Bengali Follies

The cyber cafe is pumping the putrid Shakira song "Hips Don't Lie" so loudly that it's difficult to even THINK. It's strange sitting in my parents' hometown of Kolkata, thousands of miles across the world from Clark University, enduring that heavy, pulsating Reggaeton beat. I feel like I'm back in Worcester illin' in the Puerto Rican barrio I like to call home. It is a tad nostalgiac--makes me long for Vietnamese lunch specials and the 24-hour convenience of Price Chopper.

Anyway, the monsoon has begun! I should know, as I was quite literally caught up in it yesterday. The ominous cracking of thunder and insane downpour began exactly at 2:14pm Kolkata time yesterday, 16 minutes before my meeting at Durbar and just as I was emerging from the subway. I felt a bit smug. I had thoughtfully packed an umbrella and I knew my way around. A hapless Thai tourist reinforced my swagger as she asked me directions to some monument. 40 minutes later, as I trudged aimlessly through ankle-deep monsoon poo water, utterly unable to understand the directions people were giving me, my bubble was burst. On the verge of tears, I somehow found the Durbar office. It was the wrong branch, however, and one of the annoyed Didis (sisters) had to walk me all the way to the right one.

My meeting went well. I was shocked to be greeted by three, upper middle class men rather than the committee of tough, sari-clad women sex workers I was expecting. I was drenched and no one offered me tea (?!?) or asked about 'Merica. They were all business. Pleasant and helpful, but obviously very busy. There was no chit-chat or joking around like there would have been in Bangladesh. They were concerned about my language skills and the ethical considerations for my research proposal. I assured them I had covered both bases and agreed to provide them with a brief document outlining my skills, qualifications, and proposed research on Monday when I officially start. I'll be doing "field activities" for the next two weeks, getting exposure to Durbar's range of programs (from a banking cooperative to cultural programs to health care). I'm excited, but I sense that working in India is going to be very different that working in the 'Desh.

I feel a bit insecure about my Bengali language abilities lately. Something about being in a country where most people I'll work with speak English fluently deepens my fears of inadequacy. There, there Tanya. You'll be fine. Oh yeah? Here's some "empirical evidence" of my Bengali Follies:

What I meant to say: I was scared then, but now I am brave!
What I actually said: I was scared then, but now I am a pirate ship!

What I meant to say: (To Taxi driver) Do you have any change?
What I actually said: (To Taxi driver) Do you have any pumpkins?

What I meant to say: I have become very lazy.
What I actually said: I have become very pineapple.

Sigh. Maybe I should have stuck to Espanol. Donde estan mis pantalones?

-TKP
South Asia Linguist Extraordinaire