Olympics in India

Friday night's Olympics opening ceremony happened to coincide with a bout of food poisoning -- or whatever the hell makes you nauseous for 48 hours straight without actually throwing up. I haven't missed an opening ceremony since 1992 -- e.g. before I was conscious of the "Olympics" -- so I tried my best to stay awake, but at 12:30 a.m. nothing remotely opening ceremony-esque was showing up on the live feed, so I left my crowd of multicultural comrades in the living room and schlepped to bed. Around 5 a.m, my roommate opened the bedroom door, plopped down on his floor mattress and fell asleep. Apparently blinding hallway light and unmistakable party sounds from the living room don't bother sleeping East Africans, but I -- with my high-and-mighty bed frame and Western standards -- was immediately jarred awake.

This whole post might be a passive-aggressive jab at my roommate, were it not for the fact that his eccentric sleeping habits allowed me to hear the unmistakable sounds of the Olympic opening ceremony from the living room. Thanks, bro!

So, with a twinkle in my eye and the spirit of the Games in my heart, I skipped down the hallway and found a pack of roommates, friends and associates watching the London march of athletes on a moderately-sized computer screen. I squeezed in between one roommate from Peru and another associate from Egypt on the couch, and commenced the gossiping and screen-shouting.

Watching the opening ceremony certainly made me proud to be American, particularly when comparing team strengths and weaknesses with my internationally diverse array of  comrades. "Oh, how many athletes does Serbia have this year? 115? Ya, America has 529, soooo....y'knowwwww..."

Really though, I was pretty lucky to be able to watch an Olympics ceremony with an incredibly diverse crew. Hearing other country's takes on the Games was interesting to say the least. Among other conclusions, I've deduced that pretty much the only time anyone in the world watches swimming is during the Olympics.

Now if I can just get my roommates to watch some Team USA basketball with me, I can really get an ego boost...

Go forth, grand athletes! Make America proud!

Indian 1% Put the American 1% to Shame

Last weekend, driving through South Bombay after dinner, one of my friends pointed out the 27-story personal tower of Mukesh Ambani. He noted that the tower's amenities included several floors serving as car showrooms, and a massive ice skating rink serving as another floor. I think I may have muttered something then about "wasteful" or "insensitive," but what I meant to say was "Boss-status!" and then pretend I'm shooting a basketball, the international sign for "ballin'."

Because if there's one thing this country appreciates, it's tasteful moderation.

Of course, this is Mumbai, so right outside the tower there were decaying storefronts and a few beggars wandering around. Even in the relatively posh South Bombay, I took the little trappings of destitution to be par for the course. 

I was thus happy to see a fairly thoughtful breakdown of why India's nicest neighborhoods are, like, not really that nice in the Wall Street Journal today. Hint: It's not because the rich aren't rich enough. 

"The contrast between the popping champagne corks inside and the filth outside is striking. Again, the simple economics of incentives explains why. Many of the wealthy diners who frequent these establishments pull right up to the entrance, and so don't need to worry about the filth outside," writes Rupa Subramanya, referring to upscale restaurants in midtown Mumbai located in shoddy neighborhoods.

Basically, Subramanya contends that Mumbai's rich have no emotional stake in their neighborhoods, since it doesn't cost much to hire a 24/7 driver and roll through the fecal-filled streets in a tinted-window Escalade, sipping mineral water and breathing circulated air imported from the Himalayas. She argues that the Indian aristocrats take care of the public services that matter to them -- electricity, for instance -- and as long as the infrastructural absurdities of the outside world don't impede on their personal space, they feel no civic duty to demand improvements. Even if their "personal space" happens to be a 27-story mega-apartment.

Fair enough -- but I still don't think the article gets to the core of why Mumbai's wealthy don't demand infrastructural and design improvements to their neighborhoods at large. As Subramanya herself points out, in places like the U.S., there is a clear relationship between real estate quality and the quality of the surrounding sidewalks, parks, public schools, etc. If you were to build a mansion in the middle of the Bronx, for instance, you'd of course be hard-pressed to make a profit, because the poor quality of the surrounding houses and public services directly affects the value of the house. Expensive houses are in expensive neighborhoods, ipso facto.

In India, I would be very curious to see how "neighborhood quality" affects house valuation. The wealthy are of course "clustered" here as in other places -- it's not like you'll find a personal showroom in the middle of Dharavi. But still, if I built a 27-story tower for myself, I'd want to make damn sure my neighborhood is pristine, classy and ideally not near any shanty-towns. I don't know if it's a lack of civic duty, or if its just impossible to distance yourself from the poverty here, but I'd certainly like to find out.

On that note, any Indian billionaires want to hang out this weekend?

Drug Makers: "Fuck this, we're going to India."

At my job recently, I've been researching certain pharmaceutical and biotechnology companies investments in emerging markets -- particularly Brazil, India and China -- and hot dog if these companies aren't licking their chops at the opportunities. Pricing pressures in the U.S. and Europe means that drug companies are going to increasingly rely on the exploding middle classes of BRIC countries to drive sales. Spending on drugs are going to double in emerging markets in the next five years, according to the New York Times - now that's a win/win for drug companies and B.Doyle. Oh yea, and for India.

Above: India and pharmaceutical companies, meeting for the first time. 

Needless, I'm going to walk to work with a little extra pep in my step tomorrow. Unless it's monsooning again...in that case I'll tell the rickshaw driver to sing that lil' Hindi diddy extra loud, for ol' B.Doyle. Fuck ya.