A li'll mourning and a li'll gloating...

As I write this, Steve Jobs has died and there is a general lull or what I want to call a sense of disbelief. And no, this is in no way a tribute or any such thing to the creative genius. Theres plenty out there already. It’s just a reflection on a country that’s about 235 years old (yes?) and has front-lined great innovations and established a first-world defined by its achievements. Yes, I know its not Utopia. So hold your horses and there’s no need to get hot and bothered with all its current problems, the state of the economy, healthcare and what have you!  I was told that the news of Jobs’ demise was carefully announced after the stock market closed- I’m not sure to what extent this is true, but if it were true, that just struck me as unique and interesting. It got me thinking of how much one is tied down by a series of numbers and percentages largely driven by fear factor, that it dictates how and when one mourns the loss of someone great. Someone just died and the first and most instinctive thing most people would have done or at least thought about is to check the stock market.

These are just observations, and its interesting when you come from a country such as mine (India), and who’s history dates back to some 3000 years (I’m not too much into fact checking and love to round up, but feel free to knock yourself out!). It’s like having two TV screens in front of me watching how the young gets old and the old is now getting young – more precisely put…the US is now getting on in years and grappling with imminent issues, when my country is pushing the envelope each day and breaking barriers built by tradition, culture and paving the way for something great to break through each day.

And now a li'll gloating...

I recently landed a great job and finally got that elusive work permit that has haunted me forever! For all you international students out there, you know the elated feeling and the sense of relief when you hear the news! For those of you who are still struggling, don’t for a moment let those naysayers who feed on your insecurities get anywhere close to you! I recently learned loud and clear that if people are mocking you (and then there are those who don’t have the kahunas to tell you to your face), have issues with who you are and what you do, it certainly means you’re on the right track! As long as you are willing to put yourself out there and pick yourself up and go back out there again, I guarantee you’ll be able to stick it to them someday...and SOON! And while I can't say it myself, I'll let the picture say it.

How about that dream job...?

If being an international student and trying to survive life in a foreign land was not challenging enough, bam! you get hit in the face with the reality of finding internships and jobs. And this is where it gets real ugly.

My mantra during my graduate degree program was "networking, networking, networking"! And no, I'm not gloating. It got me squat and nowhere! As my fellow international students and I made our way through these "mixers" and "networking nights" we found that it was just a meeting place  (and I'm dying to call it a breeding ground) of young working adults who can't wait to max out their corporate credit cards on the wine & beer at these events, and they were practically useless when it came to giving some strategic guidance to young and ambitious kids attending these events.

I later got involved in professional clubs with fellow students and that seemed to be great experience and made good talking points at interviews. Still, you can't take away the frustration that comes with every job interview. I can say I interviewed with some pretty "well known folks" in town..apparently they missed the bus on basic ethics and etiquette that requires them to respond to an email and at least let you know they've moved on with another candidate. I guess its experiences like these that tell you that all this  hype on professionalism etc. is all a load of rubbish!

Internships and first jobs are interesting to say the least! If you don't land your dream job, at the very least you'll come away with a world of experience and hilarious stories to share with your buddies ( you couldn't crack a smile out of me back then, but looking back it was pretty funny).

I'm not going to preach to you about the right thing to do when looking for jobs etc. because you've heard it too many times already. All I can tell you is that its a s*** show out there so while you're at it, and you're trying really hard, you might as well make some good memories out of it!

A silly question is one that hasn’t been asked yet…

I recently met an international student who was bewildered at ‘class participation’ points that universities have…and you'll agree I'm sure that its a general feeling of discomfort having to ask a question in a class full of people.  So this post is specifically targeted for international students who come to the US to study – or if this is true for you elsewhere in the world…then this ones for you too!

One thing I learned at university here, and I’m glad I did, is that ‘no question is a silly question except for the one that hasn’t been asked yet’. I don’t know about you, but where I grew up, asking questions was chalked up to you being silly or “un-intelligent” or downright rude for interrupting the teacher/professor… BS!! And when I started school here in San Francisco, it took me a while to ask questions without worrying if people would think of me as completely stupid. But over time, I started asking questions…any questions- even those to which I knew the answer.

If you’re going to school here in SF...you can take comfort in knowing that there will be many others just like you and me - with expressions similar to a deer caught in headlights.  And know that almost all the time, people are grateful to you for asking that silly and obvious question because those that sit tight pretending to be Mr./Ms. know-it-all are the ones that are relieved you asked the question!

Not every thing is hunky dory. In fact there’s a lot to whine about and what follows is one of my pet peeves. I hate how people can’t string a sentence without using words and verbal crutches such as “like” a million times! I’m famous for checking and re-checking every conversation I have with a person, because by the end of the meeting, I’m still trying to figure out the point of that conversation!! Not to forget, I come off as a complete fool for my persistent need to decipher the few words buried in all those “Like” or scrambling to understand if a person says “Man he is sick!”  do they mean it in the real sense of the word (should I be sending this ‘sick’ man a get-well-soon card?) or is this Californian for something totally different. Hrrmmph!

Sometimes speaking English is not enough, you need to speak Californian to get around!

Living San Francisco

Colorful victorian homes in San Francisco

I like to think this city has a charm of its own. And by that I mean you won’t see haute couture on the streets “Sex and the City” style or run into some celebrity or one-hit wonder making a coffee run at Starbucks. I do apologize if I offended any Hollywood lovers...but if you’re looking to meet a TV star or celebrity, you may well be disappointed. To me, this city is way cooler than all that.

Instead, you might see a sports car convertible cruising down the street with a handsome dog in the passenger seat with his ears flapping in the wind (and yes the dogs’ wearing Giants schwag), a happy pedestrian with his pet cockatoo on his shoulder, or on the last Friday of the month hundreds of bicyclists form a ‘critical mass’ and ride through the city and a romantic valentines day means a killer hike up the mountains.

This is a city where intelligence meets intelligence with respect, where people carve their own identity outside of pop culture and OWN IT and you will most likely find yourself in the elevator with the CEO of Google or other great minds that actually rule the world but you really don’t know it! I believe this is also the city Anthony Bourdain came to with a mission- the mission to find fault with the San Franciscans’ but resigned to fact that he couldn’t find anything wrong in a city where the food is good and the people are nice! (Watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-tT4hWQkfM).

This is not the city of wannabe’s. It’s the city where quinoa has taken over regular pasta, and where people will head to the museum after a long days work for some wine and cheese and dance among sea horses and Claude the alligator. For me, it’s also the city of two of my favorite people…Mrs. Doubtfire AND Robin Williams J.

San Francisco’s Got Your Back

This happened last week. My husband and I were at Safeway raiding the wine and cheese isle for what promised to be a fun weekend ahead of us!

I found myself being railed at by someone who just decided that fine morning that he didn’t like me, my nationality and Mahatma Gandhi. By the time we got to the check-out counter (and I say ‘we’ because this person followed me to make sure I heard him) the cashier and the customers around us stood up for me one hundred percent making it clear that such discrimination was unacceptable. 

This was my first ever such experience in the six years that I have lived in this city. I’m not trying to highlight the ugliness of the incident…but really more the spirit of the city and its people who contribute to a culture that looks beyond someone’s religion, color or bank balance. And as an immigrant – you can take comfort in knowing that this city’s always got your back.

Honestly, after living here for 6 years now, I pick my battles…I’ve realized that sometimes people need to vent and you need to stand on the sidelines with your head down feeling grateful for all the good things in life. But as an international student, an immigrant and a person living in todays times in one of the most liberal cities in the world, I can tell you this much – I don’t for a single moment feel the need to tolerate someone else’s discriminating attitude towards me - be it based on color, money or religion. You'd think that if a Rottweiler, Cat and a Mouse can learn to get along, so can we!

Hope you enjoy San Francisco as much as I do!

Lotika

The Vacuum Cleaner

The lady who owned and lived in the 'international house' I stayed in when I first moved to San Francisco required us kids to do our chores, write up a list of everything we've done or not done around the house and slip it under her door. She seemed exceptionally motivated towards making sure that my friend Nitin (also moved from India around the same time) and I cleaned up after ourselves and made sure we understood that "Your mom's not here" or "In the US this is how we do things!" For the life of me I had no idea why she kept telling us that. Over the course of the first few weeks in San Francisco, I learned that apparently some of us Indian kids have a reputation of being pampered and spoiled and folks think we don't lift a finger in our homes back in India.

Frankly, I was willing to fight that notion tooth and nail till she handed me the Vacuum cleaner. I had no clue what to do with this piece of equipment and I was hopeful that when Nitin got back from school we'd be able to figure this out together. I was wrong again - the two of us cut a sorry and laughable picture staring at that vacuum cleaner. But eventually, thanks to Andrea, one of the housemates from Italy helped us figure out the vacuum cleaner, the washing machine, and also warned me to stay away from raccoons. "They may look cute but they're not as social as you are" he said. As you can imagine, I learned very quickly that raccoons do not like to be disturbed when they're rummaging through the trash.

I moved three times in two months. I was introduced to Craigslist and went house hunting for affordable rooms. I learned of 'in-law' units and went to one open house  which was a garage converted to a one-bed unit. There was no front door to the unit-it was the garage door/shutter. Of course, I didn't sign up for that house but it was an experience etched in my mind for ever.

From the international house in the Panhandle, I then got a room in another old Victorian behind University of San Francisco. I gave my notice to move out exactly 24 hours after I had moved in (never mind the details) and then onto another apartment with a housemate who had the compulsive need to deep clean the place at 3 AM. He would pick up all the long hair that was on the floor - after sifting through it to make sure he made no mistake...place it neatly on a paper towel and leave it by my door with a post-it note!

I'm certainly not insinuating that this is the case with every international student or students who move from India...this was just my experience. But today, as I vacuum my apartment, mop the floor, cook for my family and do the dishes, I am so grateful to our lovely landlady for taking it upon herself to coach me on these essential life skills and more so grateful to all those who help us in our homes every day!

As always, you live and learn!

Lotika

Newbie

It was January of 2005. I was 'one week old' in the United States. I wasn't prepared for this. Once I was all settled in my new "room" in a beautiful sunny Victorian in the Panhandle district, I was out and about meeting people and having conversations... I was always asked the inevitable : "When did you learn to speak English, you just got here"? "So do you have elephants walking down your streets?" and many more questions.


Now, coming from a pretty stringent school system in India where penmanship is as important as your math skills, and where you were required to stand in front of a class of 50 kids and recite "I wandered lonely as a cloud..." by Wordsworth, I wasn't prepared with an answer on why I could speak English.

Coming from a background and culture where being as polite as possible is inherent in our upbringing I still don't know how to tell people with a straight face that we don't have elephants walking down the streets...but we do have over a billion people and traffic congestion-elephants are the last thing we need on our streets! The question about elephants was only second best to "oh so can you walk to Srilanka?"

So many more crisp, cool mornings with the smell of freshly lit weed in the air ( I said I lived by the Panhandle, in case you missed it :-) These were some of my first and very interesting experiences that have over the years unfolded into beautiful and pleasant memories of lovely San Francisco.

I will try to keep my posts short and sweet- I'm sure the Twitter generation will appreciate it :-) Other fellow immigrants, do share with me some of your earliest recollections.

Thanks for reading!

Lotika