Our Star

Well, our kitten is famous. Not only is she famous, but she has made into the latest issue of one of the most prestigious science journals in the world, Nature (which, by the way, my work has not made it even close to making it into this journal and my kitten makes it in after only about 2 and a half months of life, some people have all the luck). Mira, the several billion-year old star (not to be confused with our kitten) has recently been found to have a 13 light-year long tail, and is the first star ever discovered to have any such appendage. You can read more about it at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/6947607.stm or if you are a physicist, you can read the article at http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v448/n7155/full/nature06003.html (I could barely make it past the abstract). I think that I see a resemblance, though our Mira is much cuter. The list of similarites between the star and the kitten is growing:

1. Our Mira can probably give the star a run for its money when it comes to gas emissions.

2. Both have tails (okay one is 13 light years, but since when does size matter?).

3. Both move very quickly, the star at 80 miles per second, and our furball can't be far behind.

4. Both leave in their wake plenty of destruction and waste.

5. Both continue to astound scientists, one captivates an entire field of physicists, the other mesmerizes just one, me.

Pb or Not Pb? That is the question.

I grew up during the 80s in the age of Atari and Nintendo so I only risked rotting my brain. So thankfully (or regrettably) I missed out on the earlier era that had chemistry sets that allowed you to make gun power or military grade C4. Also I missed out on the toy guns and weapons that could take down low flying aircraft. It is actually amazing that the US did not suffer negative population growth after the 60s and 70s because most children should have been killed off due to mishaps with "Easy Bake Ovens" and "Lawn Darts". Maybe DARPA secretly had a deal with manufactures such as Mattel and Whammo for training children to fight the Soviets or maybe it was a huge Fascist social Darwin experiment.



The latest Mattel recall of nine million Lead (chemical symbol Pb for all you non-chemists) based toys has started me thinking about the various deathtraps passed off as children's toys during my parents era. I really don't see what the big deal is. So what if Lead causes nephropathy and dementia. Nietzsche once said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." Of course he suffered from dementia and later died of pneumonia but hey you can't win 'em all. Lead really can't be any worse than what was found in "Shrinky Dinks" or "Super Elastic Bubble Plastic" right? Also weren't Tonka Trucks just big blocks of Lead with wheels? People are over-reacting to this latest Pb based toy scare. Hell, its not like our government and corporations are exposing us to something really dangerous like Mercury or something. Those of us with kids should just calm down, grab a nice plate of salmon or tuna and watch the little ones play with their "Silly Pants Elmo" and "Ernie Lightup Musical Pal". Why is it that the Ernie toys are chocked full of Lead but the Bert toys are Pb-free? Aren't they supposedly a couple ... of guys living together?



Let's save our outrage for when Mattel dips into their archives and re-releases the "Mattel Agent Zero M Sonic Blaster 5530". Because then we all will know that DARPA is at it again trying to training our youth to fight the new Commies - Al Qaeda.



Oh, if you haven't heard or seen the "Mattel Agent Zero M Sonic Blaster 5530" then you will be happy to know that the toy can emit a blast of compressed air that produces a 157dB sound wave capable of rupturing and causing permanent damage to the ear drums of adults and the kid using it. I attached a picture of a kid holding one. He is probably about to take down a flock of geese or maybe a twin engine Cessna.



And no that is not a joke or doctored picture. You can still buy this TMD (Toy of Mass Destruction), "Mint In Box", on Ebay for the Buy It Now Price of $2495.

Independence Day

The Indian civilization has been on this earth for over 3,500 years but today it celebrates only its 60th birthday. August 15 is the day that India gained her independence from Britain, and became a sovereign nation. The story of the journey to Indian independence is a dramatic one and, like any good story, filled with interesting characters as well as a great deal of tragedy. I have been reading a very good book called “Freedom at Midnight” which documents the enormous undertaking that was Indian Independence. Unlike our independence, India’s was not won at gunpoint, but was rather earned in greatest part by the non-violent efforts of Gandhi which wore down British rule the way that water will eventually wear down even the hardest of stone. Of course the Freedom Fighters and politicians like Nehru and others were also critical in Indian independence, but by all accounts that I have read, independence would not have come to India without the great Gandhi Ji.



I think that I will tell a bit of the story of Indian independence because it is such an interesting story, and one that if it hadn’t actually happened, would be the stuff of fiction. The story is very long and complex, and I certainly can’t do it justice here, but I wanted to share just a taste, especially about the partition of India, which certainly is on the mind of all Indians as they celebrate their Independence, because it came at such a high cost.



In 1947, the British had finally submitted to India’s cry for Independence, and appointed a new Viceroy and Governor-General of India, Lord Louis Mountbatten, to oversee Indian independence and work with the Indian politicians to sort out the details of the hand-over of power. The Muslim League, a political party in India, led by the very shrewd Jinnah, saw the impending departure of the British as the perfect opportunity to demand that a separate Muslim state be carved from India. Jinnah argued to Mountbatten that the Hindu majority in India would persecute its Muslim minority after the British withdrew, and in effect issued an ultimatum that the British could partition India into two states, one Hindu and the other Muslim, or else India would erupt in a violent civil war and Britain would leave behind an India in flames. Jinnah claimed that India would be “divided or destroyed.” The atmosphere in parts of India was very volatile and the British felt a great deal of pressure to withdraw quickly in the hopes that their departure would quell some of the violence that was whipping through parts of the country (riots during the Muslim League’s Direct Action Day of August 1946 in Calcutta resulted in over 5000 deaths in just a single day). The British had little choice but to submit to The Muslim League’s demand for an independent Muslim state so it was decided that each of the 565 princely states that made up India at the time would choose which country to join, either India or Pakistan. Those states whose princes failed to choose either country or chose a country at odds with their majority religion, such as Kashmir, became the subject of much dispute. Kashmir was eventually annexed by India, but India and Pakistan continue to do battle over this idyllic piece of earth as a result of the poor decision of one prince. The result of partition was the division of the Punjab, the Northwest section of India, into two halves, the western-most part became West Pakistan and the eastern section became the western border of India. Additionally, in the east of India, Bengal was to also be divided into two, with the eastern-most section becoming East Pakistan and the western section becoming India’s eastern border. So Pakistan, as Palestine is today, was a country with discontinuous borders, the two halves separated by the massive India. This is, of course, an untenable situation and East Pakistan eventually declared its independence from Pakistan and after the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War, became what is today known as Bangladesh.



At midnight between August 14 (Pakistan’s Independence Day) and August 15 (India’s Independence Day) both countries were freed from British rule. There was little time for jubilation as those individuals who found themselves within a country that they did not wish to live began a mass migration where 14.5 million people crossed the borders to what they hoped was the relative safety of religious majority. Based on a 1951 Census of displaced persons, 7,226,000 Muslims went to Pakistan from India while 7,249,000 Hindus and Sikhs moved to India from Pakistan immediately after partition. The newly formed governments were completely unequipped to deal with migrations of such staggering magnitude, and massive violence and slaughter occurred on both sides of the border. Estimates of the number of deaths range around roughly 500,000, with low estimates at 200,000 and high estimates at 1,000,000.



Okay, now time for the color commentary. First of all, the idea that one country could almost completely withdraw from another after about 350 years of occupation within the span of a few months is flabbergasting. Additionally, not only did the British have to hand over power and withdraw in only 2 months, they also had to oversee the separation of said country into two parts (three really when you consider that Pakistan was geographically split in two). That means that every single thing that India possessed had to be divided, as fairly as possible, between the two countries: her army, her treasury, her government, even the inkwells in her government offices has to be divvied up. And all in two months’ time. It must have been mad. There is much debate to this day concerning Partition, those in India generally feel very strongly that the British made a terrible decision in submitting to Jinnah’s demands. Additionally, it is thought that they are largely responsible for the debacle following Partition due to their haste in leaving and thus left the business of public order up to the two fledgling governments which were ill prepared to deal with the migration and violence. Others would argue that India and Pakistan wanted the British out as soon as possible without considering the implications that it might have on the ability to enforce law and order and that the British felt that their presence in India was fanning the flames of Hindu/Muslim violence (sound familiar anyone?). My personal feeling is that the British were between the proverbial rock and hard place. I feel that the similarities between the British presence in India and the U.S. presence in Iraq are a little sickening. As in, why is it that we cannot learn from history? The British would not have found themselves in such a terrible position if they had never involved themselves in Indian affairs to begin with. They became so entrenched in the country that they could not effectively extricate themselves when it became apparent that their presence was no longer welcome (not that it ever really was). And now the story is playing out again in Iraq, and if we believe that America will be remembered lovingly by Iraqis when Iraq’s Independence Day rolls around, I just think of how the Indians remember England on their day of Independence and I am not so convinced.



Happy Independence Day India.

Visa, it’s everywhere you want to be, except in India.

For those of you that aren’t extremely familiar with international travel, one typically is required to obtain a visa from the country to which you are planning to travel, think of it as a permission slip from the host country. As Americans, we are very lucky that our government has made agreements with many other foreign countries which allow us to forgo this process. We rarely even consider the possibility that we might need a visa to enter a country since we don’t often need one. However, when entering a country for purposes other than tourism, most (if not all) countries require that the individual obtain a work visa. In the case of our move to India, I was required to get a work visa, and Eric got what is known as an X visa, in his case a co-terminus visa as he is joining his employed spouse in India. Some of you might remember how much I complained about what a pain in the butt getting these visas were, we were turned away the first time because they claimed at the Indian Consulate that we were applying prematurely and to come back closer to the date of our departure. We went back and again waited in a long line, but were approved and told to return the next day to pick up the visas, which we did. In retrospect, I am not sure why I thought at the time that this was such a pain. Knowing what I know now, I should have kissed the guy who approved us and handed us our visas the very next day. That was last October, and our visas are valid only for a year, so they are up for renewal.



Another lovely aspect of the visa process is registration. When we arrived in Bangalore, within seven days of landing, I had to go through a process known as registration. This involves driving to the Police Commissioner’s office near downtown Bangalore (read: hellish traffic) with a ton of paperwork proving who I am, why I am here, etc. The particular pleasure of this process is that you are operating in an information blackout. The application form is not available on-line, nor is the list of paperwork that needs to accompany your application. To obtain both of these you have to actually brave the traffic and pick them up (by the way, they change the application form and list of paperwork at random, and very frequently such that you can not just get the information from friends and/or colleagues that have gone through the process before you). Only after getting these forms and collecting your stack of papers can you go to the office to get registered. I would also like to mention at this point that I have no idea what registration is actually FOR. Are they worried that foreigners are more criminally inclined than their Indian brethren and should thus have a record at the police station before we get into any trouble? Is it for our own safety (doubtful). I am not sure. Anyway, back to registration. So you travel down to the Police Commissioner’s office again, only to find that they want additional information that is not included on the list of required supporting documents. For instance, when I went through this heartwarming process the first time (accompanied by 2 Indians from my institute to “smooth” the process, i.e., assure that bribes were not solicited by the officials) I had assembled all of the paperwork on the list, including letters from my institute stating my purpose for being in India and stating that I was financed by my institute. These documents were signed by an administrator at the NCBS. When I tried to submit my documents for registration, the official gleefully turned me away because I had not brought proof of this official’s Indian-ness. No joke. I guess that I was supposed to know that I needed not only copies of my passport, but of the passport of anyone who signed any document that I needed as proof of my legitimacy. So we had to come back to get copies of this fellow’s passport (actually his Internal Revenue Card, I think this is sort of like a Social Security card) and then brave traffic a third time. They accepted my documents and told me to pick up my registration the next day. Cool, mission accomplished, it only took four trips to get it done (this also works out to 2 days off work as each trip takes a half day minimum mostly due to traffic and waiting in line).



So when it came to getting our visas renewed, I have no idea why I thought that doing it in India would be a good idea. A friend of mine from France had advised that we just leave the country and have it renewed while there (don’t ask me why it is easier to renew a visa for one country in a different country) but I wanted to be a good worker and didn’t want to take time off. So, when Eric was able to get a day off, we set out with 2 NCBS representatives to begin the renewal process, 90 days prior to expiration, as instructed. I had assembled all of the forms that I could imagine but we did not have the application form or the list of required documents (remember, these can only be found at the Police Commissioner’s office). We picked up the application form and the list, and found that there were a bunch of things that we didn’t have and also didn’t know what they were. Anyway, they did start to process the forms, and I received a slip of paper that I was told to take to the local police station where I live (god knows why). We also had to go to a bank to pay the fee for renewal and get a receipt indicating such. When we got to the bank I realized that they had only processed my forms, not Eric’s as well. I was pretty worked up about this as Eric’s visa expires the same day as mine so his really needed to be renewed as well. So after paying my fee, we went back to the Police Commissioner’s office to inquire about Eric. Well, they said that my visa needed to be dealt with first and only then could we worry about Eric. This makes absolutely no sense, one would actually think that it would be much more efficient to process them together since Eric’s visa is dependant on mine. Whatever, I do not think that there is even a word for efficiency here. So we went off to the police station to drop off my form, where Eric and I parted company and he made his way home. He had already wasted half of his day unnecessarily, why waste any more? So I went into the police station and waited while some schmuck sat around until he was ready to talk to us (any public official that has even an iota of power loves to abuse it and throw it in your face given the opportunity). He looked at the form and asked for passport photos (these are a must have here, even to get a SIM card for a cell phone you have to hand over a couple of photos, so it is just best to carry some with you at all times) and a copy of our rental agreement. Of course I didn’t have a copy of our apartment rental agreement with me, why would I? It wasn’t on the list of paperwork that I needed and I certainly had no idea that I would end up in my local police station that day so why would I bring it? So I told them that I would drop it off since I walk by the station every night on my way home from the gym. Uhhh, nope, dropping by after 5 PM wouldn’t work as it was too late (I actually walk by the station around 8 PM, so that was definitely out of the question) and dropping it around 7:30 AM when we drive by in the morning was too early. It does not inspire great confidence when you find that your local police station is not a 24-hour enterprise. God help you if you are attacked outside of normal business hours (which, by the way are around 10-5 with a two hour lunch break from 12-2, this is for I think all government offices). Anyway, this guy then grabs a police officer and says that he is coming with me to my house. WHAT!!! So we head off to my apartment, apparently so that the police officer can verify that I live where I say I live and so that the people from whom we rent can attest that we live there and aren’t axe murderers (like they would even know, maybe we are silent killers). We pull up and I get out of the van with the police officer and Eric comes to the door and asks, “Why are the police here!?” I didn’t even know so I told him to not bother even asking. So he spoke to our landlady for a bit (during which time I took the opportunity to go up to our apartment and say hi to the kittens and use the restroom). When I came to my door, the policeman was standing there and asked if he could look in. What the hell for????? Anyway, he peeked in and said, “Nice.” If we get robbed in the near future, I will have a pretty good idea who is behind it… Back to NCBS to get the remaining paperwork on the list.



Two days later we were back at it again, heading down to the Police Commissioner’s office to submit my documents and to inquire about when we can start the process for Eric. Earlier in the day I had spoken to my French friend and told him that the visa renewal process was underway and told him of my adventure a few days before. He went on to tell me that he had actually tried to renew from India in October, and had yet to receive the renewal (even after 10 months!) and had decided to just go out of country to get it done. He also told me of the only other foreign post-doc that he knew of that had also tried this and received the extension only after many months (more than the 90 days that they claim) and in the meantime could only exit the country with permission, but could not re-enter, effectively preventing his exit from India). So I was very worried, but I went anyway. I met with the visa official and he went through my documents, and, with pleasure said that he couldn’t accept them as I had not included proof of the Indian identity of the administrator that had signed off on my paperwork. With equal, or perhaps greater pleasure, I whipped out of another stack of papers that I had brought (just in case), the proof that he wanted. I wasn’t going to get screwed again, I had learned my lesson from the registration process. He still got me though, he wanted copies, and I had only an original so I had to run across the street and make copies, but at least I didn’t have to go back to the NCBS this time. So after he accepted my papers I asked when I could expect to receive my renewal. “Oh, about a month and a half” he said. I was not convinced and asked how would I know if it had come. He said that I just needed to stop by the Police Commissioner’s office to check. Oh, how convenient! I asked if there were some phone number that I could call to see if it had arrived so that I didn’t waste a trip if it wasn’t there. “Oh, just come and see’” he said. He then said that maybe I should ask this other fellow in the next building when I took to him a form that needed to be submitted. So I went and asked him, and he told me that the other guy would know since it is he who receives the visas. I told him that the other guy sent me to him, so if the other guy was the one who was to receive my visa and he doesn’t even know it, that I am pretty confident that I am screwed. He laughed and I informed him that I was not making a joke, I did not believe that I would ever receive my renewed visa if it were left up to these idiots.



So I also inquired about Eric’s visa renewal and was told that he first had to register (he hadn’t because his visa, unlike mine, didn’t require it and as he saw how frustrating it was for me to do it, he smartly opted out). Fine, he has to register first. I went and asked at the information desk if I could please get the application form and list of supporting documents so that we could get him registered. The fellow asked who was registering and I told him my husband was. He asked to see his passport (which I didn’t carry) and I asked why, all I wanted was 2 pieces of paper. What purpose could it possibly serve to check passports just to hand out 2 pieces of paper? Do they think that they are handing over state secrets, maybe the codes for their nukes? The guy told me something ridiculous about the paper being imported and expensive (by the way the paper is of less quality than my toilet paper) and I screamed at him if the paper is so expensive, I can just pay him for it!!! I lost it at that point. That is exactly what I mean by an information blackout. They make it nearly impossible to know what to do and make everything as difficult as possible. It is particularly frustrating because we are here trying to do some good, and we are treated like criminals or potential terrorists.



I was very angry and upset and my Indian escort (who I have now become convinced are actually handlers that are meant to pull angry Westerners off of Indian officials when they are pushed to their breaking point) tried to comfort me by telling me that getting visas are difficult anywhere and I informed him that I got my Indian visa in one day in the US (so shut it). I burst into tears and called Eric and told him as much as I could. I made it back to work where I related the day’s events to my lab mates, and then to my boss and NCBS administrators. My frustration was mainly that I did not (and still do not) believe that my visa will come in a month and a half, I do not believe that it will come even before it expires (end of Oct.). If I have to wait for mine to come before applying for Eric’s, then his will definitely not come before it expires, and most likely would not even come before we come home for Christmas (Dec. 19, we already have the plane ticket). This means that we would not be able to re-enter India. And Eric’s renewal is, of course, contingent on Eric registering. After the experience that I had, I told my boss and the administrators that we were absolutely NOT going to register Eric. I have had enough of this crap to last me a lifetime, and I am NEVER going to willingly subject either Eric or myself to it EVER AGAIN. I told them that we were going to leave the country to get his visa renewed, if mine actually comes before we go to take care of his, wonderful, but if not I will reapply for renewal out of country. I also told them that we are leaving India in December for the U.S., and if we are not able to re-enter India because the government cannot get it together, then so be it. We, by that time, will have done all that we can do, we can only do so much.



So, to make a long story short, by trying to save time by renewing our visas in India I actually wasted a whole day and will have to leave anyway to get anything accomplished. The upside is that Eric and I are going to Thailand to renew our visas (it is supposedly the best place for renewing Indian visas). We plan to spend a day in Bangkok to turn in our visa renewals before flying to Phuket to lounge on the beach for a week. After this experience, we deserve it and I also hope to have a few drinks and put it all behind me (hopefully the tsunamis will stay away while we are there, wouldn’t that just be a perfect ending to this story, Suzi and Eric get swept away trying to renew their visas because they couldn’t get it done in India). We will then head back to Bangkok for a couple more days to see the sights and pick up our renewed visas (hopefully, or we will be on an plane back to the US)! There are a couple of upsides to this debacle; I have always wanted to go to Thailand and we are very excited to have the perfect excuse to go. We are hoping to take advantage of the sex trade there, it supposed to be the best in the world (just kidding, I don’t want this blog to be flagged for elicit content). Finally, the other positive thing that has come from this experience is that I have learned my lesson, you cannot get anything done in India, and I vow that I will never try to again.