I'm back from NYC. The Engineers without Borders conference was cool. I learned how to build buildings properly and mix concrete. I also met some interesting people... I love rolling my brain around in things so different from what I normally think about.

I cut out early from the conference to go wander around NYC on my own. I found my way to Jackson Heights -- the Little India of NYC. I guess I'm homesick. Jackson Heights is pretty much as close to India as you can get in this country. The air is redolent with the heavy fragrance of incense, samosas, and bhaang. Ummm mmm mmm. I spent a while there looking at all of the clothing shops, food stalls, and jewelry stores. I bought a few books, kajal, and a simple saree which I plan to transform into something interesting once I get access to a sewing machine [december?].

Its funny. I always thought that I was "very Indian" and that, in essence, I was "one of the people." But walking thru Jackson Heights was a revelation. I'd often catch a reflection of myself in a mirror and what struck me was how god-awfully out-of-place I looked in my surroundings. I was dressed in my professional get-up [the sum total of my outfit was probably ~$400... yikes! ] and, with my hair cut short, I looked so FOREIGN in the Indian ghetto. Sadness.

What's weird is that I always sort of associated myself with the self-image of being a member of the poor-immigrant crowd. And, perhaps, for most of my childhood, that image was painfully true. I'm realizing now that this image has slowly transformed into fiction now. The issue I deal with now is not so much attaining priveledge or proving that I am more than poor brown trash, but figuring out what to do with the power and priveldge that I have and will have.