Wednesday, April 28, 2010
First Rain
Thunder threatens high above the skies...
Nothing but heat, grim,and dust surrounds us,
For months and endless weeks.
The heavens darken,
With the promise of rain --
Birds chirp,
And squirrels warn each other.
The dogs wait in anticipation.
The end to dog day afternoons.
They wait, listening to the skies
To and fro their ears scan the parameter.
A cool breeze enters,
Teasing us as it circles around.
Then, everything comes to a stand still.
A quiet stillness...
Slowly, the heavens open,
And the skies let go.
First drops of the season,
The sweetest of them all.
The earth mingles with the cold water.
Engulfing our senses.
Brightening all things green,
Along with our spirits.
First rain.
Photo:http://www.flickr.com/photos/girl-inchoate/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Dealing with Dirty Cops in India
It's a big coincidence that BBC broke the story on police brutality in India yesterday morning because I was going to write about my experiences with them the day before. It's not news that police in India are corrupt. Offenses go from asking small bribes such as “chai money” to beating people and killing them. While it's understandable that police harass and ask for bribes because they're not paid properly, it is still annoying to the general public.
I would've let it go if it was a one time case but this is the second time the police picked on my driver. First off, I don't really have a great opinion of the police force in India. The only people I respect are the ones who are higher up officers – because they believe in justice and getting the perps to face consequences. I've also seen them in action on a stake out so I know how they behave. I've heard so many stories of what cops do to get bribes and have personally witnessed such things. It's really ugly and disgusting.
Since it was Tuesday, most of the markets and shopping centers in Gurgaon were closed. There wasn't much traffic on the street. I went to Galleria Market to run some errands and told the driver to pick me up after an hour. I called him up after I was done when I got to our pre-arranged pick-up spot. He said he was coming but I didn't see him at all, so I started walking the block and kept an eye out. In the distance, I saw a white car that looked like the car we came in and two cops surrounding it. Now, my eyes are not in a great condition – due to the over use of electronics such as the computer, iPods and PSP, I can't really see that far. And since my pup chewed both of my glasses, my eyes seemed to be working fine until two days ago. As I approached the car, I saw that it is really our driver and the cops are really talking to him. The driver was behind the steering wheel calling the guy who runs our car service.
Our driver happens to look Asian because he's from Sikkim a state in the Northeast part of India. We like him because he's on time, prompt and knows where he's going most of the time. If he doesn't he'd check with the guy who runs the service. We like this service because it's very efficient, and we have a great deal with them. They'd replace the car if the AC's not working, they get you to the place you need to go on time, and they're available for pick-ups and drops at odd hours like 1 am for the airport etc. The guy who runs it is flexible and it's pretty much a two men operation with two cars or so. They both don't speak much English but we get by. I like the driver because he's aware of security issues, protective and can maneuver out of bad situations. (More on that later.)
I immediately looked at the cops – a skinny tall one and a fat short one. I recognized the skinny cop with khaki uniform because he tried picking on us last week until I came out of the ATM and asked him whether I can help him. He said something about parking and let us go. This time again, I asked them what the matter was. One cop said he was on the cell phone, another said, it's because it's a no-parking area. The skinny one scrammed immediately right after that. I guess he realized it's no use dealing with me. He also had his name tag on his uniform. I tried reading it and tried memorizing it. The fat short cop, also in khaki didn't have a tag. He seemed like he wanted some money out of this deal and told me to sit in the car. I sat, put the bags that I was carrying away and assessed the situation. The fat cop then got into shot gun position and we drove three feet down the road where other cops where sitting.
There were two cops in khaki on a Gypsy (great little jeep car that's used mostly by police and government officials) and two traffic cops on plastic chairs in front of the Gypsy. I knew that already because I just passed by them. The fat cop got out and handed the papers to the traffic police. You can tell they're traffic police because they wear white and blue uniforms. I called Will at home and spoke to him about the situation. I just wanted to be on the phone and talk to someone about it. He asked me if I wanted him to come down to Galleria. I was a bit alarmed because this is new territory for me. I've heard enough horror stories of Gurgaon cops. At least officers in West Bengal spoke English. I told him that it was not necessary and that I'll be calling my lawyer friend soon. I got out of the car while I was still on the phone and walked over to the traffic police. I got off the phone, I lifted my sun glasses and told them, in English that he was on the phone because he's picking me up. I told them that I just passed by them and that they did see me. (I know they were watching me because I look like a foreigner. Nobody wears all black in India, especially not tourists.) Besides, people stare at people all the time here, especially if you're a woman and obviously a foreigner or worse yet, you're white. One of the traffic cops on the chair mumbled something about parking and looked at the papers. I looked at the cops on the Gypsy and they didn't seem to care about what's going on in front of them. Only the fat cop seemed eager to squeeze something out of the situation.
I walked back to the car to get my lawyer friend's number and called her up. She's handled mostly human trafficking cases but she's familiar with dealing with the police and procedures. I walked back in front of the cops while I was on the phone again. I spoke to my friend about the situation, and told her in front of them what has been happening. I made sure they heard me even though the conversation was all in English. The fat cop looked up, worried. Then they let us go, my driver called and I was back in the car as she was telling me what to ask for from the cops if they asked for money. They didn't even get to that part and let us go. By that point I told her that we're on the way and that they've let us go because I've been stern and have been on the phone a number of times. I also told her that this might be racially motivated since the driver is Asian and this is a second time we've been stopped in the same area. Indians are very race conscious and if you're white or Asian you tend to stand out.
My friend said that if they ever asked for money, ask for a slip or receipt of some sort. Tell them that you're willing to pay the fine but you're not willing to pay through illegal means – that you'll pay through the proper channels. She also told me to learn Hindi fast so I can yell at them properly. It's just another day dealing with dirty cops as far as I'm concerned. But it's a widespread and well known problem. What the Naureen Shah from Human Rights Watch said was right, India needs reforms for its police forces if they want to be a proper “democracy” and properly modernize the country.Photo by: mvcorks
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009!
2008 has been a very very crazy year. Those of you who know me well would know that I've been through a lot of major ups and downs. Here's 20 things that I've learned from this year that I'd like to share:
- Rules can be bent as long as targets are met.
- Try harder when someone says, "it's impossible."
- You can be creative given the right conditions.
- Being an abstract thinker doesn't mean you can't communicate.
- If the boss is happy, everyone else is happy, and you'll be happy, too.
- Sometimes you need to slow down. No point in talking to your colleagues if they don't get what you're saying.
- Diagrams and flowcharts work when folks don't understand your English.
- If snack sizes don't work, try bite sizes. Adjust to your audience.
- If you repeat the same thing you said a couple of months ago in a meeting, the issue is not worth vexing over.
- Breathe. The world won't stop turning if an issue is not solved that day.
- There's a warm and fuzzy feeling that happens in your stomach when you know that the copy you wrote is viewed by millions.
- Being a change agent means you have to swim upstream at times.
- You can still be angry or upset and not lose your sense of humor.
- Lawyers can be blood suckers and cops deserve the nick name, "pigs" -- at least in Kolkata. I still love NYPD.
- When you're in dire straits and call out for help, those who matter will come to your rescue.
- Friendships are priceless, the true test comes when you need a ton of money really fast at a couple hours of notice.
- Believe in the power of your network, you can never replace that human connection.
- Your parents are not perfect, no matter how much you like them to be.
- Having a padawan is really cool. Making that person think out of the box and grow as a writer is even more awesome.
- I'm a card carrying SMORE (social media whore.)
1. Transition into travel writing and magazines.
2. Make slightly bigger ripples.
3. Be more attuned spiritually.
4. Travel to more destinations in and around Myanmar, India, maybe head to Nepal and Bhutan.
5. Connect with techies in Kolkata, rock the scene.
6. Connect with more expats in Kolkata, rock that scene too. ^_^
7. Get my solar panel project off the ground. (Please email me [yuyudin at gmail dot com] individually if you're interested.)
Photo by ViaMoi
Sunday, December 21, 2008
The Film That Started My Career
I've been on Twitter a lot lately and folks like @dailytwitter and @anandnataraj would ask me about the film I made when I was 16. So I think it's due that I wrote a post about it. My journey to this film was started by Rona, the then Assistant Principal of Manhattan International High (MIHS) School. We had a great school, it was part of the alternative school system in NYC. And you might've guessed, we call our teachers by their first names.
MIHS was established a year before I was in ninth grade, housed in the old Julia Richmond school. It was meant for kids who were in the US for less than four years, so it's a totally ESL (English as a Second Language) school. Being in that building itself was pretty school because there were small schools inside that huge building.
Being "alternative" meant that there were less stress on tests and more emphasis on other ways of learning. After I learned about something we had the choice of writing a research paper about the subject, or in my case, I wrote short stories. When we learned Shakespeare, we'd write essays about it, as well as perform to the class. I always borrowed the school camera for my class. I joined the theater club as well.
So when the call for the "Intensive Filmmaking Workshop" came, my name was listed. I was asked if I'd be interested to apply. Spend the summer learning how to make a film? Why not! I heard there were about 500 applicants, where only 5 were selected. We had to write an essay, then we were shortlisted, interviewed, and selected. Two students were selected from my school - Katia and myself. The other students came from other alternative high school like Educational Video Center (a vocational high school), High School for Performing Arts, and High School for Environmental Studies. I also did a morning program called "Word Up" which was headed by the superintendent's office. That was a great program too there were classes for the arts like acting, singing, visual arts etc.
The workshop taught us everything about how to make a film from scratch. We discussed film theory, history, and anything that had to do with producing our little short student film. One requirement of the program was that we had to make a film on Paul Robeson. We were like, who? We researched about him in addition to researching and learning about film. Needless to say, it was the best summers I had in New York. Sam, one of the students who produced the film was gracious enough to transfer the film online so here it is:
After I produced the film, I joined Globalvision, Inc. I'm using this space to add collections of my work. You can read my letter to the Village Voice here published that same year. It was a big deal back then because this is my first "published" piece of writing. ^_^
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
World AIDS DAY: Remembering AIDS victims of Burma (Myanmar)
I lost two cousins back-to-back to AIDS a couple of years ago. One was a famous rock star in Myanmar (Burma) Ba Din -- most people of my generation would remember him. He's one of those rare musicians that actually composed his own music. Most music in Burma are just the western music in Burmese. (Try listening to "My Heart Will Go On" in Burmese it's horrible, though Eminem is not bad.) The other cousin was his brother -- one of the first generation Burmese programmers. Ko Ba Din, ("Ko" is a title of respect and love that the Burmese endow upon older brothers.) left behind a wife and a son. Ko Kwa's wife disappeared shortly after his death and many suspect her to be dead.
Incidentally, probably that same year, 2000, I had called my father to tell him that a report came out from the World Health Organization (WHO) that said that Myanmar had the highest HIV infection rate. Our health care system was ranked 190 when there's only 191 countries. Read the SF Chronicle article here. My father denied the facts, of course, as any good career diplomat would over the tapped phone lines. I understood something was up. And sure enough a couple of months down the line, my other cousin who was studying in Illinois emails me to tell me that Ko Kwa passed away from some sort of illness. I don't even know if he himself knew that it was AIDS related then.
Fast forward eight years to 2008 -- there's a ton of orphans in Myanmar right now because a lot of people from my cousins' generation are dead. Still to this day, nobody really knows how many Burmese are HIV-positive but the recent press release from UNAIDS estimates that about 240,000 people in Myanmar are infected. According to the Medecins Sans Frontiers (MSF or Doctors Without Borders) 76,000 Burmese are in urgent need to antiretroviral treatment or else they will die needlessly (Most likely producing more orphans). Apparently, Myanmar receives the lowest humanitarian aid -- USD $3.00 per person only. Probably the lowest in the region compared to her neighboring countries.
This is not surprising to me, I went to Myanmar right after the Cyclone Nargis. Literally, I landed right after the skies were cleared. I wasn't used to living without electricity or proper water, but my family and neighbors managed. My mom cooked me my favorite dishes, they found stuff even when prices where going through the roof. My aunt even got me some frog curry (Ya I have weird taste in food, I can be Anthony Bourdain's apprentice). My dad put me back on the plane as fast as he could. When I came back to India, I saw that Myanmar made New York Times headlines for a couple days. As I ask myself: why do we make headlines only when monks or students get shot or a major cyclone disaster hits? Then, I check another email from the New York Times, this is a sad one: Myanmar didn't make it on the "most emailed" articles list of that week. People were more concerned about the Emmy nominations.
So this World AIDS Day, are people really concerned about AIDS or are they more concerned about Cyber Mondays and Mobile Tuesdays? Are they concerned about who to invite to their Christmas party, or their jobs, Britney Spears's new documentary on MTV, or world peace? What are folks really worried about? If you're really concerned about AIDS and the dying children in Burma, you can go ahead and send some cash to Doctors Without Borders by clicking here.
Because if you really care, saving a life is only a couple of clicks away.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Twitter: the New Platform for "Citizen Journalism"
There was a sense of revolution in the air because it was the first time independent media makers across the United States came together to produce their own live national television without the support of corporate media. They were veterans riding the wave of the IMF protests in Seattle. I was the new kid on the block, quiet literally. Folks who knew about the productions tuned into their local public access channels to watch the two live shows: Democracy Now with Amy Goodman and Crashing the Party with Laura Flanders. These were the days before YouTube.
We shared our concerns, our worries, our anger (I'm still pissed the Deepak Chopra's the only "Indian expert" mainstream media can find!) then people like Michael Leis and David Cushman went on to blog about the twitter experience. You can't get anymore real time than this -- the news happened, it was broadcast, digested, then commentary followed right away. Plus, this is happening at the speed of thought. THAT to me is a "revolution". How will this revolution evolve? We'll just have to wait and see, some are calling it "Web 3.0". More on that later...
