Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Things I am learning working in Delhi's libraries

Indian innovation with the decimal point continues. You may have been told, at some point, that the decimal system, with its use of zeros as place holders, was developed here on the Subcontinent. What you may not know is that exciting innovations in number-punctuation-hybridization continue in India’s system of university libraries. Where each institution – and sometimes each collection – is busy developing an entirely unique ordinal system. These innovations are possible thanks to a willingness to use multiple decimal points, high variability in the length of alphabetical and numerical strings between punctuation marks, special capitalization systems, semi-colons, and even quotation marks. Allowing endless organizational variety, with each library’s ordering system as unique as a snowflake. The most advanced systems seem to be based on fractal mathematics, containing as they do a persuasive suggestion of repetition and regularity while, in actuality, not corresponding to any pattern discernable through the use of primitive Euclidean mathematical tools.

My high school library was kind of a joke. I find the contents of the University of Delhi’s library, in particular, rather discouraging. Because they seem to be pretty short on the kind of sources that contain the sort of raw, complete information that is the straw for research brick making. Instead, the library is long on the kind of sources that give predigested and massively abridged summaries of various concepts. So, for example, the library only has a scattering of the annual reports of most government offices, but they have whole bunches of encyclopedias and Ready Reference guides.

What this all really took me back to is the days of writing research papers in grade school and high school – when research really meant looking up what somebody else already came up with. (Real research, of course, is writing what somebody else already came up with; realizing this only after-the-fact; and then inventing a reason why what you’ve done is, despite appearances, totally new). And it just sort of reminded me of all the things I thought were terribly intellectual when I was growing up – like Star Trek (watched by nerds = smart people = people who would know great art). Ah, youth!

Sometimes the best place to study Indian linguistic minorities is Dixie. Ironically, you know who has a complete run of the government report I was trying to find at University of Delhi? Johns Hopkins. That makes me feel very foolish.

Dust is dirt. In movies about searching out the secret to Jesus’s progeny or the Temple of the Crescent Moon, dusty libraries always have a powdery sort of look. A character pulls out an obscure book and blow on it, sending forth a grayish cloud of accumulated matter.

This is NOT how really dusty books actually work, at least not here. This dust is not some talcum powdering of antiquarian charm. This is grime. Blowing on this dust dislodges nothing. Though one’s hands and clothing (and backpack and school supplies and lunch) do become dirty when put in contact with such a book, the total quantity of muck on the book is only imperceptibly altered and much of the text remains obscured by brown film.

The great unsung heroes of the history of human knowledge are the indexers. Honestly, I don’t know how anyone ever found anything before electronic search. But what few scraps of information were retrieved in those dark times was thanks to the superhuman tolerance for boredom and/or crippling struggle with obsessive compulsive disorder of the press clippers, the book review filers, the bibliography annotators, and the reference editors of yesteryear.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Kathmandu and back again

Last weekend I was in Nepal with my parents, sharing the last three days of their package tour through India. I was really looking forward to a couple days of five star living, and to seeing the mountains. Ironically, however, I caught a terrible bug from being in a hotel with so many darn foreigners. So for the better part of this last week I was in bed with the flu, wondering why I ever abandoned my sub-tropical, filth-infested home for the bracing mountain air.

One thing I have learned: it is impossible to overstress the importance of travel companions with a similar metabolic rate. That is, the tour group we joined up with was mostly empty nesters and, as a consequence, they have reach that stage where you totally transcend base physical needs, food in particular. So the tour included breakfast at the hotel but then no rations for the next 8 hours! Despite my best efforts to get a muesli binge in early, I was starting to get a little peckish by our second Hindu temple and was practically fainting away by the time we were given free time to wander through an authentic Nepali traditional tourist emporium.

From what I could see through the haze of near starvation, Nepal has plenty of interesting architecture and is generally more approachable than India. All of the temples were very busy, which is not the case in Delhi. We saw several little boys on the way to get their sacred thread tied on—which is sort of like first communion for upper caste Hindus, except with a parade. The parade includes people carrying all the things that will be offered to the gods on your behalf, culminating in the sacrifice of an animal. Which I was very anxious not to have to witness.

Also, there has been a shortage of petrol and kerosene for about seven months now in Nepal. Apparently, this was because the Indian government started refusing to let tankers travel through its territory en route to Nepal because Kathmandu owes the Indians money for petroleum shipping. The finances seem to have been sorted out, so oil was supposed to be on its way. But a city between the India/Nepal border and Kathmandu had hijacked two tankers in the preceding days to force them to deliver oil to their community rather than driving it all the way to the capital. So now no more truckers were going to come into Nepal without a security escort.

The visible consequence of this was huge lines of cars and motorcycles for blocks & blocks. The vehicles were left in line to hold a spot for however many days or weeks necessary. Similarly plastic kerosene containers were lined up on the sidewalk, hundreds in a row. Ropes were run through the handles of twenty or so jugs, to discourage scrambling of the order. Also, my sister and I saw some kids burning tires while taking a taxis. They weren’t being very hardcore about it, but that is still a personal first for me – seeing tires being burned in protest of something, I mean.

The Himalayas are amazing. While I might in years past have felt very unhardcore & tacky flying in a little plane to get a view of the mountain peaks, I was spared these thoughts by the many recent books on the Everest climbing industry (eg). There were a bunch of trekkers on their way to Base Camp actually. Yuppie scum - seriously, why even bother climbing a mountain if you are going to have Sherpas and oxygen. (I am starting to feel a bit defensive about how long its been since I've done any cardio.)

The temple square in Kathmandu.

A shrine in use as a vegetable stand.