Thursday, November 17, 2011

Amdu

It was one of those Fridays when I had no plans for the weekend. When I trudged into my apartment on that fateful evening, I found a piece of paper on the floor. At first it struck me as something that might have fallen off the trash can that morning. I picked it up to examine it. Surprise, surprise!! It was a handwritten note somebody had slipped under the door. Now that got me thinking. The last time somebody left a note for me was when the housekeeping lady found that I had left the window open during a rainy day when I had the "precious" television set I had rented from them for the first month lying around somewhere within "wettable" distance. What had I done this time? 

Surprise again! It was not from the housekeeping lady. The contents of the note were somewhat like this: 

"Hi, I am your new neighbor in apartment no. blah blah blah. Just wanted to let you know that a couple of my friends are coming over later tonight. We'll try to keep it down as much as possible. Feel free to drop by if you want. Best regards, Amdu"

A lot of things about this note intrigued me. First, why does one have to inform me that he (I assumed it is a he, as a "she"wouldn't have left notes inviting strangers over) is having a party next door? And further, why invite me, since he doesn't even know me? Certainly unheard of in India. Hey, wait, neighbors do invite you over for Satsang in North India, when they play loud music (devotional, mind you), rendering all and sundry awake in the name of God, regardless of his approval. Aptly christened (no pun intended) Jagran, people stay up overnight, and make sure neighbors do too, voluntarily or otherwise. Such a scenario seemed unlikely in this country, even if the neighbors were Indian. 

Now, since I had nothing to do that weekend, and also since I had no friends in Baltimore so far, and even more so because of the social bug that I am, the invitation seemed pretty tempting to me. So I asked one of my friends here who has stayed in this country for a year more than I have. 

"It happens frequently here," she explained, "Playing loud music is generally considered rude and unacceptable, but on weekend evenings, it is more or less acceptable to a limit. The best and the most polite strategy that people adopt in this situation is to invite neighbors over. While people are not actually expected to go and join in, it is considered as soliciting an unofficial approval.." 

I took in the information carefully. So, I wasn't expected to actually join in. So I turned my attention towards the last and the most intriguing thing about the note (which you would have already guessed since it is the name of this blog post), which was the name of my new neighbor- Amdu. 

I know it is quite an uncommon name, to say the least. And this is exactly how it was spelt.

The name that inspired a blog
Now, knowing how much we, humans like making deductions, no matter how unnecessary and irrelevant, it wouldn't be hard for you to imagine that I started thinking about the nationality / origin of the person bearing this unique name. Somehow, and I reiterate this, somehow, I got a feeling that this person was an Asian. That was the first thing that struck me while I heard the name. While I cannot substantiate the reasoning behind this thought, everything I thought of seemed to add to this whim of mine. When I looked at the name in the note carefully, a part of me even imagined that the hand writing had a Mandarin-like touch to it (or an in writu version of a chinese accent). He can't be Chinese, Japanese or Korean, as the name pattern doesn't suggest so (for that matter, you might argue that the name pattern doesn't suggest anything at all; but please bear with me for the time being). I thought of other countries. Thailand, Indonesia, Malaysia and Philippines came to mind. He could be from any of these. Now, as I told you at least twice already on this blog post, I actually had NOTHING to do that weekend, so I did a search for the name "Amdu" on facebook (height of joblessness). The reasoning behind this was that if it is a common name in some country, most people whose names came up would be from that particular country, narrowing it down considerably (say, like searching for Kumar or Singh would presumably reveal the locations as India for the vast majority, though I wouldn't bet against Canada). The search revealed a lot of people equally distributed between USA, Germany, Ethiopia and Israel, among a few others. Hell, one of the items that turned up in the search was not even a person, but a university!! (I guess AMDU might be an acronym of some sort). And I couldn't get a look of most of their pictures due to privacy settings (and I was highly reluctant to send them friend requests) which would have allowed me to see if their features were Asian. So much for narrowing down. I still strongly felt this guy was Asian, and like a scientist who feels that the experiment is not right or the literature is irrelevant if he does not find what he is looking for, I refused to abandon the idea. 

That night, around 9:30 pm, I did hear some music. It was so soft that I couldn't make out the genre, let alone the language. Soon, my imagination flowed, and I pictured a situation where I would have accepted the invite and walked over to their place. I would be greeted by a friendly Asian guy, and would be offered a green tea and some chopsuey maybe. The hall would be full of Asians, some in flowing robes, talking in their language (with the extended word pronunciations) in an animated way, while eating noodles with their chopsticks. Traditional Chinese music (the kind I heard in Kung fu Panda and Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon- God alone knows if it is traditional) would be playing in the background. I will feel as if I've entered a foreign country, and would try to soak in the atmosphere and the new culture much as I can, but would soon realize that this is not where I belong, and my place right now would be in front of my laptop, watching a critically acclaimed zombie movie (which was what I was actually doing at that moment- can you believe the coincidence?). Thus after feeding my whim till it was ready to throw up, I left Amdu and his party alone. 

The next day, I was preparing to leave for the lab for half a day's worth of work. As I was locking my apartment, I saw him for the first time. There he was, next door, locking his door too. Amdu was a young man, maybe around 23-24, with a boyish look on his face and a gentle smile. And guess what, he WAS Asian! Proud of my deductive talents, I proceeded to choose this moment to pick up a conversation with my neighbor. 

"Hi!"

I seemed to have startled him. He took a couple of moments to recuperate.

"Hi" He grinned at me politely now.

"I found your note yesterday. So, had fun last night?" I beamed at him. "I heard you guys last night. But don't worry, I wasn't disturbed or anything."

He smiled at me. His smile had a sheepish look. I have noticed that some people's smiles have a naturally sheepish look without them having necessarily done anything embarrassing.

"So you live here?" He asked in heavily accented English, unsure of how to continue the conversation.

"Yes, since May."

Once we had both locked our doors, we proceeded towards the elevator. 

"So you are in Hopkins?" I asked, out of the knowledge that most people who stayed in this locality were students in Johns Hopkins University.

"Yes. I am a graduate student. What about you?"

"I am a post doctoral fellow."

"In Hopkins?"

"No, I work at NIH, in Bayview. Which field are you doing your PhD in?"

"Economics. What about you? What field are you doing research in?"

"Immunology."

"Wow, you must be really smart." His expressions did not suggest any sarcasm when he said that. Which was strange, if I come to think of it.

I smiled, taken by surprise at this utterly unexpected response from him, and unsure as to how to react.

"Nothing like that.." I managed to say weakly.

I have no clue why an immunologist should be perceived as any smarter than an economist or somebody from any other field for that matter. What is wrong with this world?

As the elevator stopped at the ground floor, it was time to exchange introductions. Moreover, I was keen to hear him pronounce his name. 

"I am Gautam", I said, extending my hand for a shake.

Amdu shook my hand. 

"Nice to meet you." he said, without telling me his name.

Disappointed, I thought of how to turn the conversation towards his nationality/origin. Before I could come up with something, we had exited the building and gone in opposite directions after wishing the other a good day.

The next time I saw Amdu was on another Saturday morning about a 2-3 weeks later. And again, we both were locking our apartments.

"Hey! Good morning! No one came over last night? I couldn't hear anything.." I grinned at him

I seemed to have startled him again. But this time he reacted sooner.

"Hello, good morning! Going to work?"

"Yeah, a bit of work pending. So how is your PhD going?" Always a bad question. I immediately cursed myself for asking him that.

"I have just started. It has been only one year now." He didn't seem to take the question badly. Wait, it has only been a year.. 

Then I got a phone call and we couldn't continue the conversation and therefore my desire to hear him say his own name remained unmet.

The next couple of times I met him in the corridor and we just "Hi"ed each other, and since we were going in the opposite directions, a conversation was out of question. 

During this time, I remember having a conversation with my sister who too, took a fancy to the name "Amdu". 

"I think he is from Thailand or Malaysia",  I told her when she asked me about the curious nature of the name .

Soon, she made it a point to ask me about him every time we talked, just so that she could say/hear his name. 

"So, how is that friend of yours with that cute-iful name?", she would ask.

"Who, Amdu?" I'd say.

She would giggle at his name.

 "I had met him the other day.."  That was it.

We both knew that the other was not actually interested in whether or not I had met him. It was all about the name. And they say, "What's in a name!!"

That was until this unfortunate incident happened.

On this fateful Friday evening, when I was travelling out of town to meet a friend, I was locking my apartment door (again!). This time I saw someone locking the apartment on the right side of mine, as opposed to Amdu's apartment on the left side. He was a tall white guy. Looked about the same age as Amdu, but was Caucasian. We greeted each other as we caught the other's eye. He caught up with me as I was waiting for the elevator.

"So, travelling this weekend?" He asked cheerfully, noticing my travel bag.

"Yup" I said.

As I stepped into the elevator with him, a thought struck me like lightning. I didn't remember which apartment number was mentioned in that note. Was it possible that...

"So you are in Hopkins?" It was my turn to be questioned.

"I work at Bayview, as a post doc." I told him. "What about you?"

"I am at Hopkins. But I just joined recently. Moved in just a couple of months back."

That was approximately the time when I had received the note. And Amdu had told me he had been here for a year. The note had mentioned "new neighbor." How did I ever overlook that? It was all  materializing before me like a pot appearing on a wheel from clay.

I had to confirm before driving the final nail in the coffin in which I was about to bury the bloated image of my supreme deductive powers. Which was not based on any sense of reasoning, mind you.

"So, you are.. uhm.. Andy?" I asked, muttering the first Western name I could think of that could possibly be confused with Amdu.

"Andre". That was it. Crash! Bang! Thud!

"And you are?"

"Gautam.", I said, disinterestedly.

"Nice meeting you. Enjoy your weekend!!" he said cheerfully.

As soon as I stepped out of the apartment, I realized that I had forgotten to pack something. So I went back and waited for the elevator. And when it stopped, who should step out of it but the old Amdu! There he was, beaming at me, like a cruel joke.

"Hi!" He said enthusiastically.

"Hi!" It was my turn to sport a sheepish smile.

And the shy Amdu, with whom every time it was me who initiated a conversation, finds this the best moment to open up.

"So, going somewhere?" 

"Yeah, calling on a friend."

"Have fun"

Yeah, right. It was almost like we were in a cartoon strip, and he could read my thoughts. And he was having the last laugh.

Since I was going inside the apartment anyway, I decided to have one more look at the signed note I had received that day. The apartment number corresponded to that from which Andre, not Amdu, had emerged. And about the signature - It does look like "Andre" now, doesn't it? I still think it looks more like Amdu.

The hand writing that inspired a blog
But, it wasn't. So, that is irrelevant. And that is how I ended up feeling like a scientist who not just made a hypothesis, but wrote a grant based on preliminary data that was never substantiated. Hell, that sounds familiar!

So the party that I had imagined to have taken place the other night was all wrong. I might have been offered beer with pizza, they might have played rock music, talked in English, and would be wearing..... Well, let us leave it at that. Else it will be another case of, "Here I go again!".

The repercussions of my folly slowly started to sink in. For all you know, Amdu might have had his girlfriend stay over and was getting lucky on  that night when I received the note. My comments the morning after about whether he had a good time last night and "I could hear you" might have caught him.. well.. by surprise. Maybe that explained the sheepish smile. Oh, and I had even asked him on another Saturday whether no one came over the night before. Well, what do I say?

"Zeese bloody Indians, zey are funny", he must have thought.

Damn! 

To be honest, Amdu was a polite guy, not in the least cocky, but had he been so, I could have pulled off a fantastic pun about confusing a cocky Asian with a Caucasian.

Well, it turns out that Amdu's last name is Lee (boring!) - which I gathered from his mail box, and he told me he is a Korean. I still don't know what his first name is. 

And I don't want to know it, for, to me, he will always be Amdu.. 

And if universe continues to work in its mysterious ways, one day both Andre and Amdu will be in the same elevator together discussing this blog post and laughing their heads off at what an ass I am.

Now, that would be surreal.