day one at JSA

Yesterday the jet lag hit me like a ton of bricks. I woke up at 4:30 in the morning, wide awake and laid in bed staring at the ceiling, willing myself to go back to sleep. Eventually, I rolled out and stepped out onto my balcony. Cars were already zooming by, the chaos of Indian traffic just beginning. I devoured the book “Cutting for Stone” for a few hours by the light of sunrise until it was a decent hour to go downstairs and eat breakfast-Cornflakes with creamy, sweet milk. Not like the kind that you get at home.

Jessie, from the office came to pick me up in an auto rickshaw about an hour later. She is a plump Indian woman with a large bindi and reminds me of a mother hen. Someone in the office called her “my adopted guardian.” I suppose that is right.

The neighborhood around my office is nothing less than swanky. Around the corner is a three story marble shopping mall filled with stores like Louis Vuitton and Jimmy Choo. Upstairs there are quaint cafes, of which I’m sure I’ll end up spending most of my time in. There is a salon nearby that looks NYC-worthy, and Range Rovers cruise around amongst the rickshaws. It’s nothing that I would have imagined.

My firm is located on the second floor of a large, glass building. A Tyson Food corporation is on the first floor. I can tell that this agency is immaculate for Indian standards, although it pales in comparison to the glamorous downtown firms in US cities. You walk in and two receptionists greet you (one is Jessie). My cubicle is right outside of the Senior Partner’s corner office which looks out onto the hustle and bustle below. I realize I didn’t even need to bring my laptop because there is a computer here provided for me. The legal library on our floor is run-down and filled with texts that look extremely outdated. I wonder if the law is still relevant.

My first assignment was to edit down a presentation on cross-cultural negotiation tactics into a 3,000-3,500 word article, suitable for a US audience. I was immediately struck by how many politically incorrect references there are and the lack of citations. Different standards I suppose. I started on it at about 10:00 and by 1:00 I was starving and starting to get tired and had just cracked the surface.

I went to lunch with a few other interns. One is a girl from the Netherlands named Feline. She’s tall, lanky and absolutely stunning. The way she converses with the locals reminds me that she’s been here for 4 months already. She has a relaxed demeanor and makes me feel like a deer in the headlights. I suppose by the time I leave, I’ll feel more comfortable, but for now, everything is new and different.

We ate at a small café called Mocha. I demolished a Thai Satay Panini and bottled water. Nothing has ever tasted so good. By then, I truly felt like I was ready for bed. But by the time I got back to the office it was only 2:00 and I still had to finish my assignment. Apparently, in this office you have to finish all of your work before you leave. There is nothing that can be left unfinished for the next day. So often, interns stay late into the night in order to finish up. I am not looking forward to those nights.

I left the office at about 7:00 and spent about 40 minutes in a rainstorm trying to find an auto rickshaw to take me home. Apparently they are hard to come by in this part of town. By the time I walked through the front door of my home, I was drenched, had a sore throat from the pollution and was ready to collapse. So this is what being a grown-up is all about?!

Dinner consisted of idli, a rice cake smothered in a spicy Indian curry sauce. It was delicious. And my host-mama made me a salad…sensing that I was in need of something fresh and not-so-spicy.

I went upstairs after dinner and collapsed on my bed. Day one. Check.


peace. love. sleep.