J-Term in India
It’s getting to be mid-October, which is a fun time for 2Ls and 3Ls because everyone’s deciding what to do for this year’s J-term. J-term is the HLS word for January term, a month-long semester where you go to the same class from 9-5 everyday. It’s really good for classes like the Trial Advocacy Workshop, where you need long chunks of time for mock trials, and it works for people who want to earn credits off-campus, too. You can propose an independent writing project, you can sign on to do a clinical internship domestically or abroad, or if you’re like me, you can zone out in one of your fall classes last year and see a chalkboard announcement that said “Want to go to India for J-term? Pound Hall 101, 7 p.m. tonight.” It wasn’t a whole lot of information, but it was enough for me. Um, yes I did want to go to India for J-term, thank you.
Fast forward to the part where I got selected for the trip (paper proposal, then lottery) and then arrived in Bombay with nine other HLS students who would soon become friends. It was hot and humid, and I had made the mistake of watching Slumdog Millionaire the night before I left, so I was paranoid about getting sick from “fake” bottled water and was thus hauling around about 15 jumbo bottles of Poland Spring from the Newark airport in my luggage. My soon-to-be friend and roommate Neema taught me that there are certain brands of water that you can’t tamper with the seal, which was a much better solution to hydration than my brilliant—but backbreaking—plan.
We worked in Indian law firms, which was an amazing opportunity to see a legal system that’s currently closed to foreign law firms. A lot of people think India may open its legal practice in the near future, and I guess if that happens, the ten of us are going to have a few weeks’ head start on everyone else! The work was both substantive and doable, which is a rare combination in short internships. I did contract interpretation, corporate plans, litigation work, and met with clients (including Bollywood directors, how fun is that?), and the whole trip was expertly planned and really well thought out.
I did think I was going to die a couple of times, but really, the cab driver only fell asleep for a few seconds, and we were only going like 60 km per hour. And the only reason that wild monkey attacked me when we were hiking on Elephanta Island was because it was almost 100 degrees and he wanted my Limca (Indian version of Sprite, totally delicious and refreshing—or at least it was until a toddler-sized wild monkey ripped it out of my hands and drank it). That monkey had his own hydration plan, and it was a lot better than my Poland Spring debacle. Now I just have to choose what to do this year. . .
- Erin

