going to become a friend. She invited me to her farm and told me that I could stay as long as I want as long as I am willing to cook for her and work on the farm some. I told her that I would be delighted. The very next day I got a text message from her saying that there were three villages near Matar in which there were about 100 farmers growing Bt cotton, and would I like to talk to them? I responded by saying that she is awesome, and she said 'tell me something I don’t know' – so I have clearly made a new friend.

In the news

Yep, that is me. I went to the IIM Traditional Food Festival with some other Americans living in Ahmedabad and a photographer ran up to us, snapped a photo and ran off. A rickshaw driver I know saw the picture, showed his kids, and saved it for me.

My head is spinning. I found a research assistant. I had two interviews today with central figures in the history of Bt cotton seed production in Gujarat. Tomorrow I am going by train to the city of Anand to visit the Agricultural University and then I continue on to the city of Baroda (Vadodara). I'll spend a few days (including my birthday) in Baroda with a friend of a friend. Baroda is supposedly the cultural capital of Gujarat, and I am looking forward to seeing something new. A friend from Harvard doing research in the south of Gujarat will also be there.

It was a hugely productive day today, but I am so exhausted that I cannot manage to do the writing that I need to do before leaving town. I wish I didn't have to be in India every day. A day off now and again would be lovely. I enjoy it here. It is fascinating and I learn new things constantly. But there is so much to take in, so much attention on me in the streets and around, so much intensity, that I long for the ease of daily life in Point Reyes or Seattle.

The past few days I have been feeling that things are finally getting off the ground. Yesterday and today I had my biggest success yet. I have been looking for the managing director of a certain seed company based in Ahmedabad since June. I have known all along that an interview with him will fill in so many gaps that exist in my knowledge of Bt cotton seed production in Gujarat. Over the summer I tried all of the telephone numbers and email addresses that others had given me to contact him, and none worked. I found a vague address or two, but did not pursue that option because I was both nervous about my language skills and hopelessly lost in the streets of this city. Since arriving almost three weeks ago I have been trying more numbers and asking around. A few people called for the phone listing for me and were told that no such listing exists. I went by the student activities office the other day and asked the man in charge with a Portuguese name (who I desperately wish spoke Portuguese, but does not and swears he is 100 percent Indian). At first he tried calling the phone company and they said there was no listing. Then - as we talked I was impressing him with my knowledge of elementary Gujarati - he had the feeling he had heard of this company. He drew me a map to a place where he thought there was a 'famous' seed company. (The heart of this story, I think, is that the search for this man has also been the process of me getting up the nerve to actually talk to him.) The next day I ventured out. I followed the map on foot and past crowds of curious onlookers. Without much trouble I found the site highlighted on the map, but it was a government headquarters for agro-industries support, or something like that. I went in and was sent to talk to the boss. He was surprisingly sweet and helpful. I was given water and offered tea. The boss declared at first that there is no such company, but as I just sat there and told him the name again, he picked up the phone and called the telephone directory – this is the fourth time I or someone else on my behalf had tried this route – but I waited patiently just the same. Only, for some reason this time it worked. He wrote down the number, but no address was given. He then called the number for the company and wrote down the full address. He even told them that I was on my way. He drew me another map and sent me on my way. It was really some incredible luck. I followed that map and again faced some oppressive heat and crowds of curious people watching me stroll by. In no time I found myself facing a sign with the company’s name and I could not believe I didn’t have my camera to get a picture on this momentous occasion. I wandered into the office and introduced myself. I was met with mild curiosity from the folks in the offices and another glass of water. I was called into an office and a man told me that the person I was looking for would be out for a while since he had just had knee surgery. I was again offered water and tea. I left my card and wrote the name of a professor from the US that has written about this man, and there was an immediate spark of recognition. Oh yes, the man said, he was just here recently, I will tell Dr. Desai that you came by to see him. This morning I received a call from Dr. Desai himself saying that he would be willing to meet me anytime and that I should just go over to his house. I set up the appointment for Monday (I need time to prepare for this important interview). I literally jumped up and down after hanging up.

The weather today is like a dream. Hot, perhaps in the upper 80s, with this light breeze pushing the warm air around. It does not seem as polluted as usual. It feels like a perfect summer day in northern California, when it is finally warm enough to swim in the ocean.