Our first day in Hyderabad was guaranteed to be a long one, because we had to do 95% of our remaining India preproduction by the time we went to sleep that night.
Since the Green Park is a hotel meant primarily for businessmen, a breakfast buffet was included. I know a buffet isn't the best way to taste local cuisine, but I saw it as a great compromise between blindly ordering from a menu (not knowing what to expect when the server brought the food) and chickening out with Western food. Plus, buffets allow for sampling, which greatly decreases the risk and embarrassment of Unpleasant First Bite Face (and since we were eating with Rob, I was a little more aware of this). I scooped small, neat piles of rice and vegetable dishes, like upma and bisi bele bath onto my plate, along with corn and mutton idly.
A van was sent to pick us up at the hotel and take the three of us to the Andhra Pradesh Productivity Council's Hyderabad headquarters, which also house the CMU Information Centre and some computer companies. We had to take all of our equipment with us, but by this time we were reasonably comfortable lugging everything around. Of course, as soon as we approached the van, the driver wordlessly took everything out of our hands to load it into the back. He didn't make eye contact, and didn't even look up when I thanked him. It's unnerving to be served like that, and I don't think I can fully explain how every new instance of it made me so uncomfortable.
Each time we sat down in a vehicle, we had a new experience of what it was like to get around India. The drivers that had been arranged for us seemed to fit into a hierarchy based on the level of terror induced by the ride. Our driver this morning was the same we had the previous night on the trip from the airport, so the ride was relatively smooth and stops were gentle. At the time, of course, it felt like he was weaving crazily and stopping just short of ramming us into idling cars. The traffic in Hyderabad was jam-packed, and we saw how motorcycles and scooters were preferable to larger vehicles. On some roads, they made up 2/3 of the traffic, and even when the lights were red, motorcycles jockeyed for a slightly closer position. They were like buzzing insects, constantly moving. Some intersections had traffic police stationed in kiosks to monitor violations, but we had to wonder how they would be able to catch someone in that kind of traffic (as it turns out, cameras and e-tickets). Pursuit would be nearly impossible.
Upon arriving at the APPC building, we were greeted and given bouquets of roses again. Then we were given a tour of the place, which served as our first round of location scouting so we could get all of the shots we needed (especially the India shots that were supposed to look like somewhere other than the CMUIC). The building was five or six stories tall (the top two floors were unfinished) with one or two companies on each floor. The main floor, where the APPC is located, has one large office with a few smaller offices and alcoves with desks in them for some of the staff. The rest of the employees worked at rows of desks with computers on them. We were introduced to every single person working there--about 25-30 in all.
Have you ever been introduced to thirty people, one at a time? It's an odd experience. There was little hope that we'd remember even a fraction of the names we were told, but it was helpful for them to see us so they wouldn't wonder what we were doing in their building for the rest of the week. They were gracious and welcoming, even though Aaron and I were just two white people with some camera equipment, suddenly standing in an office building in India.
Next we sat down with two of the APPC's administrators to talk about the Council's mission and goals, which was one of the most interesting conversations I've ever had because we learned so much about India in general and the state of Andhra Pradesh in particular. Much of what the APPC does is linked to economic and entrepreneurial development, but there's a huge focus on the development of human resources, especially in terms of education. Call me a nerd, but I can listen to people discuss education all day long, especially over cookies and Fanta orange.
In our discussions of Andhra Pradesh and Hyderabad, we were told that the region has excellent (and very spicy) food. We had lunch at a restaurant called Southern Spice, and the name alone had me panicking a little. Here we go, I thought. A spicy meal in India is going to make me cry, and that's going to be really embarrassing. Even though the menus are printed in English, our companions spoke English, and the waitstaff seemed to have a good command of English, ordering was tricky because most items were labeled with a name and a very simple explanation that didn't reveal much about what was actually in the food. Spice was never mentioned. Ingredients remained a mystery.
For the picky and non-adventurous, it was a gamble. Rob asked about some fish on the menu. "What's the sauce like?" he asked. "Is it spicy?"
"Not too spicy," our waiter said. Unfortunately, that was his default answer. Rob asked them to make the fish without any sauce on it. The waiter nodded.
Aaron and I were a little more conflicted in our ordering, as Aaron is both slightly picky and not-too-adventurous. He was also still quite concerned about getting sick. I had stupidly adopted a "NOTHING CAN HURT ME!" attitude, but that didn't help me understand what any of the menu items were. We asked the waiters a lot of questions. We struggled with the unclear answers. In the end, we settled on Chinese food, which seems to be quite popular in India.
When our food came, Rob let us try his fish, which was in a mildly spicy sauce. We shared our chicken, which was in a red, burn-your-lips-off spicy sauce that made Rob cry a little. I thought he must be exaggerating, but the initial bite coated my tongue in a blanket of hot. Unlike other spicy food I've suffered through, however, this wasn't about pain--it was just heat, and it faded rather quickly. In fact, the sauce would have been delicious, had it not also been chock-full of cilantro leaves. Oh, the soap-tasting humanity. I filled up on vegetarian soup and chicken fried rice instead.
The rest of the afternoon was spent at the CMUIC for preproduction. We rearranged the furniture and displayed the CMU paraphernalia Rob had brought with him, including some banners, pennants, and a new clock. A light kit had been rented for us, so we blocked out our shots and figured out how to make the best use of the room's two windows, the fluorescent fixtures and the diffused incandescents in the kit lights. Since Rob had to meet with some students regarding CMU's graduate programs, we were shuffled over to Dr. Reddi's office to finalize our shot list and make a list of the props we'd need to buy that night so we could shoot the next day.
And then Aaron had an unfortunate post-meal incident I cannot discuss. I will only say that we were prepared.
As the afternoon wore on into the evening, Rob and Vinay (the CMUIC advisor) were ready to take us shopping for props. Our task was to transform the slightly bland and mildly industrial CMUIC into a prospective student's living room, where she would discuss her education options with her parents. We had a couch, two chairs, and a glass coffee table to work with, so we set out to the mall with a list that included curtains, a rug, a vase, a lamp, and some throw pillows.
The mall was like a very large department store, spanning several floors of the building and divided into merchandise categories. We had to go through security scanners to enter the building (with, once again, a separate curtained-off area for women). In a country that constantly challenges the senses, the mall was another form of sensory overload: the displays were bright and crammed with merchandise; the music was loud, pulsating; salespeople wove their way into the crowds; and the colors were exaggeratedly bright. It was like the vision of consumerism I'd first noticed growing up in the late 1980s and early 1990s had been reanimated, but with a foreign flavor. There was so much there, screaming to be purchased, and crowds of people with that adrenaline-infused, slightly glassy stare of want glinting in their eyes.
We were here on business, though, so I couldn't let myself get distracted by every fascinating detail. I couldn't buy anything for myself (or for others--I so badly wanted to find the perfect turquoise sari for Allison Joseph). And even though we had a list, a set of directives guiding us through the towering displays and labyrinthine halls of stuff, it took us forever to find the right items. We had to try to make an office look like a home, but we also had to think about the way these props would photograph. We had to think about matching color and pattern but also textures, reflectivity, saturation, the scale of the pattern in relation to other elements. It's definitely not how we normally think about furnishings.
Somewhere between one store and the next, I had developed a strange rash on my arm. It was a little red, a little bumpy, and a little itchy--and unlike any contact dermatitis I had ever had. It was only on one arm, so I went to the restroom to wash it and (maybe) prevent it from spreading. All I needed was to wake up in the morning with my left arm red, swollen to twice its normal size, and completely unusable. We finished up at the mall and had the driver take us to a pharmacy, since I had somehow neglected to pack any kind of Benadryl in my gigantic toiletry/first-aid kit.
The pharmacy was marked with a green plus sign, like the ones I had grown accustomed to (but had never visited) in Rome. It was tiny, with most merchandise behind the counter and two pharmacy clerks there to help. I was very grateful to have Vinay with us, since the pharmacist spoke Telugu and I didn't recognize the brands on the shelves. I held up my arm to show the pharmacist, and he gave me a tube of something called Fourderm. It was a white cream and smelled vaguely medicinal (I still can't figure out what it reminds me of), but it didn't contain hydrocortisone. I paid my rupees and fervently hoped I wouldn't have a bad reaction to the cream, since my skin does not act like other people's skin. In fact, my skin sometimes decides to react to things that were once safe, like laundry detergent and certain fabrics. I can only imagine what my immune system was going through.
By this time, it had been dark for hours and I was ready to be in a quiet place, alone. But first we had to go back to the CMUIC to set up the props for the living room scene, and we managed to do that in about 20 minutes. I think we were all ready to go back to the hotel, to come up for air. None of us had even eaten dinner, because we had all been so busy working on the video project (and Rob and Vinay had meetings with students).
At least the work was getting done.
Showing posts with label CMU. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CMU. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Be Prepared (or, When Boy Scouts Go to India) Part 3
I promise, this is the last post about preparations!
By now, you're probably thinking that it's no wonder Aaron has been very stressed out for the past eight months (and also why we've declined invitations for dinner and hanging out on more than one occasion). It has been the major focus of Aaron's attention for a very long time, in addition to working full-time, running his business, managing our finances, and being married to me (which is no small undertaking). Even with the seemingly detailed, exhaustive blog posts, I don't think I've adequately described the work Aaron has put into this project and how it has (at times) disrupted our lives. I feel like half a person compared to him, in terms of the mental and physical energy he puts into his work.
What I also want to make very, very clear is that we are in no way ungrateful for the chance to even attempt an international production. It's hard to write about the experience without sometimes complaining, but that also means I have the misfortune of sounding like an over-privileged, whiny snot--the ugly American who feels entitled to far more than she deserves, which is really not the case. I also don't want to come off as culturally insensitive about our experience in India; at the same time, I want to convey all of the bewildering, frightening, and fascinating parts of it from what is, by default, the perspective of a complete outsider. What I describe might make you uncomfortable; we certainly were at times. But I firmly believe that learning and growth don't come from places of comfort, and sometimes you get rubbed raw in the pursuit of knowledge.
Training
Having never taken video production, photography, or art classes, I desperately needed Aaron's help to become a competent production assistant. As I've mentioned, I've taken some film classes and I had a basic understanding of shot composition. I've been around Aaron for enough years to have seen how production works. But I'd never really picked up a good camera and tested my abilities, and I was afraid of failure (and of incurring Aaron's wrath). He had the unfortunate task of educating me from doltish ineptitude to passable competency, fighting against my stubbornness and klutz-tastic ability to trip over my own feet, drop things, and otherwise mess things up (like the time I dented his laptop while on our first big roadtrip together--Houston, we have a problem, indeed).
Each armed with a Canon DSLR, we did some outdoor photography training at Giant City State Park. I felt like a blundering moron with very little idea how to use the most basic functions on the camera, but Aaron's a good teacher, and he was able to explain concepts so that they lodged in my atrophied little brain. We also went to Nashville in December (mostly to watch the Red Wings crush the Predators) and did some more shooting downtown. I took a few decent pictures, and a lot of stupid ones. It probably didn't help that I kept saying "Stand back! I'm making ART!" in a dramatic hipster voice. But Aaron could see that I was learning, so he put up with it.
What was probably most helpful were the six hours of training videos we watched together. I'm usually a book-learner first and then a hands-on-learner, but these videos were excellent for explaining and demonstrating concepts without being condescending or dry. If you want to learn more about photography but can't afford to take classes (and don't have access to someone like Aaron), I highly recommend Lynda.com's training videos.
Other portions of my training included learning how to set up and take down the lights (which we did not take to India); setting up tripods, securing the cameras to them, and using the tilt arm smoothly; figuring out how to use the iPad for script editing, releases, as a teleprompter, as a clapper, and for talent releases; using the audio recorder and microphones; and all aspects of setting up, hauling, storing, and handling all of the production equipment so that I did not damage it in any way. I was expressly forbidden from panicking once we were in India.
Luggage
Accepting that were would be going on a Tourist VISA felt like a demotion, but it also meant that we had to transport our equipment in baggage that made us look less like professionals and more like vacationing Americans. The Pelican cases for the laptop, cameras, and accessories were out; we did keep the microphones, one of the hard drives, and the memory cards in their own small Pelican cases, though. Nope, nothing here but a technology nerd and his disheveled wife, both of whom also happen to be amateur photographers.
Part of my "dowry" (read: crap I brought with me when we moved in together and have kept through our marriage) was a 4-piece set of plum-colored no-frills luggage I initially bought for study abroad. I paid $58 for the whole set back in 2002, and it was worth every penny, in the sense that it has not completely disintegrated in the intervening decade of use and abuse. Well, some of the seams are ripped. The biggest case sports wide bands of permanently ground-in duct tape adhesive. The inner plastic support walls have shattered. The luggage smells funny. Miraculously, all of the zippers still work. But this is not luggage I would trust again on an international flight--especially one that would require the bags remain intact through multiple airport transfers.
After scouting the aisles at a few stores and reading positive online reviews, we decided to buy two of the Heys 4-Motion 29" cases at Target to serve as our checked baggage. I won't go into a big sales pitch, but these bags were really great for our purposes, and having four wheels made it a lot easier to lug them around various airports, through Customs, and into hotel rooms. They GLIDE. No joke. We bought TSA-approved locks with an indicator that showed whether they had been opened by baggage screeners, too, for that inevitable moment when they wonder if that's a tripod wrapped in a sweatshirt or if we're just happy to see them.
For our hand baggage, I already had a decent Jansport backpack with sufficient pockets for the things I would want on a daily basis and on the planes. Aaron needed a way to protect the iPad and laptop, and we ended up finding a clearance-priced rolling suitcase with a slim detachable backpack for him at Target (and please, read the About Us section on the company's website--it's so earnest).
Aaron bought himself a new camera bag, since he had included his old one when he sold his previous DSLR. For "my" camera, we exercised our cheapskate muscles and managed to find a Gillette shaving bag with an inside zippered pocket and two outer zippered pockets at the Carbondale Goodwill--for $3 (it was also full of Mary Kay shaving products!). It didn't have a shoulder strap on it, though, so I bought some D-rings and upholstery thread so I could attach a spare strap. It was just big enough for the camera body, one lens, the filters, and few accessories in the side pockets. I ended up keeping my passport in the inner zippered pocket most days.
Air and Ground Transportation
Booking our plane tickets was tricky because it would mean there was no backing out--and things weren't exactly rock solid in the month and a half before we left. We had to renew our passports, and we couldn't apply for a VISA without them. The VISA application process was not going smoothly due to misinformation. And everywhere we looked, we were advised not to book our plane tickets until we had secured proper documentation.
But we didn't have a choice, and the longer we waited, the more the fares would rise. We wanted to make sure we were on the same flight as Rob getting into Mumbai because we had never been there before, so that meant routing through Detroit and Amsterdam.
We thought we had it (maybe) figured out ourselves, but went to a travel agent just in case. Visiting this kind of business establishment is like time-traveling back to the early 1990s (and where we live, some people never left the early 1990s, in terms of favored hair, make-up, and clothing styles). But do you know what kind of fees travel agents charge? It's obscene. I get that they're trying to stay afloat in a time when computers can do everything for you, but we couldn't justify giving her lots and lots of our money to do what we already figured out how to do, so we went home and booked the tickets ourselves (and enrolled in Delta's SkyMiles program).
When you're faced with the prospect of returning from 22 hours of flights and the accompanying layovers, and you'll be two hours from home when you step off the last plane, the idea of driving yourself home from the airport is an instant emetic. There was just NO way. And though we could have chartered a BART van to drop us off and pick us up, there were some uncertainties and associated expenses we didn't want to mess with. So we chartered a Brenna, using my car. She was kind enough to ride to St. Louis with us, drive our car home to Carbondale and store it at her apartment, and then pick us up at the end of our trip, which was pretty much the best idea ever. And we're going to pay her in food and gifts tonight. It's a win-win all around.
Hotels
We had been assured that arrangements had been made for our lodging in Hyderabad, but we also needed to book a room for the first two nights of the trip, which we were spending in Mumbai. So we stayed here:
Actually, we stayed in the tower part of it, which isn't in the picture. Does it look familiar? Here's another angle that might jog your memory a bit:
The hotel was among the sites attacked by terrorists in 2008. Security has been tightened considerably, but staying there seemed like it would be just another way that we were drawing attention to ourselves. We knew we would stand out: our equipment was sure to draw stares and possibly suspicion. We are undeniably, blindingly white, and thus either American, European, or Australian by default. I was a little nervous about what would be assumed about us as it was, and the hotel choice didn't make me feel any more relaxed.
But this hotel was also right next to the Gateway of India and the harbor, both of which we wanted to include in the host segments of the video. It was convenient, and since we didn't have much time in Mumbai, we knew staying this close to our shooting locations would ease our stress and make it easier to transport the equipment (and go back to the room if we forgot anything or needed to stow the equipment quickly).
We weren't scared, necessarily. Just cautious.
By now, you're probably thinking that it's no wonder Aaron has been very stressed out for the past eight months (and also why we've declined invitations for dinner and hanging out on more than one occasion). It has been the major focus of Aaron's attention for a very long time, in addition to working full-time, running his business, managing our finances, and being married to me (which is no small undertaking). Even with the seemingly detailed, exhaustive blog posts, I don't think I've adequately described the work Aaron has put into this project and how it has (at times) disrupted our lives. I feel like half a person compared to him, in terms of the mental and physical energy he puts into his work.
What I also want to make very, very clear is that we are in no way ungrateful for the chance to even attempt an international production. It's hard to write about the experience without sometimes complaining, but that also means I have the misfortune of sounding like an over-privileged, whiny snot--the ugly American who feels entitled to far more than she deserves, which is really not the case. I also don't want to come off as culturally insensitive about our experience in India; at the same time, I want to convey all of the bewildering, frightening, and fascinating parts of it from what is, by default, the perspective of a complete outsider. What I describe might make you uncomfortable; we certainly were at times. But I firmly believe that learning and growth don't come from places of comfort, and sometimes you get rubbed raw in the pursuit of knowledge.
Training
Having never taken video production, photography, or art classes, I desperately needed Aaron's help to become a competent production assistant. As I've mentioned, I've taken some film classes and I had a basic understanding of shot composition. I've been around Aaron for enough years to have seen how production works. But I'd never really picked up a good camera and tested my abilities, and I was afraid of failure (and of incurring Aaron's wrath). He had the unfortunate task of educating me from doltish ineptitude to passable competency, fighting against my stubbornness and klutz-tastic ability to trip over my own feet, drop things, and otherwise mess things up (like the time I dented his laptop while on our first big roadtrip together--Houston, we have a problem, indeed).
Each armed with a Canon DSLR, we did some outdoor photography training at Giant City State Park. I felt like a blundering moron with very little idea how to use the most basic functions on the camera, but Aaron's a good teacher, and he was able to explain concepts so that they lodged in my atrophied little brain. We also went to Nashville in December (mostly to watch the Red Wings crush the Predators) and did some more shooting downtown. I took a few decent pictures, and a lot of stupid ones. It probably didn't help that I kept saying "Stand back! I'm making ART!" in a dramatic hipster voice. But Aaron could see that I was learning, so he put up with it.
 |
| ART! |
 |
| Double ART! |
What was probably most helpful were the six hours of training videos we watched together. I'm usually a book-learner first and then a hands-on-learner, but these videos were excellent for explaining and demonstrating concepts without being condescending or dry. If you want to learn more about photography but can't afford to take classes (and don't have access to someone like Aaron), I highly recommend Lynda.com's training videos.
Other portions of my training included learning how to set up and take down the lights (which we did not take to India); setting up tripods, securing the cameras to them, and using the tilt arm smoothly; figuring out how to use the iPad for script editing, releases, as a teleprompter, as a clapper, and for talent releases; using the audio recorder and microphones; and all aspects of setting up, hauling, storing, and handling all of the production equipment so that I did not damage it in any way. I was expressly forbidden from panicking once we were in India.
Luggage
Accepting that were would be going on a Tourist VISA felt like a demotion, but it also meant that we had to transport our equipment in baggage that made us look less like professionals and more like vacationing Americans. The Pelican cases for the laptop, cameras, and accessories were out; we did keep the microphones, one of the hard drives, and the memory cards in their own small Pelican cases, though. Nope, nothing here but a technology nerd and his disheveled wife, both of whom also happen to be amateur photographers.
Part of my "dowry" (read: crap I brought with me when we moved in together and have kept through our marriage) was a 4-piece set of plum-colored no-frills luggage I initially bought for study abroad. I paid $58 for the whole set back in 2002, and it was worth every penny, in the sense that it has not completely disintegrated in the intervening decade of use and abuse. Well, some of the seams are ripped. The biggest case sports wide bands of permanently ground-in duct tape adhesive. The inner plastic support walls have shattered. The luggage smells funny. Miraculously, all of the zippers still work. But this is not luggage I would trust again on an international flight--especially one that would require the bags remain intact through multiple airport transfers.
After scouting the aisles at a few stores and reading positive online reviews, we decided to buy two of the Heys 4-Motion 29" cases at Target to serve as our checked baggage. I won't go into a big sales pitch, but these bags were really great for our purposes, and having four wheels made it a lot easier to lug them around various airports, through Customs, and into hotel rooms. They GLIDE. No joke. We bought TSA-approved locks with an indicator that showed whether they had been opened by baggage screeners, too, for that inevitable moment when they wonder if that's a tripod wrapped in a sweatshirt or if we're just happy to see them.
For our hand baggage, I already had a decent Jansport backpack with sufficient pockets for the things I would want on a daily basis and on the planes. Aaron needed a way to protect the iPad and laptop, and we ended up finding a clearance-priced rolling suitcase with a slim detachable backpack for him at Target (and please, read the About Us section on the company's website--it's so earnest).
Aaron bought himself a new camera bag, since he had included his old one when he sold his previous DSLR. For "my" camera, we exercised our cheapskate muscles and managed to find a Gillette shaving bag with an inside zippered pocket and two outer zippered pockets at the Carbondale Goodwill--for $3 (it was also full of Mary Kay shaving products!). It didn't have a shoulder strap on it, though, so I bought some D-rings and upholstery thread so I could attach a spare strap. It was just big enough for the camera body, one lens, the filters, and few accessories in the side pockets. I ended up keeping my passport in the inner zippered pocket most days.
Air and Ground Transportation
Booking our plane tickets was tricky because it would mean there was no backing out--and things weren't exactly rock solid in the month and a half before we left. We had to renew our passports, and we couldn't apply for a VISA without them. The VISA application process was not going smoothly due to misinformation. And everywhere we looked, we were advised not to book our plane tickets until we had secured proper documentation.
But we didn't have a choice, and the longer we waited, the more the fares would rise. We wanted to make sure we were on the same flight as Rob getting into Mumbai because we had never been there before, so that meant routing through Detroit and Amsterdam.
We thought we had it (maybe) figured out ourselves, but went to a travel agent just in case. Visiting this kind of business establishment is like time-traveling back to the early 1990s (and where we live, some people never left the early 1990s, in terms of favored hair, make-up, and clothing styles). But do you know what kind of fees travel agents charge? It's obscene. I get that they're trying to stay afloat in a time when computers can do everything for you, but we couldn't justify giving her lots and lots of our money to do what we already figured out how to do, so we went home and booked the tickets ourselves (and enrolled in Delta's SkyMiles program).
When you're faced with the prospect of returning from 22 hours of flights and the accompanying layovers, and you'll be two hours from home when you step off the last plane, the idea of driving yourself home from the airport is an instant emetic. There was just NO way. And though we could have chartered a BART van to drop us off and pick us up, there were some uncertainties and associated expenses we didn't want to mess with. So we chartered a Brenna, using my car. She was kind enough to ride to St. Louis with us, drive our car home to Carbondale and store it at her apartment, and then pick us up at the end of our trip, which was pretty much the best idea ever. And we're going to pay her in food and gifts tonight. It's a win-win all around.
Hotels
We had been assured that arrangements had been made for our lodging in Hyderabad, but we also needed to book a room for the first two nights of the trip, which we were spending in Mumbai. So we stayed here:
 |
| "Opulence, I has it." |
The hotel was among the sites attacked by terrorists in 2008. Security has been tightened considerably, but staying there seemed like it would be just another way that we were drawing attention to ourselves. We knew we would stand out: our equipment was sure to draw stares and possibly suspicion. We are undeniably, blindingly white, and thus either American, European, or Australian by default. I was a little nervous about what would be assumed about us as it was, and the hotel choice didn't make me feel any more relaxed.
But this hotel was also right next to the Gateway of India and the harbor, both of which we wanted to include in the host segments of the video. It was convenient, and since we didn't have much time in Mumbai, we knew staying this close to our shooting locations would ease our stress and make it easier to transport the equipment (and go back to the room if we forgot anything or needed to stow the equipment quickly).
We weren't scared, necessarily. Just cautious.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Be Prepared (or, When Boy Scouts Go to India) Part 1
Aaron is (and I say this without an ounce of sarcasm) a multi-talented
guy with an encyclopedic knowledge of a few specific topics. He knows
more than I ever will about the technical aspects of film production,
video editing, photography, and all the associated equipment,
accessories, and software. I've watched him shoot video. I've watched
him edit. I've watched him direct. The boy knows his stuff. So it's good
that he was hired to make the India video, because that also means he
did the bulk of the planning (and that I was merely his lowly production
assistant, utterly terrified of making mistakes lest it reflect poorly
on him).
He's also a lifelong Boy Scout with a penchant for order, a finesse for organization, and an intense (almost supernatural) knack for spatial relations. If he can't afford it, he finds a way to get it cheaper, or crafts a substitute, MacGyver-style. The hamster wheel of his brain runs at a decidedly different speed from my own, all of which helped him PREPARE like a boss.
Equipment
For the past few months, Aaron has been holed up in his office researching everything we might possibly need for making the video in India and considering all kinds of obstacles, problems and full-on disasters. How do you account for the difference in the electricity? Would we need shooting permits? What if we bought all this equipment and schlepped it to India, only to have our baggage lost/stolen/damaged or seized by Customs? Would bribes be necessary? Would we be able to rent and/or buy anything we weren't able to bring?
Aaron looked at a lot of websites, some with grim accounts of what happened to the ill-prepared. He researched the CARNET, which is basically third-party yet "official" documentation for importing certain kinds of equipment into a foreign country which would hopefully prevent a Customs seizure. He e-mailed people who had done video productions in India (although it was hard to find anything but huge film crews with multi-million-dollar budgets). He called people and corporations (also Republican for "people") asking for advice and help. He got very, very frustrated. We had some lively discussions (and a few screaming arguments) about the whole thing.
He bought two DSLRs, an LED light panel, two tripods, an iPad, a laptop, hard drives, a battery charger, a power adapter, an audio recorder, microphones, a remote timer, a slider...and that's just what I can remember. He also bought cables, cords and various accessories. And hard Pelican cases for everything.
Documentation
A big issue was getting the right kind of VISA that would allow us to enter the country with our equipment but without drawing undue attention to ourselves. Aaron spent a lot of time on the phone with two different VISA companies (and India outsources its VISA process to a third-party company!) as well as the Consulate. We had letters of invitation from the Andhra Pradesh Productivity Council.
Were we going on Business? Well, kind of. There would be meetings. We were going as Aaron's video production company. Would an Employment VISA be more appropriate? We would be paid for our work, but not by an Indian company. With our equipment, would we qualify as Journalists? No one could give us a straight answer, and sometimes we got conflicting answers between an organization's website and the customer service representatives we called for clarification. We spent a lot of time on hold. We spent a lot of money on applications, shipping, photocopies, and money orders.
We each ended up with a Tourist VISA, which meant we couldn't safely take more equipment than the average American tourist would. We were probably being paranoid, but thousands of dollars of equipment being seized by Customs is nothing to joke about--especially when that would mean scrambling to rent/buy what we needed in a foreign country where we had few contacts, and with our already-strained finances.
We also had to renew our passports, during which I learned the hard way that CVS takes horrible passport photos. Too bad I was already at the post office, ready to mail my application, when I noticed and I didn't want to go complain because I needed to get my application sent before the Thanksgiving holiday. Walgreens takes much nicer photos for the same price, so we did our VISA photos there.
He's also a lifelong Boy Scout with a penchant for order, a finesse for organization, and an intense (almost supernatural) knack for spatial relations. If he can't afford it, he finds a way to get it cheaper, or crafts a substitute, MacGyver-style. The hamster wheel of his brain runs at a decidedly different speed from my own, all of which helped him PREPARE like a boss.
Equipment
For the past few months, Aaron has been holed up in his office researching everything we might possibly need for making the video in India and considering all kinds of obstacles, problems and full-on disasters. How do you account for the difference in the electricity? Would we need shooting permits? What if we bought all this equipment and schlepped it to India, only to have our baggage lost/stolen/damaged or seized by Customs? Would bribes be necessary? Would we be able to rent and/or buy anything we weren't able to bring?
Aaron looked at a lot of websites, some with grim accounts of what happened to the ill-prepared. He researched the CARNET, which is basically third-party yet "official" documentation for importing certain kinds of equipment into a foreign country which would hopefully prevent a Customs seizure. He e-mailed people who had done video productions in India (although it was hard to find anything but huge film crews with multi-million-dollar budgets). He called people and corporations (also Republican for "people") asking for advice and help. He got very, very frustrated. We had some lively discussions (and a few screaming arguments) about the whole thing.
He bought two DSLRs, an LED light panel, two tripods, an iPad, a laptop, hard drives, a battery charger, a power adapter, an audio recorder, microphones, a remote timer, a slider...and that's just what I can remember. He also bought cables, cords and various accessories. And hard Pelican cases for everything.
Documentation
A big issue was getting the right kind of VISA that would allow us to enter the country with our equipment but without drawing undue attention to ourselves. Aaron spent a lot of time on the phone with two different VISA companies (and India outsources its VISA process to a third-party company!) as well as the Consulate. We had letters of invitation from the Andhra Pradesh Productivity Council.
Were we going on Business? Well, kind of. There would be meetings. We were going as Aaron's video production company. Would an Employment VISA be more appropriate? We would be paid for our work, but not by an Indian company. With our equipment, would we qualify as Journalists? No one could give us a straight answer, and sometimes we got conflicting answers between an organization's website and the customer service representatives we called for clarification. We spent a lot of time on hold. We spent a lot of money on applications, shipping, photocopies, and money orders.
We each ended up with a Tourist VISA, which meant we couldn't safely take more equipment than the average American tourist would. We were probably being paranoid, but thousands of dollars of equipment being seized by Customs is nothing to joke about--especially when that would mean scrambling to rent/buy what we needed in a foreign country where we had few contacts, and with our already-strained finances.
We also had to renew our passports, during which I learned the hard way that CVS takes horrible passport photos. Too bad I was already at the post office, ready to mail my application, when I noticed and I didn't want to go complain because I needed to get my application sent before the Thanksgiving holiday. Walgreens takes much nicer photos for the same price, so we did our VISA photos there.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Road to Recovery
For those of you who don't know (even though it's the only thing Aaron has thought about since May 2011--no exaggeration here), Aaron was hired to make an educational/promotional video by Central Michigan University's graduate school. The video, intended for students in India, details the process of researching, selecting and applying to a graduate school in the United States, as well as the documentation, planning and other issues involved. Since it's for Indian students, part of the video needed to be filmed there.
So began months of planning, researching, meeting, e-mailing, calling, purchasing, preparing, and training (he trained me! I'm trainable, like a puppy!) for an international video project. And now that the India portion is complete, Aaron can take tiny, tiny breaths of relief before diving into the rest of it.
We came home from India just over a week ago (January 23rd). We got home on a Monday night, after taking four planes and spending about 22 hours in the air. We crossed 11 time zones. We ate all manner of semi-identifiable airline food. We did not sleep. Whoever said the world is small has not flown from Hyderabad to Mumbai to Amsterdam to Detroit to St. Louis. The world is very, very large.
Although we're both still recovering, Aaron is decidedly the winner on that front, having only in the last two days developed some kind of head cold that keeps him sneezing, coughing, and congested. I'm having some...problems...with readjustment, especially in regards to the most basic of physiological needs--eating and sleeping. Thankfully, neither of us has malaria, dysentery, dengue fever or any of the other serious diseases we were warned about. Just a bone-deep fatigue from being on the other side of the world just long enough to taste it but not quite long enough to really enjoy it the way seasoned travelers would (due in large part to the fact that this was work, not a vacation or honeymoon).
Here are the answers to the most frequently asked questions about our trip:
Yes, the trip was enjoyable.
Yes, we would like to return to India someday.
Yes, we accomplished everything we needed to for the video project.
No, we did not visit the Taj Mahal. It would have been very far out of the way.
No, we did not drink tea, though it was offered to us daily. We're not really tea drinkers.
Yes, we did enjoy the food.
No, we did not visit the slums in Mumbai.
Yes, the culture was quite different from home, but maybe not in the ways you're thinking.
Yes, we took a lot of pictures. Over 2,000 between the two of us.
Yes, we're glad to be home (and you can thank Brenna Lemieux for picking us up at the airport).
So began months of planning, researching, meeting, e-mailing, calling, purchasing, preparing, and training (he trained me! I'm trainable, like a puppy!) for an international video project. And now that the India portion is complete, Aaron can take tiny, tiny breaths of relief before diving into the rest of it.
We came home from India just over a week ago (January 23rd). We got home on a Monday night, after taking four planes and spending about 22 hours in the air. We crossed 11 time zones. We ate all manner of semi-identifiable airline food. We did not sleep. Whoever said the world is small has not flown from Hyderabad to Mumbai to Amsterdam to Detroit to St. Louis. The world is very, very large.
Although we're both still recovering, Aaron is decidedly the winner on that front, having only in the last two days developed some kind of head cold that keeps him sneezing, coughing, and congested. I'm having some...problems...with readjustment, especially in regards to the most basic of physiological needs--eating and sleeping. Thankfully, neither of us has malaria, dysentery, dengue fever or any of the other serious diseases we were warned about. Just a bone-deep fatigue from being on the other side of the world just long enough to taste it but not quite long enough to really enjoy it the way seasoned travelers would (due in large part to the fact that this was work, not a vacation or honeymoon).
Here are the answers to the most frequently asked questions about our trip:
Yes, the trip was enjoyable.
Yes, we would like to return to India someday.
Yes, we accomplished everything we needed to for the video project.
No, we did not visit the Taj Mahal. It would have been very far out of the way.
No, we did not drink tea, though it was offered to us daily. We're not really tea drinkers.
Yes, we did enjoy the food.
No, we did not visit the slums in Mumbai.
Yes, the culture was quite different from home, but maybe not in the ways you're thinking.
Yes, we took a lot of pictures. Over 2,000 between the two of us.
Yes, we're glad to be home (and you can thank Brenna Lemieux for picking us up at the airport).
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