Formal events – formal attire + drunk professors = hilarity

The formal event started with me being introduced to one of the big wigs at the university and Rahul asking him if I could attend the party, to which his response was, ‘He is already here, so what would be the point of sending him home?’ At least he was kind enough to let me stay. We also had received formal permission earlier in the day, just from one of the professors, not from the vice chancellor.

The night was filled with good conversation; again I was happy that many of the people spoke decent English. I was told later that we would have hung out with more of Rahul’s friends, but two of his clicks did not get along too well. I mostly answered questions about the U.S., my studies, why I came to India and what I liked/disliked so far. Some of the conversation digressed into Hindi, which was as expected, and it bothers me less and less when it does not get translated.

We grabbed a few snacks, something chicken, something potato and some peanuts before hitting the dance floor. Interesting observation about the music in India—it is common for the D.J. to play approximately the first 30 seconds of a song, that is right ONLY the first 30 seconds. That makes it hard to dance to, and a bit disheartening when a comforting song like 'Summer of 69' rolls over the speakers.

At least the disappointment in the musical playback was somewhat relieved by the abundance of drunk professors walking around, trying to chat it up with the American. Also, I had a random Indian graduate, drunk I must inform you, approach me to talk about food from his state, Himachal Pradesh. I already have a hard enough time understanding broken Indi-British English, so when you toss in loud music that constantly shifts from Classic Rock to current day Hindi Pop, drunken slurring and the occasional interruption from the lush professors, I was completely and utterly lost. I have, to this day, no recollection of what the poor kid was trying to tell me. I only remember it was about the food because he kept pointing at the service line.

Ah the joys of not speaking the local language. I really should brush up on my Hindi before I plan another trip.