My experience with the German embassy in Washington was heartwarming as it made me realize that the problem of bureaucracy was not unique to India. The lady at the visa counter refused my application the first time as she was terribly concerned that my insurance did not have an office in Europe. When I pointed out that my insurance covered me up to USD 2 million anywhere in the world, she displayed her mastery of bureaucratic doctrine with amazing finesse. She procured a photocopy of the rules for issuing a visa out of nowhere, underlined the relevant rule with a thick red pen, and pronounced in a grave voice reminiscent of the Oracles of Delphi, "MAAAAMSI (MAMSI is my insurance provider) does not have an office in Europe". Thus ended my first attempt to get a visa.
The standard trick of trying for the visa on another day of the week did not work as she also seemed to know about it. Finally, additional travel insurance for the trip from a different provider was sufficient to convince her and she condescended. I requested that the embassy mail my passport and documents back, only to get just my passport back without the documents. Clearly, papers I had submitted were found to be such fine specimens of required documentation that the embassy decided to preserve the originals as models for future visa applicants. So, gentle reader, expect to see them framed and displayed should you visit the German embassy for a visa.
My department insisted that I buy a ticket from an American carrier if at all I wanted to see any of my money refunded. Apparently, the US Congress has passed a "Fly America" act which says if federal funds are used for travel, US carriers need to be used. Now, this again illustrates the almost transcendental nature of bureaucracy as the Indian government also insists that people fly Air India. After trying to convince the department in vain that I would save them $100 by flying Lufthansa, I dutifully bought a ticket from Delta airlines, an American carrier, only to be informed that "your flight will be operated with the airplane and crew of our partner airline - Air France".
After weeks of booking ticket, getting visa, scouring for travel grant funding, practising the talk several times, yada, yada, yada, the big day dawned (or dusked, if you please) and I was at the Air France counter at Washington airport to board the flight to Paris Charles De Gaulle airport. Two semesters of French at college somehow made me bold enough to greet the lady in French. "Bonsoir madame", I intoned through my nose as the French are prone to speak, only to be greeted "Namaste" in return! Deciding that the lady's knowledge of Hindi was perhaps better than my knowledge of French (and Hindi), I decided to just keep mum henceforth, and she quickly issued the boarding passes with quiet efficiency.
The flight was marked by periodic supply of food by the hostesses and bursts of rapid-fire French and relatively slower English from the Captain. A night of sleepless sleep later, I was at "Chaa da Gaal" airport according to the hostess. For all the fuss of the German embassy, the visa examination at the airport turned out to be a relatively tame affair. Clearing the "passport control" took me inside Paris airport. From what I could see there, it was clear that my innate talent for grooming would have found great acceptability among the fashion gurus of France. For the non-cognoscenti, I have evolved this great style of grooming called "Hands free hair styling (TM)". The basic idea is to simply not do any shaving or combing. Usually, it gets me along comfortably for several weeks before some professor offers to pay for a shave and a haircut. Perhaps the French will suitably honor me for my talents with a Chevalier or something like that some day.
After meandering my way to my connecting flight to Germany, I was informed by the check-in person that there was no such thing as a vegetarian meal between Paris and Germany, which implied there was no such thing as a good lunch between Paris and Germany for me. An hour and a half later, I was at the Tegel airport in Germany. As I wanted to experience a slice of Berlin life first hand, I decided to take the subway and bus system to my hotel. I am proud to say that I and my luggage managed to arrive in three unbroken pieces at the train station nearest to the hotel. I started walking in the direction exactly away from the hotel, when my roommate, who had arrived earlier and was taking a stroll, happened to see me. He decided from my appearance that I had to be the graduate student he was sharing the room with and guided me to the hotel safely. A quick dinner at an Indian joint later, we decided to call it a day.
I had heard about the legendary German mastery over engineering, but then seeing is believing. On my way around the city, significant time was spent drooling at the Opel and Audi showrooms with the latest models (of cars, that is). The roads, though narrow, are utilized extremely well with a complex yet remarkably well-designed system of trams and buses. The number of cars seemed lower than in comparable US roads. One possible reason is that driving is actually taken seriously here. A licence costs EUR-1100 (yeah, 4 digits and 1 EUR = 1.25 USD) for every attempt to get it! The hotels rooms were relatively small (due to its location near the city center) and designed to extract the maximum from a small floorspace.
As we didn't exhibit any significant proficiency in German, the concierge helpfully offered us a "Tours in English" brochure. (As an aside, even the US president JFK couldn't correctly pronounce the German line his scriptwriter wrote. He made a statement of support in West-German Berlin intending to say "I am a Berliner", but ended up meaning "I am a jelly dough nut". ) After consulting the map with my roomie, we decided we had to go down what we decided to call Orangeburg (Oranienburger) road and reach what we decided to call Hacker's market (Hackescher Mart), which was the starting point of the tour. At Hacker's market, we arrived early to find a bunch of similar tourists waiting for the tour guide. The tour guide turned out to be an American student who had spent time in Germany.
Many of Berlin's touristique buildings are in and around the road whose name translates as "Under the Lime Trees". Hitler, it seems, did not like the lime trees as they interfered with his notorious parades, so the only limes one finds are in the name boards in German. As the guide seemed fond of pointing out, many of the buildings are older than America. Because many buildings were destroyed in the war and rebuilt later, the guide suggested a good way of deciding whether the stuff was antique or a modern fake. The idea is to look for bullet marks and crude fixes ! Apparently, most of the buildings which were there before the war still bear some of these marks. The tour took us to what the guide claimed was the site of Hitler's bunker, although the only thing visible above the ground was what looked like an apartment complex. Another high point was the remnant of the Berlin wall, which has been carefully sealed off from souvenir hunters.
That evening, we visited the Reichstag, or the parliament building. The German government allows people to get inside the building which has a top shaped like a dome with two spiral walkways. Beneath the dome, one can see the parliament of the German Republic meet and discuss presumably what are very important issues. The day ended with a dinner at Subway where I was delighted to discover that I could order a veggie sandwich by just pointing to a number.
The real networking in the networking conference started when all the attendees started showing up for the evening social event. Folks tried to maximize the probability of meeting up with new people, by following all sorts of interesting patterns. The day ended with a dinner of rice and green curry at a nearby Thai food place.
While I expected the conference to begin with a bang, it actually began with a bell. The organizers had come up with a very useful way of terminating small talk (NOT the object oriented programming language) among the attendees and ushering them to the hall. The bell, though small in size, showed the efficacy of German Engineering by producing a loud enough noise in almost all frequencies heard by mankind (and I suspect, other animals that called the building home), thus effectively shutting out any conversation which people were trying to have. Some delegates were disappointed not to get icecream, as is usual after hearing a bell ring.
Once the attendees had been made to actually attend, the conference began. The organizers had thoughtfully arranged for cookies or lunch after each session, thereby trying to make everything bearable. However, even constant supply of excellent European confectionery did not make it easy to digest several hours of bleeding edge research presentations. Consequently, I was too exhausted to do any intensive touring and settled for a walk along the Spree river (which encircles Berlin) after a dinner of rice and red curry at the Thai place.
Day 4 was slightly better as the number of sessions was limited due to a planned outing to Potsdam in the evening. The sessions were also more bearable as the human mind learns very quickly to insulate itself from constant bombardment of knowledge through PowerPoint slides.
The outing was to the San Soucci (French for without worry) palace. The guide seemed hyper-enthusiastic in explaining the life and times of Freidirich the great, a ruler of the Prussian throne. One possible explanation for the guide's enthusiasm was that he was attempting to create with his words, whatever was not still present due to the ravages of time! After visiting Freidirich's palace, garden, and grave in that order, we were shown around other features in the landscape of the ground. Tolstoy's observation that for all the wealth a man seeks, all he finally uses are six feet of ground for his grave, seemed strikingly apt. After the guide's description of the various orangeries (room to store orange trees during winter), greenhouses, and windmill on the palace grounds, I had a hard time convincing my buddies that Freidirich was not a successful agricultural entrepreneur.
A conference dinner followed the tour. The main idea was to network again. The waitress seemed positively shocked when I refused the champagne and asked for tap water instead. I had to specify that what I wanted was tap water as there is a tendency to carbonate all water. Incidentally, German wine glasses have a marking which informs the user how much s/he is drinking to the exact millilitre! I tried passing off my water as white wine, before somebody pointed out that floating ice cubes are usually not found in servings of wine. Back at the hotel, I had a last minute idea of thanking people in German at the end of my talk the next day. As the idea was not to amuse the Germans in the audience, I decided to learn the correct spelling and pronounciation from the concierge. After learning all about "Dankeschoen", I thanked him by saying "thank you very much" leaving him with a smile halfway between amusement and derision.
As I didn't want to get trapped due to any other misadventure of mine, I decided to leave for the venue very early. For once, I was earlier than all the organizers. My session began with the now standard bell and introduction by the session chair. The session chair commented that attendance was usually lesser during the first talk after the banquet as sobriety was a prerequisite to attend, but my animal magnetism and the esoteric significance of our work ensured a significant crowd. The butterflies I had in my tummy at the beginning of the talk took flight after the first few slides and I grew bold enough to warn the audience to watch out for the earthquake that was to follow after I presented our results. The talk ended with some interesting questions and comments, and that was that. Before long, the entire conference wound down to a close and it was time to bid adieu to buddies old and new. The good-byes were said, keep-in-touch email addresses were exchanged, and the whole place looked deserted by the time I was helping my German-organizer buddy pack up.
We decided to spend the evening at the Pergamon museum, perhaps, the best collection of ancient Greek sculptures. Western archaeologists have this remarkable ability to discover some interesting site outside their own country, painstakingly collect every single piece from that site, and ship everything back to their home country! To their credit, it must be said the collections are usually better maintained than what they would probably have been at the country of origin. From what I could see, the Greeks were great at depicting the body, human or animal, with surprising realism as early as 200 BC. The reconstruction of some parts of the ancient Pergamon temple and the gate of Babylon make one wonder about Time as the great leveller. After all, which mighty emperor would have foreseen that his master piece would end up a museum piece?
I took heart in the fond hope that I would visit this great city again; I decided to retain the remaining currency in Euros, just in case.