The Indian Adventure

A Broken Man

2007-05-15T00:38:00.000-07:00

Right.

So most of you probably already know this, and the rest may well hate me so much from my non-communication to care to give this a read and find out why I've been ignoring you all...

Saturday 5th May, 6AM. The entire BW team were packed off to Gurgaon to take part in a 36-hour, no sleep, team-building exercise. From the outset I knew this was going to rank high on the list of 'Worst 36 Hours I have Ever Experienced'. It was all about 'testing yourself' and 'finding your inner strength'. Quite

Then, at 3AM, Sunday morning, 21 hours into the 36, the organisers tell us its time for the Assault Course. So, sleep-deprived, and lacking the night-vision that they obviously thought we had, we set out to run, jump and climb.

And, in the process of running along a raised platform, it toppled over and i fell, breaking my leg in 2 places.

But, as I did it on a BW exercise, and the health and safety was non-existent, they picked up the bill, paid me my wages and told me to stay at home. Oh, and gave me a car. Result.

However, with Peck, Sarah, Milly and Merel arriving tommorow and thursday, travelling is a bit trciky. We'll see.

So, having dashed into the office just to send this Blog and let you all know that Im not dead, I love you all and im not ignoring you at all, take care of yourselves. I'll try to aswel.

I should really go and speak to Jehangir, and the rest of the team now, rather than blatantly abusing their internet connection.

Speak to you all soon.

H

In-out in-out, shake it all about

2007-04-25T06:01:00.000-07:00

Have I used this headline before? I daresay I must have on such a Wednesday as this. Fortune Editor Sheri Prasso told us that the only ONLY time that they have ever switched their cover story within 36 hours of the magazine going to print was when Deng Xiao Ping died one Monday. This was unfortunate for Fortune (and for the lovely little Chinese man as well, obviously) as they print on a Wednesday afternoon. Now another ex-major world leader that pissed off the US, Boris Yeltsin (may his Tank-climbing body rest in peace, although I'll be the first to bet that a memo leaked from Putin's inner sanctum probably blames Berezovsky for it) died on Monday, but that wasn't the cause of this week's debacle.

I was given the cover again on Monday - and was naturally rather happy. It was Manas' final swansong, a tale of Interest Rate hikes and growth slowdown thanks to some cack-handed money management from the Central Bank. He quit as Consulting Editor (and general Economic God of the magazine after the Editor change). Interventionalist Jehangir, however, had other ideas. The cover (after the layouts and story had been finalised) was pulled at 1800 yesterday, 26 hours before deadline. The replacement was then found (I can't mention it for legal reasons. Got pulled up on that a few weeks back...). I was then in the office until 2300 on the phone with Anand, the writer, and the design team.

As this was going on, my story, on MMS technology was being held, dropped, placed, fixed, rewritten, taken.... The overall formwise changed around 8 times. Of the original 4 stories, one remains.

So I arrive this morning only to find that the Economy cover is back. But it needs to be 'jazzed up'. That is BW code for 'Give it to Henry'. So i set about sprinkling my little youthful touch on paragraphs about credit rating, manufacturing indexes and rate fluctuations.

Alokesh then tells me that my story needs loads of work and can I do that as well? No. So it gets held for next week. Then more disaster, a columnist has messed up his back and cant send his piece, and a one pager from the US has fallen through. So mine is back in - but it still needed a good 3 hours of work. Bit of spice in the cover, loads of reworking on the story....

A look at Alokesh's formwise around lunchtime was quite a sight. Red pen everywhere. Arrows, crossing outs, replacements - the lot.

Its 1900 now, and I think things are frozen. We don't have the cover cover Headline or Intro yet, and Jehangir could STILL decide to drop the economy cover, but fingers are crossed. Its not even a bloody special issue. Still, with 'special' people making decisions, anything could happen.

But do I really care? NOPE, cos I'm offski to Bangalore tomorrow for two days of spa pampering and wine tasting. The car they have arranged to take me to the airport arrives at 5.30. I hope I'll get some sleep. And to satisfy my journalistic pride, I even arranged an interview with the V-P of Discovery Channel on the Thursday afternoon. I'll unfortunately have to pass up on the Ayurvedic treatment. Alas.

Cheers.

Hard Work.

2007-04-21T03:47:00.000-07:00

This time last week I was sat in Nainital Yacht Club feeling much better than the annoyed, frustrated and 'at-wits-end' Delhi Henry. Today, that Delhi Henry is far far behind. Monday and Tuesday were a breeze, Wednesday ended at the inexplicably early time of 2230 and Thursday brought some hassles - but not too many.

Thursday night at Urban was packed, had a really good time with Molly, Jason, Amicie et al, and the night moved on to Agni (currently the only nightclub in Delhi after Climax shut because the rent jumped 30% and Ministry of Sound was closed down because the authorities found that it lacked a certain document - a liquor licence. Kinda brings 'never forget the simple shit' to a whole new level.) where much revelry was to be had.

Then on Friday my smile got even bigger, when I was given the invitation to represent BW at the launch of Discovery Channel;s Travel & Living section in Bangalore. So next Thursday, a car will come to my house at 6AM and drive me to the airport, where my flight to Bangalore waits. Upon arrival , I'm chauffeured to the Oberoi for breakfast, and then the obligatory press conference and dialogue. After lunch, I have 3 hours to check out the Hotel spa, before a wine-appreciation session, dinner and jazz concert. The next morning, more breakfast and spa-treatment, then a trip to a local vineyard for more wine tasting, before flying back to Delhi that evening. For free. I might write an article - i might not. The Press Junket in all its glory!

So that's rather nice.

Yesterday Peter Chloe and Mark had a house party - 80s themed. Around 20% of the guests made the effort - but those that didn't looked on in awe! Rather good fun, took me right back to AC days of stupid clothes and dodgy music. My attire of Converse, Chequered shorts, white shirt, loud tie, hat and eye make-up was supposed to be Boy George-esque. It certainly got me noticed wandering around Lajpat Nagar looking for a bloody rickshaw.

Anita and I

with Mark

Tomorrow brings the highly-anticipated Pool Party, open bar and free food for 8 hours at a swimming pool. Perhaps they need a lifeguard? the organisers give the impression that invites are like gold-dust, at the same time handing out 5-6 a time to anyone who asks. It might be advisable to employ the old 'towel on the sun lounger before sunrise' trick.

And on top of all that excitement, I have a story running this week. Another byline for the collection.

Cheers.

Apologies. I took a break.

2007-04-18T04:27:00.000-07:00

It seems an age since I last wrote. Blogger informs me that it was 13 days. More reliably, Mum simply lets me know that it has been too bloody long.

It's not like nothing has been happening, in fact quite the opposite, but finding time and/or the right mood to blog has been difficult of late.

You see, unlike other blogs, I find this more as a journal, or a diary - unlike the opinion-churning machines that litter the Internet. Whereas other bloggers get really riled about something and subsequently jump on the computer to add to the 1.6 million updates a day, I find that I have to actually feel like letting everyone (or perhaps slightly less people than everyone) know what I have been up to.

Cathartic paragraph completed, let the tales flow...

I'm going to go backwards, thus you get the more recent stuff in the best writing - right? So last night I went for a lovely meal with a large gathering of friends, many of whom have been travelling or simply over-worked of late. So everyone had a story to tell, and stories that they wanted to hear. Rachel, Rachel, Sophie, Suzanna, Molly, Romain, Mary (who I have been asked to refer to as "the most gorgeous, keen witted girl who, one day, when I thought all was truly dark and dismal, I met and she said I looked just like her brother". Not that I like to abandon my editorial integrity by selling my writing. How Times of India of me.) and then some nice people who I met for the first time.

Now here comes a really strange story. So everyone is chatting, and I introduce myself to a girl. She turns out to be 18 (to which both Rachel (fellow gap yearer) and I cheered another young person!) but more interestingly, lives in Bristol. Of course, I ask about Joe, and would you believe it, she knows him. And his mate, and his ex-girlfriend. I mention the Isle of Man, and she says her grandfather used to own a hotel there. Which one, I ask, wondering if the conversation could get any weirder. "Well it was a really big grand hotel but it went bankrupt, and was used to store German interns in the war." I took a stab. "The Bayqueen?", half hoping that she would say no, just to reassure me that flying to India means leaving home behind. "Oh yeah, that's it! Do you know it well?". JEEEEEESUS. Is this the Truman Show?

The world isn't small, it's bloody miniscule.

And to round off a quite fantastic meal (Swagath, Defence Colony Market - Happy Hour til 8PM) a German documentary producer who was invited (rather inspiringly, it turned out) to eat with us, decided to pick up the entire tab. Wonderful.

On Monday, I caught up with Jason over dinner with some friends of his. Another enjoyable meal, the friends were Wiltshire Rars, and a real good laugh! His step-dad is a sailing fanatic (Cowes, AmCup, Sydney-Hobart, the works) so we chatted about all that, and he runs an adventure company in the hills for corporates. So that;s a bloody good contact. She sources fashion for UK chains. However, come 11PM, I was almost falling asleep on the table, having gone to bed at 5.30AM for 3 hours sleep that morning. That was because... (ok, seeing the flaws in writing backwards...)

So Thursday was a shit day. At 2AM on Wednesday (technically Thursday morning) I left the office pretty confident that we could wrap up the issue with no probs. It was as if we were 3-0 up at half-time. So, come 7.30PM on Thursday, fannying around with contents and other stupid mistakes that should have been sorted out, we had thrown away the advantage. The issue went late, AGAIN, and we all left in a bad mood. It wasn't helped by Marketing's little coup de grace:

So Editorial make a cover, right. We specify what we want, Design make the thing. Design and Edit are on one side of the office, Marketing on the other. In recent weeks, Marketing has been hearing about our stories, and selling ad packages based on them. I.e a story is slated on HLL. So they call the FMCG giant and, promising a story, get loads of ads in. Now this week, we had a cover package on Great Places to Work. Google was our highest new entry, at 3. So we stuck a picture of a helmet from the google office on our cover with the Headline (the helmet symbolises the 'freedom' and 'creativity' that Google's employees are extended. Its another story, but the feel-good atmosphere they create in their office is enough to make you violently sick).
Marketing saw this, somehow, at 2PM, when it got signed off. Then, they got on the phones and managed to sell two huge ads, and the bellyband to Google. A Bellyband is a paper strip that goes around the magazine, forcing the reader to open it at a certain page. So that meant we had Google on the cover, Google on the belly band and Google as the opening ad. I saw the funny side. I mean, our job is to write good stories, marketing is to make money. And hats off to the cheeky buggers, they did their spying and managed to sell a product in super-quick time. However, I was the only one to see this side of it, as the edit team went beserk, pulled the cover and we had to start again. For comparison, at Fortune magazine, Edit and Marketing are on separate floors, and if you talk to a marketing person (even socially) you risk losing your job.

Thursday I was also informed that my scheduled trip to Punjab to interview a load of contracted farmers and their massive MNC giant employers had been called off. But not entirely. A senior editor had got wind of it and pulled rank. Which stung a little.

Then, after Urban's kiss-kiss best-friends weekly escapade, my week got a little worse. Girl problems, naturally. I had done 7 months of singledom in Delhi's world of superficiality and had almost got to the end. But then I broke, and in typical Henry fashion, fell a little too hard. In my defence, she didn't exactly put me off, and it took her three weeks of on-off to tell me but then, very politely, she suggested that it was probably best if... etc. etc.

So that wasn't all too good. Thus, on Friday, at around 2PM, when an email arrived from Rachel along the lines of "Look, this city has pissed me off so I'm going to escape for the weekend, does anyone want to come?", I was on the phone in an instant. Four hours, 3 stories, 2 hours of dragging edit meet and 1 smiley "can I take the day off tomorrow" later, we were
rickshawing our way across town to find a bus, anywhere.

Nainital was where we ended up, at 5:45 AM on Saturday after a 9 hour bus ride from Delhi. It sounds bad, it really wasn't. I got on and managed to offend the bus driver instantly, sitting down on the front row next to his two 13 year old daughters. I honestly didn't see them, sat down and turned back to chat with Rachel about the excitement of skipping town for the
weekend. (Rachel is a seasoned backpacker, turning up in pajama bottoms and cotton top, me on the other hand in Ralph Lauren polo and LOOK AT ME I'M A TOURIST chequered shorts). Anyway, it took them to actually stand up and move away for me to twig, and apologise profusely. So Rachel sat there and I sat opposite, next to an INCREDIBLY drunk but very very
friendly man who was chuffed to be able to talk to 'Henbrey and Maychel', at least until he began vomiting out of the window. He did, however, regain his composure to offer us some Samosas. We politely refused.

So then we arrived in the "Lake District of India" - and it truly was beautiful, as the foothills of the Himalayas should jolly well be. Two mountains, with a lake in between, and the town on the edge of the lake, creeping up the hills in places. We checked in (after checking out every single hotel in town and bargaining the guy down (£7.20 for a night, complete with hot water!!!)) and began exploring, but not after our first chai of the weekend (the first of many). The weekend was great. We went go-karting, roller disco-ing (ok, i refrained from this ankle-breaking exercise in stupidity, but cheered a-little-tipsy Rachel on in her pursuit), rambling up the hills, a little bit of shopping, some Jelebi making, lots of jelebi eating, mini-golfing, rowing on the lake and even went to Nainital Zoo, where there were some incredible animals in horrific conditions.
Rachel studied Zoology at Cambridge. It came in handy, And to top it off, we managed to get hold of Nainital Yacht Club's finest water craft, a 16-foot solid wood dinghy. Following a lovely little sail around the lake, it was time for high tea at the club. A far cry from Delhi - perfect.

Sunday evening came all too soon. But, after a bus ride down the hairpins that had me feeling very queasy (the hindi music blaring out and white chocolate eggs I had just consumed didn't help, in addition to seeing many of the other passengers retching out of the windows), we boarded the train to Delhi. The only problems were that we had waitlisting 45 and 46 tickets in 3rd Class Unreserved Sleeper. We fought our way on, and found beds. Unfortunately, that didn't deter anyone from jumping on our beds and demanding them. "Can I go 50/50?" one charming young man with a hare-lip asked Rachel. Contemplating either staying awake all night or placing our health and belongings in the care of some pretty dodgy looking men, we abandoned the idea. "There's a thin line between being brave and being stupid" summed Rachel. Too true. Getting our tickets refunded, we headed for the bus stand and 9 hours later were back in the Big D.

Now i have the travelling bug. Milly Merel Sarah and Henry arrive in less than a month, but I fear I may not be able to last that long. Rachel and Anita are planning a 4 day break next week. I'm very very tempted.

So now I'm bang up to date, and it's back to the pages. Not a huge issue this week, and all my stuff is under control, but you never know in this place. Maybe Mamohdan Singh will kick the bucket, and that spine-chilling cry of "We need to change the Formwise" will go up. "You unlucky bastards need to stay up all night", they mean.

Cheers.

Rising Damp to Rabid Monkeys

2007-04-05T01:12:00.000-07:00

Hello.

Apologies for my absence from the blogosphere. The blogo-what, I hear you cry - unless you a a bearded type who eats lots of MicroChips, smokes rollies and plays a little too much Warcraft for their mental well-being (in that case, stop reading my blog you non-friend, and go back to slaughtering those huge-eared dwarf men with your triple-bladed war axe). Don't worry, I'm not turning into a blogoholic techie nerd, utilising all my newly-learned blogcabulary. In truth, last week I wrote a review of an appalling book about using blogs for business and edited a column about the bloody things, and this week re-wrote a story on how India Inc. (that's what we Fuzzy-Business-Hacks like to call 'corporates that operate from India') has yet to grasp the concept of a blog. To me it seems blindingly obvious - more than half the population of this country live in areas where receiving the bloody post is a minor miracle, and couldnt give two shits about Mr. FatCat Singh and his weekly drawlings about going to the gym and sitting through marketing meetings.

The recurring blog-factor aside, it has been a rather busy week, even by Delhi standards. After the to-ing and fro-ing with owners, brokers and any other ers that fancied their cut of Ian's flat, I finally took possesion of the keys on Thursday. The same day I met Jes, a Danish entreprenuer and star of my latest byline-winning article for the first of 2 meetings that weekend. Saturday night was Anita's leaving party and birthday celebration, a boisterous event that took in one restaurant, one nightclub and a house-party, and finally ended closer to 12PM than 12AM. The food was excellent (Punjabi By Nature, Vasant Vihar - if you are ever in Delhi, without me), the nightclub was dire (but unfortunately probably the 5th best in Delhi) and the house-party fun. Needless to say, Ms Goyal will be missed.

So Sunday was virtually written off after a few (hundred) cups of coffee, some pastries and the obligatory 'so funny and/or storyline-less that you can watch it with only half a braincell' movie (It was Zoolander on this occasion), but i managed to ship most of my clothes over to the new place and spend the first night there. But then...

BANG BANG BANG.

Urg..... my mobile says 6.20...

I stagger to the front door and open it. No-one. BANG BANG BANG. Oh, i realise, its coming from the balcony. So i fling open the curtains (it's blindingly sunny outside) and...

SHIT!!! - I jump back about 6 foot, as these two monkeys (one baby and one huge bastard thing, at least 3 foot tall and the same wide) start going ape-shit (literally) with their arms all over the place and mouth making that 'crawskfdsif hiss sdkfgjhsdg' noise that only monkeys - and a few cats - can do. Come on Henry, you're the bigger, stronger, more intelligent primate, THINK!

So I bang the window and its their turn to jump back, onto the balcony rail. Ha. Stupid bloody monkeys. I redraw the curtains.

BANG

By now I'm pretty much awake, at least enough to comprehend that its not the door that is banging, but the window. Opening the curtains again, I see the bigger monkey running to the window and jumping at it, fully outspread, only to bash his head, crawl away, look stupid, and then TRY AGAIN! It reminded me of the kids at school (CRHS, not AC, i must add) that would spend most lessons other than PE in the toilets trying desparately hard to set light to the ceramic sinks with their lighters. At least the monkeys realised their stupidity and left, whereas the toilet-kids just gave up and smashed the alarm.

Monday was spent finishing my first 'main' review - of Karan Bilimoria's Bottled For Business - and finishing the In Depth story on Jes. That night I also shipped over the remaining stuff from the basement flat. I swear, it's lovely to live in a place that isn't trying to give me a pulmonary condition. Tuesday was much of the same, another review to do - the same 'Henry, I need you to pour some acid' request from Latha, on a book called 'ping' about a frog. Honestly, sometimes im a little harsh on books, but this one is plain SHITE! - and the blog story re-write. However, I decided a little light relief was in order, and headed down to Romains for a spot of poker. My fortunes waxed and waned, but I ended up leaving 100 rupees richer. £1.20 ain't bad for a few hours work!!!

And yesterday was, as predicted, another long one - though not too bad. Again Jehangir swanned in around 8PM and AGAIN read the story and didn't like it (a piece on stock lending by our Bombay market expert - yep, as boring as it sounds), so Henry was back on the phones, back on Word and back reworking. But at least i could watch England's bowlers skittle out Sri Lanka...

4 Hours later, at midnight, the story is ready for Alokesh and England are 11-2. Great. In the time Alokesh takes to proof it, however, we're up to 69-2 off 13, and i leave the office around 00.45 in pretty good spirits. So imagine my sorrow to find that we lost, BY 2 RUNS! Oh the pain. Still, when the ribbing began this morning, I only had to reference that I'd rather England lose all their remaining games than see them back home, manager-less and losing all their lucrative advertising contracts. That usually does the job.

Now Im sure this has done the rounds many times back home, but Joe sent it to me yesterday and it went down a treat here: Have you heard that the Pakistani Cricket Team have given up playing cricket?

They've turned to Bob-slaying instead.

Brilliant. But sick.

We'll stick with brilliant.

Cheers.

The average age of a combat soldier in Vietnam was

2007-03-27T04:51:00.000-07:00

19!

Wow, that's so cool, now I can... um.... well I can go to.... um.... Actually, being 19 is really just being 18+1, just without the "Oh, so you're only 18, wow" thing. Now it's "19? Hmmm, shouldn't you be in college?". But, I guess one should not knock it until one has tried it, so I'll let you know how it worked out in 363 days.

I did, however, have a great birthday weekend. Saturday, after work no less, I headed over to Amicie's for dinner, and then a great throng of us travelled to Elevate - "The best nightclub in India", no less (although I have my reservations) - for a rather good night of dancing and drinking, especially as Romain and Leah and their myriad of friends-of-friends assured free drinks and VIP access all night. But the usual trade-off (having to formulate a story idea about a sodding product launch or an excuse to give the PR company that got me the invite) was, refreshingly, absent. VH1 were there too, to find someone who could "dance like that" and "make the woman your match" - dance a la Shakira. Unfortunately, my best salsa moves and Venezuelan pout cut no ice with the judges. But its my BIRTHDAY!

Sunday, predictably, began with a nice lie-in, before a spot of brunch and opening my two cards - restoring a little bit of traditionality in such an alien birthday environment. Molly and I then headed off to a VERY European afternoon tea/extended lunch party containing only 2 Americans, one Brit and swathes of French, Italian, Spanish and German people. In a slightly hungover state, I kept my "Oh ya, I speak German pretty good, and Oh ya bits and pieces of French and Spanish". I was the quiet, ignorant Brit for the afternoon.

Then we had a dinner party. Bring your own food led to a fantastic array of culinary delights, and it was great to be around the 10 or so people that I feel close to here. A few friends were out of town, but it was fun nonetheless.

Back in the office the fun continues. Fortune Editor (I said Forbes last time, pardon me) Sherri is becoming an increasingly valuable resource to have around, and we are all learning so much from her presence and lectures. I'm starting to realise the potential that lies in this career, and, I think, the fun I will have in it. We shall see.

Today is actually a holiday in North India, but thanks to the MRC special issue we were not allowed to take the day off. That's not as bad as it seemed at first - the roads were empty, the bloody annoying marketing department that shout and scream into their phones all day are mowing the lawn or whatever they do on their days off, and best, we can 'redeem' this day when we want. So Ill take a Saturday off soon and go for a jolly into the country.

Back to the copy...

Cheers

So, do you look for Experience or a Journo Degree?

2007-03-23T00:41:00.000-07:00

"I would definately say experience."

There you go! The deputy editor of Forbes International says she would most certianly overlook a journalism degree in favour of experience. So the ball is rolling.

Its lunchtime in the first of our 5 training sessions from Ms Forbes, and they are going pretty well. She's well-travelled, seriously loaded with experience, and knows lots and lots about what she is talking about. Its crazy really how these things are available to BW now, when I'm here. Some of the guys here have never been trained before in their entire careers.

Tuesday and Wednesday were horrific. I was given two stories on Tuesday afternoon that needed serious re-working. One needed to be chopped from 2400 words to 1200, and the other just wasn't working how it stood. So, through the night i worked, and they came out pretty well. At least I thought so. The first, on SME financing was well-recieved by both the editor and the reporter. The second, on Japanese consumer electronic firms re-entering India, was also met well by the editor, but the reporter HATED it. Naturally; I'd sliced her hard work in half. So wednesday brought numerous workings, reworkings, and finally she called the editor and got it extended to 3 pages. That means an entire new layout, and a lot more rewriting. I left the office at 4.15AM. Nightmare. But, I have a book review in this issue - so at least i get a byline!

Yesterday, however, was bliss. Two pages, no effort, no worries. After work I met up with friends to see the Oxford University Big Band, who were pretty good really, but not a patch on Joe G and the AC Jazz Band. So that was nice and cultured, and good prep. for descending into Delhi materialistic hell at the Chivas Royal (a brand of Whiskey) FTV (Fashion Television - a channel for models and, in India, soft porn for nightclubs) Fashion Week Party. Not too bad really, you cant knock free food and drink and lots of cameras and journalists - but then again I had to be in the office at 10.30 this morning for these meetings.

And 10.30 again tommorow. My head hurts at the thought, and the invites for tonight are stacking up. It's tough being a journalist in Delhi, and Fashion Week just makes it so much harder! Right. I'm off to go meet a source for a potential story.

Cheers

Hob-nobbing

2007-03-18T22:59:00.000-07:00

I have 3 months left in India, isn't that crazy? Where did it all go...? My still white-boy complexion doesn't pay testament to 9 months on the sub-continent, for sure, but hopefully two weeks in Goa will put paid to that.

This week in the office (probably the culprit behind the white skin) we are treated to a special issue, a consumer-satisfaction survey. I hate special issues. BW 500s, The Best Business to be In, Youth Surveys, et al, to us on the desk all mean nothing. They are just pages and pages and pages of numbers that all have to be checked and checked again with a fine-toothed comb, and then pages of analysis that always come in late, photographs that are shot hours before press... Work, lots of work. This week I'm blessed with 15.5 pages. That's 1 letters page, 2 4-page stories and 6.5 pages of tables. Sodding tables.

Friday's lunch with Jehangir went well. After my dangerously watery salad that left me eyeing the Immodium in my wallet, I stumped for the Fish and Chips, which turned out to be a great choice. As was, it quickly emerged, Christmas in Hong Kong, as it gave the ex-China correspondent for the Washington Post and I lots to talk about. The bottomline is that if I am in London next summer, the chances of me stringing for BW are pretty high. Which is good.

Friday evening's BBC launch party (they've just revamped their Delhi bureau, which now controls all the news in Asia (minus China), was incredibly wierd. Having been stood up by the Media and Entertainment Editor, and with no time to crash-call Amicie, Molly or Leah, I walked into the party a total loner. After wandering aimlessly for a few minutes, a woman approaches me.

"Hi, I'm Helen Boaden," - Rar rar home-counties accent... so I follow suit
"Nice to meet you, my name is Henry Foy, I write for Businessworld here in Delhi"
"Ah, a journalist! Well welcome to my party, I'm director of News for the BBC"
"Oh, wow.. um I mean, great..." - WHAT ARE YOU DOING HENRY!
"All news, Online, TV, Radio, that's what I look after. I'm in London most of the time, but its great to come to India"

The conversation progresses, thankfully, and I lose the nerves, until...

"Do you think you could give me some career advice?" - fuck it, i thought. Its not like you get to ask this kind of person that kind of question everyday.

"Sure". So her take on it was that I should simply do what I feel most comfortable with, what I have my heart set on. The BBC, she said, takes most of its employees from newspapers, thus being 'fresh-out-uni' means nothing to them. You need experience and status. "Look, take my email address and let me know how you get on". BINGO!

She moves on (a PA at her elbow leading her away from the scummy journalist towards some TV channel owner or something) and a BBC employee sidles up. "Helen is rather high, you know, perhaps you should take my email instead and I pass messages on?". I take her ID, of course, but sod that. I also met Mark Tully, who is like God-like amongst the BBC, and the man in South-east Asia for decades. Afganistan, Tsunami, Kashmir, Pak Earthquake - you name it, that was him.

So that was rather good. This weekend is the fashion show, but with the Special Issue piling on the work and my brithday coming up on Sunday, Fashion Week might become Fashion run-in-run-out-write-as-much-as-you-can.

Cheers.

Hotting Up

2007-03-15T01:17:00.000-07:00

Oh, the serenity of the Thursday morning, following a hectic Wednesday. With only one page to sign off this afternoon, it is in direct contrast to yesterday nights 2AM japes with two stories getting re-written way past their press time. It's the desire of a new editor, apparently, needing to leave his mark on all and sundry. I wouldn't mind, but telling me at lunchtime on Monday is a little more appreciated and slightly easier to accomodate than making the call at 2330 on Wednesday. Explaining to the reporter in San Francisco who has just woken up that his story sucks and needs to be reworked in 30 minutes is not an enviable task. "But its really good, don't you think?"... "Well," I cautiously begin, "It has the right........ vibe, it's just... Look Hari, I didn't make the call. You've got 30 minutes, OK?"

I am starting to get very excited about travelling. Molly S, who stayed in Delhi for a bit and is now working for the socialist (opposition) party in Cambodia, invited me on Tuesday to travel out there for a fortnight and work alongside her as something of a spin doctor. Its electioneering time come the end of March, and she wanted someone with a strong grasp of witty english to accompany their entourage. Exciting as it seemed, expensive it also was, and getting time off work fresh from what was 3 weeks of paid holiday, is a little difficult.

And so, with the arrival of Sarah, Henry, Milly and Merel a mere two months away, I'm eagerly planning travel ideas and places that I want to visit. We have 2 weeks 'up north', followed by a week in Goa, and then a week in Mumbai. That is, of course, banking on the rough assumption that Karan and Yu can sort out the confusion over Mumbai. Its funny, with 6 months of Indian experience under my belt, the dis-organisation and confusion surrounding 'The Reunion' brings only a shrug to me - the same 8 months ago would have caused sull body meltdown.

Although I know it will be so intolerably hot, along with the mad dogs, I hope our 5-some of Englishmen (and women, and technically a Dutch girl as well) will brave the blood-boiling temperatures to see such delights as Amritsar, the Indo-Pak border (where the rival soldiers hold nightly taunting matches and "Come ON! You want some?" shouting matches), Jaisalmeer and its desert camel rides, Udaipor and its lake, possibly Ladakh and the Himalayas... Equipped with the Indian Railway website and a copy of the Lonely Planet India, nothing can stop me. Except - as I am constantly reminded by everyone in the office that hears off my, apparently highly-amusing, plan to travel in late May-June - dehydration and sunstroke. "It's so hot your skin just falls off, yaaar. Shit, you'll just die yaaar". Bunch of wimps. I'm from the Isle of Man, don't they know?

Frantic calls in the office at the moment. A well-loved member of the Delhi press circles was run over by a Delhi bus on Tuesday. She was rushed to hospital, has had one leg amputated, the other is touch-and-go, and she needs blood. Incredibly scary, and confirm all my fears over those lumbering machines of death that lurch and grind through Delhi's dangerously busy streets. Not nice.

Heading off to the Delhi Fashion Week next Wednesday. I convinced the new Editor that someone should go as Fashion is an "Important industry for such a culturally and creatively diverse country as India", and he signed the accreditation form. So off Ill go to swan around and make disparaging - and totally uneducated - comments on nice clothes while I wear such disasters as a blue pinstripe blazer. Can't wait.

Tonight it is Hindi at 7.15, then probably the weekly jaunt to Urban to double-kiss all my lovely white half-friends. Lunch with Jehangir tommorow to discuss 'the strategy for the desk', followed by the intolerable edit meeting. Last week I attempted to find the number of different combinations in Noughts and Crosses that there can be a draw, while the 'executive team' discussed the pros and cons of a Dividend Tax hike, or something like that. For your information, there are shit-loads. Of combinations, and pros and cons, it emerged.

And the weather, it seems, has steadied itself. Sun, sun and more sun is the order of the day. For the next 200 days, also.

Cheers.

Wet Wet Wet

2007-03-11T23:53:00.000-07:00

Hello.

Delhi's weather is fluctuating more than the Sensex at the moment. We've had brilliant sunshine, stifling humidity and thunderstorms in the last 48 hours, and now its raining. Really really hard. Think Castletown AstroTurf from November to March, or St Donats from September to May. However, at least Britain's drainage systems work, most of the time. Delhi's do not, thus within a few hours of the downpour, three lane roads are reduced to two, and pavements become rivers. Still, with my RYA membership card and PADI diving certification in my wallet, I felt safe enough to throw myself over raging torrents on the way to work, and even followed some local initiative by using parked motorbikes to negotiate the trickier sections. I just hope that when the rain stops (according to the weatherman, on Wednesday), all of Delhi's roads won't have washed away - as is the norm in Monsoon season.

Anyway, back while it was 33 degrees, I had a good weekend. Thursday, after the Cover story finally went to press, delayed as it was by the continuing Global stockmarket correction, I headed over to Urban for the first time in a month and reinvigorated my pseudo-friendships with most of Delhi's expats. The night then moved on to Agni (that's Hindi for 'fire', don't you know) and then bed. A fun night.

Friday brought frustrations in the office. The new Editor, Jehangir, had promised to take the desk out for lunch, to 'get to know us all'. So we all rolled in around 12, only to find that he had stood us up. He was in Mumbai, thus we sat around on our hands until 3, when the edit meeting started. Jehangir was there, in Mumbai, trying desperately hard to impose himself on the proceedings. "Right, I think we need to do a story on how Ego effects acquisitions, lets look at Ratan (Tata) and Mukesh (Ambani), maybe how Anil (Ambani) wants to be the biggest, are these guys just buying stuff to grow, rather than make money?". "Er, Jehangir," pipes up Bonny, "We did that story about 4 months ago". And so the meeting continued, ideas from Jehangir, crushing responses from the rest of the team. Even I got in on the act. "Surely then," he probed with his Indian-American drawl, which might have worked at the Washington Post but cuts no ice here, "Kochin (India's only private airport so far, and soon to be sold off as part of a global group) is the start of a global trend". "I don't think so Jehangir, for example Ferrovial started the moves in Europe a while ago, and bought BAA 6 months ago. Private airports are pretty old news." As far as responses to his affections went, mine was a relatively nice one. "It's been done", "We've covered it" - they began - and continued to "2 years ago", and once was simply "21 October 2005". Needless to say, the team aren't taking to him.

The reasons aren't all that complicated. He's basically our Shanghai stringer, and has jumped many many levels to sit where he does now. He's a reporter at heart, not an editor, or (as Tony really excelled himself as) a strategist. Name an Indian deal, trend, buzzword or businessman, and Pro or Bonny reel off the details. Jehangir is out of the loop. But he has good ideas, but bad execution of them. Direct quote from him - "The Economist is perfect. Everything they do is right." - and he wants to make us the Economist of India. He even wants a spread of news snippets al a The Economist to become a feature of the magazine. Its a little too much too fast for one of India's most conservative publications. As far as I'm concerned, he's only going to be my boss for the next 2 months, a fact that some other members of the team look upon with envy.

Saturday - officially the hottest day since September, and brought me right back to those days of sweaty brows and cursing the air conditioning's failings - began early, with a call to the US about a story from San Fransisco, and ended with major headaches (one book review, one award ceremony script and two story rewrites in my in-tray) but was interrupted by lunch with Sukanya, who has just got back from the Middle East - which was enjoyable. I spent Saturday evening in CP, firstly having a drink with Nishta, from work, and then sitting in Delhi's very own Central Park with a copy of India Today - think TIME but with head-shaking. CP is a strange old place. It's decrepit, badly in need of pedestrianising, contains all the high-street stores one avoids back in the UK and has possibly the busiest McDonalds's that i have EVER visited. I queued for 10 minutes the other day just to use their restrooms. It is full of hawkers and litter is a big problem. Yet Delhi loves it. Families dress up to sit in the park (which is basically a semi-landscaped roundabout) and have their pictures taken with the Metro station entrances. There are so many beautiful places in this city, so much culture and history, places to sit, to walk around, to admire. Yet this hastily constructed (and unfinished) British traffic junction, populated by beggars in the day and prostitutes at night, smelling of traffic fumes and devoid of any beauty, is lauded by all. Now you may ask why, if i hate it so much, did I spend an evening there? Well, having had a drink at around 8.30, and waiting for a party to start at 10 in the Park Hotel (just off CP), i had an hour or so to kill. So there.

The party was amusing. I committed the biggest party sin of them all by chatting to someone i didn't know before checking with Romain (who invited me) who the birthday girl was. As luck ALWAYS has it, she was there in front of me asking if I was there as part of the NYU crowd. "Oh, no," i said, "I'm here for the birthday party". "My birthday party????," she asks. My brain goes into search mode - what was that name Amicie told me.... "Oh, Meena, i didn't recognise you! How are you?". "Neema," she says. Oops. I told all the friends I had invited to say they were NYU kids. Safer that way.

And tonight is the Munjal wedding - which means I definitely cant forget whose party it is. Better get those stories re-written.

Cheers.

Up To Speed

2007-03-06T22:18:00.000-08:00

Hello

Greetings from sunny Delhi, thankfully out of its little cold snap and currently appreciating 30 degrees of heat above zero. It isn't as sunny as Zermatt, I must add, but if I shut my eyes, block out the offensive smells and plug my ears..... Alright, so it isn't that easy.

Thursday felt like the longest day of my life. Joe and I travelled back to London on Wednesday evening, and said our goodbyes on the trusty No. 36 from Victoria-Paddington, only for me to begin my repacking and discover his set of x-rays in my suitcase. Bollocks. So it was back to Paddington, back on the bus (this time to Kings Cross), and another "see you later mate". By the time I had repacked all my stuff for India and sorted through my skiing gear, it was about 1.15AM. An hour and fifteen minutes of sleep later, I'm on the N5 to Leicester Square, and then the N-I would be able to see the number but it's 3 AM and i couldn't give a shit because the word HEATHROW is next to it.

4.10AM I roll up the escalators into the fluorescent brilliance of Terminal 2 (Which I thought was only used for flights to Timbuktu and Botswana) check-in - "I'm sorry sir, your ticket is only valid to Vienna, not onwards to Delhi". "Oh, is that so....CHECK AGAIN THEN" - and shuffle through the "Any liquids, sir? Any baby-food, sir?" to Departures.

Now, for those of you who haven't had the joy of visiting Vienna International, their non-Schengen terminal (i.e for all flights out of Central Europe) is impratically small, cramming 8 gates in a circle with diameter of around 50 metres. Oh, and there is a bloody big sculpture in the middle. Yep, chaos. Two hours of attempting to read a German newspaper and a tub of Pringles later, I'm through into the lounge, and at 11.30 board the Austrian Airways 777 to Delhi.

00.00AM (Friday). Arrive in Delhi. You know you are in India when a 300 person flight lands and they have one 60 man bus. Great. Thanks to my seat in row 4578, I'm on the last of the 5 bus shuttles. thankfully, this meant customs was a little quicker than usual, and that my bag was waiting for me. A few arguments at the taxi-booth and a 50 minute ride later, I'm home. 2.20AM - forget the time difference, and that is 24 hours of travel. Yum.

Friday was a strange day. The office was deserted, due to the hour-stretching Budget issue which went to press the day before. But, come 3.30PM, the weekly edit meeting occurred and I met my new boss for the first time. Jehangir, our new Editor and formerly of the Washington Post, then spent 3 hours (the meeting typically lasts 1 and a half) letting everyone know who was boss. but I don't begrudge him, the daggers were certainly out, and a cry of 'The king is dead, long live the king" was uttered not.

To put my oar in, and purely just to let non-Indians know, this year's Budget was a bit of a let-down. The FM, a Mr Chidarandaram, is basically the golden boy of the economic upsurge, and God does he know it. His 2007 offering is comparable to Roger Federer attempting to play with his hands tied together and his eyes shut to prove just how good he is. In short, the FM messed up. No corporate tax breaks, no sops for emerging industry, some educational promises to please the NGOs and some farming reforms for 'internal India', but little else in the way of improvement. Many can't see him sticking around much longer.

Friday night I semi-moved-in to Molly and Leah's for a bit. The Basement is getting me down. It has a big rising damp problem, and if the same thing is happening to my body as is happening to my books and clothes, sleeping there is not a good health idea at all. So, until Ian's flat becomes available, I'm bunking up a few minutes down the road at Siri Fort.

Saturday was Chota Holi (like "little Holi", or "Holi Eve") and basically gave everyone two days to have fun rather than just the one. I did a couple of hours in the office to clear some stuff, and then headed over to the American Embassy where a football tournament was taking place. (Molly was involved, and it was a nice day. I spent most of the time reading the Economist...). The Americans have this little group that play Ultimate Frisbee every Saturday afternoon in one of Delhi's parks, and so Molly and I accepted their invitation to join. Note to all readers - no matter how cool you think it might look, playing Frisbee in a shirt, jeans and non-sports shoes is a VERY bad idea.

So Sunday was Holi, the festival of Spring, celebrated only in North India (because in South India it's so bloody hot that the distinction between Winter and Spring is negligible). It involves running around throwing powder paint all over one another, or as some in the office describe it "A chance for all the men to rub stuff on women in areas they cant touch 364 days of the year". Nowadays, unfortunately like many of India's raucous festivals, it has become an excuse to get mashed on either alcohol or Bangh Lassis, a milk drink made from Hash that hits you like a train, apparently. Either way, driving round Delhi soaking up the day, i saw many many blood red people staggering around looking like extras from 'Dawn of the Dead'.

Monday, and its back into the swing of things. Copy, edit, copy release, commas, scribbles and dictionaries. A far cry from whizzing down pure white Swiss slopes. Only 2.5 months of work to go though, i guess. the formwise was in a mess, stories coming, stories going. It's dropped, its in, its dropped, its late. It was Ian's birthday, so i left the chaos and did some (rather unsuccessful) shopping. I also met a girl who was staying with relatives of Indira. she was a Canadian-born Indian, and had lived all of her 18 years in Edmonton. What was interesting about her, however, was that she HATED India. At first, this 'other view' was humorous, as he highlighted things that I had never considered bad. But soon it became tiresome, and bordered on racist. More and more I was defending HER country, and it made me realise just how much I love this place.

Tuesday brought some good news. Cover story, for me, again. Fresh off the back of my last cover "Why We Are Different", which was the issue just before I left, I've got my first one back, on the stock-market crashes. The only problem is that all the data is real-time. If the markets perk up today (Wed), or tomorrow, the line of the story will change. Basically, it's what we call "organic copy", which is - in short - a bloody nightmare. As I write this (between phone calls and meetings with the design team), the story has changed once more, from a 5+1+1, to a 6+2+2+1+possible 1. Naturally, the design and photo guys need to know what is going on. Unfortunately, no-one does. Still, its on tomorrow's form, but I expect tonight to be another late one. So it is back to the phone calls, begging for something from reporters who, to their credit, are sat scratching their heads as the markets fluctuate.

Cheers.

What a Palava

2007-02-28T07:29:00.000-08:00

Hello

Hmm, where to begin. Well, im fine. At least, almost fine - but certainly a lot better than i was. Let me get back to Delhi and sit and write a stupidly long-so-that-it-is-impossible-to-read-in-one-go post about London, AC and Ski-ing, but for now, the news is:

I had a great time

I got really ill on the penultimate day of skiing and the two doctors on the trip pronounced me unfit to fly.

I rested at Joes for a few days - and got better

I am flying back to the City of Djinns on thursday morning from london, arriving rather late on Thursday night.

There you go. Sorry for the non-communication, i have been somewhat incapable etc etc. Rest assured, once im back at my desk with loads of work to do, ill be emailing like there's no tommorow.

Take Care

Cheers.

Homeward Bound

2007-02-07T05:28:00.000-08:00

Hello

A sense of relief prevails. Its 1900, somehow i have cleared the pages for this week (although i feel that Alokesh has helped me out somewhat by reading my colours first), and when i finish this post, i will be free from work for two weeks... and mentally on that aeroplane.

It seems that the God of Delhi's weather (I lose track which god does what) read my previous post about the changing climate, and slotted in a nice British-esque cloudy miserable day today after a week of climbing temperatures. It was nice, although i felt a little caught out in only my shirt to keep me warm in the rickshaw as we sped past angry looking homeless people peeking out into the cold from behind shawls and jackets.

And now I hear that heavy snow is predicted for tommorow morning on London. Fingers crossed they dont do something stupid like shut down Heathrow. That would be bad.

I had a lovely meal last night with Shehnaz and the family, and picked up my washing this morning. All i have to do now is do a spot of ironing, meet some friends for a quick farewell drink and set my alarm for the morning. Excited. Very.

Oh yes, one last thing - you may have noticed (unless you read this on Facebook, which sort of defeats the object) that my site now has google ads on it. Im not really supposed to encourage this or anything, but the more times you click on one, the richer i get. Or something like that. The richer Google's shareholders get, more like.

See some of you very soon.

Cheers.

See some of you soon.

An Edgy City

2007-02-06T00:13:00.000-08:00

Hello

This week has crawled along. Perhaps it was because i was very low on funds and had a quiet weekend, or the impending journey back to the motherland that is now only hours away. I was really happy with the way that the Cover Story went off, the old nerves were jangling somewhat - leaving the office was a little difficult "oh wait a second ill just check that" and "did someone cross reference the... oh ill do it just to make sure".

The French party was enjoyable, i was pretty dead on my feet upon arrival, but saw some good friends that have been away from Delhi for a bit and took a large amount of amusement from an Indian who was trying his utmost to sound like he lived in London. It was excruciating - and appalingly bad. I finished the conversation with "Well I dont really live in London, actually".

Thursday night was another Hindi lesson - and i feel that im getting rather good really. Certianly better off after 6 lessons of Hindi than 2 years of Spanish. It might help me out trying to get a coffee in Leicester Square. I know all the pronous, all the post-positions, all the question words, most numbers, and lots of useful phrases that encompass "I am hungry" and "Where the hell do you think you are going (driving)".

Friday i met with my friend Rachel for a quick drink as she was heading off to Bangalore for a fortnight, and then headed over to Molly and Mollys to watch a Hindi movie. It was 'Rang De Basanti", starring Aamir Khan (of Lagaan fame) - my favourite hindi superstar - and is the first Hindi film to (almost) let go of the songs, stupid love stories and family disputes that dominate the genre. In this one, a bunch of uni kids get in touch with their roots and rebel against the state like their forefathers did against the Brits. Rather good, for a Hindi movie attempt. I have bought it, along with Don (which is stil the BEST hindi movie ever), to take home.

Saturday was bliss. A few hours at work preparing for the next issue, and then home - around 4PM - with nothing, absolutely nothing, to do. I tidied up, began packing my suitcase, arranging for my clothes to be washed, washed some underwear and settled into bed around 7PM with a book. I was asleep by 8 and had, probably, the longest sleep since september. Amazing.

Delhi is quite unsettled at the moment. The temperature has jumped about 8 degrees in the last fortnight, and as the air conditioning machines need at least 3 months notice, everyone is boiling throughout the city. "What is going to be like in March??" they cry - and with good reason. Add to that the hangover from the Republic Day celebrations (about 3,000 soldiers who were repositioned here for the event ar3e now just wandering around and standing on junctions complete in full fatigues, camouflage helmets and AK-47s) and the Tata-Corus hullabaloo that has got everyone talking, celebrating and sticking two fingers up to the Brits, and its all a bit crazier than usual.

The Economic Times ran with a quote above their masthead from the first (british) manager of Indian Rail who said way back in 1907 or something "the Indians are making steel to British Standards?? By Jove, ill eat every pound of steel that they manage to produce". A lot more diffuclt than eating ones hat, i would imagine. Their lead story was then "5 Pence for a Pound of Britain" and featured a shot of Oxford Street full of Indian monuments. "Is this just the beginning?" the article asked, "Even Tony Blair said that 'we should be scared of India', will the UK soon be Indianised?". What trollope. Just wait till Tesco come and destroy the entire indian retail sector. Then we will see just how Scared of India the UK is.

Its all a bit wierd, really. The whole Shilpa thing kicked it off, Tata made it stronger and now, with Anil Ambani doing all he can to stop Hutch being sold to Vodafone by crying "Swadeshi" (the nationalistic slogan used by both Gandhi in 1935 and again in the 1980s to stop economic liberalisation) and championing the idea of hid Reliance group picking upu the majority stake over the British mobile giant, Indo-British relations are looking a little shaky. Scared? Nah.

On the cusp of leaving, its been a rather strange 5 weeks since Hong Kong. I feel that i've been figuratively, if not technically (as my pay slip striking shows) promoted. In this month i've had my first major in depth story published, been recognised as a serial book reviewer (at least one a week) been given cover to handle, been given re-writes to do, written a 13-page deisgn special and a script for a BW event and been commissioned to write the script for the next one. Yet i still feel like im being treated like a kid. I mean, the more work im given, the better i feel. Its experience, and valuable at that. Yet with all this extra work, im not getting paid any more, nor have i been given an official title or whatever. this may sound very trivial and stupid as im so lucky to be here, and i know that, but with all this extra work, praise and congratulations, id like a little bit of respect. Some people here still treat me like the 18 year old intern. Which, if you look at my acheivements, im certainly not. I think its an Indian thing. In Delhi, especially, the suffocating social ladder and need to climb as high as possible in as short a time as possible leaves little time for others. Its a bit sad, really.

So, a meal tonight with Shehnaz and Anil, a big day tommorow and then off..

Cheers

A Touristy Weekend

2007-01-31T05:42:00.000-08:00

Hello,

So, as promised, here are some pictures from the weekend. It really was nice to have Friday off and do some Delhi sightseeing, do a bit of work on the Saturday, get a decent night sleep for once (having said that i was up at 5AM to catch the train to Agra) and then see wqhat is an incredibly stunning piece of architecture.

An elephant to kick off the day of sightseeing. the t-shirt is a by-product of crashing at Molly and Leah's house with a few people after a heavy night at Urban. (molly is at Earlham - and in an INCREDIBLY strange twist of events, she is very good friends with Martin Kariuki, who was my dorm mate for a year. UWC - its like a disease)

Humayans Tomb, built by a grieving widow for an ex-emperor of Delhi - or Nizamuddin, then a city by itself. Impressive, really. Full of French tourists. Zut Allors! and the model of the Taj. Spot the difference?

So then, on Sunday morning, Molly, Molly and I met at the station and boarded the 6.15 express to Agra, complete with breakfast and free water. (as an aside, Indian Railways - when the price is taken into account - kick National Rail out of the park. The trip there cost Rs 350 (4 quid), and was a two-hour airline seat jobbie. The way back (in a little cramped conditions, sleeper style, and taking about 3.5 hours) cost Rs 58. That's 70 pence. Imagine going from Paddington to Cardiff for 70 pence. Ok, rather large aside).

So then we are in Agra, where everyone works for one thing - THE TAJ! Rickshaw drivers, beggars, street-wallas, photographers, EVERYONE relies on that building for their living. And they are all in on the tourist-swindling. Our driver stopped 4 times to explain why we should pay a 'LEEETLE EXTRA MY FRIEND' to see Agras famous sewage works and the legendary shopping mall... or something like that. He even had a book full of 'western tourists' writing nice things about him. The handwriting was all the same. But then i am a cynic.

You have all these pre-conceptions about the Taj. You think that it will be a bit of a let down after all the glossy calendars, praise and reputation. You're wrong.

It is just amazing. Simply. We arrived around 9.30, were in awe until lunch, bribed the guard on the door to let us leave for 10 minutes, wolfed down some incredibly dodgy looking biryani and ran back inside to stay for the afternoon. My favourite bit was the noise inside. If you try to ignore the Nob Yobs (yes, they exist in India too, not just Cardiff) who wolf whistle and shout to hear their echo, the noise is like the inside of a seashell - jut on a HUGE scale. Its really quite mesmerising.

I rather like the converse in this picture. Very, um.... um......arty. NO?

Monday tuesday was so-so... i have confirmed all my dates of leave with my superiors (they were chuffed, NOT) and then today i was given the cover story so that made me very happy! That's sort of out the way now, with 4 hours to go, which is something of a record, and then i should be free to go! Party with the french at Amicie and Romains house tonight. Looking forward.

Looking forward I am too to seeing everyone back home. For some, it has been much too long.

Cheers.

And The Award Goes To...

2007-01-26T23:57:00.000-08:00

Hello

This post began life on Thursday, but quickly developed into a full-blown analysis of the Jade Goody vs the Indian Republic and so was consigned to Microsoft Word and may well find its way into INK sometime soon. I also sent a copy to the Spectator, but apparently Matthew D'Ancona is a little less nice than Boris Johnson. Joke. obviously. However, if anyone knows anyone who works for the Spectator (or any other decentish magazine, newspaper in London,) id love to get some details. trying to find a job there, and keep the old journalism career going over the summer.

Ok, so last time i posted i was settling back down into Delhi life after some BBC-ing. The last week or so has been pretty full-up (as ever). I was handed the Jury's views of the BW Design Awards on saturday 13th - i might have mentioned that last time - and spent that week making the 16 pages for the magazine, but then Friday (19th) brought some more fun fun fun news. With the magazine already gone to press, Bonny (Deputy Editor) handed me the script for the actual awards (on the saturday). "The agency wrote this. Its a piece of shit. You can do it better, ok. Neha needs it by 6 o'clock." And at that, my weekend disappeared.

Ok, i exxagerate. although i sat down with only 3 hours to write a script for a 2 hour award show, i was quite excited about getting my feet on the 'Entertainment Business' ladder. HJF today, Henry 'Richard Curtis' Foy tommorow. Maybe...

I got it to Neha at 6.30. An arguement ensued over my 30 minute delay - she works for Marketing, who we all consider to be a bunch of monkeys who cant write (and they consider us to be a bunch of similar monkeys that produce a magazine that would never sell if it wasnt for their PR genius) - and with that over and the script mailed to the MCs, Neha and i were a galvanised team. good job really, we spent roughly 22 of the next 30 hours together. the rest of Friday night was in the office, finalising speakers, guests and the award acceptance people. Its amazing how difficult it can be to convince someone to come and recieve an award for something. "Oh, but i live in Noida" they say. " I really cant see me getting to Delhi tommorow". (Noida-Delhi is like Greenwich-Picadilly Circus). By the end of it, around midnight, we had a full programme. Just.

Then, at 9 the next day, we were back in the office, surrounded by goodie bags, awards, numerous script copies and (it seemed) a million PR agency girls who all look EXACTLY the same. Errr, Aditi?? Sorry, Rohini, right, no> Ruhi? Oh sod it, can YOU just call Microsoft, find out WHO is coming to present that award.... etc etc

3 o clock we headed to the Shangri La, where the awards were being held. Chaos. the stage is being built, the posters havent arrived, product for display are arriving (seriously, one winner, Godrej and Boyce, had brought 5 fridges to display at the entrance, and were wheeling them around after me as i was trying track down the MCs... it was like the Pied Piper of MFI, leading this group of fridges...

we found the MCs, dragged their over-paid, celebrity-thinking arses to their hotel room and went through the script. The guy was INCREDIBLY camp, "oh darling darling, such a wonderful script, you wrote it? OH DARLING its just wonderful... " and the other, a pretty girl from some B-class bollywood flick, was illiterate. Neha, their PR couple and I were desperately trying to explain to her that potential was pronounced PO-TEN-SHALL, and not POTEN-TEEL. the day was getting better.

Somehow, in between dsahing home to get my suit and a pair of shoes and meeting the guests of honour while the hammering of putting the stage together was still continuing, the show began on time. I slumped backstage on a chair and downed my first vodka orange. By the interval, i;d had two and was sipping my first glass of wine (given to me by the editor for 'such a sterling job' when disaster struck). "Henry" he said in his booming voice, "Meet Xerxes Desai, former MD of Titan Industries for 17 years where he revolutionised Indian Design! And tongiht, he is our Lifetime Achievement award winner. " Shake shake, great, nice..... "And afterwards, Id like you to have a quick interview, that would be fine, right Xerxes?" "Oh yes, but i must rush, so only BW, OK?" I watched with horror. After little sleep and a day of drama and rushing around, the first vodka orange had hit me rather hard. Now, two down and one on its way, i couldnt think of anything worse than to conduct an interview with the 'Father of Indian Design'. Shit....

he turned out to be a great guy, a very kind, reserved and respectful man, very talented and obviosuly incredibly important in his field. On monday, trying to decipher my half-drunk half-just incredibly poor handwritten notes, the interview took shape, and was published on thursday on a full page. Chuffed.

This week was a little more chilled out. Only 10 pages to release, for one. But after the weekend, the GM of BW, a Mr Natrajan, asked me if i would like to help Neha (who is head of Marketind and Events) to run and organise the BW Most Respected Companies Award show in March. I couldnt say no, really... And, what is a real bonus is that as of now, its 50-50 as to whether it will be held in Delhi or Mumbai. Im hoping itll go on down south, which means a week in a 5 star in the city. fingers crossed. I quite enjoyed the whole event-management thing.

This week i also began my hindi Lessons. Leah, a good friend of mine who is 25 from the states has worked here for the WHO for 3 years. She studied hindi as part of her Brown uni degree and so knows it properly, including all the verb structures and silly things like that. So, she has a small group of ex-pats learning hindi at her place on a monday and thursday nights. And its great! So by the time i get back to the UK, i should at least have some grasp of another language, and not just yes, no, ok, forward, stop, dont rip me off, and "GK1, brother".

Thursday was Urban, as usual, after the hindi lesson and then Friday was Republic Day, where India celebrates writing its constitution. everything is shut, there is no alcohol served in the entire country and no-one goes out for fear of being caught in some aggresive nationalist parade. not much fun really. I went and did some touristing with Molly (Leah's flat mate and another friend of mine) and Molly (Molly's friend - confusing, huh). We saw Humayans tomb, this massive temple that a greiving widow built for her Emperor husband and it then went on to be a burial place for all the other Mughal leaders. Really, REALLY beautiful, and set right in the centre of Delhi's grime and dirt. Crazy really. Anyway, the chappie that built the Taj saw this first and it gave him the idea to build HIS beautiful building, and if that isnt a claim to fame, i dont know what is!

Might take the 6AM train to Agra tommorow with Molly and Molly to see the old Taj.... feel like i should having been here for 4 and a half months, and apparently the best time to see it is in the morning in winter... rather excited.

Last night i went over to Amicies to watch a movie and have dinner. Twas nice. shes going througha bit of a shit time - its really good for her having me look after her, and vice-versa. I think the social scene of Delhi just assumes we are married tho. But dont worry - she's french. Non, merci beacoup.

So, expect lots of lovely pictures of Humayans Tomb and possibly the Taj next post.

Cheers.

Back in the Groove

2007-01-15T05:04:00.000-08:00

Well hello again

Its been a long while really - what with Hong Kong, Rajasthan and busy work periods in between blogging was somewhat superseeded. However, only Melissa actually felt physical pain from my absence on the web - so this is for her..

To Dissy

Right - back in December... I left the office in a crazy state, with the 25th anniversary issue going to print that evening, with photocopies all around my desk, colours flying from the printer and psycho subs frantically running around trying to get pages signed off by the editors. Delhi airport wasnt much better. I honestly believe - like aunt trunchbull in matilda once said (in context) - that the workers there think that the airport would be a much better place is there were no travellers or aeroplanes taking off and landing. My flight turned out to be a mere 90 minutes late taking off - which for Air India is something of a record - (all those that hate BA with a passion, i can assure you that it isnt the world's worst national carrier) and it shook, bang, creaked its way to Hong Kong where, upon arriving, i felt infinitely better.

Hong Kong was absolutely incredible. I have never visited a place so buzzing and alive, yet functionable and uncluttered. Simply amazing. the buildings, the people, the atmosphere - and i vow to live there for a period of my life, definitely. It really was a great holiday. So many good memories - the lights on Xmas Eve with the fireworks, a day at Sha Tin racecourse where we saw just how crazy the chinese are for gambling - especially on horses, our trip up to the peak from where the whole of Hong Kong city and Kowloon are spread out below, a day on the south coast seeing the 'other side' of Hong Kong with small villages and sandy beaches, the day trip to China which was so eye-opening - yes, they will take over the world, go learn mandarin NOW! - a great day catching up the good times with Dis (sorry, YOU) the 1,000 buddhas, Mong Kok, amazing food, great shopping, crazy markets.... it was so full-on, so action packed and fast-paced...so Hong Kong.

I flew back to Delhi on the 31st, arriving at the airport around 9PM, which with shockingly slow immigration procedures and terrible roads (begging the question - what the f*ck am i doing here after HK) meant i got home around 11. I was, admittedly, super-tired and really not relishing any form of partying and so was a little shocked to see to my horror and HUGE tent erected over the driveway and gate of my building. a party. Pushing my way through the nicely dressed party-goers with my large suitcase and carrybag i recieved more than a few odd glances, but it wasnt until the host said "Excuse me, what are you doing here" that i replied, in a fatigued and worn out voice, "Oh I am sorry, but i live here". With the music deafening in my apartment and an apology-cum-invitation shortly following my arrival, i had little choice but to join in the festivities. Needless to say, i slept for the entirity of the 1st Jan, waking up at 4AM on 2nd starving and in a totally confused manner - what time is it, what day is it, should i be at work, what have i missed etc etc.

The next week at work saw my radio story finally published after weeks of rescheduling thanks to a glut of media articles (our Editor HATES media articles and so has a page restrcition per magazine) and my abscence in HK, and so by the time it finally got the nod, i was so sick and tired of the bloody thing that i allowed someone else to handle the copy and sign it off (which is normal procedure). thankfully, it came out really well, and many of the companies that i used emailed me with their thanks.

Then, on the thursday morning, Mum and Ian flew into Delhi for press conferences and launches whihc was great (strange to see Mum in HK and Delhi but not in IOM for probably another 6 months....), met up with them for dinner and then at the Bike launch on the friday - also managed to squeeze in a little advert - sorry 120 word article in BW - for HeroElectric/UMC - before dashing off to pack for the BBC

And then the afternoon brought the anticipated jolly to Rajasthan. We (sebastien, Adrien and I - the other guys from the talent agency) travelled up to Kota on the train, were met by the Line Producer and shown to our rooms in the Maharajas private residence-cum-hotel. Classy suites, river view, dining room straight out of Pride and Predjudice. Rather rather nice - i must thank the British TV viewer for their liscence fees. the only setback - on set at 6.45 the next morning.

In a semi-sleeping state we were shown to the make-up room still shivering from the close-to-zero temperatures outside (Rajastan is kind of like a desert, and so at night, especially in their winter, gets really really cold) to have our hair cut. What followed was a bloody massarce of my (albeit already shockingly bad indian) haircut, complete short back and sides but strangely left alone on top. That meant that with the help of hardcore professional gel, my hair could be parted, slicked back or pushed across depending on the scene, but now, with no such gel or desire to look like a 1920s british aristocrat, i look lieka complete moron walking around Delhi. the sacrifices i make....

Day 1 i was a civil servant in charge of a british military post - had to shout a lot, tell people what to do and plan the partition of certain states (all of this came as quite a shock, it turned out that the term 'extras' was rather misleading...there were no ACTUAL actors, we were doing the acting, speaking, dancing...

Day 2 i had off, as did most of the extras and so I went into Kotah with Sebastien, a german guy from Delhi, and Rose, a british girl who is wokring in Tamil Nadu and somehow heard about the programme. We went to a (totally devoid of) crocodile pond and a museum of Kotah, a rather ecclectic mix of dead tigers and family portraits, and out of principle, decided against paying the 50 rupees extra charge to visit the Foreigners-only special section. Described by the curator as "his private parts" that were barred for Indians because "those common people scratch things", i politely told him to keep his private parts to himself and that the 45 rupees extra for the normal museum atop the 5 rupees for indian visitors was ample, thank you.

the afternoon was spent in kotah itself, a city described by Lonely planet as "lacking the charm of most rajasthani cities thanks to its nuclear power plant and sprawling chemical factory that dominate the sunset skyline. Quite. It was a shithole, truly, more aggressive than Delhi and with less things to see than Swindon. But the three hotels in which we were all staying and filiming in each day were quite spectacular.

Day 3 the 4 guys were asked to dress in tuxedos, do some rar rar-ing and then run from our rooms in semi-dressed state... apparently the Maharajas employed a blind servant to walk the corridors at 3AM ringing a 'separation bell' which basically meant 'stop shagging your flousies and get back to your wives'. So we did.

Day 4 - the last day of shooting was the most fun by far. Dressed in 1940s suits, we were filmed in a billards room filled with stuffed animals (tigers, cheetahs etc...) playing billiards, smoking cigars and 'engaging in drunken behaviour' which basically meant laughing in horrifically upper-class manner, tkaing the piss out of indians in high voices and joking about 'how we wished we were back in london, save shooting the tigers'. Top quality fun. the evening was spent ni a ballroom scene, in which i was paired with a russian professional dancer who happened to be living in Kota who spent the entire time tut tutting my moves and avoiding my clumnsy feet. Im sure she has never, ever, danced with anyone so bad as I. Naturally, as she was the pro, we were maed to dance closest to the camera. Trrrrrific.

And so, it came to an end, a really great 5 days on holiday in kota....all the extras were either living in delhi or travelling around the country so i made a lot of friends who will be in Delhi some time or the other. The line director was perhaps the funniest person on set, a 50-something woman from Wiltshire, and i mean terribly terribly wiltshire who "usually did commercials - more money, you know" and could not cope working with indians who were, to be honest, couldnt tell a tux from a blouse and failed to see why shirts should be washed after a day of filming. "I mean, god, i just cant work here, i mean, god, its just SO difficult trying to get things sorted..they nod, they say 'yes madam', but we all know full well that theyve got no sodding idea what the FUCK im talking about". brilliant.

So i left kotah at 5AM the following day, stumbling back into the office around 11AM without first going home...but 6,000 rupees better off.

The weekend brought a surprise. I got an email from Rose (the brit extra) saying that her best mate - who is living in Delhi - was leaving town on the sunday, and as she was up north, was coming to visit her. Now id never heard of this Rachel (her friend), but that night, in a total stroke of compelte luck, met her. Hi, she said, im rachel. Hi, i said (having arranged with rose via email to go for a drink with her on the friday), im henry, and your picking rose lowe up from the airport tommorow morning. Wierd.

And that about brings us up to date. Rose stayed at mine last night (i say night, she left at 4AM to catch a train) as Rachel had left, and now im about to leave the office after the busiest monday ever. My journalism career took another boost on Friday when the editor asked me to handle the entire Businessworld-National Industry of Design Design Awards 2007 package - which means i was tasked with taking the judges comments on 15 winners and making 'sexy write-ups, thats why i want you do to it, henry, you write very good modern, succinct and edgy stuff'. Chuffed, naturally, i then fond out that 16 pages in the magazine were mine and mine only, and atop the 15 products, i had to write a double spread on the judges and and 500 word write up for the 'Designer of the Year'. Yeah - busy week. But now im a bloody EDITOR! He also told me that if i decided against uni, theyd love to have me here for as long as i liked. I think, however, that by May my love for Delhi will have run out before my love for BW....

Also beginning work on an article about a crazy company that has made stacks of money selling 'bar tending' courses - and got kids that had no work prospects jobs at 5-stars running the entire bar. exciting.

So there you go, one month in my life. I promise to keep this up-to-date from now on, and Dissy, I hope your insanity has subsided.

Love to you all.

Oh yeah, back in the UK from 8th - 16th Feb (at AC from 9th-11th, then off to switzerland on 17th) so if you any of you are around the london/bristol/Llantwit Major (ok, scrap that one) area and fancy learning some hindi or something, drop me a mail.

Cheers.

Last Lap before the Pits

2006-12-19T07:45:00.000-08:00

Boo.

Welcome to my crazy week. 162 pages - as of 2120 on tuesday... i think that is a frozen figure, 15 of which are all mine. Its rather bittersweet really, I mean (and the senior guys have mentioned this), Im pretty bloody lucky to be working on such a major project in my first, well months of working in this industry, and i fully appreciate that. We're digging through 25 years of issues, which basically chart the incredible expansion of the Indian economy. I know now, i think, more about India's economy than i do Britains. Isnt that wierd? I mean, in 13 years of UK education, i never learned one single thing about Finance Ministers, Monetary Policy etc etc... Its rather crazy. anyway, that is all rather exciting, but incredibly hard work. the guys here who have worked for BW for 10,15,20 years roll off facts on the spot (oh yeah, what about when VP Singh allowed FDI into the power sector, that was May 1987, right?) and i have to scrabble through archives, reading pages that were written before i was even born. Someone even came up with the idea of me writing a piece about how I had grown up in parallel with BW... it was binned when they realised i was 18, not 25. I told you they thought i was joking.

so i feel pretty wiped. In fact, the way this week is going, the best sleep im gonna get will be on the aeroplane to Hong Kong... and how much of a relief that will be. India is a fabulous place, but it sure does demand a hell of a lot to live here. Delhi, especially. Ive heard Mumbai is worse, however. I am, though, learning obscene amounts about working in a magazine - especially one FILLED with egos. I mean, there are people here who have covered India for 40-50 years. BW is THE top business mag here, and the top guys here are the top top guys in the business journalism field. and of course, they are all the best. So at 10 PM, after 12 hours of work, with tempers frayed, people management is the order of the day. "Yes, I totally appreciate that you have already designed the page at great personal time cost, but this Photo is perhaps the best shot of 4 future Finance ministers EVER shot, and its cost us a small fortune from Bloomberg, so could we please please please squidge it in somewhere". Which i obviously didnt say, because if i had, it would have prompted a 10 minute conversation about the word 'squidge' and its origins.

Someone described me as 'working in a goldfish bowl' in as much as all members of the office like to have a good look at me, like im soem social experiement. Can the white boy survive an office filled with Indian bureaucracy and social strata. Perhaps. Whatever the case, everyone loves to comment on whatever i do. Oh look, he's eating some channa, wow, Hey henry, how do you like Indian food?? I have been asked that question more times than i care to remember.

Talking of food, with only two bottle of water, a toaster and a loaf of bread in the flat ( i had the oven thing installed today - hopefully), i have been rescued by this issue (ironically). Due to the fact that we are working 12 hour + days, they have laid on tea at 9 PM and cars home. Jason just called me to see i f wanted to get some dinner at Urban. No thanks, i said, Im quite happy with my rotis, paneer tikka, dhal, dahi and rice. Superb. absolutely bloody brilliant. And it comes in a little Happy Meal style box, all nicely warm and yummy. Screw france, this really is the land of good food.

the flat is starting to become rather homely, i have a lady that comes to clean on a sunday afternoon and do my washing for 100 rupees a week (which is pretty good, actually - for both parties) and, like i said, i should be able to cook now (although i may just enjoy my BW dinners and start that after the new year), the hot water is totally sorted, i bought some air freshners, toilet roll, the usual household stuff. Feeling rather independent actually. Have totally given up on the electriciains fitting the remaining 4 lights and the fans, and the ac is still sitting like a big fat metal elephant on the floor, but until it gets SCORCHIO again, im not too fussed. Its...nice.

As cricket is such a big deal here, people actually approached me, as i had lost a relative or something, on sunday to offer their commisserations on the 'Second Death of English Cricket'. It was quite touching.

Rather happy that Dissy vetoed Goa for xmas. It seems that the traditional Jewish holiday destination is top of Osamas Father Christmas list - with 'burnt to the ground' in brackets - so probably not the safest spot for some xmas frolics. That wont stop the droves of Indian 20 somethings doing 'the Ibiza thing' though.

Have realised the utter stupidity of cycle rickshaws. Basically a trike with an elevated seat with canopy for passenger, these do short trips around colonies. whereas with AUTO rickshaws, you spend hours arguing with the stubborn bastard of a driver over 5 rupees, you jsut jump in the cycle ones, and pay at the other side. But here is where it becomes ludicrous. you see, you would only use them for short hops, say the equivalent of 10 rupees in an autorickshaw, or 2-3 kms. Now autorickshaws have a minimum of 15 rupees, but require shaking around in a small space, passively smoking whatever the driver has shoved in his rollie, and having to make conversation in broken english with a guy who wants british citizenship. So you think, why not, a nice airy, quiet trip in a cyclerickshaw. STUPID IDEA! It's about 1/10 the speed of an Auto, you feel the bumps more, and i always let him stop outside the gates of the colony (saving him a good 500 metres). Then when you get out and offer the guy a 10 rupee note, he looks at you with big indian eyes, sweat dripping from his brow, heart going full speed, panting away - "More biyar, more". Nope Nope, nope, sod off mate, that was like 1.5 kilometres, i mean 10 is good, right (here is the first moment of hesitation, and by now you are already beaten) - run away run away you think, but no - oh come on mate, a rickshaw would be 15, im not giving you any more..... more big eyes, panting breath.... ok, look heres another 5..... WHAT? you want more? oh get real... two steps away....then you think of his family, his mum, brother.... oh for gods sake, handing him another 10. So you just paid 25 rupees for a ride that took you 1.5 kms at walking pace, bumping all over the road, and one that stopped a good walk away from the house. Total rip-off. ride around like a Raj in an environmentally friendly bike carriage if you like, Im walking mate.

Or, buy an Ultra-Powered Eletric Vehicle.

Back to the copy. Goodnight

Cheers.

General Foy

2006-12-16T00:08:00.000-08:00

Hello there

So the wedding was fun, very noisy, colourful and busy. Some of the aspects of a traditionally british wedding were present (good food, dancing, bridesmaids) and some were not (Alcohol, Great-Uncle Jim dancing the salsa with second-cousin Gloria, a toast...). Still, great fun nonetheless!

Wednesday was busy as ever, as was Thursday, and so on thursday night i found myself at the weekly expat night at Urban, semi-asleep in the corner - not in the mood. But then, a bright light - in the form of Penelope, and australian lady, who happens to run Delhi's one and only 'Expat talent agency'. Re-sult. It turns out that the BBC are filming 'Days of the Raj' in Rajastan in Jan, and need a handful of british guys to play soldiers! So, the plan is that we all take the train to rajastan, stay 4 nights in a hotel for the shooting, all expenses paid by the Beeb (and, uh, your TV licenses). Dont worry, its only 18 quid a day. BUT, and heres the but, it is on 5th January, which means, fresh off the back of a week's leave in Hong Kong, i will work for a week, then head off again, missing an issue, only to leave again in Feb for a fortnight. Im not sure if it is possible. Obviosuly, a free holiday to Rajastan to film a BBC costume drama is not something that comes up every day, but then again neither is a years work with a top business magazine. Its a peculiar situation.

This week is the 25th anniversary issue, thus 95 pages of edit amongst around 9 people. I have 15 pages all by myself. Lucky Lucky. What it means in real terms is a 5 hour meeting on friday (yesterday), work all day today and on sunday, and late nights all week. My best sleep for the next 7 days may well be on the overnight flight to Hong Kong. Im hoping a sterling performance this week will enable me to embark on the BBC adventure.

Last ngiht was another fashion show, but with a twist : the portfolios on display were the graduating students from Delhi Fashion School. Very good, i can tell you. Lots of UWC-ers from Delhi are in town for the next few days, whcih promises to be fun (that's if i can get out of the office).

Cheers

Some Pictures...

2006-12-13T01:30:00.000-08:00

Hello

Wicked wednesday on the go again... but i've found time to put up some photos, realised the old blog was looking a bit textual - not enough visual elements to break up the copy, as we would say here in the industry!

So here are a select few that ive got stored on the office computer.

At the desk... pre-hair cut i may add. Indira in background. Horrific posture, empty pizza box and rolled-up sleeves suggest a wednesday night...

My front room....

...which is actually the same room as my bedrooom. The lighting is fabulous, dont you think?

And the wedding, in which i think that i look like Uncle Howard...no?

'Tis all for now

Cheers.

Home Sweet Home

2006-12-11T22:22:00.000-08:00

Well Hello

Well, things have settled down after a rather crazy 4-5 days... Its nice. So wednesday, it was all going well until the reporter decided to send a new copy at 2140, 20 mins before sign-off, and all hell broke loose. These reporters have absolutely NO IDEA about what we do. So next week, when its my story going to print, im going to be as annoying as possible. I left around midnight, and headed to a friends bday party, which was a bad idea, full as it was with architects and journalists. We're a boring bunch, i tell you. And a top tip, never ask a question so open as 'How is the Indian Architecture market at the moment'. Cue knife-like-stabbing-of-boredom-lecture.

Thursday was a blast. Work got wrapped up pretty early, so i headed back to Jasons and got a couple of hours sleep. I had been sent an invite to this cocktail fight-off event at Elevate (35th best club in the world, apparently) which i was rather excited about. So, with my nocturnal partner, Amicie, in tow, we trundled off to Noida, not really knowing what a Cocktail fight-off was. It was brilliant. Turns out all the glitterarty were there, and the judging panel included 8 celebs to taste the cocktails.. made by the 3 finalists with all the bottle juggling, ice throwing, glass smashing to a pumping soundtrack. Brilliant. 'Press' ensured we got great seats and a waiter, and in exchange i wrote some spangly but rather lame piece for Jim Beam (the sponsor) for 'In the News'. Low, i know.

So that was a rather late night. Friday brought the inevitably boring edit meeting, but a nice lunch with the guys and gals from the office. Im totally Indian-ised in the way of food now, give me some Channa, Paratha and Dahl over a pizza any day, and, touch wood, no repercussions!

The weekend was strange, involving moving all my stuff into the (nowhere near finished) basement. Jason's flat is great, its nice and roomy, a good area of GK, and i think he's going to quite miss me. In fact, he offered me no rent to stay... and as much as it would be cool, a place to my own is somewhat more tempting, even if it only has one light and some glass-less windows. So saturday and sunday were hands-on moving days, shifting my stuff, arranging the furniture that Shenhnaz and Anil didnt want anymore, ditching the stuff they had dumped down there and trying to convey to the Indian guys helping me that i needed some more lights, a water heater and some electricity... Complicate. But sorted it finally became, and all of a sudden, i was alone, with all my stuff, no noise, no people a locked door... a very very wierd experience. Sunday night was my first night there, and i woke with no running water, but feeling pretty cool.

Monday was super-stressy in the office, stories flying about, summons here and there, and it dragged on. Im rather looking forward to Hong Kong. But before that, next week is the 25th anniversary issue. that's 100 pages of edit. between 5 people. Got Verdomme. Met up with a Norweigian friend last night for coffee, it was here last night in Delhi... i met her at the Elevate cocktail thing where she was working, and it turns out she's a proper backpacker type, done the usual (bus crashes, money and passport stolen, dodgy hotels etc....). impressive stuff. Still, she thought getting a proper job and going for 8 month immersion was just as impressive. It's different, i guess. Then, i headed back to GK for a farewell meet-up for an american girl who's leaving today. Tried very hard to stay awake. Suceeded, just.

But then, wahey! The heater had been placed, and another light, and all of a sudden, the house was a home! This morning felt like the best shower of my life. Really - i think it was the relief, more than the actual experience. Just need to go and buy some stuff for the fridge now. I think cheese, beer and water will do. Some noodles in the cupboard perhaps?

Work for the week includes 2500 words on the Diamond Industry (could be quite hard ha ha) and a review of 'Advice for a young CEO' - a 'book' that is made up of letters from CEOs in reply to a 13 year old kid asking them 'What makes a good CEO'. So not really a book. In fact, not really worth reading at all. Tripe. utter tripe. The editor, when giving it to me, said "Feel free to pour some Acid". Having written a glowing piece for last week's book, and seeing as though calling this a 'book' is itself a difficult task, i think i will.

Proper indian wedding tonight. Deputy Editor and Special correspondent, tying the knot. Gonna be pretty special, apparently. Can't wait. Woop Woop, Rave up!

Cheers.

Monkey Business

2006-12-06T03:30:00.000-08:00

Hello

Its wednesday - but what kind of Wednesday? I hold my breath for an early finish.

Its been an eventful few days. Monday was a day where everything seemed to go wrong. I awoke to realise that i had left the window open in my room, thus I was literally freezing, and covered in mosquito bites. Thus for the rest of the day - and into tuesday - my face was constantly red and hot... i called it 'facial malaria'. Rest assured - its not. Id probably be dead by now.

Then work was banal, annoying, dreary and frustrating. Which, to be honest, makes it an exception to the usual. My radio copy came back to me, i redid it, it came back, i redid it.... when you have poured over the same 3,000 words for the past 3 weeks, its rather annoying to have to cut another 50, put some more in, cut some more, get another quote... Then both my interviews fell through, only for the CEO of the 2nd biggest network to call me when im in a rickshaw.. ER SORRY WHAT CAN YOU HEAR ME, SORRY YES CAN YOU CALL BACK SOON, 10 MINUTES. Nightmare. Then, upon arriving, i find that water is pouring off the roof of jason's apartment block, soaking the road. Guess who's fault that was. A) the family on the ground floor B) the elderly couple on the first floor C) the non-existant tenants on the second floor or D) the two single men who live on the roof. Er yeah. Jason left the water pump on (in india they pump water onto tanks on the roof, then let gravity pull it into the house) all day, and so the 200 gallon tank had filled up - and then some. the four balconies were now 4-inch deep paddling pools, and the walls of the house look like something from Waterworld. And then the landlord is shouting this stuff in Hindi, im worrying about the interview, Jason is on the phone asking what is going on... Not good.

Tuesday was a bit better, although on my way to the office (with a handful of bananas) i was attacked by a bloody monkey... i say attacked, the bastard jumped across me and was snarling and all, so i jumped a few feet backwards and, to the laughs of all the assembled indians, shuffled off quickly muttering unfder my breath.

But last night was great, i went for a beer and some food with a MUWCI grad who lives in delhi...she was cool, and so good to talk to a fellow UWC-er, about the differences btween AC and Mahindra, India, the world, Stuff,..... its so true that all UWC grads think the same. Really good fun.

Cheers.

The Monday Blues

2006-12-03T23:47:00.000-08:00

Hey

So it's Monday yet again, and another issue is up and running. This week my 'In Depth' story is on the rise of airport retail (tax-free) in India, thanks to government laws allowing it... substitute "airport retail" for any other industry and you have the basic line behind around 30 per cent of all BW's stories - but i guess that is why India is 'the land of opportunity'.

My stay with Jason will probably end on Tuesday night, such is the state of the basement, it needs a little more work and I will probably be living in it for a month before its completely done. Is rather roomy actually, feels kind of wierd to finally have my own house...seeing as though i've been 'away from home' for the last 30 months (give or take the odd month here and there) but have never lived totally by myself for any of it. Living with Jason was good fun, though.

Ended up sheikhing my booty at the UAE party (it was to celebrate 45 (maybe 35, or 55) years of their existence), full of good food, no alcohol and indian politicians... not bad. Called it a night after that. Saturday night Jason and I went to a party hosted by the American Embassy school, met some really cool people there, including some IB teachers, and the first people in Delhi who had actually heard of the UWC movement... so that was good.

Sunday was moving furniture day, and i spent a good 4 hours down in the basement sorting through junk and stuff, and clearing up the place. Unleased two cans of insect killer in around 90 seconds and almost passed out on the fumes...im hoping all the huge cockroaches that i noticed in every corner were intoxicated also. I fear that that war of attrition will be one i will be forced to concede. Here's hoping i'm wrong.

Meeting a friend tonight and possibly joiing up with some Delhi UWC grads from the Mahindra college later in the week. UWC gatherings are always great fun, so I'm looking forward to that.

Cheers.

Who Let The Dogs Out?

2006-12-01T01:23:00.000-08:00

Hello

So its been a rather strange week, what with living with Jason and all, and work passed by as if it was some strange dream. I cant quite remember the last 5 days in office, such was the ease with which the magazine was produced. V.Strange after the shenanigans of last week. I finished the first draft of the Radio piece and handed it over to the Media anchor - who is well known for scything through copy, leaving it barely recognisable afterwards - so i was a little apprehensive. The upshot was that i need to conduct a couple more interviews, and cover a few areas in a bit more depth, but overall it was good. She also, thankfully, allowed me to cut the text from 3 to 2 thousand words - rather than doing it herself - and allotted me 4 pages in next weeks magazine. Phew.

Jason is a bit of a batchelor, hence there is nothing in the fridge save beer, water and iced coffee, and only nuts and dried fruit in the cupboards...he eats out all the time. Thankfully, Kashif keeps inviting us to his club to test every dish on the new menu so the food is free - and i quietly sip my orange juice and ignore the hate-filled looks of the manager (who, naturally, doesnt share the owner's generous 'lets feed everyone for free' mentality'. But it looks like i'll be in my own place on Sunday...fingers crossed.

Bit of an adrenaline-filled encounter on tuesday night. I had gone for dinner at Amicie's with some friends and so was returning to the colony around half eleven. On the corner of Jason's block i saw these three stray dogs at the side of the street, two big (i was thinking mum and dad) and a little one. Naturally, i skirted them as wide as possible, but they were having none of it. Whether it was Paul Smith's Extreme or the beef stroganoff i had just consumed or simply the smell of fear - they were up for a snack, and my ankle was a la carte. And then, like a flash the dogs went from growling meance to mobilised eating machine. Fight or Flight? It's a no-brainer: I ran - fast. It was like something from a movie, me in my jeans, converse and jacket being chased by two dogs barking and snarling and coming closer and closer. When the first was around a foot away from my ankle, i turned and swung my leg at them, missing, but achieving the desired affect. they stopped and i began to walk backwards, looking straight at them. When i was as close to Jason's gate as i was to them, i turned and ran - and so did they, so as i slammed it shut, they jumped up, barking in my face. It was only then that i realised, at 1130PM in a residential colony, that i had been shouting 'F-off, F-off' for the last 30 seconds at a pair of dogs. Very grown-up and brave. Bastard things. I shudder at the thought of 8 rabies shots in a Delhi hospital. I hate dogs. Even the nice ones.

Have been invited to two parties este noche. One at the UAE embassy - sheikh sheikh sheikh, sheikh sheikh sheikh, shiekh your booty... - and then one at the Romanian embassy. The plan is then to head to yet another bday of yet another nightclub. We'll see. Its been a tiring week.

Happy 1st Day of Advent to you all, where ever you are. My calendar (thanks to mum) is proudly perched on my CPU, to the envy of all the office. Opening the first door was something of an event. Christianity 1 - Hinduism - 0. Having said that, Diwali kicks Christmas out of the park. I can't wait for Holi...

Cheers.

The Cold Sets In

2006-11-27T02:35:00.000-08:00

Hello

India, or Delhi, is now officially cold. It doesnt help that i only arrived with a pair of bermudas and a linen shirt. Now, I dont go anywhere without my scarf and am eyeing up every coat shop whilst staying determined to just wear multiple tshirts and pretend i'm living in the subcontinent. I have also realised the importance of carpet. This morning i came out of the shower and, walking to my room, my damp feet actually froze to the stone floor. Ok, so this may be exxagerated, but floors here are so bloody cold, and socks provide little respite. Plus, as it would only get 3 months of use, central heating is banned across india, by supreme court ruling. Central Heating and Beef. My two favourite things.

However, nightclubs and bars are warm, and so is the office, so i spend my time in either. I have the cover-story this week, and as it is about people using Mauritiuis as a tax haven to smuggle dodgy money into India, i feel my Ellan Vannin experience will put me in good stead. Bloody chuffed about getting the story though. Pay day is also fast approaching, and, as i only need to get through to the 22nd (b4 HK), this could be a good month.

The weekend was good fun, went to a couple of bar birthdays with Jason and assorted girlfriends of. Plus, strategically went for dinner with a friend at Urban thus Kashif let me again 'taste' the new menu and not pay for anything, thus giving me free grub and impressing my companion. Gordon Ramsay had better watch out, ill be in Claridges soon - tasting the pheasant souffle. Quite what they think i can suggest being a meat-and-spud eating brit that would only eat Fish Fingers and Waffles for 2 years of my childhood i dont know, but i have the knack of hmmming and nodding down to a T.

Sunday was top fun, i met up with Charu for our fortnightly catch-up and suggested going to see Don, the latest hindi blockbuster at the flicks. Was AMAZING. am now totally converted to Bollywood and a devout fan of Shahrukh Khan, who makes Tom Cruise look like a pansy boy with floppy hair and a stupid smile... wait one second....Do not fear, im not in love with 100 people dancing around a palace with their nose piercings attached to their big toe, this was an all-action Bollywood movie, equatable to James Bond. Brilliant; and the fact that i loved it even though it was all in Hindi is proof by itself. Will be buying the DVD tho to find out exactly what the killer lines where. and the final twist....pure magic. Tarantino would have been proud.

Have just finished Gandhiji's autobiography. Was good, he writes as well as he liberates states from colonial rule. Will go back to Mein Kampf now, which brings up surreal thoughts of 'If Gandhi took on Hitler' - an interesting concept seeing as though one was set about killing minorities, and the other saw success in the minorities simply accepting their punishment to alert the world to their suffering.... perhaps they would have been great mates...

Did some research, and according to Wikiquote, Gandhi said "I do not consider Hitler to be as bad as he is depicted. He is showing an ability that is amazing and seems to be gaining his victories without much bloodshed". Well. As i said, nice guy.

However, it gets more surreal: "Hitler killed five million [sic] Jews. It is the greatest crime of our time. But the Jews should have offered themselves to the butcher's knife. They should have thrown themselves into the sea from cliffs. It would have aroused the world and the people of Germany." Crazy. Perhaps non-violent protest and submission to rule doesnt apply in conditions of genocide. But didnt I tell you they'd complement each other.

It seems Hitler didnt respond to Gandhi's comments. Too busy, apparently.

Looking ahead, i have a telephone interview with another radio CEO at 1930, and will meet the Director of All India Radio (the BBC of India, but with lots more control, lots more public spending and lots more unfair help from the Gov.) tommorow morning. AIR is pretty cool tho, it's rather cult.

An office party, in the office, awaits. The place is buzzing, i tell you.

Cheers.

Sleeping Around

2006-11-23T21:36:00.000-08:00

Hello

Life continues to be full of surprises down here in Delhi - with one notable exception, that being the destruction of England's bowling attack by the Aussies. The Indians are getting a worse treatment down in South Africa as well, so there arent a lot of happy sports fans in the office.

Wednesday night brought another inredibly late bed-time, so late that i ended up sleeping in the office. It all stemmed from the fact that the writer of 6 of the 8 stories in the cover package (as she was leaving the organisation after this issue) had lifted huge chunks of text directly from company reports, internet articles, and - the worst sin - editorials from other publications. We found this out at exactly 9:45, 15 minutes before copy deadline. Needless to say, the magazine was delayed. We frantically began to search - using trusty google, obviously - all the articles and what we found was incredible. Some paras she hadnt even bothered to change at all.... the ultimat plagiarism, and enough to place the magazine in the line of serious court action. It was amazing how easy it was to track down - type in a 15 word sentence and google will find it... put me off essay stealing FOR LIFE! if any uni guys are reading this and are thinking of making their lives easier witha bit of copy-paste, dont do it. Its so bloody easy to expose.

So that was 6 stories that had to be re-written - hence stupidly late bed-time. I slept at around half four.

Thursday was rather comatose (expectedly) but we got the rest of the pages out.

Another little twist - we had to move out of the flat by tonight (friday) but although Anil's place is finished, the basement (my place) needs a few more days. So, im living the weekend in Jason's spare bedroom. this, i only realised last night, and so had to shift all my stuff over there. As i said, full of surprises. Will spend the weekend mostly sleeping and reading i think.

Headed over to Urban as Kashif was launching a new menu and wanted a group of us to try it out (in the VIP area, naturally). Managed to force a salad down before almost falling asleep on the table. Decided to call it a day.

And now, i face a day of redesign meetings. BW is getting a revamp, and so this weekend we are meeting the designer - some arty chick from New York. Cant think of anything worse, but Pro (editor) says im a lucky boy - most ppl spend 10 years in journalism before they see their first redesign. Lucky Lucky LUCKY! As mum would say.

Cheers.

Mira nam James he. James Bond

2006-11-21T04:44:00.000-08:00

Good Evening

Its a tuesday - cleverly disguised as a wednesday. Yes, its special-issue week, and thus my time off is reduced to zero...which is rather good considering the funds are a little low.

House-moving is progressing slowly - the Arora's belongings are actually tired of waiting themselves and have grown legs to walk the 3km to the new house. So, and this is - I must stress - only the latest update, I should be in my own place on thursday night. We have a new maid, though, but shes not much to write home about. No english, no smile, no realy desire to work...and a one-off joining fee of 5,000 rupees. Im seriously contemplating a change of career. I mean, what's cooking a few rotis and curries every day?

Home-time is currently split between writing the radio story and reading the large library that i seemed to have amassed through shopping, gifts, and friendship to the chief book-reviewer at work. I am currently reading (simutaneously) Mein Kampf and Ghandhiji's autobiography. Its truly an explosive mix. It makes me go to bed wanting to vote for the Liberal Democrats.

Watched Octopussy last night, which was rather strange, it being set in India and all. Understood some of the bad guys shouting at good old james though, which added a twist to the usual paper-thin 'stupid foreigner that grunts in syllables' stereotype.

I have a party tommorow night after work, that means arriving at about 2AM. Should be rip-roaring fun. Just like thursday morning will...

Cheers.

Red Handed

2006-11-18T03:00:00.000-08:00

Well Hello.

Saturday.

Serious drama in the Arora household. It seems that I had Puja the Maid totally worked out...and on Thursday she got her just desserts. Shehnaz lost her mobile phone on tuesday - sparking frantic searching and worrying. Then, on thursday, the neighbour's maid stopped Shehnaz in the street and asked her if she had lost anything. Blah Blah, well it turns out that Puja had stolen the phone, and in her infinite wisdom had given it to the maid next door to safekeep. Her only fault in this cunning plan was that the maid next door turned out to be Mother Teresa reincarnate, and promptly screwed Puja over: major style. Shehnax comes rushing in, screaming, shouting, cue tears and pleading from Puja. Anil and I sat in utter disbelief.... I mean, it makes no sense, shes getting paid to clean, she naturally steals the odd bob here and there - but to nick a mobile? I was utterly flabbergasted at her stupidity. She denied it, obviously, so we sent for the maid. Her, in her element, took on the role of chief prosecutor and totally ripped puja to shreds...a stunning summation. Puja still denied it "nahee didi nahee nahee" sob sob, but a few threats and fake calls by ANil to the police sorted that out. And then al the other stuff she'd nicked (that she hadnt sold) tumbled forth, silver cutlery, antique napkins, Chinese cash (?? - dont ask). And she knew she was totally up the creek... So shehnaz sent for the lady who acts as agent or something who (in a country where face and pride is v.v.important) was totally embarrased, and sought to get her - and puja - out as quick as possible. Silence ensued, and the catharsis began. Granny perhaps was the most hostile " that girl was pure evil, everything she touched, did, said....EVIL". Trite. It was like watching a movie...without subtitiles, annoyingly.

THEN, to add to the drama, Puja flees from the woman, stays the night in a Temple, goes to shehnaz's friend's house (from where the new maid is coming) and tells her that Shehnax beat her, never paid her, Anil 'looked at her with bad eyes'..etc... The new maid changed her mind, but to shehnazs total credit, she didnt get into a fight with either. With Puja shouting to shehnaz "you cant do anything to me", the police arrived a packed her off to custody. Crazy.

Went to a house party on thursday, got some great radio contacts and practised the old german with some nett personnen... and friday was an office goodbye to a departing colleague (he's left, not died) followed by some more media nightclubbing.

Which, it seems, was the perfect tonic to the Delhi Belly.

Cheers.

Glamour and Guns

2006-11-14T00:58:00.000-08:00

Hello.

Its Tuesday today, and the middle of a rather manic week at work, thanks to a special issue next week, thus double work for us until then.

Anil gets back from China tonight, and we still havent move house, so there's bound to be a wee bit of tension dans la maison, i shall return home late and go to bed early I think. Took Shehnaz out for a meal last night, which was nice.

Yesterday was a hectic one, and made me think that working as both editor and reporter might not be the most sensible of ideas. I arrived at the office to find that the annual FICCI Indian Radio Seminar had just begun - but they'd missed BW off the invite list. Incensed, our Media Editor made a few vicious phone calls (met with huge apology) and I was off, jumping in a rickshaw to the FICCI conference centre.

The forum was, predictably, excruciatingly boring but - i concede - rather important to my research, so I suppose I have realised the frustrating truth of reportage. I now know why these things invite Bollywood celebrities to make 10 minutes of impromptu speech and the sponsor with his logo all over it is in fact the Lunch Sponsor - its about all there is to look forward to. So, I stayed for the first two sessions, enjoyed the RADIO MIRCHI buffet and then headed back to the office, with a few business cards, obviously.

However, the flip-side of this industry was apparent on Sunday night, when I took Amicie to the Blender's Pride Fashion Tour, in the botanical gardens here in Delhi. Our top editor gave me the invite because 'it clashed with his opera ticket' and it was the sister event to the one i attended on Friday. This one was so much better. High security, a incredibly tight door policy, exclusive Media entrance (exactly what Business magazines are supposed to write about 6 foot tall skinny women in expensive clothing i have no idea) and priority seating... all thrown in with celebs, free bar and probably the best buffet i have had in India. The perfect way to end the week, excepting, perhaps, the headache in the office on Monday.

GK is still full of riot police, even though no rioting has actually occured during the last week. This morning i left for work a little earlier than usual and was treated to the sight of hundreds of army personnel in blue and green fatigues setting up their positions, blocking off roads.... really over the top stuff. I mean, they all have shields, a huge 5 foot long stick (a particular favourite with Delhi Police) and an automatic rifle last seen being wielded by Michael Caine in Zulu. How, I ask, with two hands, are they supposed to use all three at once? Surely they have read about Medieval battles, or at least seen Lord of The Rings and realised that giving the guys at the front the shields, the guys behind them the sticks and the chaps up high the guns? (read BOW AND ARROWS for analogy) And, what's more, this isn't Beijing in 1989; you cant just shoot rioters, especially not in 'The World's Biggest Democracy'. Today - and during my stay here and in Africa last summer - i realised just how much i hate guns. The sight of them makes me feel less safe, and if I was a pissed-off shopkeeper, the sight of a load of PC plods (and these are standard policemen with rifles, remember) menacingly playing with safety switches would make me more determined to give them a good fight... Needless to say, the rickshaw driver also felt a little jittery, speeding up whilst taking an extra-long drag on his spliff.... Delhi, dangerous? Safest city in the world, i tell you.

Cheers

I Predict a Riot

2006-11-10T23:35:00.000-08:00

Afternoon.

Delhi's in a right mess. Around 500,000 shops are being sealed, and so, what with all the policemen, sealing teams, media crews, bored bystanders and protesting shopkeepers, getting around is a nightmare. It just so happens that GK, where I stay, is right in the thick of it, and people are becoming more aggressive than the standard Delhi-style that i'm used to. Rickshaw drivers are demanding more for trips and the journey to work now takes at least 50 minutes, but alas, life goes on.

Wednesday was again a late one, but again seemingly error-free. Wrote another book review (I am becoming quite adept at blantant Amazon.co.uk plaigirism) but nothing special. Friday brought the first of many interviews for my Radio story. I met the CEO of Radio Mirchi, the leading private player, who was nice enough to take pity on my ignorance and explain how the whole damn industry works, which cleared up a few things, to say the least!

One of my Times of India friends, Boni, has a girl staying with her from London, Alamara. Met her yesterday after work. She's 19, staying in Mumbai, but her dad went to AC, she travelled around Tanzania last summer, she studied the IB at an internatioal school, parents are divorced...etc etc. Rather amusing the similarities but was great to be able to chat about so many similar things, as conversations with Indians normally result in my retelling of experiences and views on India. Oh yeah, and one of her very good (kenyan) friends is best mates with Jahawi. Small world.

So we went to a fashion show that i had an invite for, was OK, sponsored by Phillips so full of boring tech jargon to make you buy a fridge, lightbulbs blah blah, but some pretty cool designers, plus the typical assortment of bollywood B-stars and dance troupes... tonight brings another, this time sponsored by Seagrams Whisky. Which tastes like nail varnish.

Shifting is ensuing, which means that the flat is a total mess, grannie and the maid are even more highly strung, the kids are bouncing off the walls and Shehnaz is trying to hold it all together. Anil is in China. I frequent the flat as little as possible.

Interesting debate in the office today. Ashes sparked - who will the Indians support? I mean, the hate the English about as much as they hate the Pakistanis, but then again, EVERYONE hates the bloody Aussie gits, and what's more, Ricky Ponting pushed the BCCI (indian) chairman off the stage during last week's prize giving in Mumbai.

England, apparently, because they are all in love with Freddie.

Cheers.

Loaded

2006-11-07T04:09:00.000-08:00

Hello once again.

Wahey, finally got paid, my whopping salary of Rs 10,000 ($240) and the b'stards had the cheek to tax me 5.1%............its a hard life.

Was at an engagement ceremony last night, of Anil's niece. I spent the first hour totally confused by everything that was going on (i tell you, the grooms family wearing flowers on their lapel and the bride in white are really excellent ideas - i had NO idea who the lucky woman was, as everyone was kissing the groom...)

Lacking somewhat in the revellery that i associate with British weddings, the food was excellent and i managed to finally meet anil's sister and brother in law who run a small society magazine and used to run Times of India, very high-brow journalistic types who had lots of stuff to tell me, which was interesting. It was held at the new house, so the desire just to stay there afterwards was compelling. However, things are starting to move from the old flat, so total shift shouldnt be too long away.

Sunday was a great day, I spent the morning and early afternoon in the Hyde Park of Delhi, Lodhi Gardens and wrote interview questions and did yet more research. The gardens are beautful, complete with temples. (see pic)

The one problem with parks in India is that they are the one place where couples can go for a bit of privacy - a public place. So it was full of middle-aged love birds trying to find their only little private corner. One thing, it made the radio industry figures look highly exciting.

That afternoon, i met up with Jason at a cultural expo thing for the eastern indian provinces. Was pretty fun, full of prancing dances and wah wah singing and great food. I particularly liked this dance below, in which the participants pretended to slash each other to pieces.

And then, to round off a pretty packed day, I met up with Charu and a friend of hers for coffee.

Today has been rather busy and frustrating, chasing slacker reporters, ergo rather half-hearted blog entry. Will sleep lots tonight, methinks.

Cheers.

Six Weeks On the Job

2006-11-02T01:25:00.000-08:00

Hello.

So, tommorow the sixth edition of BW will be released since I joined, and - without a printed mistake to my name as yet - I think I've settled in to my new role. However, Im still learning with every edit that I do, thus every day is still engaging.

In comparison to the weekend’s fun and frolics, the last few days have been relatively sedate. Tuesday brought my first visit to the British High Commission, for the book launch, in what is widely touted as one of the most beautiful buildings in Delhi, designed by a renowned Indian architect. The inner courtyard had been filled with mattresses and cushions (for lounging on) and candles everywhere – to ‘transport us back into the Mughal era’ – or something like that.

Obviously, being a member of the press, was stood at the back with all the other journos, straining our eyes in the candlelight to read the press releases thrust at us by the Penguin reps. It was a rather dull affair, thanks to the numerous intermissions brought by the ghazaal band and singer, which is that annoying music (read ear-destroying noise) that involves a whining string lead, small bongo drums and a woman wailing out never-ending Hindu syllables. The excerpts were good, however, and I actually wanted to buy the book on the way out. Good job that they told me they’d send a copy to the office. Oh the perks.

Work has been pretty busy this week once again, especially as I was given the unenviable task of handling the cover story (all 8 bloody pages of it) – plus my never-ending quest to unravel the secrets of the FM radio industry continues…

However, yesterday brought me some unexpected light relief from the BBC. In a totally random series of events, I read a story on bbc.co.uk on a survey that stated those in the west have more sex. Some comments had been left that this was total bollocks etc.., and so I thought I should counter these, with my experience of India thus far, and some results from our BW youth survey. I left my phone number and email address, but remember at the time that these were rather strange requests. Then, at about 10pm my time, a woman calls from the BBC World Service programme, ‘Have Your Say’ to ask if I would be willing to give my british perspective of India in their discussion on aforementioned survey. Thus, between 1915 and 1945 british time, I was Live, giving my views. Rather exciting really.

The move has still not begun, and I am getting more and more frustrated about not being alone yet… Kids have not been going to school for a week and are thus more and more annoying and excitable.

In other news, Delhi was a total nightmare to get around yesterday as shopkeepers from across the city were all on the streets protesting against the Supreme Court’s decision to recommence the sealing of shops (referenced here before) and so buses were smashed up and tyres slashed and set alight… But the SC were unmoved – which is not good at all, because these Indians sure do know how to protest – and they all love a good mass brawl.

Cheers.

An emotional journey

2006-10-30T22:57:00.000-08:00

Well hello.

Its Tuesday morning. Let me tell you about Sunday...

So on Saturday night i packed my bag for the match; suncream, insect repellent (it was a day-nighter), camera, jumper, etc, etc. I also set my alarm, for 6,30. I had arranged with two collegaues to get a lift with them to Mohali and back, about 4 and a half hours each way. Sunday morning I woke up, only to be called at around 7.30 to say that they had had a huge fight and were now not going... I was totally gutted and so pissed. Then, at around 9, they call me to say that theywanted to take me out for breakfast to say sorry. I got in their car, saw the match tickets and decided there and then that I was going to go, no matter what. So, without my carefully packed bag and with only 1,000 rupees, my sunglasses and mobile, i got on a bus for the 6 hour ride to Chandigargh. Ive travelled on long bus journeys with no level of comfort before, so wasn't too stressed over it.

I arrived in Mohali at about 3.30, so missed the first 15 overs of Indias innings but immediately realised that my DVT-infected legs were worth it, the stadium was incredible and the atmosphere was electric. My tickets were VVIP in the corporate section (some LG person got them for us). The only problem was, everyone thought i was Australian - no matter how much i cheered for every indian run! Towards the end of india's batting, i was starting to get really hacked off with the indians running up and waving V signs in my face everytime they hit a boundary and the affections of the not-so-straight indian sat to my left. So, at the interval with India on a modest 249 for 50 overs, I went to the loo with no intention of returning to those seats. Instead, i found the only group of Australians visible (2 guys and 2 girls from Sydney) and decided that as everyone thought i was supporting the boys in yellow anyway, i might as well. The second innings were fantastic as the Aussies tore through the indian bowlers and gave us 5 a great deal to shout about. However, what is talked of as India's passion for cricket basically means that they are compeltely over-exuberant and cannot stand the idea of India losing. thus, whenever the aussies scored a boundary, popcorn and other projectiles were thrown in our direction. Indians that were sat around us began to shout to condemn this behauviour, but to no avail. The fans were just so bloody immature and childish. Not that it ruined the match, it was just plain annoying...

So the aussies cruised to a victory with overs to spare and i was presented with my next problem - how am i going to get back. Colleagues of mine from BW were also here, and i got in contact with them, but they were on a reservation only train at 1 in the morning. however, i met up with them and they took me to the Bus station to arrange a seat for me. this all happened very very quickly, and within minutes, i was on the bus, with strict instructions not to talk to anyone, drink anything or eat anything offered to me. Just sleep they said.

So I sat on the last remaining seat and realised what Id just done. Now this bus was probably between 20-30 years old. It shook like a washing machine, and was packed. I instantly decided that sleep was not an option, unless everyone else on the bus (who were all staring at me, obviously) were also asleep. things could be worse, i thought. And then they became worse. The doors were opened, and on piled 20 more people, fresh from the match to stand in the aisle. I was on an aisle seat, and they wasted no time in striking up conversations. But their conversations were not friendly. Guys began to lean in very close and ask things in broken english. I had a plan to stay totally quiet and ignore them, in the hope that they would stop. this continued for 10 minutes or so, hindu jibes, laughing, pointing, shouting, asking questions (i dont know what they were saying, but from the facial expressions of the people sat near me, i know I probably dont want to know what they were saying). Then this guy leans right in, like nose to nose and begins the questions again. I put my hand between us. He stared at me for what seemed like an age and then moved slowly away. then, motioning to the guy next to me, i meanged to convince him to switch seats, leaving me against the window. Although better for me, he took a lot of stick for this, but gave me some distance...

For the next hour i just zoned out, staring dead ahead, singing songs in my head - until, finally, the aisle was cleared when we reached the first destination. They left, still pointing, sneering, shouting. I looked at the bus conductor. He just smiled. 4 hours to go.

Then, to make matters worse, i realised that my stomach wasnt hurting because i was hungry, it was because I was ill - and desparately needed the toilet. In a cruel twist, my first tummy bug had struck on public transport. It was more Mohali Motions than Delhi Belly. Bollocks.

Counting down the kilometres, i finally reached Delhi at 3.15. It is strange that I now see this city as home, and yearned for its relative safety. A rickshaw drive later, i was back in the house at 4.

so I was safe and sound, if a little shook up. The journey was truly a mental challenge. the urge to shout back,to tell them to 'shut up' or get aggressive was one that i had to subdue the entire time. I was the only person on the bus who was not an indian male. No girls, no kids, only them and the white guy. This sounds like a load of bollocks, but i thought about AC a lot while i was in zoned-out mode. I thought about what we had been told about international understanding, and violence and racism - and then i thought about all the negative press in Britain concerned with rascism against non-Brits. Its so scary to be the complete outsider and be in a position of total exposure and no protection. the only thing i could do was ignore them and hope it wouldnt grow into something worse. People at work have said that having done that journey, (Haryana, the state in which Mohali is in is considered to be full of horrid people with nasty attitudes apparently), india will not become any worse for me. I see it as a sucess in terms of my mental strength, even if at times i felt it was the worst experience of my life.

Last night Anil had a go at me for it. He said that i should never take buses, shoudl always call him in an emergency when i have no mode of travel and that as he was responsible for me I was never to use a bus again. I told him that it wasnt an emergency, i had transport and was totally prepared to travel on it. He repeated his statement. Basically, he'd never use public buses so obviously, as a little 18 year old, I shouldn't. As far as I am concerned, I'm not here to be a pampered tourist. 2 years of international studies have prepared me for immersion and thats what i want to do. Anil thinks I put my life in danger. He drinks and smokes too much.

So, now a confirmed Indian in the office, i would reconsider using buses again, perhaps at that time at night, but i am glad that the entire day showed me what it is really like to be a total outsider.

In a total change of scenery, Im attending the launch of William Dalrymple's latest novel tonight at the British Council. My life here is so diverse, and that's why i love it.

Cheers.

Frustrations

2006-10-27T23:06:00.000-07:00

Hello

Rather annoyed. Went home last night via UMC to pick up my laptop, only to find that it was still at the fixers and, most annoyingly, had only been there for a few days and required a payment of Rs 12,000 (about £150) for them to start the repairs. Whcih is total bollocks as Anil promised me it was completely fixed and sorted out etc, etc. The upshot is that the laptop is pretty screwed and needs a lot more work than I was first quoted....

Went out last night and was AGAIN locked out, even though Shehnaz promised she'd leave the door open... so who's the bad guy gotta wake them up...

Bring on next Friday...however on anil-time that may well mean December

It seems my thinking that I had rickshaw drivers figured out was a little off the mark, or perhaps this week I have just picked the wrong ones. Pretty much every morning, the first four or five guys I approach went straight into tourist mode - Connaught place sir, very good price, very good rickshaw. CP is basically the centre of town and the tourist hang-out. So I'm like 'Businessworld' - Connaught Place sir, yes yes - no no, Businessworld? Express Building, Times of India - oh yes sir, very goodprice, Connaught place yes yes - NO, look im not a tourist OK, i live here - yes sir connaught place. It continues in this vain with multiple drivers walking after me until i finally find someone who knows where it is. 100 Rupees sir. ONE HUNDRED! you must be joking, etc etc. And the games begin again.

Have been asked to write a 2,500 word article on the emergence of Radio as a strong advertising medium. It seems my first article wasn't too bad then... Might mean a bit of travelling, which is always good.

Cant wait til tommorow - aside from the cricket, Ill be staying in a HOTEL! privacy!

Cheers.

Looking Ahead

2006-10-25T06:30:00.000-07:00

Hello

Wednesday. My favourite day. Tonight isn't looking incredibly bad, i must say, but I am still waiting on one layout to go tommorrow and the text for one story that goes tonight... I signed off my alcohol piece but it got cut to two singles instead of a spread at the last minute...was rather gutted but kept professional exterior - i think.

Wrote a book review for 'It is just me or is everything Shit' - an incredibly amusing book of rants against some incredibly annoying things (and some things that I get the feeling he saw on the bus home from the publishers) but i can safely say that in my view, everything is certainly not shit, save the brown lumps that one must negotiate during a typical Delhi day.

Am getting very excited about some developments. On returning home tonight I should have my laptop, fresh from the fixers. On top of that my bank account should finally be confirmed this week and by next Friday, I (fingers bloody crossed) I will be living by myself in my own flat with no kids, no dog and no evil stares from the maid. Cannot wait.

Sunday brings a spot of cricket - im travelling to Mohali with some friends to watch India hopefully destroy the aussies - which will be fun. Come on Sachin and the boys.

Random sight; on my travels yesterday through a market near the house, I spotted a sign for 'Basra Properties'. One assumes that business is suitably rocketing through the shrapnel scarred roof.

Cheers.

Happy Deepawali

2006-10-23T03:42:00.000-07:00

Well Hello!

It's Monday, I'm at work and it's been a truely wicked weekend.

The PR party on Thursday was terrible. I mean the hotel-top restaurant was very very nice, the food was exquisite and the beer free - but the people! Grabbed the youngest person i could see upon entering to get thw lowdown on the company and managed to pick the Defence expert from the Hidustan Times. Riveting.

However, I left 20 minutes in to pick amicie and her friend fro the lobby and re-enter, as blatant free-loaders, to the stares of everyone (I forgot that it would be impossible to bring two blonde haired white girls into a room full of indian men). We sat for a couple of hours, ate, drank and were merry and then swanned out in the same manner of our entry. We headed to an expat party in a bar... much more exciting.

Friday brought the 'office party' - Indian style (i.e at 2PM and full of super-hot curries), and most of the team trooped down to the Press Club for a nice afternoon snack and drink afterwards - which was nice.

AND then came Saturday - Diwali (or deepawali as it is known here). Easily my favourite night in India. I had decided that i was stictly going to do the 'family' thing and not go out, and it proved a good choice. Around 7PM Anil (who is hindu, Shehnaz is Muslim but is sort of semi-Hindu on the basis of Anil) became preist-in-cheif for the ceremony where we threw sweets and money and milk (Hindus LUV Cows 4EVA) at some statues of the gods, burnt some highly toxic-smelling firelighter style lump, the smoke of which we had to inhale before it was taken all around the house and then we chanted and got our red bindis on our forehead.

Now, most of you will be familiar with my resistance to religion, but i can honestly say that i was quite impacted by this little ceremony, and felt very very priveledged to have been allowed to experience.

We then trundled off to the new house to light some candles and bless that building (6 days til moving!!) before returning for the real deal - the fireworks! There is no way to describe the rest of the night in words. From around 8PM until 3AM, there were constant explosions, fireworks and light displays. The effect was incredible. I must admit, the first few made me jump several feet in the air, much to the amusement of the kids on the street, but soon i was totally in on the action, jumping around to avoid the - basically - bouncing grenades. An indian firework is placed on street and lit, and the fun is watching it wriggle around on the tarmac and jump about the place. Whole streets congregate to produce mass shows that are totally superior to any Nov.5th show in britain. Its something about being so close that you have to dodge the flaming cardboard that is flung upwards. Just brilliant.

Played cricket in the street with the kids last night. Performed terribly, missing all of the balls, except the last which I - rather admirably, I thought - smashed over the row of houses. The kids were less impressed. I felt somewhat redeemed. Have tickets to see India play Australia next Sunday - can't wait.

Busy week ahead. 114 pages in this edition.

Cheers.

Waiting For...

2006-10-19T06:28:00.000-07:00

Hi

I'm in the office. Its rather like a scene from Godot here as we all wait around for the final blacks of the contents to be circulated. There'll be no errors, there never are when Abhijit the perfectionist is in charge of contents...but we wait for it anyway. Of course, 6 people aren't needed to proof one spread, hence the 'Lets Go'....nobody moves analogy.

You see, i can't leave, not yet anyway, because I need to go directly to the PR bash, and as that starts in a hour, theres just not enough time to whizz home in-between. So im stuck here...

I was stuck here last night as well, another 130AM departure. Starting to get into the groove though, a long sleep-in on Friday and a mild night and then im pretty much OK for saturday. As the 21st is Diwali, theres a big of a party here in the office tommorow, which with this crowd shoudl be really buzzing! The roof is on fire....

Most demoralising news of the day, my HP story that i dragged from the depths of hell has just this minute been cut from the magazine. Itll have to wait until next week, which means there'll be two 'Henry James Foy's on the pages...i guess thats a positive.

Have managed to talk Amicie into coming tonight - which means that if its a total disaster, at least ill have someone to 'knock it back' with.

Cheers

The joy of reportage

2006-10-17T11:13:00.000-07:00

Hello

Today i realised one very important thing. Marketers are totally full of shit.

Today started rather badly. For starters, my usual 930 get-up time was shifted to 7. Then, the maid (for some totally inexplicable reason) decided that this morning, i was to have my frosties with hot milk. for those that have never experienced hot milk with cereal - i warn you, it is perhaps the only thing worse than eating your own vomit, and must only be attempted in dire circumstances where you are both about to die of dehydration and have no water and have severe hypothermia. So, wolfing that down and already late, I run to the nearest rickshaw. I somehow manage to pick the only rickshaw driver in town who actually works in Swindon as he had no idea as to where the Taj Palace (one of the biggest and best joints in Delhi) is. After stopping to ask for directions for a record 4 times, he finally understands and i make the silly mistake of glancing at my watch and shouting "FutaFut" which, phonetically at least, means quick quick in hindi. I quickly understood why rickshaws arent meant to go futafut and arrived at the hotel looking like id just survived the crossing of Niagra in a barrel that was a little too big for me... AND THEN, to stab the knife so deep that it passed through me and into the three men stood behind in the hotel lift, i remembered that Id left my lunchbox in the back of the rickshaw. It was 830 AM. I should have still been asleep.

alas, i thought, Im about to meet the president of HP's global marketing division - a fantastic acheivement for such a rookie. And look, its a breakfast meeting, meaning expensive croissants, freshly pressed orange juice and hot coffee...what could go wrong?

It turned out that this chappie was perhaps the most artificial, paper-thin brand driver that i have ever met, and my colleague (with 12 years in the industry) agreed. I wont bore you with the insomnia curing details, but basically HP have just launched this totally bullshit campaign about making the computer 'personal' again, which simply means using informal fonts for their adverts, powder paint colour schemes and highly paid celebrities to stand on TV and say how HP makes their lives better. Yawn Yawn. His team of three henchmen took all the dodgy questions, such as why is your ex-chairwoman about to go to jail and hasnt Dell (the market leader) got the exact same campaign running at the moment, and so we learnt next to nothing. THEN, on returning to the office (which at 945 was totally deserted), i discovered that the dictaphone we were using was broken. 45 minutes od interview had been mashed and mangled into 5 minutes of garbage. So an extra job for the day was to reconstruct from memory an interview that bored me to death and had nothing exciting to write about. Joy. So, i will now be forever sceptical of any HP product or Ad, and will take every interview that i read in a publication with a pinch of salt....take it from me, some of it is probably made up...

But hey! From darkness cometh light! With my lunch doing the rounds of Delhi, i ventured out onto the street to find something edible. What i found is possibly my favourite indian discovery so far - but ive forgotten the name... FEAR not... it is beans, cooked and mashed into a pulp, then spices, onion and ginger are added and its served with a bready type thing onto which the bean paste is spreaded. Delish. And, I HOPE TO GOD, not filled with bacteria that are currently plotting an evil plan in my digestive tract...

On another positive note, I was selected (a loose term) to go as BW's representative to a pre-Diwali party on thursday night, hosted by some high-brow PR company....which means proper rar-rar dinner and cocktails and lots of mingle mingle mingling - My favourite!

But tommorow is wednesday....

Cheers

Time flies when you're having fun

2006-10-15T10:21:00.000-07:00

Its been a little while...

So - another issue on the stands and another week over. Its been a wierd weekend, i went out friday night and spent most of the rest of the time with the family - which has had its ups and downs.

Firstly, the good things. On thursday night I travelled home via the new (old) house to check up on its progress and more importantly have a little recce around the lower basement flat. To my great relief (and, to be honest, complete disbelief) it is only a few weeks from being habitable - which means independence for me...something that i want more than ever right now.

Friday night was a lot of fun. the younger members (meaning 30-40 year olds) in the office had decided some weeks back to 'integrate' me into the Delhi nightlife. this slowly metamorphosed into 'lets get the young brit pissed' - something that after 2 years in the most debauched school in the universe made me feel a little dubious. now, not to be rude, but most of the people didnt really look like the beer-bong type, lets say - and so i was a little scared - for THEIR health. However, i didnt want to ruin their nice thought and so went along with it.

My biggest mistake of the whole night was turning up a mere 15 minutes too late to the bar, meaning that by the time i got there, the majority of the group were practically falling off their chairs in fits of intoxicated laughter. In my infinite wisdom, i initiated a little game that ACers will be fond of, never-ever-have-i-ever, which revolves around people making statements about things they have never done and others drinking when they have participated in said action..... something that allowed me to learn ALL the office gossip in the minimal amount of time... it was highly amusing. THankfully, assorted husbands arrived to escort their loved ones home, leaving me to appreciate the company of some of the more experienced drinkers in what turned out to be a memorable and bizzare night. Helping 35 year old women walk down stairs is something i hardly ever get to do - excepting Castletown hockey club social nights, of course...

So saturday night i got coffee after work with some of the guys and had a good laugh at the previous nights antics before going out with shehnaz to do some market shopping. On the way back, stricken by an onset of hunger, i relinquished my total embargo of street food and plumped for a chicken tikka kebab. Avoiding watching the man shove the far-from-clean stick through the raw meat before smearing on the sauce with his hands and cooking it on an open fire for barely 3 minutes, i said a little prayer and dived in. I swear - that was the best chicken i have ever tasted in my entire life. My lips were on fire and my mouth felt like it was about to erupt, but it tasted so good. Milos, Tamsyn and Iona, if youre reading this, it even beat those chicken burgers we had in Belgrade - it was bloody amazing...

So, Sunday was not as good. firstly, the call on saturday night didnt come to tell me that i had a seat on the Pepsi train and in Jaipur to watch the cricket, and so was forced to watch England get mauled from the house. then, i found that sohail and zara, anil and shehnaz's 'darling' children have concocted a great game called break henry's stuff. After finding a draw containing snapped assorted items, i discovered my new (albeit fake) watch on the floor, smashed. Now ive been pretty good with these little shits up to now, and obviosuly would rather be thier mates than another disciplinary to them, but this took the biscuit...Zara is just so spoilt, and havin grannie here who loves her to bits (the whole first daughter thing, i dunno) makes her think that she can so anything. HAve also jsut found out that shes deleted all my documents from the computer......oh yeah, and the maid officially hates me, with a passion, and thats only because i try to be nice and help her with stuff and ask her not to tidy my room and do my washing and she thinks im patronising her. I have to get out of this house.....soon. And, with the shift not far off, it might just be in time.

Met Charu again tonight for some coffee near her place - had a good old chat about the social differences here....and i begin to understand why anil and shehnaz find it hard knowing how to treat me. Kids here have zero independence, basically because they have zero maturity because their parents give them zero freedom. The country is moving on so rapidly in areas such as consumerism and the economy, but trasitional values are so rigid.....something has got to give, and its not going to be pleasant.

Idiot Bigot of the day: Watching the cricket and england's finest, Geoffrey Boycott is commentating. the camera pans to a large temple-style building up on the hill overlooking the city of Jaipur (a lovely and beautiful old place - will visit soon) and it has a huge red hindu swastika symbol painted on it. Up steps boycott. "theres colditz castle" he says. Dick.

Best news of the day: Theres an old man who sells ice-creams on my corner and he;s now my friend. The best thing about this is that all the rickshaws congregate there to pick up customers, so now i dont have to spend huors explaining to the drivers that im not a tourist and so wont pay the extortionate white man fees they quote me. So, for an icelolly a week, i save 5 minutes every morning. Result.

Cheers.

Slogging Away

2006-10-11T05:53:00.000-07:00

Hello

This is the calm before the storm. I'm at work and have just signed off two of my three articles for this week. The third is a totally different story. It is due to go to press at 10pm. Its 630, and i still dont have the raw edit. In other words, i could well be here until 3 or 4 in the morning. bloody reporters.

Went out for a drink last night with Amicie, the french girl. Was nice to chat to 'an outsider' who is not connected with UMC or india. Managed to get locked out again by 'the maid' (HMM) but as it was only midnight, i felt a little bit more in the right this time and rang the bell with all my indigdant might. The maid appeared, swore at me in Hindi and flounced back to bed. I swear, she hates me so bad.

So, with a large night and a late bed-time ahead, i say goodbye, a slave to the press and the hungry readers.

Cheers .

Monday Monday

2006-10-09T10:40:00.000-07:00

Well hello there

Today is Monday, and so its been a little while since I wrote. Friday night was good fun - again out with the expat crowd, but this time I decided to drink a little less of the free alcohol and talk a little more to the assorted crowd. Met some nice people, some surprisingly friendly French people and some (even more surprisingly) internationally educated Americans. Saturday morning I spent at working before we all bunked off in the afternoon when the computer servers went down. I was the only person in the office hastily calling the mystical 'IT guys' whilst eveyone else just shrugged and packed their bags. things work a lot differently here - and sometimes, as i've noticed, not at all! So I left the office with some colleagues and went to a craft fair for blind kids and got some coffee at a local place called Mocha. I ordered a Mocha and they said that it wasnt on the menu, only indian tea and espressos. Hmmm....isnt that false advertising?

Saturday night was one to remember - my first true indian clubbing experience. I decided to start at the very pinnacle of Delhi nightlife, the highly esteemed ELEVATE! The name derives from the fact that it sits atop a 6-storey shopping mall and it is advertised and spoken of as 'the best nightclub in india'. I was so very excited. Entry was couples only - which turned out to be the biggest problem, more later. I went with a girl from work, two of her girl mates and two guy mates. The club, on four floors was startlingly small. It prides itself on having 'the best crowd in Delhi' which translates as the richest crowd, which essentially means that its full of 30-45 year olds who have made their cash and now want to pretend they're 18. But thats my problem, I see clubbing as a social event to go meet people in a room full of 16-24 year olds. Here, its for older couples who want to go out for a nice dance.... trippy. The music was rather lacking, kinda like subconti sosh/ RnB until about 1Am then this total idiot got on stage and started a craig david routine.....so very dire.....and then began to lament on about how hes been in london for a couple of years and its 'So tough for a young indian alone in london trying to make it big'. ALONE? all the crowd loved that tho...... Alas. After him came the predictable hindi bangra jump around wave your arms stuff.....time to leave

Sunday was nice, pretty relaxing, took a trip to meet a mate at the hotel again and had family dinner to patch up a few disputes over their responsibilities..... Cant wait to move into the new house, especially as the latest plans allocate a small flat on the ground floor for me....I hope these plans bear fruit.

Today was back to proper work after friday and saturdays office procrastinations, i've properly been assimilated into the production now, calling the hacks, writing the production briefs, designing the page spreads and commisioning the stories. This week i have a piece on the global economic Stagflation - whoopee - and an article about QIP's, the new corporate funding tools - apparently.

Cheers

Hectic

2006-10-06T00:47:00.000-07:00

Greetings.

Its Friday lunchtime. Im at work. This job is rather wierd, you see, we do nothing on a Friday (its 1315 and 2 out of the 5 editors are here), nothing on a saturday, a bit on a Monday, shedloads on Tuesday, Wednesday........well wednesday redefines 'work', and thursday is a bit like tuesday. Then its back to lazy old Friday.

This wednesday was absolute torture. I got in at 1030, and left the office at half one in the morning. Then, after 7 hours sleep, its back in at 1030 on Thursday. Thankfully, as we shifted so much on wednesday, Thursday was a bit easier this week... Ive been penning an article on top of all the editing this week for the youth-survey special edition coming up later this month. The reporting chief saw the potential of a British 18-year old to write something - and so my piece is about the levels of alcohol advertising to the youth of UK and subsequent drinking patterns compared to India's alcohol advertising-free environment. Im basically defending the UK's reputation by blaming it on adverts......with India as the proof. Sounds strange....you bet, but whatever, she loves it. A stat from their BW survey found 8.3% of ALL indians between 16-24 have EVER EVER sipped a morsel of alcohol. The figure for the UK is 96%.

Which brings me nicely on to last night. I met Jason again and went to this trendy art gallery opening - some decent stuff, mostly ultra-contemporary tripe that you'd see in A-level porfolios - stayed there for a bit then met Ian at the reliable Oberoi for a short catch-up, before heading to a Bar/Club birthday party. The place was funk. Italian style, little pizzas for snacks, DJ - packed full of Indian Rars and the ex-pats from the pool. Was fun, met these 24 year old Brits so it was pretty cool to chat about the old homeland and there was, naturally, the predictable rich nob (oh hey look at my armani watch) who was off his face buying everyone Moet to show his utter brilliance. Whatever, it kept the night cheap.

Homelife is getting a bit - well stuffy. Shehnaz and Anil are finding it very difficult to draw the lines, i.e their responsibility over me, their roles. Every day they tell me that theyll give me a front door key, but never do - and then get a wee bit tetchy about when im going to come home. Its difficult, like i appreciate that they put me up and all but then they think i cant look after myself, which, if im honest was the reason for me travelling out here for a year... They promised me a job, I went and got one myself, they tell me they've got loads of mates for me to meet - I go out and find my own, even this morning i was late (OK not late cos no-one else turned up but technically late) cos their driver didnt come back, Shehnaz got all stressed trying to get him back, Anil wanted him....i just left and jumped in a rickshaw. I think theres just a totally different view of independence and adolescence here... Even some of the guys in the office dont think Im 18. But Alokesh, editor, said I write with 'bags of maturity'. Result.

Cheers.

Playing the Tourist

2006-10-02T10:23:00.000-07:00

Happy Gandhiji's 137th Birthday.

Having felt rather 'at home' in Delhi on Saturday, i spent the rest of my long weekend acting like the white tourist that most people here consider me to be. Shehnaz fell ill on Friday night and so, with the trip to the Taj cancelled, i took up an offer from Jason, an Australian working for UMC to join him at a hotel for the weekly 'ex-pat pool party'. Ok, yeah i know, not very Indian, and to be honest it felt rather superficial and totally detached from the rest of the city, but i got to meet some interesting people (and a lot of rich retards), play some volleyball and , most importantly, have my first complete immersion wash for a fortnight in the pool showers. Bliss.

Sunday night, Anil Shehnaz and I went out for some food and got a lot more than we were bargining for. Sunday was the last night of the Puja festival which meant EVERYONE was on the streets, dancing, singing, cheering, almost getting run over... They burn figures of their gods and visit temporary shrines erected (it seemed) on every street corner, which meant queues to enter said shrines zigzagged their way all across the non-negotiable roads. People power to the max. Anil, driving, hated every second. Shehnaz, worrying about the people Anil was close to disfiguring at every corner, also hated it. I, hanging out the window cheering and craning my neck to see what was going on, was totally amazed. this country......

And today, the height of my touristic escapades, saw me travel to India Gate, the huge...well gate...built by the indians and the brits to commemorate all the indian dead who lost their lives fighting in foreign lands for foreign generals to acheive victories for foreign countries. Having seen the mouments in London at the start of The Mall commemorating all of Britains aquisitions, I look upon this 'gesture' as a little ironic. However, this aside, it's pretty impressive, standing roughly in the middle of a 100 metre wide and a few kilometres long stretch of parkland that runs a little uphill to the old government buildings and highly impressive palaces that overlook the entire area. Its really beautiful, and so i sat, I read a paper, had icecreams, wandered around and 'did the tourist thing', surrounded by many others. With work beckoning tommorow morning, It was a really nice way to spend a lazy national holiday.

One of the palaces that overlook the park, from the top end

The Gate, marking the other end of the park

Random moment of the day: in the park a men came running up to me shouting "im a druggie, im a druggie, give me money, im a druggie". Im not quite sure why he thought that this would be a better tactic than the traditional dog and hat approach, but decided that he was skipping the inevitable "I dont give money to homeless people cos all theyll do is spend it on drugs" excuse. Regardless of his thinking (or lack of), he only suceeded in making me dodge his approach and speed up.

The first and second most important people in the house. In no particular order; Anil and Lucky the Dog.

Cheers.

The Weekend

2006-09-30T06:29:00.000-07:00

Hey

So the issue went to print on time. And my three articles and assorted snippets are...as of this moment...seemingly devoid of any mistakes. With the time I spent pouring over them, i should bloody well hope so!

Friday was another long day in the office, the first of a 4 day (as apposed to the normal 6) production week. And its a 'bumper' edition. Some 104 pages. Yay. Friday night I left the office at around 8.30 PM and suggested to the team that we should all do the British friday night thing, and go for a quick half down the pub. Now Delhi is rather short of pubs and it was only meant as a joke but - to be honest - the three girls i work with are all kinda boring (read lacking personality and humour) and so it went straight over their heads. One even looked at me accusingly said, "I'm married, you know". Oh god.

Thankfully, the other girl, Indira, is a little more exciting. So we went for some beers. I also found out that Businessworld is renouned in the industry for being Right-wing. The lone socialist, an eccentric senior editor approached me to ask what my newspaper of choice was. Hoping to find a fellow leftie in this young man, she scathing replied "oh, another one" when i mentioned the Daily Telegraph.

Today i met Charu, the girl who was instructed by her mother to meet me. She's good fun, we went to Connaught place, a British-built glorified roundabout (some 300metres in diameter) with ever increasing larger cirles of road and roads stretching out from the centre (like a bike wheel is viewed from above). Its a really impressive area and as "the centre of Delhi" it was swarming with tourists and full of western shops and restaurants. It was weird, i kind of resented the other white people...read into that what you will. Dont get me wrong, the place is really bloody cool, its where all the rich indians hang out with their HUGE sunglasses, open shirts and multitude of jewellery. Its the kind of place

This weekend is called Puja which is a sort of a holiday due to Ramadan and the hindu celebrations overlapping. Tommorow could possibly bring a short break to Agra (where the Taj Mahal is) for sunday and monday. I'm quite looking forward to it...

Cheers

The first of many

2006-09-27T12:11:00.000-07:00

Its been a tough day.

I left the house today at 10.15 and finally returned at 23.45 Today is a Wednesday, which means that the bulk of the major stories go to press tonight. The rest of the stories and the columns and news snippets go at 2, 5 and 7 tommorow. Thus, today was spent perfecting, tweaking and finalising 4 articles, 2 personally by myself. I will never, ever, read a magazine or newspaper in the same way again... the work that goes into a mere 8,000 words (4 articles, roughly) is incredible. Every edit (each article had around 4) has to be sent to the writer and reporter (based mainly in Bombay) for their input, cross checked by copy editors and layout specialists and then it is finally signed off to print. With a print run of 150,000, Businessworld has NO margin for error.

I thought I had a pretty good grasp of English. Our survey says..UH UH. The learning curve is steep, but the language is totally different from the English I had ever used or been taught before. That's why you can read a magazine and talk to someone on the phone at the same time, or sip coffee, or eat a sandwich...Thats why you can read The Times whilst you argue across the dayroom about Kashmiri rebels....The way that these articles are written, with such perfection, is the reason they read so easily, they flow and are absorbed without any real effort. Believe me, reading a first edit, riddled with mistakes that protrude like the Blackpool Tower on 'lights on' day, takes so much brainpower. So, next time you skim through a 1,000 word two page spread in Time or Newsweek whilst you wonder what you'll have for lunch, think of the poor team of copy editors that spent 13 hours in the office to ensure that you will plough through the text like a knife through butter. Mistakes stick out like a rescue flare - especially, as in my case today, when they are circled with a big fat red pen...

Bring on Friday...and then, thanks to Gandhi's birthday and some Bengali festival (BW is owned by a Calcutta-based company) i have Saturday, Sunday and Monday off. I am exstatic..the other editors groan....2 days off the schedule means a horror Tuesday Wednesday and Thursday. I am rather overawed by the importance of, and the hardwork required to perform, this job.

Goodnight.

Cheers.

Understanding the trade...

2006-09-26T09:52:00.000-07:00

Hello there

The dog is no longer my friend. I detest the animal.

Alas...two days of work and Alokesh was right. Things do start to pick up as we get closer to Thursday night, print night. Im starting to realise the role that i play in this industry. A reporter that was in the office today described us (the editors) as 'The Spunk of the magazine, everyone's bitch'. What literary brilliance. We told him that our job was to sift through the Spunk that him and his reporter mates drop on our desk. Innuendo aside, my job is simply to correct the appaling trash that the writers produce, make it readable, cut it down, place it in the layout, cut it down again to fit, adjust everything to the magazine's style and then put the reporter's name on the byline. The arguement that i had with many AC students after appointing 6 Brits to run the newspaper after I moved on is now crystal-clear to me: Without decent editing, any publication would become unreadable. As readers we dont notice that everything in a decent magazine is consistent, the way they quote, the way they write titles, currency, etc...its really hard work to maintain this and its my job, but without it the magazine loses its image and identity. They say that a stint as an editor does wonders for a journalist's writing style. I can see why.

A social sucess. I have a friend of my own age! one of the 3 senior editors in the office was reading my CV and called me over to chat about AC etc... it turns out she has a daughter starting uni in Delhi. Im going to a party next weekend thus, more friends...! One step at a time... hmmm.

The Delhi Gateway, from a tuc-tuc, at sunset

The area in which I am living, Greater Kailash, is currently going through a bit of a community-jarring episode. The area is marked 'residential' on the ancient 'City of Delhi' zone map excepting areas where commercial buildings have been allowed, such as markets and shopping centres. However, over the last 20 or so years the main street in GK has become lined with shops for the mainly middleclass residents. Last week, the Delhi government decided that they were going to adhere to the old zones and began to systematically seal all shops that 'do not serve an important service to the community' (which, interestingly, means that Gyms, Beauty Salons and Hairdressers are all OK, but the Samsonite, Apple and other branded shops get the boot). What is amusing is that the shopkeepers have begun to put up banners along the road to get their feelings across. One reads 'DELHI GOVERNMENT DOES NOT RESPECT OUR HUMAN RIGHTS' - a little bit of an overexaggeration from a shopkeeper when there are thuosands starving on the streets of the city - but my favourite has to be 'DELHI GOV. vs HITLER: WHO IS THE BIGGER CRIMINAL?' I dare say that some passers-by may stop and consider this tricky little question, but if reworded to say 'SEALING MY SHOP vs GENOCIDE OF MILLIONS: CHOOSE YOUR FAVOURITE', the answer may be a little easier to reach.

I've quickly learnt not to be surprised by anything in this crazy city.

the Indian Express Building, where Businessworld is based and where I work.

More pictures to appear ... by popular demand

Cheers.

Day 10

2006-09-24T10:51:00.000-07:00

10 Days? Already?

After a pretty lazy day at the end of an exciting but tiring week, I can think of nothing better than a nice long sleep. It seems Sunday evenings are the same everywhere in the world. Work begins at 11 o'clock (finishing around 6) tommorow and I will start the editing of a 2000 word article on the collapse of the Indian debt market that will feature in this Thursday's edition of Businessworld. To be honest, I didn't expect to be handed such an important job this early on but jumping in at the deep end is certainly something I relish. Let's just hope it hits the newstands error-free, hey!

I am using Anil's driver to get to work in the mornings and Tuc-Tucs to get home in the evenings. For those that don't know, a tuc-tuc is a three wheeled vehicle, around 8-foot long with a double-seat (for up to 8 passengers, it appears) at the back and a seat for the driver all covered with stretched tarpaulin-style fabric. The front wheel is rather like a motorcycle wheel and the handlebars give it high manouverability which is perfect for picking its wasy through the traffic in sucessful yet highly unnerving fashion. Strangely, as it makes a noise louder than your average Boeing, the engine is about the size of a sewing machine and all tuc-tucs in Delhi now run on Compressed Natural Gas (as do all the taxis and buses), making them better for the environment which is good considering the great swathes of them that dominate the roads. The ride can be a little hairy, especially as they have the suspension of a shopping trolley but they are brilliant fun, and at around 3 rupees (4pence) a mile, top value for money!!!

With Anil and Shehnaz's house nearly renovated we should all be shifting in around 10 days. The entire household cannot wait, and it'll mean ill get a bit more freedom and independece. Which is good. But for now its a rather lethargic goodbye and goodnight from Delhi.

And nice one Europe. Maybe the Americans should try learning how to smile and THEN learning how to play golf.

Cheers.

Hi Ho Hi Ho...

2006-09-22T11:16:00.000-07:00

...its off to work i went. With no lunch (thinking that there would be some kind of canteen service etc..), a shirt and tie (to which even the editor laughed at saying - there really is no dress code, one would only wear a tie (physically grimacing as he says the word) to an official function or important interview) and no knowledge whatsoever concerning SEZ's or HIB's (which happened to be the gossip topics of the day.) Joy.

So i was the new boy in every way. everyone knew that there was this 18 year old white boy in the office and so i shook so many hands and learnt many names of which now i remember about 4 and can pronounce only 2. To make me even more obvious i had to order a dominos pizza to fend off starvation, walk around completely overdressed in a room full of jeans and polos and try to look like i knew what was going on as those around me discussed business terminology and the 'state of the mumbai property situation'. I was the ultimate small fish (verging on microscopic plankton) in the very very big pond.

Work begins tommorow where i will begin to edit as part of a team of 6 the entire magazine excepting the news snippets and contents section that takes up the first 10 pages of the publication. Thats around 60 pages between 6 guys. Make that 60 pages between 5 and a quarter people. however my immediate boss is a great guy who is going to try to build me up slowly. I made some friends - The pizza helped imensely in this case - did some clandestine research on Special Economic Zones and High Income Bonds and left at 6 feeling pretty OK for a first day. This time on Thursday (deadline day) may be a little different. Alokesh (head editor) told me that some Wednesdays he's in the office way past midnight. But, this is what I want to do for a large part of my life, so i should get stuck in now.

In other news, Anil has given me his car on sunday (i work Saturdays as well) to start to learn to drive. Theres two ways of looking at this. Delhi is THE worst place to learn because ppl here drive so incerdibly badly, but then, as ill be terrible to begin with, at least ill fit in....right? Just dont tell my mum.

Oh yeah and Lucky the dog has taken to shitting on the floor of my room. today i locked the door and apparently she was seen scratching at it whilst i was away. bizarre and quite revolting. but "shes just SOOO cute". Do you think she knows what some Chinese people do with cute dogs?

Cheers.

A Foot on the ladder

2006-09-21T11:33:00.000-07:00

Well hello there,

What a day. I am exhausted. It began early this morning (around 6AM) where i woke up in a stake of half excitement, half anxiety. Snoozing until around 9, I got up, made breakfast and had my shower. Shehnaz and her mother alternate as to whether they are taking a bath or having a shower. I have studied the possibility of both and have found that it is impossible to take (or have) either of them in the bathroom that I use, so unless i have missed the secret door to the large bath/shower unit, i will continue to assume that they only use this terminology for their own personal joy. I prefer to say, 'I am going to wash myself', believing this to be an incontestable statement.

SO, I arrange with Anil to use a UMC driver to take me to my interview and decide that 11 is the best time to leave (giving me an hour to travel only around 10 miles- but then again this is Delhi where there is no thing as Rush hour, only Bedlam 24 hours. Do TucTuc drivers sleep??) Predictably, sods law ensuring, the drive takes around 25 minutes, leaving me embarrasingly early for the interview, something that the driver (assuming that everything in India is late) cannot grasp as he opens the door for me three times before i finally suceed in convey to him in English, sign language and eye movements that i would like to wait inside his vechicle for as long as possible. I last only 8 minutes.

So, still early for my 12.00 meet, i climb the stairs. The same security guard who laughed at me yesterday for not having a business card laughs at me today for being 15 minutes early and for wearing a suit. Whatever. He's a security guard. I walk in to the Editors office and immediately show him his own magazine (the biggest selling business magazine in India). This article, i say, addressing the lead, cover article, is full of errors. My copy of the article is full of circled grammar errors, punctuation problems and poor english. He shruggs "We have a limited amount of time to edit" TA DAAA - "thats what im here for". He smiles. BINGO! We spent 10 minutes or so discussing why i like journalism, why i liked India, what i want to acheive blah blah.. I dont know anything about Indian Business, and i told him this, but im willing to learn and so i begin work tommorow at 1 PM, the start of the weekly print cycle. Result. Im chuffed, employed by a major indian weekly and a significant boost to the old CV. On the way out i smiled at the guard and told him id be back tommorow at 1. He laughs again.

Its a perfect start to my time here. Today marks my first week in Delhi and I'm really happy to be on my feet already doing what I came here for. The editor, a Mr. Prosenjit Datta, wants me at the planning meeting at 3.30 tommorow to discuss content for the next week's issue. Obviously, wanting to make the best impression as possible, I cant decide whether the security guard was right, is wearing a suit in 35 degrees a stupid idea or not?

Cheers.

Results...?

2006-09-20T09:36:00.000-07:00

Good Evening, Morning or Afternoon

Today was a brilliant day. A day which really made me feel like im here for a long time. I woke and, with Shehnaz and the maid sought to completely empty, clean and refill my bedroom, giving me space to put my stuff - yep, finally im not living out of my trusty suitcase - the first time since June 19th. The room im in was only really used as a storage room and a place for the computer so it was kinda dirty and full of junk - a few hours of cleaning later...and hey presto, a bedroom.

Right, with that out of the way I headed down to the nearest cyber cafe and printed out my letter, CV and school report to send to Businessworld, a magazine looking for 'trainee sub-editors'. A hurried car drive later and i was at their offices where the Executive editor took my stuff, talked for a few minutes and told me to come back for an interview tommorow at 12! wahey!! however, he's got to read my stuff first, so im not counting any chickens yet, but its a start nonetheless. so yes, a good day.

I'm starting to feel at home here (the house, not Delhi, obviously), adjusting to using a bathroom dominated by cock-roaches (little ones, so not too bad) however its a bit precarious using the loo for the old number two, and sleeping on the floor in a room that has a resident lizard (!!) (ITS REALLY GOOD LUCK HENRY!! oooo if it lands on your head ull be a millionaire!! - shehnaz). I can, however, think of other - more assured and less frightening - ways of becoming a millionaire and have decided that, tradition or not, if it comes anywhere near my head it's good luck will have run out. Im also mastering the bucket-washing technique, refining my time in the batroom to only 3 buckets-worth including soap and shampoo, conserving water and limitng the time i have to socialise with the insects. Me, the environment, the privacy of the bugs; Everybody wins.

The mass of roads and tracks and just bits of land that cars drive over is starting to make sense to me and the geography of the place is coming together, slowly as I move around and explore the place. Tommorrow, after the interview, im off to buy a map and start to get a complete idea of the city. Its just so big though, and many peiople live in these huge numbered 'colonies' which spread out like a cobweb. Getting lost in these is very very easy when signs are scarce and houses similar looking.

I promise some photos of the house and of Anil and his family soon. Psyched about the interview.

cheers

Full Steam Ahead

2006-09-19T11:24:00.000-07:00

Ciao

so. it's about midnight here in lovely new delhi and the temperature is still in the 30s. I've been bashing out revised resumes and cover letters to prepare for tomorrows onslaught on the local Delhi newspaper offices. I have meetings with 'players' in the industry tommorow (describing me as dubious would be an understatement) but more promising are two adverts which are looking for "trainee sub editors with an enthusiastic outlook wanting a career in journalism". there you go. voila as they say in Paris. And now all I need is for Shehnaz to confirm her address (shes asleep at present) print them out, don the suit and get down to the offices for some 'chatting'. I hope that they overlook the fact that im completely unqualified, very young and have rather a small amount of experience. Maybe ill spin INK as an "international student publication produced for the swarming UWC student masses". We'll see. Its the first try and this is a BIG country i.e lots of newspapers. Fingers Crossed.

In other news - today was fun, very hot, walked around, saw some markets, ate more indian food without the smallest comlpaint from my digestive system and have no made sufficient progress with Lucky, the golden Retriever to call her a friend, which means I am fortunate enough to be chased around the house for a minute every time i enter the front door. Progess.

Cheers.

"When you go home, you'll feel lonely in a cinema..."

2006-09-18T01:30:00.000-07:00

Hello, avid readers.....?

I write this from my bedroom in a flat in Delhi. I am currently living with Anil Arora, his wife Shehnaz, Shehnaz's mother and their children Zara and Sohail - both eight. I have a small room to myself, Shehnaz and Anil share a bedroom and Gandma, Sohail and Zara share a bed in the back room. In a fe weeks we will all be heading back to thier old house which is currently being renovated.

I've spent the last few days travelling around Delhi, Friday and Saturday with Shehnaz and Sunday with Ian. This city is so alive - it makes London feel like a Friday Night Lecture in late November. There are so many people here that it blows your mind. Friday was spent running between shops preparing for Sohail's birthday party and Satruday involved the party itself - a room packed with around 40 eight year olds, 20 or so mums and dads, a very enthusiastic team of face-painters and game organisers and myself. A little lost as you would assume. However, as chief cameraman i launched into action with journalistic zest and soon i didnt feel out of place at all, which is a little scary in hindsight as all the kids were younger than 10 and spoke very little English. If AC taught me anything, however, it was that a party (in whichever form) is THE perfect time for schmoozing. So, schmooze i did and managed to find the daughter of the editor of the WHO magazine in India and a lady who's two close friends write freelance for Indian newspapers. It's not what you know....

Saturday night was my last night in the magnificent Oberoi, a hotel so grand and lavish that it all went over my head a little. I was not expecting to spend my first few nights in 5+ star accomodation - and it certainly wasnt what i came here for - but it was practical in order for me to be close to Ian and Anil before moving in properly.

Sunday Ian and I travelled to Noida, a suburb to the south of Delhi where one can truely appreciate the changing face of India. We parked and strolled through the main street of shops, very unstable buildings touting every available product (think shopping in Kibera WWA people), until they gave way to a more western 'block' structure of streets with air-conditioned stores, glass fronts and VISA logos. Another short walk later and I am standing at the foot of a huge Mall, with electronic searches at the enterance and an very obvious clientele policy. As I sat with my drink in one of the restaurants at the top of the mall, i could see all of this laid out below me as a stark illustration of the growth of the Indian Middle class and the shifting amounts of wealth. What was perfectly fine 10 years ago is now usurped by the next thing, driven by huge growth and shifting and income brackets. This is a country moving very rapidly and a population pleased with the changes.

Hmm, this is quite a long one. Well - food status: I'm valiantly battling on. Shehnaz's cooking is very very good and she's trying her best to produce food that isnt going to blow my tonsils away, in turn im trying my very hardest to increase my tolerance....its early days. Im feeling a bit under the weather today - sniffly nose and the like - but im putting that down to shifting from the almost sterile Hotel conditions to living with Anil and family. The fight against illness begins!!

Cheers.

First Day

2006-09-14T12:23:00.000-07:00

Hello from Delhi!

Arriving off the flight with priority baggage all ready for collection was one thing, but being dropped off at a huge hotel with no rhyme or reason was another altogether. So, I speak to reception, and there's a reservation for me, so far so good. I find the room, my bags are brought up, im left alone and then i realise - where am I, why am I here and what is going on.... a great start. Ok ok, this sounds negative, its not, im checked in to a top quality luxury hotel in Delhi where the food is great and the service makes Britain look like a country of rude and uncaring individuals...(this may, however, be correct in every circumstance). So, i enjoy what the hotel has to offer, and tonight i met Ian, Joe and Mikhail (the Board of UMC) for dinner. I'm here for tonight only, tommorrow i make the short trip across town to the Oberoi, where the rest of the (non-indian) guys at UltraMotors are staying. After that I move in with Anil and his family for a few days before going it alone. The place is fantastic, the people are great and the atmosphere is electric. Motorways the width of the M4 with no lane markings complete with high performance cars, buses, tuc-tucs, pedestrians and cows all vying for their little piece of tarmac. Quite what the cows get out of it I dont know. It's crazy yet undeniably appealing.

Cheers. Take Care

It's On

2006-08-07T09:16:00.000-07:00

It all begins on September 14th.

Watch this space