A few weeks into my
new job took me to my first out-of-town work trip. I was going to stay in a
hotel overnight. Being the true researcher than I am, I had looked up a nice
place to eat dinner. It had very high ratings, the reviews were stellar, and it
was not too far from my hotel. I had even checked the menu beforehand, making
sure I knew what I was going to order. I landed all tired, checked in to my
hotel, dropped off my bags and headed for dinner.
I ordered the braised
lamb shank, skeptical about how tough or tender it would be. I asked the
waitress if there will be a bone and she said yes. However, she assured me that
separating the meat from the bone will not be an issue. I didn’t quite believe
her since I have eaten lamb before, but I went ahead and ordered nevertheless.
I didn’t want to create a mess, struggling to use my fork and knife.
And while I was at it,
I went ahead and ordered a glass of sangria too. I am not your average alcohol
drinker, but I thought that would relax me after a long day. I had spent an
entire day at work and then taken the bus for another two hours to get here.
The first sip of
sangria sent me spiraling down to Heaven. It instantly relaxed my muscles and
made my eyes droopy. I had first tasted sangria earlier this year and loved it.
While the cheaper ones were, umm, cheap, the more expensive ones were a gateway
to Heaven.
In between, my order
of lamb shank arrived, all wonderfully flavorful.
As I put my knife and
fork on the meat, ready to cut it, it came out of the bone on its own. It was
so well-done that I did not have to struggle with it at all. I spent the next
hour or so enjoying the most tender meat I have eaten amid sips of sangria. The
meal was very expensive by my standards, and I absolutely knew why.
At some point, the
sangria must have hit my head. For I was suddenly engulfed with a sense of
guilt. Only a month ago, I was a penurious postdoc. I hardly earned anything.
Since I traveled a lot, I traveled on a low budget. I took trains at odd hours like 3 am just to save some money. I made sure that I ate
inexpensive food, which was often roadside Turkish food. Although Europe is
considered food Heaven, the only time I had eaten at an expensive restaurant
was during a Christmas celebration when the department took us out and paid for it. If I was
going to be traveling all day, I made sure I was carrying home-cooked food. I
ordered the cheapest food, skipping drinks and dessert. I always kept two
apples and two bananas in my bag, in case I got very hungry. I realized that I
was carrying two bananas in my bag even that day, more out of habit than need.
Here I was eating one of the most expensive things on the menu, but still had emergency
food in the bag. I even paid a fat tip that day.
The hotel I was
staying at was a standard American hotel. It usually means a huge room, a huge
television I never watch, a king bed, most of which goes unoccupied, half a
dozen pillows never used, half a dozen towels in the bathroom never used, and
so on. If you have stayed at one of these standard chain hotels in the US, you
will know what I mean. The only noise came from the whirring air conditioning
in the room. As I looked out of the window at night, I saw a parking lot, silhouettes
of huge cars parked, concrete and cement, and not a soul in sight. This
is in complete contrast to the hostels I was staying in even a month ago,
sharing my room with travelers all over the globe. I usually had a twin bed and
a pillow, and sometimes had to climb ladders to get to my bed. It would be buzzing outside with tourists, local musicians playing
live music and what not.
It hit me that day
that I will hopefully never have to live in penury again. But that also brought
in a feeling of sadness. In the next few weeks, I learnt that money begets
money.
As a postdoc, no one sent me to professional development seminars (that would have helped me find a job sooner), and
if I went on my own, I had to pay out of my pocket. As a faculty, not only were they
sending me to professional development events, but were also paying for my transportation, food, and hotels (although I can easily afford it now).
As a postdoc in Europe, I never
owned or rented a car, I always took the public transport. Now, if I had to rent a car for work, my university
reimburses me.
I had to buy my own health insurance in Germany. Now, the university pays for my health insurance, although I can afford it.
I had to buy my monthly bus pass in Germany. Now, the university gives me a free one.
I now have more rights and benefits, although I needed them more
as a postdoc. It was a sobering realization, and a sad one too. The hotel and the
expensive food is a nice, kind gesture. But somewhere deep down, beyond this
formals wearing faculty lives a poor traveler, happily walking the
streets of Europe, eating cheap food, staying in cheap youth hostels, and enjoying live music from streetside performers.
sunshine
