Month: July 2019

How absolutely ridiculous is it that a whole week has passed already.

The sun sets on Cessy only around 9:30pm every evening. Although it’s super bright outside when I return from work around 7pm, I’m usually spent and I end up pretty much crashing after cooking/eating dinner and checking my e-mails/catching up on work. I guess it’s because I’m still slowly settling in, but I’ve found it difficult to do any of the personal work I had set aside for when I got to Europe. I do think that’ll get better next week. Or I’ll have to get up a little earlier to finish off work. Being at home, I had got into a very comfortable routine to get my stuff done. The change in location has made things a little tougher, I have to admit. That’s also likely because I’m doing work-work and personal-work. At home I just slept.

Today, work ended early, so I decided to use the opportunity to roam around old Geneva. The water here is actually aquamarine, which I find ridiculous. I wish I could paint what I saw, but all I can do is take photos – and I’m not fully willing to put up photos of mine on this blog just as yet. Maybe next year. I also finally visited the Allee des Nations, and the Broken Chair, and took my first trip in the tram.

Some real firsts were accomplished today.

My dad has thought of the most thoughtful thing for my time in Switzerland so I’m really hoping to execute what he’s thought of before I leave.

It’s the weekend too. What a delight.

Being here is pretty amazing.

Today I got to listen to the President of the International Court of Justice deliver a speech about the ICJ and it’s relationship with the Committee I’m working in. After which I got to meet him and take a photo with him. And the meeting wasn’t a hi-hello meeting. It was a proper conversation.

Sometimes I feel the need to pinch myself.

Also, I’ve found a show to get hooked onto – so this month is going to be really fun now.

Food is expensive here. I’m surprised at that, but I think maybe it’s not too expensive given the earning capacity here? Maybe I’ll only be able to tell if I ever earn in Euros or Swiss Francs.

Today, we had the opportunity to listen to someone cool in committee. I also began my agenda of networking with people and took the initiative to meet someone I fanboy hard about. These people are so normal, it’s amazing.

Today, work was fun.

What was more fun was the evening after work though. I got the chance to spend some time with my friends’ parents, whom I’ve not properly spent time with or interacted with – although we’re from the same city and I’ve had numerous invitations prior. I had a really, really fun evening, and I got to eat my first ice-cream of the European summer.

We also did grocery shopping, because in addition to what’s available closeby, I didn’t really pick up much else – and we’ve slowly started to settle in. That’s something that I’ve been quite pleasantly surprised by. This is my first time rooming with her, and we’ve gotten so comfortable with each others’ schedules and routines – and spaces. We’re able to give each other ample space to get things done, which I am very happy with.

Work is obviously a lot of fun. This internship is something I’ve been keen on doing since I heard about it in the first year of law school, and it’s a role I sort of want to think about pursuing in the long run. The opportunity to evaluate that possibility from up-close, without shouldering the burden of being the main person in charge is something I cherish today.

I’m actually at the United Nations. Holy moly.

See, I’m going to get over this feeling in a day. I know it. I’m not going to have a first day at the United Nations internship again. But that feeling of wow, this is where I’ve wanted to be since I was in Grade 9? That’s literally all I can think about.

I had to stand in a massive security-accreditation line to get my ID Card – something I’m hoping I don’t have to go through every day. That was something I was impressed by too, though. This place is literally so crazy that people might need to go through security every single day.

Anyway, I hung out at the library, got myself familiarized with the entire space, met the person under whom I’m working, sat through a session with an earpiece because translations might be needed. And met the people I’ll be working with for the next month.

Honestly, it sounds super duper drab. But I’ll contextualize this for you so you might get a sense of how I’m feeling.

You see, after I relocated to India from Dubai, I was a very whatever person. I got bullied a lot, I was smaller than most kids height-wise, but chubbier than them width-wise. I didn’t really have a great, fixed friends circle. I was a nerd. I enjoyed academic activities more than anything else. I liked reading, writing, and public speaking – all activities the social circles in school had placed at the bottom of the food chain. In Grade 9 though, these activities and skillsets appeared to come together when I was introduced to Model United Nations. My school wasn’t an old city school. We were one of those new breed, international schools.In Bangalore, this makes a massive difference to your interaction with the entire city – because the school you go to is an indicator of so much. (apparently).

So we didn’t really have anyone who was established in this whole Model United Nations business. I remember we had a teacher from another school come and take sessions for us on what the activity was and prepare us for what we ought to be doing and what we ought to avoid. My seniors at school were good – so they set up a conference to train us. But once they left, there was this void that rendered my batchmate and I the seniormost MUNners at school. Today, when we look back, people talk about how overrated MUNning was, and how thinking of MUNners as cool people was a false notion – because it merely tested your confidence in your speaking skills, rather than much else. But that’s what the circuit became. Being a MUNner was a lot of work. For our school, it meant we got developing countries which were not instantly in winnable positions – because of how global history has shaped today’s global order, and how the interschool MUN circuit was based on power rankings. We were also really bad and lost consistently. But I remember being so enamoured with the United Nations as an organization when I was younger. To think that I’m here now, and I have the opportunity to work with the organization?

I’m lucky.

My days of adventure have officially begun. I don’t mind counting yesterday, to be honest – because my only goal for this trip is to make the most of every single day I am given on this continent. I’m here for five weeks, but on the calendar it looks like a month. It’s super intriguing, but I’ll take all the time I’ve got.

This morning my AirBNB host told me that the stores shut at 12:30 on Sundays. I quickly had breakfast (yes, I’ll be cooking all my meals here, so I can eat pretty much only the things I have the capacity to make), and borrowed her cycle so I could go to the close by supermarket – the one away from our town, on the highway. So I genuinely cycled along the French countryside, on a proper racing-style cycle. Which was the closest I fell to being a Tour De France cyclist – and the closest I ever want to feel. I didn’t speed. My biggest challenge, honestly, was to stay on the correct side of the road. I did a pretty okay job of things, and got the shopping done.

I spent the rest of the day cooking lunch: I made dal!, and waiting for my friend to arrive. We unpacked, and to our contentment, we’ve discovered that we have enough space to ensure we don’t have to live out of our suitcase for the next five weeks, as we initially imagined we might have to do. The house is small, area wise, but storage wise, we’re all good. We spoke about routines and everything – which I imagine might be a challenge over the next few weeks, but only time will really tell.

I’m exhausted. Time to recharge for the most exciting first week ever.

So, I’m in France! I’ve made it! Je suis arrivé.

I’ve had the wildest 24 hours, honestly.

SwissAir is really, really good. I landed in Zurich without too much trouble at all. And the food was pretty yum: a nice little cheese quiche, and a pretty good breakfast platter. I had to clear passport control at Zurich itself, since it was my first entry point into Europe. That went through pretty smoothly, and then I had 3 hours to explore Zurich airport. The only big observation I had was how relaxed the Europeans are when they travel. They don’t hang out at the boarding gate an hour before departure. They come when they need to, and leave when they must.

That’s my first impression.

Landing in Geneva was something else entirely. I used my time at the airport to figure out what all free perks I was entitled to the minute I landed – internet, travel, and the like, and then figured out my monthly bus pass. That was my first use of French on this trip – very rusty, but pretty decent (per my assessment). It began raining as I waited for the bus, and I arrived in Cessy to a pretty bad storm.

Soon though, the skies cleared, and I set off to do some exploring and understand my bearings.

A little bit of background for all the readers of this blog. I’n doing an internship in Geneva, and I’m staying with one of my college friends in Cessy, a quaint little town in France. It’s right across the border, a 40 minute commute one-way, and it’s got a direct bus. More than much else, what attracted us to this lifestyle was that it was literally half the cost, accommodation-wise atleast. I shall now resume my narration of the day.

Cessy is ridiculously pretty. It’s the stereotypical French countryside town. There are fields, lots of agricultural property, cute, cozy villas and cottages, and a view of the mountains. The roads are narrow, and steep in some parts. There’s only one supermarket, one tabac, one boulangerie, one pharmacy in the town. The rest is a walk away, or a cycle ride away. There’s a separate cycling lane. Everyone in the town seems to know each other, and everyone is friendly.

I took two trips walking around town today. The first was to see what all I had access to and what timings were like. I got home, researched on things I needed: SIM card and the like, and then took a second trip to actually complete transactions I needed to complete. The first time I went, I was a little hesitant to speak French. I’m not sure why, but I felt a little bit of fear come over me. I think it’s because the only context in which I’ve spoken French fluently before is the examination context. I was horrible at speaking exams. I knew all the words, and I knew my answers, but something would come over me and I’d get nervous and whatnot. My French teacher, who is one of the kindest people I know, used to do all sorts of things to calm me down. I had pep talks, and anti-pep talks. I had the promise of rewards, high-fives after exams, and even comedy about how my exams had gone. It was nuts. But the second time I went around town, to actually buy stuff, I put to use what I knew. That was a proud feeling.

I can’t believe I’m getting a month of this. After studying French for what, 14 years almost. I still remember how I picked up the language. In Grade 1, we got a circular attached to our diary, which required our parents to tick a box next to the language we wished to learn. I asked a friend in class and I ticked French, getting the circular home for my parents to sign. They were a little shocked because they assumed I’d learn Hindi, but I went the other way and put up a bit of a fight to ensure they didn’t take the language away from me.

It’s given me some of my happiest, warmest memories in school. To be able to take those and apply them in the real world is something I’m privileged to have the opportunity to do when I’m still fairly young. Maybe one day I’ll have native level fluency.

For now, I’m happy with my pain au chocolat.

I’m writing this from Terminal 1 of the Dubai International Airport.

I don’t really have a backstory to give you about this place. I usually departed and arrived into Terminal 2 of the Airport when I flew to and from India. All I really remembered of Terminal 1 was that it was for the markets that weren’t as in demand as the other routes. But offlate, Terminal 1 has become home. That’s largely facilitated by the fact that they’ve completed a massive revamp of the place, while retaining a lot of the old architectural elements – including a footbridge, that on the exterior, looks the exact same as it did back in 2001 (which is where my first real memories of Terminal 1 kick-in). It’s become home because I’m familiar with it. And traveling out of Terminal 1 doesn’t feel like too much of a downgrade from Terminal 3 – as it used to in the past.

I’m flying off to Switzerland alone today. It’s my first solo trip to another continent – I’ve usually just flown alone in Asia. It’s a trip I am equal parts excited, and equal parts nervous about. There’s a lot of excitement because of the opportunity this presents, as I’ll be working with an organization I’ve admired for several years, in the company of individuals I’ve begun to admire over the last few years. There’s nervous energy, not because of the fear of doing something incorrectly, but rather at the possibility of not utilizing this time to the fullest. I don’t see that being an issue, so it’s not something I’m fretting too much about.

By this time tomorrow, I’ll be dozing off in the south of France. I didn’t think I’d ever say that sentence. It sounds like a dream, honestly – especially that I’ve studied French. I’m looking forward to speaking the language everyday. All those years of figuring out how to pronounce the accents properly, all the tense correction exercises – hopefully they’ll pay off.

Today though, I don’t think it could’ve gone any better. It’s the most relaxed I’ve been before a flight. Everything was packed, barring the food items – which my mom expertly prepped and kept ready. My dad helped me rearrange stuff. I took decisions quickly. I chilled on my laptop. Dad and I watched cricket. It was a really pleasant day. My favourite part of the day was at the airport. I know my parents are proud of me. They tell me that frequently enough. But today, I saw something that meant so much more. I was walking toward the check-in area for SwissAir (it’s my first time flying), and I sort of left my handbag with them, to keep, while I checked-in. The check-in queue had the queue management tapes on, and there wasn’t really much space ahead. While I meandered through that, I looked back at my parents because I wanted to see if they were following me or not, and I saw my dad squeeze my mum in a semi-hug, both of them with the largest smiles I’ve seen in a while.

They had traveled around various parts of Europe: individually, and together. We did some parts as a family, me included. Except I have very, very faint memories of that. Their trips individually took them to the Netherlands, to France, and to Belgium – among several other countries. As a couple, I know they’ve been to Italy (I can still taste limoncello chocolates from Capri), and I’m sure they’ve been other places too.

I think it really hit them that I was going to experience that now. And create my own memories in those very same places.

That look they shared was something I really want to frame someday.

So it’s official. I’ve got two days left in Dubai.

I know I keep saying “today has been fun” on this blog. And granted, perhaps it’s getting repetitive for you to read. But honestly, it’s difficult to use other adjectives to describe a genuinely chilled-out, fun kinda day. Today has been fun, and I’m absolutely glad it was.

After a bit of rescheduling, I managed to meet a fitness goal. After that I went and caught up with a really close childhood friend of mine, and his father. That entire family has been a very integral part of my life as I grew up. We grew up as neighbours – living in the same apartment complex and going to the same school. This basically meant that we spent our entire day together. Same car route, same route back, same classes, same portions, same cricket coaching. Same friends circle at school, and the same one at home.

He was the closest neighbourhood friend I had. The fact that he lived literally right below my house made things a lot easier. His was the first house I visited daily, when I wanted to check what we were doing that evening. His was the house I stayed at when my parents wanted to be out late. His was the house our house keys were always at – so I could collect them when I came home from school, and then when I came back from playing in the evening. I knew his family – his grandparents, his cousins, his caretaker, and he knew mine. There was a simple familiarity to our relationship, one I was very pleased to note hadn’t changed over the years. This is despite the fact that we now only meet once in 2 years, perhaps – and only wish each other for our birthdays.

I spent the rest of the evening in my mum’s high school classmates’ house. When she first told me about the invite, I was keen to go, but didn’t expect I would enjoy the evening as much as I did. The food was excellent, and the company was marvelous – across the age groups.

Time to enjoy one last sleep in Dubai.

I did things that would help me relax today. It’s the middle of the week that I’m scheduled to leave for Europe, and I know that the work is really going to pick up once I’m there. Might as well make the most of my time at home and get pampered when I can, right?

I finished watching Modern Family Season 10.

I ate pav.

I slept.

I read.

I’m a happy man.

You know how I waxed eloquent about shorts during Global Poetry Writing Month?

It recently occurred to me that I’ve owned this one pair of brown shorts for about 6-7 years now. And I continue to find them immensely comfortable. While that means I’m always happy in a pair of shorts, it isn’t excellent for the style factor of things. There are people in college I know who have seen me in those shorts since I was 15. Which is now very long ago. And slightly odd.

So I took the bold decision of buying new shorts.

And now I own a pastel pink pair.

That is all.

Spending time with your closest friends is a feeling that is incomparable. My best friend continues to remain one of my classmates from Grade 1, who I’ve grown up with and grown up separated from – but continuously been in touch with. He’s a person I derive a quiet strength from, knowing that although our lives have taken very different paths, we’ve been able to both forge on in paths that we thought of when we were slightly younger, and we constantly strive to be happy and enjoy whatever we do. He’s a simple person – and I think that’s what I love about him the most.

Today I spent the day in his company. We talked, we played table tennis. We ate palak dal and rice and curd with a spoon and a fork, the way we used to as children. We watched a movie about music. We hung out and learnt about the intricacies of things we were each passionate about. I caught up with his parents, he caught up with mine. We shared paneer at a restaurant we’ve visited since we were 7 year olds.

We had fun.

Not because of nostalgia, but because we caught up. Properly.

We message each other frequently, probably once in two weeks. Because of time zone differences, one chat ends up lasting a week – with me replying to him at night, and him back in the morning, and on and on.

But today was a good day, and I’m glad we both managed to find time on short visits just to spend with each other.