The Erasmus Mundus Masters in Journalism, in Europe

Mundus 2006 to 2008 class

In 2004 I decided to apply to the Deccan Herald for a job. I was writing for them on a freelance basis for years, but I was tired of spending my day working out of the house and wanted a full time job. The boys were in their final years of school and it was time for me to do more with my life I thought.

It was strange working in a huge office with hundreds of journalists, quite different from the advertising office I had run and the pre-school I ran too-- all out of our home. It was an absolutely new experience for me and something I quite enjoyed to a point. I enjoyed the coffee man coming to my table giving me a piping hot cup of coffee twice a day and going down to the canteen for a delicious veggie meal which cost a princely Rs 35, cut out of my salary!

Some of  us infront of the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen

I enjoyed working with a team, running around town covering food and movies and fashion shows and even flying to Mumbai to cover the Sting Concert and Mark Knopfler no less. Life was good and I was enjoying moving onto writing about the heritage of the city and making a name for myself there.

But I was chafing at the bit. Having been used to running my own office and being my own boss for 12 years running my ad agency I found the time bound day, and yes-sir-no-sir difficult to handle. I was Chief Sub no doubt, but male patriarchy was something I was unused to with a Dad who had no such illusions. We were all equal, male and female.

In Amsterdam for our final party

After two years I applied for a fellowship which happened to be sent to me by a journalist who was based in Mumbai, whom I met at one of the events I covered. She said--” Apply! And all the best! Very few get chosen!”

So when I was selected for the Erasmus Mundus Masters in Journalism, it was a dream that any young woman would give their eye-teeth for, forget me in my late forties. I could not breathe when I opened the email which said I had won a 42,000 Euro scholarship to study in Europe and to choose my countries from the list sent. I had to choose THREE countries to do modules in Journalism which I wanted to do.

Yes he was my professor in Amsterdam!

I chose Aarhus in Denmark, Amsterdam in The Netherlands and Wales, in the UK. I could have chosen Germany for the final one year sem, but I avoided it. It was exciting to be applying for my visa to leave and my sister and Aunt in Australia told me about a relative who was in Aarhus, no less, since the ‘70’s. It was the most thrilling ride of my life and I grabbed it with both hands.

Denmark was wonderful and like I wrote in my stream of articles which I sent back to the Deccan Herald, I looked out of my University apartment and stared at the handsome men and women who cycled by. Every single one of them were fit and slim and so good looking, I wondered if I had got lost in some movie. The Danes are a very handsome race, not an ounce of fat as they cycle everywhere. It was the beginning of the opening of my mind to academics and life, which changed me forever.

We went to The Hague for my Birthday to the World Peace Palace.

It was in Europe where I learned how to travel in trains and enjoy the countryside rather than fly around like I was used to. Europe has the most wonderful train system ever and our student passes gave us an opening to a world we exploited to the hilt. Every weekend was a new town or city and every weekend I got food & fodder for my next article.

It was in the classroom where I was pitted against 20 and 21 year olds, besides a few my age. That really made me realise that our Indian system of education just makes kids who ‘by-heart’ information and do not use their own logic, and skills to research. I was re-educated from the bottom up and I loved every minute of it.

Blue bells in the Hendrofolean student village that I lived in, in Wales.

Tech savvy me?? I turned tech savvy after two years of the Mundus. We had to research in the most wonderful wired libraries, we had to load our assignments on platforms, we learned how to use plagiarism checkers, fact checkers, the works. I loved it -- it was such a roller coaster ride.  Best of all I learned how to work with a team and make PPT presentations of our work. Stand up infront of a class of 38 of the best minds in the world and defend my assignment with my team.

I learned to use a debit card in Aarhus, there were no banks filled with people to dole out my money, like in India. I learned to buy tickets off a vending machine at 10pm at night, when returning from a group brain-storming session, in Amsterdam. And best of all I learned about art. I splurged on a card which gave me access to all 400 art museums in Amsterdam. I went to  hundreds of them across Amsterdam and learned about all the masters of art in European world and wrote for the art section of the Sunday Herald. Rembrandt and Van Gogh, Monet & Renoir, Da Vinci & Raphael I was introduced to their world and the beauty of their art.

My flatmates in Swansea, Wales.

I learned to travel over the length and breadth of every city that I lived in and see and taste all the different cuisines which were on offer. I NEVER pined for Indian food like some Indian students and instead revelled in teaching my classmates how to make easy Indian dishes instead, while they taught me theirs.

I learned to keep my room and toilet spick and span or get ready to be fined. We Indians are naturally dirty. And I learned to segregate my waste and not dump it all in one container, besides learning to share my food. Cook a little extra, put a label to it and leave it in the common kitchen in Amsterdam and Wales. It was a whole new world for me and I learned the respect of other cultures and not cringe and cry for my own.  That’s what studying abroad does to the mind -- it opens you to new experiences.

Lisbet and Isabel taking our pictures in Amsterdam!!

I made friends for life from across the world. Many were younger than me and so looked to me for help and advice. That’s part of student life and one learns to be caring and sharing. I was shocked at how some of the Asian kids would just demand things from their parents inspite of such a big allowance that we got. I instead saw the European kid work after hours to earn money by Data Entry or even cleaning jobs.And yet we Indians pat ourselves on our back and denigrate western culture, which is ridiculous.

The Erasmus Mundus changed my life. I came back every four months ‘cause I had a family and kids.The others loafed across Europe, but I did not mind as I had already done that by Eurorail, backpacking with my husband. I never chose to study in Germany for my final sem, ‘cause I heard stories of racism which I am told is not there today ( don't know and don't really care) Instead I chose Wales ‘cause Catherine Zita Jones came from Mumbles!

A canal boat ride in Amsterdam

I loved Wales and that’s where I came into my own in the University of Wales, Swansea by the sea. I volunteered with the Sisters of Charity -- Mother Teresa’s sisters and cooked once a week at their shelter. I volunteered in church and cooked an Indian meal for students which the Parish priest relished most of all! My dissertation guide was an Indian by roots but born and bred in Jamaica. I chose her and am so glad I did as her guidance made my dissertation on Naxalism, seamless.

And I came back to my family --ready to take on the world, while I left classmates who found jobs and lived on and still live in the UK. Many years later when I did my PhD it was one of my classmates who is a professor now in Florida who reviewed my PhD thesis -- Professor Azmat Rasul. 

We worked as a team for an assignment.

I did not stay long in the Deccan Herald though I went back and was rewarded as Assistant Editor, instead I quit to start the Media Section in St. Joseph’s College with Fr. Ambrose and till today share my skills with youngsters doing their Post Grads.

Life took on a whole new hue after I went for the Erasmus Mundus and I am eternally grateful to the European Union to have given me the chance to change from my hum-drum life. 

Forty-two thousand Euros was the value of my fellowship and in true Indian fashion I saved most of it and was able to give my son my card, so he could pay his rent, when he went to study in the UK

   

Ofcourse I loved Bath in the UK

Writing kiddy books and other novels

The girls two books getting posted out faster than I can keep up Once upon a time--- once upon a time -- she always started her stories with --” once upon a time”. My maternal grandmum, Ethel Pereira, who was young and plump and smelled of lavender talcum powder always sat on the bedroom steps and told us stories every night. Sometimes it was in the light of the huge big moon and thats where I learnt to see a rabbit in the moon! She was always laughing and joking with us, especially solemn eldest me and always stitching the most delightful dresses for both my sister Christine and me. My maternal grandfather Michael Pereira was a slim and gentle soul who had the most amazing collection of books on a revolving bookshelf. We could lie on the diwans for hours, my sister and me and read his whole collection of Perry Masons and Sherlock Holmes and his only diktat was -- no reading while you eat and no turning down pages, here are bookmarks.

Weighing and telling us the cost of postage in the Richmond Town PO Grandma Ethel’s stories definitely have played a huge role in my evolving as a writer. I write for a living for decades and get paid by the word. First as a journalist and now teaching writing skills among other subjects to PG journalists in Mount Carmel’s College, Jyoti Nivas College and ofcourse St. Joseph’s college, Bangalore. So one day when I was faced with suddenly turning into a grandmother myself and immediately having to tell stories to keep the little girls engaged, where did I search for ideas?? Of Course my grandmother’s wonderful tales. They were as one could say, my spring-board for my font of stories which I told Alaina and Natalie and I loved to see their still faces, concentrating on my words and their eyes, imagining my far fetched tales!

Bonny and I had fun making up the packets to post. Both have very successful Dads who never grudge them anything. No food or drink, no toys or books, no holidays and trips, it was hard for me as a grandmum to think of gifts for them. My sons do not allow fetishes but they do not stint on buying them stuff ever. So I decided one day to write them a special story with them and their Dads in it -- get it personally illustrated and give it to them for Christmas. It was expensive -- not my story, that flowed out like a stream from my mind but the illustrations and the digital printing. Each story had to be read by the artist who was my colleague in Deccan Herald. An absolute professional. I loved Yathish work as he had done my earlier kiddy book -- The One Eyed Ogre and other stories. I wanted ONLY him to do my illustrations. Ofcourse I sent him pictures to show him what a cardinal looked like or a dandelion flower, or even Davids house and garden! But it was a bad thing because the first book for Alaina got done only in six months. And the book for Natalie TWO years -- I kid you not! The reason was simple, his computer crashed and lost most of his work which he had completed. It was hard for him to pick up and get back, but he did, the poor guy and I waited, patiently.

My next book on the table which is 15 stories long! Finally both books are DONE and before the girls can see them, they are getting sold and are almost sold out! It’s exciting to see how many packages my husband and myself have made and taken them down to the Richmond Town PO and speed posted them. Expensive? Yes Of Course! I am not making back my money, but who cares -- I want kids to read them and treasure them! The books are expensive because the artist costs around 10 k and the digital printing another 18 k cause I want only imported art paper and a laminated cover! If you want the best, you pay big money, and that's ok. Might as well give them a legacy.I know 100 books are the expensive bit cause if I printed 500 it would cost less.

Fun reading my books at kiddy schools in the city. So, for my next book -- yes, I have written a 15 story book now which is on the table getting done, I used an old friend as illustrator who lives in Goa. I chanced on Air Marshall Giles Gomez at a show in Bangalore and we had schooled in sister institutions -- he in St Columbas and I in Jesus and Mary School , New Delhi. He had taken voluntary retirement with his airforce doc wife and bought the family home in Goa and refurbished it to modern standards. Over lunch he told me he was enjoying cartooning which was his hobby and that’s when I jumped in, both feet forward. Could he do the cartoons for my “Boysterous Living” my 15 story book which was all about the pranks my boys had been upto which was especially for all four kids now -- Alaina, Aiden, Natalie and Arthur. All about their Dads and their uncle Steven. Giles raced through the sketches in a month. But, finding a graphic designer to do the layout which Yatish did for me always as part of the job was tough. Finally I am working with GAAP Communications -- a friend who is putting the book together while I Plan how many copies I want. Seeing how the single story books flew off the shelves I am making 500 this time for sure.

My book on Parkinsons in 2019 My sweet daughter-in-law ( more a daughter) Annika has packed my suitcase with beautiful gift sacks as they call them in the US. Those who are coming home to collect get a sack and those I have to post get a cloth lined envelope from on top of the road. Meanwhile I keep getting alerts from all my friends who have ordered, that the books in Bangalore have reached safely and they are so excited to have them. It’s a lovely feeling being a creative writer. It is a gift that one can hone over the years and brings you such a lot of good will and satisfaction. And I know it was my Dad who prodded me on with my first book-- Above the Ricefields of Pilerne. I took 10 years to finish it, well after he died but that was the start.

The book that started the deluge Today I don't need prodding -- books pour out of me and they keep me busy for most of the year besides my lectures in college. It’s a good life to enjoy one’s work, then its entertainment and not work.

Writing story books for my girls

The launch of the One Eyed Ogre book with Fr Ambrose Pinto my then principal of St. Joseph's, Penelope Edwards who had been my classmate in school for 2 years in SHGHS and Francisco Saldanha then President of the CC. I never cared about writing kiddy stories till I worked in the Deccan Herald and Daksha Hathi who was incharge of the Open Sesame came and said I want a story for my next issue written by you -- go for it. Hell! I was writing fashion and food and reviewing movies and flying all over the place covering musicians like Sting and Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits. Who the heck would write a kiddy story? But I love a challenge and so picked up Daksha’s gauntlet and racked my brain for an idea. As they say stories come out of a writer’s head, from their experiences and something they have read and ----out flowed “ The One Eyed Ogre”. Illustrated beautifully by the designers, my story obviously caught the reader kids attention, with a one eyed ogre no less and I had an excited Daksha come running to say -- write some more -- write another -- the kids loved your story and look at the letters she said waving a bgi sheaf of them! It was not yet email time, hard copy letters were still in fashion.

My " One Eyed Ogre" Book which is sold out now. So I delved into my childhood where my Mum’s grandmother was the super grandma story teller of all time. Her stories kept us entranced every single day we spent holidaying with her in Baroda. We sat on her bedroom steps and listened, while she wove the most outlandish tales. And the more outlandish the better they were for us. And then suddenly I was grown up and had my own sons and I never had the time to tell them stories. But I did encourage them to read and so did my parents thank God. And so till today my son David and the youngest Steve, never feel alone like me, ‘cause they always have a book to keep them company. Stacks of books,that they spend their savings on driving me crazy because it’s way crazier than I ever was.

Alaina's Dandelion Christmas gift book And then I have two DIL’s, who are crazy readers too and so to my great happiness their homes are overflowing with books and they read as passionately and fanatically too. It's good to be non compos mentis about books especially if you are like me, living on the written word.And I am forever grateful to my Mum who taught me to learn one new word everyday, so I do -- I still do and there’s plenty more to learn and use. Then, along came my grand daughters and presto-- what is the best way to keep them happy and engaged? Well tell them a story and ofcourse the more outlandish the better. After all they are MY grand girls!

Am invited all the time to kiddy schools So, I decided last Christmas when we all met to celebrate Christmas together in London, to give them a book as a gift. A book with a story written especially for them and illustrated beautifully and printed to boot. It was expensive ‘cause the illustrations cost me a pretty packet and the colour printing as well.

Natalie's special book But my story is not over yet -- right from going to the Colour Xerox place to get the books digitally printed, I was met with excitement from all who handled the book. The graphic designer who opened up my PDF on a pendrive, just loved the look of the book. The printer who digitally ran off 50 copies for me kept looking at me and then finally asking if I was the author! The trimmer who trimmed the sheets and stapled them to make them into a book, told me he had a granddaughter and could he have one book and I gave him two! And finally the owner who said Maam, can I have a photo with you, the author of a kiddy book printed here is a proud moment for us!

Another picture with the interested kids I felt like a star and ofcourse wallowed in all the adulation. And carried the books home all beautifully wrapped in brown paper to put into my suitcase to take to the girls. The joy and wonder on their faces on Christmas Day I will never forget and was worth all the effort and money I had spent. “ My own story book? No one else has a book like this? You wrote the story just for me? And your friend from the newspaper did all the drawings? All my thanks was emblazoned across their lovely baby faces. It made my Christmas and it made all the effort worthwhile. So, promptly I came home to India and wrote 15 stories at a stretch. Fifteen wonderful tales about their Dads and their Uncle Steven and then began my search for an illustrator. Yes, Yatish had moved on from the paper and I had helped get him into Infosys, where they recognised his humongous talent and kept him busy.

Another school in Sarjapur So, I wracked my brains and then suddenly, quite by accident I met with an old Delhi classmate who is a Doctor out of AIIMs and was an Air Marshal heading the Military Hospital in Bangalore. The section that had the hyperbaric chambers which saved my Mums leg in a horrific accident. Giles said he had donned another avatar with retirement and was illustrating besides running a tiny clinic with his wife in Moira, Goa.And he would be proud to illustrate my book. Ofcourse I had to listen to how he and his gang came for all the sports meets to watch me run and win. How I never even deigned to look at them. Well-- who had time to look at ugly, pimply classmates! My book is on the graphic designers table and soon 15 stories will be made into a lovely book for my little girls to enjoy about their Dads. All the pranks they were upto as kids, all the schoolboy stuff they did, the prizes they won, the fun they had, all wrapped up and written down into a book.

Many adults love my book That's what grandmas are for and I am glad I am upholding my grandmas tradition of story telling, though in a more sophisticated avatar. In an illustrated book which they can save for a lifetime. Just sad that my parents are not here to see, what their prodding has done to me finally! http://waltermenezes.blogspot.com/2010/07/story-book-for-children-one-eyed-ogre.html