Orkut? Qu'est-ce que c'est? [en]

Orkut est associé à  Google — c’est le projet personnel d’un des membres de l’entreprise, qui alloue à  ses employés 20% de leur temps pour travailler sur des projets personnels, afin d’encourager leur créativité — mais qu’est-ce que c’est? A quoi ça sert? Qu’y fait-on? Quelques explications et un mini-guide pour démarrer.

Orkut existe depuis un peu plus d’un mois, si mes informations sont correctes. Orkut est associé à  Google — c’est le projet personnel d’un des membres de l’entreprise, qui alloue à  ses employés 20% de leur temps pour travailler sur des projets personnels, afin d’encourager leur créativité — mais qu’est-ce que c’est? A quoi ça sert? Qu’y fait-on? Quelques explications et un mini-guide pour démarrer.

Le but principal d’un site comme Orkut est de référencer qui connaît qui (qui est “ami” de qui). Concrètement, lorsque l’on entre dans la communauté, on indique qui sont les personnes de la communauté que l’on connaît déjà , et on invite ses amis “externes” à  rejoindre la communauté. Chaque membre peut ensuite fournir des informations dans son profil (autant ou aussi peu qu’il le désire).

On ne peut entrer dans la communauté que sur invitation. Autrement dit, il faut connaître quelqu’un qui est déjà  inscrit pour pouvoir y rentrer. Cela assure une certaine cohésion au réseau qui est en train de se construire.

La combinaison du réseau relationnel et des informations personnelles données dans les profils permet d’entrer assez facilement en contact avec les “amis des amis” avec lesquels on a des intérêts communs. On découvre également parfois des points communs que l’on ignorait avec des “amis” un peu distants!

La première chose à  faire lorsque l’on s’inscrit (après avoir reçu l’invitation nécessaire), c’est ajouter quelques informations dans son profil. Inutile de vouloir le remplir de façon exhaustive du premier coup — il vaut mieux répondre rapidement aux questions de base, et revenir par la suite compléter petit à  petit les parties plus “intéressantes” de son profil, au fur et à  mesure qu’on en sent l’inclination.

Ensuite, ajouter des “amis”. Les critères déterminant qui l’on considère comme “ami” varient de personne en personne — à  chacun de se faire les siens. Un bon moyen de commencer, c’est de faire le tour des amis de la personne qui nous a invité, pour voir s’il s’y trouve des gens que l’on connaît — et ainsi de suite. On peut aussi assez facilement (avec nom et prénom) regarder si les personnes que l’on connaît sont déjà  inscrites, et le cas échéant, leur envoyer une invitation en indiquant simplement leur adresse e-mail.

Les “relations” que référence Orkut sont à  double sens: si vous marquez quelqu’un comme votre ami, celui-ci reçoit une demande de confirmation — et vice-versa. A chacun ensuite d’accepter ou de refuser les demandes selon ses propres critères.

Une fois qu’on a une petite liste d’amis, on peut faire deux choses: les organiser en groupes (visibles à  soi seul pour autant que je puisse constater), et utiliser un certain nombre d’indicateurs pour les “évaluer” (le terme est mauvais mais je ne trouve rien de mieux).

On indique, pour chaque personne, sur une échelle optionnelle de un à  trois, à  quel point on trouve la personne “fiable”, “cool”, ou “sexy”. Ces points cumulés apparaissent ensuite dans le profil de la personne concernée, les points restant attribués de façon anonyme (il n’est donc pas possible pour autrui de savoir que vous avez attribué trois coeurs à  Jean). De plus, on peut s’annoncer en tant que “fan” d’une personne (il faut assumer, par contre, parce que c’est public), ou encore l’ajouter à  sa “hot-list” ou sa “crush-list”. Ces deux listes restent confidentielles, à  moins que vous figuriez également sur la “crush-list” de quelqu’un que vous avez mis dans la vôtre… (vous me suivez?). Dans ce cas, vous recevez une notification de votre intérêt mutuel!

Si la possibilité de contacts “amitiés-rencontres” ou “coquins-coquines” est bien entendu à  l’ordre du jour pour une partie de la population d’Orkut, le réseau ne se limite pas à  un succédané d’agence matrimoniale — loin de là . Un élément important du profil indique les motivations du participant: est-il là  pour se faire des amis, des contacts professionnels, trouver des gens avec qui partager diverses activités, ou rencontrer l’âme soeur (ou une âme de passage)? Ajouté aux autres informations données dans le profil, cela permet de se faire assez vite une idée des motivations de la personne concernée.

La dernière fonctionnalité d’Orkut dont je parlerai (et là , je pense que j’aurais fait à  peu près le tour de la question), ce sont les communautés. Chaque personne peut facilement s’inscrire à  autant de communautés qu’il le désire, ou en créer si elles manquent. On y trouve la communauté des webloggueurs francophones, celle des amoureux des chats, des habitants de Lausanne ou Paris, des paranoïaques d’Orkut, des fans de Manchester United ou encore des occidentaux parlant le hindi… Pour tous les goûts! S’inscrire à  une communauté n’engage à  rien, mais comme les communautés dont on fait partie sont listées sur notres profil, c’est un moyen relativement simple de donner des informations à  autrui sur ses activités ou ses intérêts.

Regardez quelles sont les communautés dont font partie les gens que vous connaissez. Utilisez la fonctionnalité de recherche dans la liste des communautés (par mots-clés par exemple, ça marche très bien), et si nécessaire, créez vos propres communautés et annoncez-les sur le forum de la communauté d’annonce de nouvelles communautés (très “communauté”, cette phrase, mais bon). Il y a aussi toute une série de “méta-communautés” concernant Orkut (une recherche pour ce mot-clé vous en donnera une liste.)

Si vous avez l’occasion de faire partie d’Orkut, et que vous n’êtes pas trop inquiet des risques de récupération marketing/publicitaire/que sais-je des informations que vous y fournirez, allez-y seulement. C’est fort amusant, et ce qui ne gâche rien, le site est très bien conçu (rapide et ergonomique). Si on se connaît et qu’il vous manque une invitation, faites-moi signe!

Back Home [en]

Back home in Switzerland. Got the cat back, but not the cellphone.

Switzerland is grey and dark and cold. No colours, no sun.

I’ve got my cat back (with a bit of extra weight, just like his mistress who now feels a little tight in her trousers), my brave little car started at the turn of the key, only one of my plants has died (it was already on the way down before I left), but my cellphone has been blocked.

I feel a bit dazed. The change has been brutal. I feel disconnected, as if my presence here wasn’t completely real — or worse, as if India was just some kind of weird dream, a sensation I sometimes have when I am over there. Something else I need to sort out at some point, I guess.

I’m not too sure what I’m going to do now. There are lot of things to unpack, an extra CD/DVD-rack to buy (!), a few things to type up, and lots of photos and videos to upload and organize. The flat still needs work, too.

I think I’ll take a Lush bath.

One Chay And Two Cancellations [en]

India is the country of the unexpected. A nice cancellation, a more unpleasant one, and a cup of sweet Indian tea.

India has always been to me the country of last-minute plans (like my departure for Calcutta barely two days after having met Aleika) and cancellations.

On the menu last Thursday, two cancellations — one which upset me, and the other which pleased me tremendously.

First of all, Madhav sent me a message cancelling dinner and our evening stroll in the university campus. I love Madhav dearly, but he does have a tendancy to try my patience (just as I try his, in other ways) by changing plans on short notice and and cancelling meetings I look forward to. I called Nisha and luckily, it wasn’t too late for her to include me in her dinner plans. She cooked a really nice dinner, by the way — puris and home-made gulab jamun — had she guessed that my spirits might need lifting a little?

I was woken up during the dark hours of the night by the sound os somebody coming into the flat. I was supposed to be alone with Nisha that night, as Sagar works night shifts and Shinde had run off to some festival with his fellow disciples from Markal. In my half-sleep I assumed it must be Sagar coming home early. A few minutes later I had gathered together enough of myself to check the time — it was only midnight!

I got up, and to my surprise found myself face-to-face with Shinde. His festival had been postponed by a day, which meant he would have missed my last evening here — so after some internal debate, he cancelled. We stayed up a good two hours chatting before I finally went back to sleep again.

In the middle of all that, or rather before, the chay.

I had been sitting for quite some time in front of my Internet Café during a notable power failure which seems to have wiped out all trace of electrical activity from M.G. Rd to Aundh, waiting for the message which would cancel my plans for the evening (though at that time I didn’t suspect it) or for Bijli Devi (the Goddess of Electricity) to give up her strike and resume normal activity. Sitting and waiting can become boring, even if you have stuff to write up and brightly-clad female construction workers to film on the other side of the road. As he was ordering another round of chay, the Internet Café owner kindly asked me if I would like one.

Sweet, hot indian tea in a small glass. It was nice.

Adventurous Morning [en]

Eunuchs and a sleazy rickshawallah.

This day started out pretty adventurous, but luckily it didn’t get too bad.

To start with, a whole bunch of “men in saris” (eunuchs) were roaming in the area around the house. I still have to figure out the what’s and the why’s about these people, but in any case it was clear they were after money.

As we were making change at the chemist’s (for the rickshawallahs, not the sari-clad men), one of them started addressing me insistently, pawing at my arm in the process. Now, if there is one thing I don’t like, it is being pawed at by people who want to get money out of me, be they big or small, ugly, beautiful, child, woman or neither. Nisha told me afterwards that he had said to the chemist that one of his friends had died — hence the need for money.

A minute later, as I was counting my change (which had started by being 50Rs short), the sari-guy had the bright idea of sticking his hand upon my head. I didn’t appreciate remotely, and glared at him even more than before — unfortunately through my dark glasses, so I guess it was lost on him.

We (un)fortunately succeeded in finding a rickshaw pretty fast. The road nearest to the house is always home to a couple of ricshaws, but they invariably refuse to run by the meter. I usually end up walking down to the parallel road where busses and six-seaters as well as normal rickshaws can usually be found. Sometimes, though, like last evening when I was going out, you remain standing at the bus-stop for twenty minutes, and arrive late for your movie after a hectic (but cheap) ride in an overcrowded bus at rush hour.

So anyway, we were happy to find a rickshaw willing to take us to D.P. Rd, but a little less happy to notice that this guy simply did not have a meter on his machine.

On the other hand, the 40Rs he was asking for sounded very reasonable to me. I knew the trip was at least worth 60Rs by the meter. I hopped in, knowing I would end up regretting it.

And I did.

Five minutes later, Nisha and I realised we had misunderstood one another. When she said “D.P. Rd”, she meant “D.P. Rd” nearby, not “Dhole Patil Rd” near the station. Once cleared with the rickshawallah, his price for “my D.P. Rd” rose to a preposterous 160Rs. We agreed he would drop us off at the next rickshaw stand.

Of course, he wanted his 40Rs, but there was no way I was going to give him that much. I could go up to my internet cafe on Aundh Rd for that price, and we had gone barely half that far. I gave him 30Rs, he insisted, I refused, we got off the rickshaw. He followed us around asking for his 10Rs as we enquired for somebody who would take us to our destination and charge the legal fare. He didn’t even give up once we were in our new rickshaw, and I continued refusing to give him more money, explaining all my reasons for this shocking refusal — all that in Hindi, please. Two other drivers came up to join the fun, and Nisha also started arguing around in Marathi.

I was getting more and more angry at the guy, who simply would not give up his litany: “das rupaye de do!” After a couple of minutes, however, our driver started his engine (of his own initiative or at Nisha’s request, I could not tell) and drove off, leaving the irritating crook behind.

I was glad that I had stood my ground and hadn’t given in. Nisha gave me a tip from our driver: if a guy like that won’t let go, threaten to report him to the police. I’m keeping that in mind for the next one — or maybe I’ll simply play smart and really stop taking my chances with guys who won’t go by the meter!

I’m writing all this sitting cross-legged in front of my usual internet cafe, just opposite Taramai’s basti. If the power failure lasts much longer, I might go over to her place for some chay. Straight on the other side of the road, there is a construction site. I’ve been watching the women there shovelling up dirt and carrying it off on their heads under the (already) scorching sun. I managed to take some photographs of them too, and a short video. I think I’ve just seen Taramai and her daughter Roopali walk back to their house. Should I pay them a visit?

Coup de barre [en]

Fini mon livre. Bruits de chiens.

J’ai fini l’unique livre que j’avais emporté avec moi. Dans la pièce d’à côté, un chiot jappe plaintivement. Il s’est probablement trainé hors du tas que composent ses frères et soeurs de porté. Le sol dallé est froid.

Les deux labradors vont et viennent dans l’appartement. Les seuls autres occupants humains du logis dorment.

Virus Disguised as XP Update? Or not? [en]

I got an e-mail about an XP update, apparently from Microsoft. I’m wondering if it is for real (I don’t run XP) or if it is a virus in disguise.

Here is an e-mail I got this morning from [email protected]:

Window Update has determined that you are running a beta version of Windows XP Service Pack 1 (SP1). To help improve the stability of your computer, Microsoft recommends that you remove the beta version of Windows XP SP1 and re-install Windows XP SP1. If you cannot remove the beta version, you should still reinstall Windows XP SP1.

Windows XP SP1 provides the latest security, reliability, and performance updates to the Windows XP family of operating systems. Windows XP SP1 is designed to ensure Windows XP platform compatibility with newly released software and hardware, and includes updates to resolve issues discovered by customers or by Microsoft’s internal testing team.

The maximum download size is approximately 3 MB, however the size of the download and time required may be less for computers that have had updates previously installed.

To minimize the download time needed for installation, setup will only download those files which are required to bring your computer up to date. Windows XP SP1 includes Internet Explorer 6 SP1. Anti-virus software programs may interfere with the installation of Windows XP SP1. Please disable anti-virus software while installing the service pack.

Just run the file winxp_sp1.exe in attach and make sure to restart your PC after installation will be completed.

’©2004 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved. Terms of Use Privacy Statement

I don’t run Windows XP.

Being suspicious in nature (yes, about certain things), I can’t help but think that this is a pretty cleverly disguised virus. I might be wrong, though. Does Microsoft send out this kind of e-mail?

If you have similar experiences to share or an opinion on the subject, I’d love to hear from you.

Catamaran à  vendre [fr]

A vendre: catamaran French Cat (1987) de 7m10 par 3m50, peu utilisé, démontable, habitable (4 lits dans les coques). A vendre en l’état — il a passé une bonne dizaine d’années sur sa remorque derrière la maison de mon père. (Il faudra abattre la haie pour le sortir, mais ce n’est pas grave et on s’en occupe.) Prix à  discuter.

Mise à  jour: vendu depuis belle lurette!

Soirée de famille [en]

Le sexe c’est de temps en temps, mais les genoux c’est à  chaque pas!

Brian Booth, sur les mérites respectifs du Viagra et de la cortisone

Getting Less Welfare Because One is Homeless [en]

From The thoughts and opinions of a homeless girl: some insight into the financials of homelessness.

Crystal’s bio page will give you more information about her and how she came to be homeless. She doesn’t really fit the stereotype, does she?

To look at me, you wouldn’t expect me to be homeless. I’m clean. I dress nice. I’m educated. I’ve graduated high school and have 2 1/2 years of college education. I’m intelligent. I have 5 years of experience working in the medical field. But I am homeless. if you saw me walking down the street in the morning, you might wonder why I’m carrying a back pack and/or a duffle bag with me. But homeless? That’s probably not the first thing that would come to your mind if you saw me in a crowd of people. Homeless people are often stereotyped. I want to break society’s view of that. Being homeless doesn’t make one ‘less human’ than another. We are all equal.

Linkball [en]