Studying in the UK: What I Really Learnt

"If you could study/specialize in any subject of your choice in the UK, what would it be, where and why?"

How about some context before I answer this question?

As a young professional working in Mumbai, I wasn't doing too badly. I had a decent job with decent pay. I'd been doing more or less the same thing for a few years, with a slight increase in skills over the years. The next logical step would have been to get a MBA degree, which would have enabled a my transition into a management role, with better job prospects and pay.

But before dong so, I took a good look at my life thus far, my current situation, and what I expected of myself in the future. A MBA would get me better pay, but how long till I felt stagnation in my new role too? Would the only thing keeping me motivated at my new job be the promise of a promotion every few years, with even greater responsibilities and pay? Could I really see myself doing this over the next 25 years of my life, inching my way up the corporate ladder in the pursuit of happiness without ever finding it, until I retired? What was happiness? Is it getting what you want even though you know you're going to be bored with it in two years?

I looked at my other options. Was there something I could do that would keep me reasonably motivated about my work without having to resort to daydreaming about the future to satiate my job satisfaction needs? So I looked towards academia and Psychology, a subject I've been dabbling in on and off since college. Getting a Masters would allow me to continue my studies in the field and prepare me for further research or help me return to the corporate word if that's what I chose. So I left for the UK for a year of study.

My experiences? Well, it was my first time in Europe. Everything clicked for me right from the start. The view from the plane as it descended into London on a clear day. Waking around London. Taking a train to Scotland, also on a clear day. Studying at a university with thousands of students from around the World. Making new friends, sharing a house with 40 interesting people, sharing a classroom with bright people, learning so much from your teachers and fellow students. Learning about different cultures, learning about local cultures. Living alone, cooking, cooking for friends, new food, drinks at the pub, playing in the snow, working at three part time jobs over the course of a year, applying for over a dozen jobs just to get one (I even applied to be a room surveyor at one point). Hiking, exploring the countryside, practising photography in a new environment. Learning about history. Volunteering. Late night discussions about ideas. Long lunches discussing ideas. Taking extra classes just because they were fun. Joining different clubs. Trying new things. Exploring new cities, walking around, talking, laughing, learning, taking it all in.

But here's the thing. I expected to have these experiences. As much as I enjoyed them, I knew they were coming. It's what I didn't see coming that really left it's mark on me.

Experiencing absolute quiet everyday. Like nothing back in Mumbai, with its constant drum of ceiling fans & ACs, traffic and other people. A quiet room, a quiet walk to uni, quiet corridors, quiet car parks, quiet surroundings, quiet environments. Learning that nothing is perfect. That academia can be as convoluted, petty and dirty as the corporate world. Learning to see yourself through this new World. That nothing is really exactly as what you thought it would be. That you can't know what you can't know. Discovering that you need to work twice as hard as your classmates just to catch up with them because they've got Bachelors degrees at universities with a higher standard of education than the one you went to and have taken courses you did not (like Evolutionary Psych, Animal Behaviour and Advanced Stats) and so have skills and domain knowledge you don't, along with practical research and writing experience that you don't have either. Attending seminars about things you've never heard of before. Learning more in 2 months than you did in 2 years back home. Thinking of concepts you never thought of before. Questioning your underlying assumptions about everything. Being exposed to new fields of thought, new sciences, new topics, new interests you never knew you had. Exercising new skills you never knew you had an aptitude for. Developing your own research interests. Becoming so good at something that you start helping other people out. Travelling all the way to a foreign country to study Comparative Psychology only to discover you are also interested in machine learning, consciousness, artificial intelligence, economics and advanced probability.

So to get back to the original question, if I could specialise in any one subject, it would be one of the above, a PhD this time, and again, it would be at a university that would truly challenge me with respect to everything I know.

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This post was written in response to the http://knowledgeisgreat.in/ contest on http://www.indiblogger.in

Studying in the UK: What I Really Learnt

Avoiding Cynicism

I fear I've grown cynical as an adult. I seem to take things for granted that I, as a kid, would normally be in awe of. Take visiting a restaurant for example. As a kid, every visit to a restaurant, whether it was a fast food or a fancy and expensive one, would be an adventure for me, but nowadays, I seem to take these visits for granted, they're all pretty insignificant. I seem to have lost that feeling of wonder that I used to experience every time I went somewhere, even if I'd been there previously, whether it was a restaurant, hotel, park or just anywhere. My questions are one, why is this so? and two, is this normal, or something I should be worried about?

The answer to the first question is simple. Priorities change. Adults see the world through different eyes compared to kids. The second question is trickier. It's completely normal to not feel the same way about stuff that you felt as a kid. But what's not normal is that it's replaced by such a level of cynicism. It can't all be because of frequency. I go out as an adult about as often as I did when I was a kid. I suppose in one way, it's O.K. Restaurant wise, Mumbai is full of good cheap restaurants for the common man, where the food is good, service is quick and the ambiance is non-existent. Maybe the point of these places that I frequent is that you're supposed to take them for granted.

But that doesn't explain my present ho-hum reaction to all the fancier places. Why? To answer this, I'll need to look back to my childhood again, beyond the changing priorities and differing world views, to the fact that maybe I was never in complete control of my life when I was a kid. The only time I went out was with my parents as they handled everything. The travel, the ordering, paying, etc. So, could that be the main reason I saw the world through rose coloured glasses then, as compared to now?

If that's true, does an aspect of the world cease to be amazing once you figure out you can control it? The answer might be yes. Look at magic tricks. When I was a kid, I used to practice all these magic tricks as a hobby. One thing I realised growing up was that every trick I saw on T.V that looked amazing would cease to be amazing once I found out how it was done. Even adults feel the same way. Watch a group of people watching David Blane levitate or Chris Angel walk on water and then watch their faces as you tell them how it's done. All you get is a blank look. You've taken away the awe and wonder that they felt just a moment ago. You've given them knowledge which leads to a feeling of control, but at what cost? I guess sometimes ignorance is bliss. Sometimes, people prefer ignorance, even if they don't know it at the time.

So does not being in control prevent cynicism, which in turn increases feelings of awe and wonder that lead to happiness? Maybe for some things in my life that I know will make me happy if I don't try to control them. But having someone lead you by the hand everywhere and spoon feed you all the time certainly isn't a solution. So if being in control of things is a natural human progression, so too must be the cynicism that goes with it. So that answers my second question about this being normal. And brings up a third one. Should I do anything about it?

Sure I should. I have a right to be as happy as possible as often as possible. How do I do this? First let me look at the other things that make me happy. Like music and movies. Maybe I can find a pattern here. I love watching Spielberg movies because they make me feel like a child again. I also like movies that make me experience something new, and make me feel like I'm part of something great, even if they make me think a bit. But I'm not in control of the movie making process. I don't suppose the people who are feel the same way about the movie as I do. So the control rule holds true here as well.

As an aside, being in control should not be confused with being knowledgeable about something. For example, many of us experience more happiness when we analyse movies for a greater level of appreciation, which in turn leaves us cynical towards their more mundane forms. And maybe this isn't bad. Maybe this is how we as humans make sure that evolution picks out only the best, most creative, and innovative kinds of music and movies to experience, for our own benefit. So maybe cynicism is goes hand in hand with happiness, as a certain level of one guarantees a certain level of another.

But coming back to the control rule part, I've figured out that multiple things that make me happy vary in the levels of happiness they provide depending on the control I exercise over them, which is unavoidable anyway. So how do I increase happiness? One way would be to to simply look for other happy experiences to replace the experiences that get diminished over time.

So I've learnt the following. Cynicism is unavoidable. What I like today I might not like tomorrow. Therefore, I need to constantly surround myself with things I like and constantly try to find new things to Iike. To do the first part, I need to make sure I avoid the average products in this world that lean toward making me cynical, avoid what I know I'll hate, and focus on those that fill me with pleasure. I should do this by following reviews, be they of restaurants, food, music, movies, plays, or any household inanimate object. And share my experiences with others. And for the second part, I need to look for new experiences in everything I do. And try to turn everything I do into an awesome party, even a trip to an Udipi joint.

Avoiding Cynicism

Acceptance

I read a lot of experiences that foreign visitors post about their travels to India. While I sympathize with them, I remember that I used to be one of them. True, when I first moved here, I was more or less a foreigner. I adjusted over time. Now, when I hear them expressing wonder at some of the things they see, I go “Hey, that’s me. That’s my line.” But I’ve lost the right to express things like that. I’m no longer a foreigner, no longer an outsider. How do I express my anguish at what I see around me? They can because it’s contained, it’s wonderment. They are only here for a short time. I have to stay here for years. How can I possibly say all that I have to say if it means I would never be able to shut up?

Acceptance

Thoughts

Sunday Sept 23rd - was thinking about something - letting my mind flow -

One - analysing why we don't help strangers - why do we feel icky when helping strangers/ volunteering - we don't mind giving money - that's easy - but lifting a hand is too hard. What if a friend of mine had a problem - say AIDS - I wouldn't hesitate to help him/her out - so why don't we do the same for strangers, be it a simple task, forget AIDS - strange - what separates our friends from strangers - the people in mumbai who ignore others crying out for help and don't help them - they have firends whom they help out regularly - so why not strangers? - interesting - is there a part of our brain that controls this - is it psychological rather than neurological? - nature vs. nurture?

Two - Orkut - some people have a close network of friends whom they talk to regularly - others have a large network of acquaintances whom they know just casually - what works out best? - do I really need to send an invite out to someone who I might or might not have greeted and who might or might not have greeted me while we passed each other in a corridor when working at a job I hated 4 years ago and who might not even remember my name and hardly care one way or another? - need to analyse this further...

Thoughts