Laying in bed in my beautiful host home in Jalna, India, I awoke to the sounds of exotic birds singing, including peacocks that, to me, sounded like cats. I turned on the light and turned on the air conditioning-- it is above 90 degrees F, even in the morning! To my surprise there was a gecko, sitting on my wall next to a lanky old spider like they paid rent or something. As one of my friends suggested, I will have to ask the lizard for a discount on my car insurance as soon as he emerges from the folds of my curtains again.
I walked for the first time on my own to the office, arriving on time, which is five minutes early in Indian time. When someone finally did let me into the office, I found that I was matching one of my coworkers! This is rare event in America, but it is exponentially cooler that I was wearing a similar outfit to a coworker at a biology lab on the other side of the world.
I went home for lunch, but no one was in yet--it was just me and the housekeeper. I was waiting in the bedroom when she came running in, holding a bottle of eyedrops in her hand. She speaks zero English, and I can only guess that what she wanted was for me to speak to a man on the phone and tell him what kind of eyedrops they were. I told the men on the phone several times the brand name, the date, the ingredients even, but none of them could understand me, and I just hope that was actually what I was supposed to do in the first place! Either way, it was interesting to experience first hand what it’s like to have no language in common; the barrier was astonishing.
As I ate my lunch of “chital” and cluster beans, someone came to the door and rang the bell. Instead of the normal ding-dong, the bell was a mix of Bollywood theme songs. Apparently, all the buildings had been installed with them, but due to their annoyance and impracticality, everyone but this house had installed new ones.
Two of my coworkers have names that translate into words. My supervisor, Sheetal’s name means “cool.” So, every time I use the expression “that’s cool”, I turn and give her funny face. Another scientist at the lab’s name is “Mayur” (I spelled that phonetically). His name means “Peacock.” Everyone in my lab knows how much this nickname annoys him, so naturally they put me up to calling him that across the lab. Even he couldn’t help but smile as the whole group started to roar with laughter! I’m beginning to think these are really just high school kids like me, in adult bodies with Ph D’s. In fact, I sometimes catch my desk mates sneaking chocolates or using their internet time to shop for shoes or watches...despite the fact that almost no one wears heels or watch bands.
Two of my coworkers have names that translate into words. My supervisor, Sheetal’s name means “cool.” So, every time I use the expression “that’s cool”, I turn and give her funny face. Another scientist at the lab’s name is “Mayur” (I spelled that phonetically). His name means “Peacock.” Everyone in my lab knows how much this nickname annoys him, so naturally they put me up to calling him that across the lab. Even he couldn’t help but smile as the whole group started to roar with laughter! I’m beginning to think these are really just high school kids like me, in adult bodies with Ph D’s. In fact, I sometimes catch my desk mates sneaking chocolates or using their internet time to shop for shoes or watches...despite the fact that almost no one wears heels or watch bands.
Today I dawned my very own lab outfit, complete with a Mayhco lab coat and bright purple gloves. I felt extremely intelligent as I flaunted these accessories while I pipetted PCR mixture-- I guess I’m just that cool!
Today our PCR amplification didn’t show conclusive results, so we will have to do it again tomorrow. But I’m fine with that as I can now actually help during the process instead of just taking up space and looking over Sheetal’s shoulder.
Regardless, I’m having a great time, and I can’t wait to see what happens next during my journey here in India!
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