A Whole New World

    "Most journalists are restless voyeurs who see the warts on the world, the imperfections in people and places. Gloom is their game, the spectacle their passion, normality their nemesis." -Gay Talese

       There is nothing like writing for a professional media outlet. When arriving on scene, I am most often greeted with open arms and led to a strong source without hesitation; contrary to my preconceived notion that most people hate journalists. That said, the real challenge lies in those stories harder to report, and that's when one's journalistic integrity finds form. I have yet to experience that here, and probably won't during this stay, but I've dipped my feet in the water. Granted this trip flows through the same path it poured into, I can't imagine that goal falling far from site.

    The conflict with this paper I can already sense is the lack of professionalism in design and editorial decision making.The paper reflects the city: Exceptionally busy and difficult to navigate.   Opening a page is like visiting Tuesday Morning or some other low-end bargain shop. There may be a treasure if you take on the hunt, but in the media world an alternative option is too readily accessible. Advertisements are misaligned with one another, and images are off center and in disproportion to the story. Compromising space, paragraphs are pushed together, even putting quotes by two sources in the same one (that really bugs me). America--please recognize convenience.

     I have written five articles so far in three days of work. One has been published, the other four will be coming in the next couple of days. So far I've covered topics from healthy eating and wise commercial consumerism to a screenplay seminar preview and an art exhibition. A couple of hours ago, I attended a press event at Harley Davidson. The first female woman in India to buy a high-end bike from the company, the community was impressed. The chick was pretty bad-ass, though only one tattoo of a buddhist scripture. I had less than an hour to write the story, so hopefully it was adequate enough for print. Modernity issues make up the most obvious theme here, but I will spare you of a rant. In this post at least. I will try and post the stories as they pop-up on the internet.

    My photographer is a young freelancer whom I actually feel safe riding with (for the most part). He's been on a motorbike for 10+ years, since he was 12, and can weave through oncoming traffic with ease. And he uses a Nikon, which is an added plus.  The first couple of times I was a bit tense--clenching my jaw and fearing for my life--but after riding with others I've found his expertise to be incomparable. Though I must admit, we hit an auto-rickshaw on the way back to the office today.

    Since I've been here I've surprisingly not faced any gender discrimination, but my coworkers warn me it's only a matter of time. They all think I'm crazy for deciding to work here. "But America's so nice, and, in ORDER!" They say. But I'm loving the chaos of the densely populated city. The noise gets a bit overwhelming at times, especially when dog fights are competing with early morning salats at the nearby Mosque (I live in a predominantly Sunni neighborhood).  All the noise problem is doing is simply spoon feeding me the challenge of ignoring the undesirable. The early morning yoga routine helps... I'll save the personal details for e-mails and journal entries.