July 10, 2007

Same Song, Different Verse
To start off, I felt much better this morning when I woke up (thanks for the phone call, mom, love you!).  Sorry, I felt if anyone was worried about me, it would be my mom, as she said, "I will hold my breath until your plane lands."  Words of a great mom.

So, with that being said, I am physically and mentally drained of the day’s tasks (I'm really surprised I am even writing this email I'm so tired; but my fans need me, so I will push through it.)  All right, last night it was decided that I will have another project added to my agenda, a bio-sand filter: www.biosandfilter.org

It really is quite an amazing piece of ingenuity, as well as very simple to make. So, with the finishing touches needed for my rope pump, and the new task of finding the easiest and most inexpensive way to build the sand filter (since the villagers might want to build their own); Amos and I went shopping.  **I really don't like shopping, fyi**  But, alas, after four hours of driving around the city as a passenger on a motorcycle of which I got some really great first-person point-of-view video, I was exhausted.  But that is not really the basis of today’s blog.  

It turns out, roughly halfway around the world, the people here are the same as in my hometown of Richardson, the same as Texas, the same as America.  Sure, they dress differently, and live in a dissimilar house (a second family living above the owners), and the whole defecating in public thing; but they are the same as you and me.  I started to realize this when I was “working out” this morning. That's a tale for another day, but basically I use two resistance bands, the iron bars on my windows and a lot of creativity.

 Well, as I was doing tricep pull-downs, I saw out the window the family next door on their roof.  Thankfully my windows have tinting, because I was in my boxers while working out, but you probably didn't care to know that.  So, in comfort of my air-circulated (note, I did not use air-conditioned) and the windows closed, I was able to watch a father cut down coconuts for his three daughters, all under the age of ten by my estimate. Without hearing a word, not that I would be able to understand what they actually said, I noticed that actions speak louder than words and realized that I could interpret what they were saying.

They said the same thing a mother says to her children at the grocery store when picking out the extra sugar cereal.  The same thing a father tells his kid about his first baseball game.  Or, the same thing a soldier asks his wife to marry him just before he is shipped off.  That, this city, this country, this hemisphere or this world, all revolve around one main thing... love.  Whether it is love for the family unit, love of a job, or love of greed, or love of only oneself, everyone loves.  We are all human, we all have emotions, and a majority of US care for our loved ones, whatever that 'ones' being loved may be.  
  

Sure you can tell me there is war, protests, greed, poverty, etc ... but what are the reasons for these things?  I don't know, maybe I am getting too philosophical and I should talk more about my engineering, but, it's hard.  You know the song “Louis, Louis?”  Well, apparently, someone telling me about the original version said that the words today are not the same as they were when it was first written.  Well, with that in mind, we, the people of this world are all singing the same song, different verse ...er ...lyrics.  

July 9, 2007

Just a monkey and a smile...
So, today I woke up on the wrong side cot ... metaphorically speaking, of
course, because I only exit the cot on one side, since it is the opening of
my mosquito net ... but that's not the point.

The reason for the unhappy awakening is probably due to numerous factors
stemming from the sore throat, the restless sleep, the stuffing coming out
of my pillow, maybe the Malaria drugs, and quite possibly the continuing
feeling that there is so much in the world to "fix" with so little time.

Regardless of the aforementioned weights, I was able to rise with the sun,
well, a few hours later, and start my day; even if I did get out of my cot
on the wrong side.

Today was the first day that Joseph, the man in charge of the local NGO
(basically a non-profit) and our continued interpreter did not join us on
our travels to the villages. We needed to sample some water in one village
and install a "town light" for another. So, off on our travels with our
driver, Raul, blasting his favorite Indian pop music, and Amos, our
interpreter and friend to Raul, in the front and AnneMarie and I in the back
of an SUV to go and "save the world."

We arrived at the first village, only after the fun rollercoaster ride of an
SUV mixed with poor roads, with some problems. The head unit we were given
to reinstall was, contrary to the person who said it was fixed, not working.
So, after some tries to fix it with the limited tools I had, a Leatherman,
we decided to bring it back to the city and fix it.

Ok, so maybe this didn't help with me not feeling so well, and neither did
the sun. But, we kept "trucking" and drove to the next village, again,
another ride that should be added to Six Flags arsenal. At the village, we
took a sample of the water because there is a good possibility of high
levels of nitrate. These high levels of nitrate are mostly due to the hoards
of fertilizer dumped on the peanut farms. High nitrate levels can cause blue
baby syndrome, which affects the baby's ability to carry oxygen to the
lungs, and it is not good for pregnant women.

Well, we collected the water for tests, and while we were waiting by the
car, three little girls walked up and kept saying "Hi." Actually, if you
remember the movie Finding Nemo, with the birds chasing Nemo saying "Mine!
Mine!" repeatedly, these girls did the same thing, but with "Hi," and not as
annoying.

So, I pulled out my camera and asked to take a picture, they were all
standing there smiling and having fun. Then, I walked toward them to show
them their picture I just took and they ran away about 15 feet screaming.
It was like there was a huge monster behind me, but it was only visible to
children; but, AnneMarie said, "Maybe they thought you were going to kidnap
them?" Nonchalantly making this statement, she made me think of what these
people really think of "white people."

But, I was able to show one girl their pictures, and I gave them some
packaged crackers, and off they went. Then the girls came back at the same
time a group of boys stopped by, and I pulled out my camera again and
starting taking pictures. Seeing the children's smiles just makes me happy;
it gives me the feeling that, even though our world has its ups and downs,
there is always going to be the smile of a child.

Then, off we went back to Ongole, with some random villagers who asked for a
ride on the way; iy made part of the drive kind of cramped, but it is a
common gesture to give rides. On the drive back I had my eyes closed most of
the time; however, I opened them to see where we were, and on the side of
the highway, a group of small gray monkeys were 'just chillin.'

And, as I have stated before, my trip would be complete once I saw a kid
climb a tree for a coconut, and I get to see a monkey, much less five. It
made me happy once again, and now I am writing to tell that no matter what
side of the bed I wake up on, I got to see a wild monkey...

July 7, 2007

Fried and Double-Fried...
To stifle any chance of me contracting "Delhi Belly" again, my flatmate and
I have gone to one restaurant in town every day for the last week. The
restaurant 'KB' has been recommended by everyone we have spoken to in the
city of Ongole; so, naturally we took the locals' recommendation.

However, much like good old Umphrey Lee (SMU's main cafeteria), I have
become sick of this place ... not physically, but mentally. I need a change,
anything would do, just as long as there aren't flies hovering in every
room. Unfortunately, there are no other restaurants with this constraint;
even KB has its fair share of resident flies.

Oddly enough, I don't know why, after only two weeks of being here that I
would like a change of venue for eating out ... I mean, it took me about 3
years to finally tired of eating at U. Lee, and then they changed it around
and I love the place. Maybe it is because it is all the same food, which
happens to be all the same food in the entire city ... fried, or fried
twice.

When preparing for my travels, I was told that it would be rare to encounter
any meat, and I will be mostly eating vegetarian, which I was content with.
It turns out that 95% of the food, if cooked at all, is fried. This food
taste pretty darn good, from dosa to naan and rice to the assortments of
chicken and spices - the food is good, actually, great! But only for a shot
while. It is hard to work up that appetite for fried food 24/7.

**Don't worry mom, I also eat fruits, like mango and supota (sp)**

Regardless of the food choices, I can make do ... for those of you who know
me, I am not a picky eater. However, maybe my desire to find another
restaurant is due to the fact that, because of my flatmate being a girl, we
continually are given the "run-around" while walking into KB. Our first time
walking into the restaurant, we were told to go into a private room with
about 5 tables and air conditioning (thankfully) even though there were more
than enough tables in the main hall.

We figured, "Hey, quiet place where no one stares at us, and air
conditioning ... sweet." However, yesterday we entered KB and were quickly
removed to the "Family room." Apparently, this is where women are allowed
to eat, and just so happens to be the room with the largest "family" of
flies.

I'm sorry about that bit of complaining, but it is just so hot, and when you
wake up every morning sweating, you can understand why I might seem a bit
cranky. Nevertheless, I am a fighter and I really don't mind the whole
situation. Because I know by the end of the trip, I will have grown
immensely mentally and personally. I already know that I can occupy my time
without TV, movies, work, friends, family, a car, a nice bed, an assortment
of food, good smells, quiet times, fast internet, etc. It's not ideal, but
it is very 'do-able."

In the meantime I will write, read, help some villages with their water
situation, and sweat; and I'll have a good time doing it! Until next time
... to all my friends, family, and readers out there ... take care!

July 3, 2007

Something new
So, as it turns out, I have learned something new every day about the life and times of Ongole, India. Today was not any different, but the things I learned were quite interesting and I would like to share them with you ... the reader of my adventures.

Lesson 1
First, I have stated how crazy the traffic is with the modes of transportation being a rickshaw, 1950s mob-like car, walking, an oxen, and the most common, the cycle, either motorized or pedaled. Well, I have only experienced transportation with three or more wheels ... until today (mom, you probably won’t want to read this section).  

While acquiring parts for my side project, the rope-pump ( www.ropepump.com ), I was “fortunate” enough to travel by motorcycle, a Honda to be more specific. Just to remind you, traffic here is insane, with everyone minding their own agenda, and the traffic laws are probably not even known by a majority of the motorists. Therefore, a motorcycle is quite interesting, especially when sitting on the back, putting your life in the hands of someone I just met yesterday, as he is our “test drive” interpreter. Needless to say, he was able to understand most of what I said, except when I asked him to drive slow because I don’t have a helmet. It turns out they do wear helmets here, or at least one guy does.

Anyway, a motorcycle ride in the States to most people is probably thrilling because you can get on an open road and let go. Here in the packed streets of Ongole, I think thrill can easily be disguised as pure fright. However, I was much more calm once we came to a stop. It is very difficult holding onto a man, whom I don't really know, with my right hand and holding 6 feet of pvc pipe vertically in my left hand. Don't believe me, give it a try, then throw in a few thousand people who only care about their vehicle and don’t bother with care of laws.

Fortunately, I have not seen an accident in Ongole to date; unfortunately, when traveling about in the city, I have either been in control of my body with the use of my feet, or I can trust a rickshaw with partial coverage of my body in a cage of some sort. The unfortunate part of that little info, is that while sitting on the tail end of a motorcycle, riding higher than the driver, and being one of two white people in the entire city, people tend to stare ... while driving. Have you ever walked down a slightly narrow hallway and, when seeing someone in your line of path, you both did the little hat dance to see who goes left and who goes right?  Well, thankfully, every driver here never hat-dances; in fact, once a path is chosen, the opposing traffic knows exactly where you are going and they compensate ... unless something distracts them.  Cows? No.  Men urinating in sewers on the side of the street?  No.  Little Caucasian boy with a funny hat on?  Of course!  Thankfully, I believe my driver took this into consideration and paid extra caution, especially when he was going 45 km/hr on less than 100 m of road. Regardless, I am fine and the interpreter is a good guy.  

Lesson 2
Another thing I have learned, also pertaining to traffic, is that cows, oxen, water buffalo and any living object bigger then a rickshaw don't care if they are in the middle of a major road or in a trance sleeping in a pile of trash.  However, it turns out that, as I experienced tonight, if there is oncoming traffic and the bigger animal is standing still perpendicular to you,  they will turn their head ever so slightly to let you pass. Well, maybe not every large animal, maybe it was just this one because he experienced the pain of an oncoming bright light?  Nevertheless, it was a very entertaining experience.  

Lesson 3
  The last thing learned today (of major importance), is that people here pick their nose ... from the cab driver to the store clerk, people will pick their nose. Thankfully, I have not, nor will I ever partake in this little commonality in India, I just thought it was interesting.  I am not saying everyone does it; however, it is not taboo in any way.  Just like peeing on the side of the street.  Thankfully, every nose picker I have seen uses their left hand, which is the dirty hand, for those of you who did not know.  Why a dirty hand?  Well, you need one hand to eat and shake with, why not have one hand to do the 'other' stuff with?  I am sorry if that offends anyone, but these are just my observations ... until next time ...

July 2, 2007

The Village
So, I guess it would be a good time to actually start blogging about the work I am supposedly doing ... but there are just so many other things to talk about, such as people just randomly defecating in the streets, the whining of baby water buffalo waking me up at the crack-of-dawn because it can’t find its parents, or even the fact that everywhere I go, people stare at me as if I am wearing a Tuxedo in a McDonald’s on a Wednesday morning ... and I don't even like McDonald’s!  

But alas, it is time to get serious and talk about my work experiences so far; unfortunately, it is not as exciting (sorry for any disappointment to all of my enthralled readers).  
 
To start off, it is always awkward while arriving at the village. Why? Other than the people staring, we are given the “royal” treatment.  The finest golden plastic lawn chairs are placed underneath the largest shaded area, and we are given either a stomach altering “Limca” (Mountain Dew) or, like today, we were given coconut milk from coconuts a kid climbed 30 feet to the top of a palm tree to get, while being viciously attacked by the owners of the top of the tree ... crows.  

As I sat in my golden-coated, shaded relaxation chair, starting a new distaste for coconut milk, I realized that we only have a month left to build something, anything, just to show that the trip, and the money, were not in vain.  Things move slow around here, with good reason.  Who would want to work during the day when you are only 6.5 kilometers from the sun? Monsoon season ... that term is a myth as far as I'm concerned.  Now, Monsoon season in Texas during the summer ... that also seemed like a myth, but I guess I was wrong.

Regardless, we have decided that building 3 wash stations for a village of 35 families seems a bit overpronounced; therefore, we are going to start with one, complete the facility and get feedback from the villagers, which is a task all it own.  Actually, getting feedback from 99.99% of this area is pretty much useless, since only .01% speak English, and I'm including my teammates.  

Nevertheless, we took water samples today that will, hopefully, show low nitrate and microbial levels. How low ... how should I know? I am an electrical engineer! Actually, I did get a little side project today fixing some solar lights, or finding out the problem. But, I guess you could say I am doing “Field Engineering,” where nothing goes as planned.  But I believe that our facility will be of great use to the community.

But on a more serious note, before the village I just spoke about, we visited another village in the vicinity. It had more people, and fewer working pumps. I took many pictures of the entire site, and as soon as my internet stops moving at tortoise speed, I will upload them. In this village, there were many hand pumps, which are used for drinking water because they are closed to outside elements and come directly from the ground aquifer, but all but one were broken. Thankfully, in the villagers’ minds, almost every home has an open well; unfortunately, in an engineer’s mind, these are less than safe for any drinking usage.  

So, AnneMarie and I, she the Professional Engineer, decided that we would spend some of the money that was going toward one of the wash stations to replace and fix all broken pumps in this village. On the plus side, the villagers like the rope pump that I brought (see google search: rope pump), but again, these can only be used on open wells. However, if we fix the hand pumps for drinking water, and use a rope pump for all other uses, we will be able to put the village back into a safe environment.

Heh, I woke up this morning hoping the maid would finally do my laundry, and here I am trying to give a village safe drinking water. The villages are a different world, even when compared to the small city of Ongole, which is also a different world from most parts of the U.S. Wow, sorry about that bit of news, but you should all know about it ... and that thing about our maid, it was an adamant request of our landlords to hire her; and at 300 Rs. a month (less than 8$), she is more than worth it.  

Anyways, as I stated before, please let me know if you have any questions or comments. I would love to hear from everyone who reads this and let me know what you think.  I will add some pics as soon as possible, which might take a while, but have taken over 300, so I'm at least trying to show them to you.  In the meantime, peace ... and for those in North Texas, good luck finding an boat.

July 1, 2007

Call me (or write)
After waking from my Food-Induced Coma, I realized that more than two people might be reading this SMU blog, and if you would like to contact me you have three options.  I have just set up a gmail account for anyone who would like to contact me who does not know my email address or cell number.  You can contact me about anything, and since it’s gmail, I don't even care if it’s junkmail  **No junkmail please**  It is BryanInIndia@gmail.com. Clever, I know.  

Also, thanks to my dear friend Ali, you could also spend some money to hear my voice. Using a company called Amantel, you can use a prepaid service for a pretty cheap price.  I am not trying to advertise, but I know many of you miss talking to me -- well, now you can call me up!  In closing, I would like to thank my friend Ali for having his little adventure of his own in calling me at 5:30 in the morning, his time. Don't worry if that doesn’t make sense, it's an inside joke :)

June 30, 2007

A little party
After much discussion amongst my flatmates earlier in the week, we decided to throw a little party before two of them, Michael and Jenneli, were to leave on their three-week tour of India.

When inviting our landlord and his wife, Uncle and Auntie, there was a slight miscommunication, and he thought he needed to throw a party for just my flatmates and myself, only four of us. One hour before the party, I saw Uncle and asked if he was coming, and due to his broken English and my understanding of the Telugu language, roughly 0% with no margin of error, he was confused because I told him we invited about 15 people total, but he only made food for us and his family.

Needless to say, Uncle was upset and became more upset after the three glasses of whiskey and water, apparently a summer drink, because he cooked all this food and we bought enough food for 15 people. So, Michael and I did not eat the food we bought so we could eat Uncle's food.

Here is the kicker, at 9:30 Saturday night, my flatmates and I sit down for a traditional Indian meal, where the guests eat first and hosts eat after guests leave. I eat about three bowls of chicken snacks, thinking there will be just enough food to go around. It turns out they cooked enough food for, if I were to estimate conservatively, the entire city of Ongole!  

Now that Uncle is upset we haven’t eaten enough because of the food at the party (and becoming more inebriated), Auntie doesn’t speak any English and continually refills our plate as if she was on autopilot, and I have downed three bowls of spicy chicken snacks and three platefuls of chicken with rice and multiple sauces, I finally decide to wave the white flag, which my flatmates did about 45 min. prior.  I gave up, but only until Uncle was content with the amount of food I ate, which was still not completely satisfactory.  I bit the bullet and took one for the team so our landlords stay happy with us, my teammates ... er ... flatmates appreciated my efforts, and I won’t be able to eat for at least a fortnight.

My lesson to you, if you are going to eat a traditional Indian meal, in a traditional Indian house, keep with your tradition and only eat to your content, not to the content of a never-ending pile of rice.  
 Nevertheless, Uncle and I still watch Cricket, Auntie still randomly walks through our house to offer us food, and I have had my fill of starch for the millennia ...

June 28, 2007

Home sweet home
I’m sure some of you are wondering what my accommodations are like, so I will explain them until I can show you pictures. We, three flat mates and I, live in the two-story apartment above an elderly couple's humble abode. It is extremely nice and well built, with huge living room space and marble flooring everywhere. I don’t have any air conditioning, but we keep the windows open most of the time since they have elegant cage bars on them to protect from robbers. However, the people here are too honorable to break any laws such as stealing; they mostly don’t even accept too large of a tip (generally no more then 5-10%).  

The apartment has three bedrooms about the same size, all with a cot that is becoming more comfortable by the day (hey, I'm pretty adaptable).  Each bathroom is odd at first, but then makes much more sense. The flooring is all laminate with a sink, shower, foot wash, and western-style toilet (thankfully). The oddness comes into play since there are no partitions between the toilet, sink or shower; basically water can get anywhere in the bathroom from the shower, but it seems much easier to maintain, so I have no qualms. The showers have a moveable head and are only cold water, but, as my friend so thoughtfully informed me, the cold water will be a blessing since “you will only be six and a half miles from the sun.” (Thanks, Ali).  

That is basically our living quarters…any questions?  Oh, before I forget, if anyone wants me to get them anything from India, please email me, you should have my email if I know you J  Take care and stay cool, for my sake, please!  

June 27, 2007

The big dig
Yesterday, we drove to the village and started digging three wells, one for each water station. Once we decided on the placement of the wells, the villagers were able to use inexpensive techniques to start the hand drilling.  Upon me taking pictures of the groundbreaking drill and their skills used, they asked for me to help, so I stood on the platform to give extra weight for the drill. I could try to explain how it all worked, but I took some pictures and hopefully I will be able to send those instead.

They were very thankful that we were there to help them with such a basic need in life, and they treated us like honored guests.  Really they gave us chairs underneath the tree with a table and provided each of us with 'Limca' - kind of like Mountain Dew without all the caffeine.  OK, so we paid for the drink, but we were not expecting anything for them, plus the drink cost under a quarter.  

On Saturday, we will go back to test the water for any high toxins that would prevent us from using the wells. However, most of the area sits on top of a large aquifer about 30 feet under the earth, so we should be fine.

Driving on the highway back from the village was amazing and it was all thanks to the scenery – not the earth scenery, but the man made traffic.  Highway driving is less chaotic than city driving, but only because the roads are more open.  So let’s see, there was a tractor driving the wrong way on the opposite side of the road and was headed toward two busses (very action picture-esque).  There was more livestock and herding on the actual highway than cars - yes, I said on the highway, where there are cars, motorcycles, buses, rickshaws, tractors going the wrong way, and people randomly walking across the street; there were also scattered bicycles.

Then, once in the city of Ongole, it is much more hectic because the roads are smaller, there are more people randomly standing, sitting, walking, begging, and the livestock is not actually being directed, but just roaming freely! Then you throw a group of four Caucasians, two of whom are women, into the mix of street traffic, and everything is crazy because everyone only pays attention to you and not what they are doing.

Think I am joking? I don't think I have passed a single person who has not looked at us for less than 3 seconds, even the people we pass four times a day walking to and from our apartment still look at us like aliens. But, I don't blame them, because when we were ordering food at a restaurant, a Caucasian woman walked in, and we stared at her.  

Regardless how extreme everything must sound, I am still having a wonderful time. I had a couple of hours where I did have a case of 'Delhi Belly,' but my medicine saved the day. As far as complaints, it did smell a little today in the city, but that is probably because they have an open sewer system (yeah, pretty darn foul).  The food is amazing, but it is not as spicy as my friends' food back home, but probably because the waiters know we wouldn't be able to 'take the heat.' Regardless, I have been here for five days, and I have only spent about 25$ on three meals a day, taxi rides almost everywhere, water, and cell phone minutes; basically India is one huge Wal-Mart, but cheaper and has more people. Just to give you an idea, the average salary in India is 60,000 Rs, roughly $1,500.  Now you know why most things are outsourced to India.

June 25, 2007

Why I’m in Ongole, Paraksham District; Andhra Pradesh, India
I am sorry I have not written in a while, but, as scary as it sounds … I have fallen in love. Her name is Naan and she is a tasty treat. For those of you who are curious, laughing, crying (mom), don't worry, because Naan is the best thing that has happened to me in India…so far.

Served at any restaurant, Naan is fried, flat bread that kicks Matzoh Balls.  If any of you  have tried Naan back in the States, congratulations, it was sub-par…at best.  I don't think you understand, even if you have had it cooked in a traditional home, still no comparison (my apologies to those homes where I have had Naan, but I know you understand where I am coming from).

Sorry, that was a little too much info about my personal life, but please bear with me, I'm tired and I started sweating as soon as I got out of the shower, a cold shower at that. Regardless, I am having a great experience so far.

To give a brief synopsis, the traffic is insane, yet I have not seen an accident; the weather is swealtering, yet most people wear pants; and it has been very hard to send email even though there are at least 10 Internet cafes within 4 minutes. Unfortunately they are all at dial-up speed.

In a little more detail, the traffic is like playing a game of Frogger where no one stops at red lights, but amazingly I have not heard of any accidents.  The rickshaws are quite fun, if you are into roller-coasters of a ride with a driver who honks his horn more than he uses the brake. I have never seen more motorcycles/two-wheeled gas-powered autos, and I have not once seen a helmet.

As shown above the food is incredible, but I have been wary of the street vendors, most of the time.  As long as the food is heated and the stand is bustling, it's pretty safe.  My new favorite game is eating Mangos, because like the Naan, only in India will this stuff taste this good.  The weather is hot, but we are going to the village tomorrow for site assessment and well placement, and there is only one tree that gives any type of shade… which makes our project that much more desirable.
            
Sorry, but for those who do not know why I am in India, I guess it would be helpful to explain why I am here.  Well, did you ever see the Bollywood Movie "Operation @#$%@?"  No?  Good, don't see it, unless you know Telugu, and then I am sure you will enjoy it.  Sorry about the movie title, but that is the best definition I’ve got for the word, seriously.  

Anyways, I am here on a project with Engineers Without Borders - an international non-profit organization that provides help to communities in need, through use of professional and student engineers. We are working in a village of about 150 people to build three water catchment systems.  This is a tsunami reconstruction project to provide clean water for those in need through the use of ground aquifers, hand-bored wells, and rain water catchments (during monsoon season).  
            
Just before I go to bed in my mosquito-net-covered cot, I want to leave you with this little bit of irony.  Less than a week ago, I stood in my back yard with a hose cleaning the water filter for my pool; tomorrow I start construction for sanitary drinking water stations for a poor village of fishermen … makes you think…

June 22, 2007

Destination...not met, yet...
Ahh the woes of international travel.  Thankfully, I was fortunate to sit next to a nice "Brit" and we were able to converse about everything from politics to the African Swallow...well, maybe not that.  I am currently in Amsterdam awaiting next 9-hour flight to Hyderbad, India.  Just for advice, if anyone plans to travel to India or Amsterdam, I suggest Northwest Airlines, nwa.com - this isn't a plug, I just really enjoyed the accommodations.  I even got a 'special' meal as requested at time of purchase, which turns out to be better than the regular meals given.  Anyways, I have many emails to check and only 10 minutes left on my card.