I find that the further you push a task into the future, the harder it becomes to actually complete it.
This is most certainly the case with my blog. Between writing for the paper and sending friends and family extended updates of my progress, I have little time to spare to engage in the world of blogspot. Blogging is the easiest way to display my writing on a public scale without the help of the newspaper editors and it's for this reason I have little time to take part.
Editors are wonderful human beings. We 'journalists' (I'm not sure when the novelty of calling myself a journalist will wear thin) are enabled to bow our heads and attack the keyboard, littering our work with spelling mistakes and grammatical errors yet the next day it appears in the newspaper as a well thought out, coherent piece of writing. Fantastic.
But alas, as I lay down the impenetrable shield of the editors I will now allow the world to see my misuse of many aspects of the English language. From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of all obligations to use formality online. I am now my own master, total and absolute, and will list my actions in the form of - and then I did this, and then I did this, and then we did this, and then I did this.
And so to begin...
One month. I'm not sure how on earth I'm going to put one month in India into words. The honeymoon period is over and I'm beginning to feel slightly less like a tourist. Rickshaw drivers rip me off less frequently, waiters laugh at my order no more, and hotel receptionists no longer stare in utter disbelief at my complete miss-pronunciation of all words Tamil. I'm getting there.
My western clothes now wallow at the bottom of my backpack as I've donned the local cottons and silks and a journey that would take a local only fifteen minutes now only takes me half an hour rather than two hours.
More importantly, I'm getting a feel for what makes this wonderful country tick. India is known as the land of the heart and has it's own ethical and moral boundaries. It is a place of endless contradictions and challenges that push the mind to breaking point on a daily basis.
Chennai itself has a population of well over seven million - that's more than Greater London. People live on top of each other. Privacy is a rare delicacy that I no longer choose to think about. Thousands of bodies crammed into unthinkably small spaces combined with inescapable heat define the environment in the central business district. The city swallows you.
Every morning I step out of the shower, get dressed into fresh clothes and step out on the street to be immediately covered in a thin film of dust. A range of smells clog my nostrils. The roadside stalls cooking fresh fish with spices and fruit hit first but with the presence of a range of animal life wandering the streets; faeces, human sweat and petrol join the cocktail.
Suketu Mehta's 'Maximum City' provides a close description of life in an Indian City. More specifically Bombay. It's become a real travel companion and last night a specific quote lit a spark inside me:
"Each person's life is dominated by a central event, which shapes and distorts everything that comes after it"
I believe in the passing weeks this may cross my mind on an increasingly regular basis. Although this trip has yet to provide me with further direction to my life, I have found myself ruling out possibilities. I know already that eight months will not satisfy my thirst for travel. I know that four months will most certainly not satisfy my thirst for India. I'm only touching the surface and I love what I see.
I feel to gain a better perspective on how I feel it may be important to describe what I do here. I'm interning at 'The New Indian Express' - a newspaper that has taken rather radical changes in the last ten years. It's father paper 'The Indian Express' began in Chennai in 1932 and ran as a national paper until the death of the owner, Ramnath Goenka in 1999. Goenka's remaining family split the business into two separate entities. 'The Indian Express' is now based in Mumbai and covers the northern half of India, and 'The New Indian Express', still based in Chennai - covers the south.
The Hindu Times dominates the newspaper market in Southern India and so 'The Express' has to continually seek out a unique selling point. More recently it seems to be the youth among writers. 'The Express' prides itself on the ability to put a personal touch to their writing - A style that won't please all readers, but distinguishes all the same.
I'm currently writing for two of the newspaper's supplements - 'Indulge' & 'The City Express'. Without going into unnecessary detail; 'The City Express' is specific to Chennai. It covers local events etc. 'Indulge' is still fairly new and covers adventure, fashion and music. Again it's specific to Chennai so writing for both supplements has really given me a knowledge of the city it would have taken me months to gain simply backpacking.
My day begins at various times - depending on whether I wake up in time for breakfast. Breakfast is provided as part of my placement at a local bible college nearby the flat I share with five other interns. The college is run by an incredible women named Sophia. As my self confessed "Indian Mother" she offers anything I could ever need, whenever I may need it. Her responsibilities stretch beyond the college to an orphanage consisting of 160 children. The food usually consists of bread with a spicy gravy, eggs or spicy rice with a few heavy doses of organic Indian coffee. Simple but delicious.
Once finished I return to the flat, grab my notepad and camera and head into 'The Express' offices. It's around a five minute drive via rickshaw that should cost twenty rupees. I pay thirty. This isn't bad considering they usually charge westerners forty to fifty for that distance but my constant haggling has managed to get a few familiar drivers to give me a daily price.
Most travellers agree haggling over prices is one of the many beauties of travel. Problems occur when the process is repeated with the same faces everyday. Their constant attempts to rip me off often makes my patience wear thin and several times I've found myself shouting "And how much for an Indian?!" at the top of my voice.
Upon arrival at the office (around 11am) I type up any story I have outstanding and submit it for editing. As interns all stories are fairly light hearted. Without straying far from the entertainment or travel sections they only ever add up to around three hundred words. This has to be expected as an intern as I'm in the early career stages of 'paying my dues' where I will write anything to get my name in print. Experience is king so I'm simply looking to build a portfolio. All the same, it's fantastic seeing my work in the newspaper. I'm slowly building a relationship with the editors and have a few ideas for extended features so maybe with time opportunities to write the stories I'm passionate about may arise.
A man named Mr Babu runs 'The City Express' supplement and he doesn't grace the office with his presence until around 1pm. Pretty much all assignments go through him and so the competition for his attention is fairly hot.
More recently actual assignments have dried up. This means we now have to seek out our own stories which is proving to be testing. We're all still new in the city so it's tough to be the first to hear when new events occur.
Over the last fortnight I've been working on building an allegiance with 'The Indulge' supplement and they're using me as their adventure writer. This is a wonderful arrangement for me because it involves me taking days off to go trekking, rock climbing and exploring. All I have to do is write a short piece when I get back and I repeat the process. I also write their weekly 'Sound & Vision article. It's basically a page with a gadget based theme e.g The best musical instruments you can buy in the city, The top five high def T.Vs the city has to offer and so on. Once a week I'll catch a bus into the city and spend the day reviewing whatever it is the feature is based on. I make my own recommendations and try to sound a bit like a gadget guru. Again, it's not quite the journalism i've dreamt of but it's great to have my own page!
Time off is fairly flexible. I can leave on a Friday night and return Wednesday morning without causing any fuss. A lot of my work can be completed online so my attendance at the office isn't always required. So far I've managed to escape to Madurai, Pondicherry and Mahabalipuram in Tamil Nadu and Kochin and Munnar in Kerala. That's a fair distance in little over a month.
I'm going to move through a few radical changes of subjects as a conclusion now as I'm beginning to bore myself.
The food here is fantastic and terrible both at the same time. The Indians have perfected the art of simple, cheap, fresh food that's prepared and cooked well. Dosas are the most popular regional food in Tamil Nadu. They are salty, crispy, giant pancakes served with an array of spicy sauces and chutneys. I personally prefer masala dosas as they are stuffed with curried potatoes. Delicious.
This is marvellous. Difficulties occur when I wake up feeling as anyone would after eating curry for a week solid and all I want is a nice, bland bacon sandwich. More often than not, the best I can find is a sun dried, fly ridden samosa being sold by a farmer on the side of the road. There are no breaks from the culture in India. Once you arrive, you are here until you leave.
It's been a real joy to let myself be drawn into the laid-back travelling lifestyle I craved during my work before I left the UK. Last night I returned from the Munnar tea estates. At the station my train was delayed for three hours. A guy from Hawaii named Jason asked if I needed company and we chatted for the remaining hours before the train arrived. He had a flight booked the next day at 5pm for Calcutta where he would continue his travels. Upon meeting me he decided to "hang out" for a couple of days so he moved his flight back. It's now midday the following day and as I write Jason is sat on the next bed putting notes in my lonely planet on "awesome" places I should visit in South East Asia. In just one month it seems my adventures have only just begun.
Chennai itself has a population of well over seven million - that's more than Greater London. People live on top of each other. Privacy is a rare delicacy that I no longer choose to think about. Thousands of bodies crammed into unthinkably small spaces combined with inescapable heat define the environment in the central business district. The city swallows you.
Every morning I step out of the shower, get dressed into fresh clothes and step out on the street to be immediately covered in a thin film of dust. A range of smells clog my nostrils. The roadside stalls cooking fresh fish with spices and fruit hit first but with the presence of a range of animal life wandering the streets; faeces, human sweat and petrol join the cocktail.
Suketu Mehta's 'Maximum City' provides a close description of life in an Indian City. More specifically Bombay. It's become a real travel companion and last night a specific quote lit a spark inside me:
"Each person's life is dominated by a central event, which shapes and distorts everything that comes after it"
I believe in the passing weeks this may cross my mind on an increasingly regular basis. Although this trip has yet to provide me with further direction to my life, I have found myself ruling out possibilities. I know already that eight months will not satisfy my thirst for travel. I know that four months will most certainly not satisfy my thirst for India. I'm only touching the surface and I love what I see.
I feel to gain a better perspective on how I feel it may be important to describe what I do here. I'm interning at 'The New Indian Express' - a newspaper that has taken rather radical changes in the last ten years. It's father paper 'The Indian Express' began in Chennai in 1932 and ran as a national paper until the death of the owner, Ramnath Goenka in 1999. Goenka's remaining family split the business into two separate entities. 'The Indian Express' is now based in Mumbai and covers the northern half of India, and 'The New Indian Express', still based in Chennai - covers the south.
The Hindu Times dominates the newspaper market in Southern India and so 'The Express' has to continually seek out a unique selling point. More recently it seems to be the youth among writers. 'The Express' prides itself on the ability to put a personal touch to their writing - A style that won't please all readers, but distinguishes all the same.
I'm currently writing for two of the newspaper's supplements - 'Indulge' & 'The City Express'. Without going into unnecessary detail; 'The City Express' is specific to Chennai. It covers local events etc. 'Indulge' is still fairly new and covers adventure, fashion and music. Again it's specific to Chennai so writing for both supplements has really given me a knowledge of the city it would have taken me months to gain simply backpacking.
My day begins at various times - depending on whether I wake up in time for breakfast. Breakfast is provided as part of my placement at a local bible college nearby the flat I share with five other interns. The college is run by an incredible women named Sophia. As my self confessed "Indian Mother" she offers anything I could ever need, whenever I may need it. Her responsibilities stretch beyond the college to an orphanage consisting of 160 children. The food usually consists of bread with a spicy gravy, eggs or spicy rice with a few heavy doses of organic Indian coffee. Simple but delicious.
Once finished I return to the flat, grab my notepad and camera and head into 'The Express' offices. It's around a five minute drive via rickshaw that should cost twenty rupees. I pay thirty. This isn't bad considering they usually charge westerners forty to fifty for that distance but my constant haggling has managed to get a few familiar drivers to give me a daily price.
Most travellers agree haggling over prices is one of the many beauties of travel. Problems occur when the process is repeated with the same faces everyday. Their constant attempts to rip me off often makes my patience wear thin and several times I've found myself shouting "And how much for an Indian?!" at the top of my voice.
Upon arrival at the office (around 11am) I type up any story I have outstanding and submit it for editing. As interns all stories are fairly light hearted. Without straying far from the entertainment or travel sections they only ever add up to around three hundred words. This has to be expected as an intern as I'm in the early career stages of 'paying my dues' where I will write anything to get my name in print. Experience is king so I'm simply looking to build a portfolio. All the same, it's fantastic seeing my work in the newspaper. I'm slowly building a relationship with the editors and have a few ideas for extended features so maybe with time opportunities to write the stories I'm passionate about may arise.
A man named Mr Babu runs 'The City Express' supplement and he doesn't grace the office with his presence until around 1pm. Pretty much all assignments go through him and so the competition for his attention is fairly hot.
More recently actual assignments have dried up. This means we now have to seek out our own stories which is proving to be testing. We're all still new in the city so it's tough to be the first to hear when new events occur.
Over the last fortnight I've been working on building an allegiance with 'The Indulge' supplement and they're using me as their adventure writer. This is a wonderful arrangement for me because it involves me taking days off to go trekking, rock climbing and exploring. All I have to do is write a short piece when I get back and I repeat the process. I also write their weekly 'Sound & Vision article. It's basically a page with a gadget based theme e.g The best musical instruments you can buy in the city, The top five high def T.Vs the city has to offer and so on. Once a week I'll catch a bus into the city and spend the day reviewing whatever it is the feature is based on. I make my own recommendations and try to sound a bit like a gadget guru. Again, it's not quite the journalism i've dreamt of but it's great to have my own page!
Time off is fairly flexible. I can leave on a Friday night and return Wednesday morning without causing any fuss. A lot of my work can be completed online so my attendance at the office isn't always required. So far I've managed to escape to Madurai, Pondicherry and Mahabalipuram in Tamil Nadu and Kochin and Munnar in Kerala. That's a fair distance in little over a month.
I'm going to move through a few radical changes of subjects as a conclusion now as I'm beginning to bore myself.
The food here is fantastic and terrible both at the same time. The Indians have perfected the art of simple, cheap, fresh food that's prepared and cooked well. Dosas are the most popular regional food in Tamil Nadu. They are salty, crispy, giant pancakes served with an array of spicy sauces and chutneys. I personally prefer masala dosas as they are stuffed with curried potatoes. Delicious.
This is marvellous. Difficulties occur when I wake up feeling as anyone would after eating curry for a week solid and all I want is a nice, bland bacon sandwich. More often than not, the best I can find is a sun dried, fly ridden samosa being sold by a farmer on the side of the road. There are no breaks from the culture in India. Once you arrive, you are here until you leave.
It's been a real joy to let myself be drawn into the laid-back travelling lifestyle I craved during my work before I left the UK. Last night I returned from the Munnar tea estates. At the station my train was delayed for three hours. A guy from Hawaii named Jason asked if I needed company and we chatted for the remaining hours before the train arrived. He had a flight booked the next day at 5pm for Calcutta where he would continue his travels. Upon meeting me he decided to "hang out" for a couple of days so he moved his flight back. It's now midday the following day and as I write Jason is sat on the next bed putting notes in my lonely planet on "awesome" places I should visit in South East Asia. In just one month it seems my adventures have only just begun.
