19 Jan 2004

We just got back to Gomti Guest House after buying the tickets. That was an adventure. First, we had to finalize the schedule and get the total ticket price. Then we had to go to a bank in order obtain the rupees to pay the tickets. The main station is something else. Situated opposite one of the bazaars, the area attracts thousands of people. And hundreds of autorickshas. The station itself is crowded with all types of huanity, and the smell of humanity and fuel and excrement all mixed together. The bank was located at platform 12, and to get there we needed to purchase a platform ticket. There was the long march to platform 12 from platform 1. The train station is laid out much like the rail yards of the UK, but with a much grander scale. We did get the money changed, and walked back to the ticket office. To and from the ticket office was done by autoricksha. That was quit fun as well. The driving in India seems to be "go where you can and honk your horn constantly." My ears are ringing slightly. I got a few photos of the trips over and back. Now, we are off to purchase lunch and some on-the-road supplies for our trip to Haridwar.

18 Jan 2004

I am sitting at the small cafeteria at JNU. After I have eaten the Masala Dosa (which was recommended), the group of us will go to the train station for our tickets for the rest of the trip. H. is a great sport from Israel studying chironomid larvae in rivers. S. and I may be helping him later with some of the research he is doing. I need to still do e-mailing back to the U.S., friends and family. The environs are starting to become familiar, although some of the customs are yet to become ingrained. I have taken my Pepto so the dosas may be eaten without problem. I will finish my entry after lunch.

... or not.

Jan 17, 2004

Got a few hour's sleep [on the plane to Delhi]. We are now flying over Afghanistan. The time locally has just been turned off, so this may mean a movie - nope; comedy shorts. Everybody Loves Raymond.

It was followed by a BBC comedy - very fun.

We are now on the final descent into Delhi. The little airplane icon on the monitor is hugging the large diamond that is Delhi, and reads "Remaining flight time: 0:08."

Still, at an altitude of somewhere above the clouds, I don't know how we will be able to meet the ETA. Maybe the fog rolled back in? I hope that we will not be diverted. Here's the captain (first [announcement] in Dutch). Ah, we're in a holding pattern of unknown duration. We shall wait...

17 Jan 2004

11:58 AM. WE HAVE ARRIVED!!

The fog/smog is still thick. Can't easily see past a few 100 meters. Still, it is exciting - and not just because I'm getting more stamps in my passport.

The trees are different.

The runway is dry of snow, ice, or rain. Dry and warm (~15C). And I still have my longjohns on. Oh well. I'll just not try and exert myself too much.

YAY! WE ARE FINALLY HERE!!

Grand Central Observations

The vaulted ceiling of G.C.
Hold the starts in a turquoise embrace.
Aquarius through Cancer
Grace the man-made firmament.

Although of a limited nature,
As compared to limitless night,
The saccharine starts above still dwarf
The giant American standard.

Walkways behind and between glass
Are discovered when a worker walks it;
A mundane addition to the
G.C. observation.

The milling movement of many
Remind me of ants near their hill.
Occasionally one sees a red jacket or green
In amongst the black drab.

Removed from Light on Wall Street and Front

Light streams from the North
With shadow all around.
Courtesy of a skyscraper.

The Old Blarney tenement
Stands as time's testament
To this City's history.

An anonymous tower
Shades fur-wearing women
Trudging back to their work.

This part of the city is removed
From sunshine and light
But for brief building reflections.

Tantalizingly close,
Where Wall Street ends
Lies the sunny river.

So far, though from the hearts
Of the people walking here
That it may as well be
Martian ice?

Greening of S.T. Dana

Gazing out the lab window
Across the gap
And through the other window
Sits Wendy.

Through emptiness
Of that cool gat
That filters downward light
Sit desks in offices.

An empty courtyard
Has become grown over
With soaring infrastructure
Of our second nature.

Back to airy naturalness
Of geen plant-filled gaps,
Soft corners of comfort,
And another tamed wilderness.

-- Can we, dare we, ever return?

21 Jan 2003

Why do I write in such a small journal? Is there a benefit to the reader and grader to squint and squeeze their eyes nearly shut to make out these chicken scratchings? Perhaps not. But for me, the writer, there are a few benefits for using this small journal. First, it is portable, fitting easily into my shirt pocket, making it easily accessible for inspired moments. Second, it is cheap, costing me nothing at all - being something my parents purchased for me at some time when we were living in Japan (notice the English diction printed on the cover*). Finally, the reuse makes any consumption of paper products more efficient; why buy new when I already have a suitable alternative? (This last point makes me wonder about the environmentally friendly aspect of e-mail over the written snail mail...) For these three reasons of accessibility, economy, and environmental efficiency, I ask the reader to please bear the burden of squinting.

[Grader comment: "No problem!"]

*This notebook is well bound with auto matic excellentic machine
makes you demonstrate your and pride.
Get acquainted with it, and you'll start a relationship that will last a lifetime.

21 Jan 2003

An article over the weekend was discussing the possible loss of Rev. King's message, with his icon being used to support and advertise a variety of goods, services, and ideologies. The same can happen to Earth Day. Although there isn't a singe person responsible for Earth Day, the message of environmental concern may be usurped by individuals and individuals within corporations to support what Aldo Leopold (or was it Arne Naess?) called "shallow ecology"? As more companies attempt to pursue "greener" policies, I wonder if previously obvious consumerism will be replaced by insidious consumerism of the "green" corporatism. The only hope one that this will not happen is the visual and written record of the environmental movement. It is the only way we have of relieving a past we were not personally a part of. The lessons we may learn of the consequences of MLK Day may be a helpful lens.

16 Jan 2003

Few buildings even on the North Campus are as dreary as Lorch Hall. I used to say that a university's wealth can be seen in its economics department's opulence. However, in the case of the University of Michigan, I wonder if this really holds true. Although it is a very grand structure, it seems as if built for giants; basketball players would even feel dwarfed walking down the oversized hallways. But it isn't the size itself that is dreary, but the attempts to enliven and modernize the innards of a building that seems to have been designed to revel in the richness of wood, stone, and metal. However, this richness of formed nature is covered with so much manufactured nonsense that what you are left with is not the opulence advertised in the exterior architecture, but a sort of communist inspired triumph of bland. Instead of filling the space with warmth and - admittedly "formed" - nature, hallways are painted painful shades of pastel creams, pistachio, and cappuccino brown. Instead of vaulted stone (or even plastered!) ceilings, there hang the ever-present, and always suffocating ceiling tiles; a painful leftover scar from a cheap retrofit. If the original architect were to see this structure now, what would he say? Would he wish he allowed for future retrofits to his original layout? Would he go stark raving mad? The Dana building is nearing the end of its makeover and green retrofit. Will someone say the same about it as I do about Lorch? Is it really important to use "green" products in a retrofit of the School of Natural Resources? And, really, who decided to use such vertigo-inducing materials for the bathroom stalls?