HUMILIATION - The stepping stone to success and perfecting the art of shamelessness
Being a customer facing executive, I seldom get into confrontations and verbal battles with the customer on things ranging from delivery comittments to commericals and every thing in between and outside. I cant imagine a single meeting where the customer will not have a bone to pick with me from the time he knows I have landed at the airport. Well I signed up for it, is the self realization that comes at the end of the day when you retire with a shot of fizzed out cola. No jokes, you feel your life is worth nothing after some 2 paise officer who cant even read his own emails lectures you about project management and system architecture while the whole world keep giggling in the background on the stupidity of the officer and you have to live through the whole 2 hours of it.
IN all my career, wether I liked it or not I was sent to fight customer fires with nothing but my own urine. Some how I had the guts to take the hit. Some times I returned home depresed and dejected, but I woke up the next day even more charged up, cos I really felt happy about looking back and saying I left that anguish behind. I never carried forward the disgust and ill feeling of having been humiliated by a customer or my colleagues as I felt that they were all a fall out of circumstances the organization has built up. I am just passing the message to the some one by recieving it. It happens invariably and is a part of project managment.
But after 9 years of getting screwed by various customers, american, middle eastern, Indian and african what I gained is flexibility. Allowing me to bend at what ever angle was required :)There were times when I wrote 10 page emails to senior management showing my utmost displeasure in taking up these assignment and being labeled as the fall guy, but those emails always spent one night in my outbox before I decided to delete it the next morning. Its the best expereince you can gain.
Rejection, refusal, re-whatever you put after it best left ignored when you get it on your face. Whats even more exciting is to go back the next day with out any sign of pain or agony to the same customer and talk about the Sun, moon and potatoes. It works but you have to dare.
3.10.06
5.8.06
The take Over
My friend Mr K. [yes the same Mr K from the Rwanda trip] told me that once upon a time to survive in Silicon Valley you needed to know two languages; Java and Telugu. I laughed of and he said he was quite serious and many offshore onsite telcons would take place in Telegu with US customers some times sitting and listening to the design issues and engineering updates. IN the middle of it all there would be discussions of Chiranjeeve’s latest movie’s to hot sizzling scenes of Rambha and of course give my love to my family talk. Considering it is just two day since the resource has come on site he is missing his family like it has been a lifetime.
Software industry boom and the flurry of professionals to the US has many good bad and ugly stories. I heard a lot of it from my friends. Personally I never had the urge to go abroad and neither did my opportunities come in line with projects requiring me to travel to the western world. Bangalore was then the hotspot of all IT activity and every one knew it to be India’s Silicon Valley and the un-ending supply of manpower for cheap onsite labour in software companies. However back home these professional converted their few hundred thousands to a few millions considering the currency conversion factor. Bangalore is a mini Andhra with a minor Kerala and a miniscule Tamil Nadu. I came to Bangalore thinking this is a pot of IT intellect, in fact it is but I was astonished to find that the local language for transaction was Telugu and that there were not even a handful of Kannada sign boards, hoardings or information kiosk, except the KSRTC bus name plates.
So they took over California and Bangalore in one clean sweep. I was not bothered much about the take over, but I felt bad for the poor Kanadigas’ who were chased out of their own courtyard. Classic example of how an industry can chase away the population that does not care much about being a part of it. Come to Mumbai and all hotels, bars and eating houses are owned by Kannadigas but it did not chase away the population from Mumbai. So I kept thinking what was different about the Telugu take over. Or was it that they were only the ones to take over software engineering jobs?Turns out that considered all of south India to be Andra Pradesh :) So it was always their land, who were the Kannadigas then ?
My friend Mr K. [yes the same Mr K from the Rwanda trip] told me that once upon a time to survive in Silicon Valley you needed to know two languages; Java and Telugu. I laughed of and he said he was quite serious and many offshore onsite telcons would take place in Telegu with US customers some times sitting and listening to the design issues and engineering updates. IN the middle of it all there would be discussions of Chiranjeeve’s latest movie’s to hot sizzling scenes of Rambha and of course give my love to my family talk. Considering it is just two day since the resource has come on site he is missing his family like it has been a lifetime.
Software industry boom and the flurry of professionals to the US has many good bad and ugly stories. I heard a lot of it from my friends. Personally I never had the urge to go abroad and neither did my opportunities come in line with projects requiring me to travel to the western world. Bangalore was then the hotspot of all IT activity and every one knew it to be India’s Silicon Valley and the un-ending supply of manpower for cheap onsite labour in software companies. However back home these professional converted their few hundred thousands to a few millions considering the currency conversion factor. Bangalore is a mini Andhra with a minor Kerala and a miniscule Tamil Nadu. I came to Bangalore thinking this is a pot of IT intellect, in fact it is but I was astonished to find that the local language for transaction was Telugu and that there were not even a handful of Kannada sign boards, hoardings or information kiosk, except the KSRTC bus name plates.
So they took over California and Bangalore in one clean sweep. I was not bothered much about the take over, but I felt bad for the poor Kanadigas’ who were chased out of their own courtyard. Classic example of how an industry can chase away the population that does not care much about being a part of it. Come to Mumbai and all hotels, bars and eating houses are owned by Kannadigas but it did not chase away the population from Mumbai. So I kept thinking what was different about the Telugu take over. Or was it that they were only the ones to take over software engineering jobs?Turns out that considered all of south India to be Andra Pradesh :) So it was always their land, who were the Kannadigas then ?
16.6.06
My Travel Assistant and BOSS
It is really hard work to pack your bags and leave on short notice. Just when You are checking into the airline counter you remember that you have left your favourite pair of under wear on the clothes line and you forgot to pick it up. So every trip I have been on, I have missed out taking some thing that I have wanted to take. So I designated a travel assistant. My Wife. She loves travelling but does not get as many oppotunities as I do hence seeing me off is also a thrill for her. She will take extra care to pack the right stuff in the right quantities and in sequence so that I find them with out a hitch. I work out of Mumbai but my engineeriing team sits in Bangalore and my customer is in Delhi, plus recently one was in Africa. Hence my travel takes me north south and east of the country. I have a fixed set of clothes and articles that need to be replenished after each trip. Unlike some executives who have a bag packed and waitingg for them when they return to catch the next flight.
However over time her tasks went beyond packing bags, now she buys the medicines for travel, ensures I have got my ticket from the office, checks if I have transfered my files to the travel laptop, sumitted my bills to the company or alteast prepared them [so that I dont miss the submission date while on site.] and the list of things go on. I also get instructions on where to dine, what to eat and how to spend my time over the week end while I am on site.
She has a fantastic ability to digup lifestyle and luxury information from the web, she invest a couple of hundred bucks buying food, city and travel guides ever month. But I dont make much of that information and come back an old man from the trip. However when the mood kicks in it is good to know more than the locals at times [thanks to my wife I have out smarted them many times by giving them gyan about their city.]. Believe me she even predicted the French type power sockets in Rwanda which I ignored saying "whats the big deal"... Fact is that we roamed around 1 hour in the sun trying to get a French to British plug convertor the next day and paid 10$.
So I have come to regard her as Boss when it comes to the travel agency that she runs, a full service travel agency that will do every thing required for you to travel and ensure that you wake up at 4 am to catch the cab for a 6:30 am flight. She will also buzz me in her sleep as I am about to enter the aircraft just to say Good bye.
It is really hard work to pack your bags and leave on short notice. Just when You are checking into the airline counter you remember that you have left your favourite pair of under wear on the clothes line and you forgot to pick it up. So every trip I have been on, I have missed out taking some thing that I have wanted to take. So I designated a travel assistant. My Wife. She loves travelling but does not get as many oppotunities as I do hence seeing me off is also a thrill for her. She will take extra care to pack the right stuff in the right quantities and in sequence so that I find them with out a hitch. I work out of Mumbai but my engineeriing team sits in Bangalore and my customer is in Delhi, plus recently one was in Africa. Hence my travel takes me north south and east of the country. I have a fixed set of clothes and articles that need to be replenished after each trip. Unlike some executives who have a bag packed and waitingg for them when they return to catch the next flight.
However over time her tasks went beyond packing bags, now she buys the medicines for travel, ensures I have got my ticket from the office, checks if I have transfered my files to the travel laptop, sumitted my bills to the company or alteast prepared them [so that I dont miss the submission date while on site.] and the list of things go on. I also get instructions on where to dine, what to eat and how to spend my time over the week end while I am on site.
She has a fantastic ability to digup lifestyle and luxury information from the web, she invest a couple of hundred bucks buying food, city and travel guides ever month. But I dont make much of that information and come back an old man from the trip. However when the mood kicks in it is good to know more than the locals at times [thanks to my wife I have out smarted them many times by giving them gyan about their city.]. Believe me she even predicted the French type power sockets in Rwanda which I ignored saying "whats the big deal"... Fact is that we roamed around 1 hour in the sun trying to get a French to British plug convertor the next day and paid 10$.
So I have come to regard her as Boss when it comes to the travel agency that she runs, a full service travel agency that will do every thing required for you to travel and ensure that you wake up at 4 am to catch the cab for a 6:30 am flight. She will also buzz me in her sleep as I am about to enter the aircraft just to say Good bye.
15.6.06
A visit to Africa.
"Solieeee, ticketum passport edathoe ? ... paisayooo ??? " ... Frowning to the core having heard that 200 million times on every travel ... "edathooooooooooooooooo mummy" ......." the last line you hear while geting into the cab bound for the international airport. All through out the ride to the airport, I recieved gyan about travelling to new places from my dad, "Take care of your belongings, dont leave your bags unlocked, stay away from strangers [hello I am meeting my potential customer for the first time and he is a stranger], dont drink or eat with hotel staff they will drug you and rob your belongings [they are the ones who will serve you for 6 days], Africans are thieves, they are into drug business, yesterday two got arrested near our house and they have the highest concentration of aids [ahem, ahem, dad I am married for 4 years and I am very much, you know incontrol of my .....eeeeeerr... and I have taken a concious decision not to have kids ] My wife covering her eyes with her hands, her head down in her lap laughing away to glory in silence and pinches me from the side."
So I did it. I was an IT professional going abroad to a phoren country with 9 years of experience selected to represent my company for a very important deal, my whole family inluding my 5 year old nephew came to drop me at the airport and this whole deal was happening in Kigali ........... !@^&#%&%^$&^!%$^$!@$#@!#$$#! .. where the hell is this place ?....
Africa, east central Africa, landlocked east central africa near notorius states like Congo and Burundi and Sudan with our friend Edi Amin once living as our next door neighbour in Uganda....Kigali is in Rwanda, if not any thing, then 10 years ago over 3 million people were slaughtered in a span of 100 days by the majority community that rules the land... Ashtonishingly it is Belgian colony speaking French that likes to trade in US dollars with lots of Indians doing what ???????
Mum and dad had nothing to say... Its like falling in love for the first time, even if you know you cant tell your daughter not to go ahead with that relationship... Its first love, it was first flight for me out of this country and the only solace they had was that another sensible man with a wife, kid and ageing parents back home in Bangalore was accompanying me to this forsaken land... Enter Mr K.. yes my friend from the three command escapade.
Yes I could not have faced this misfortune of an oppotunity alone, so the dynamic duo of Sol and K took Ethiopian Airlines [We expected a skeletoneous crew and UN food aid packets to be served on board the flight as airline food] flew to Kigali via Adis Ababa.
Sans the travel arrangements which are always a pain in my company, but hey we hired you because you are multitalented [yes tours and travel planning is an alternate profession] K and I were to sync up at Mumbai and then take a flight to Rwanda. So we stood in the check-in line like crusaders, chest inflated, smiling like goats going to the slaughter in front of a muiltitude of people who have never seen luggage, they prefer to carry their stuff in gunny bags :) .. Yes gunny bags that look like striped underwear cloth. Stand at any African airline counter and you will find people carry ing their belongings in gunny bags of all sizes and shapes. We felt uneasy, I asked my self "are we blending in with the people ? Are we attracting undue attention" [with every one looking at our neatly packed luggage and Laptops strung over our shoulders]
Adis Ababa, Adis as it is known was our first stop. At the immigration counter the officer looked at my virgin passport [yes this was my first forieng trip] and asked me, why am I going to this god forbidden country which does not have electricity and is infested with canibals. I told him we are carrying solar batteries as power backup and Canibals dont have a fancy for dravidian flesh, plus I can prove I am one of them by gulping down another one standing next to me if I have to save my life. Stamp, Stamp, Stamp .... my exit was marked and the officer said, "if you live to tell please come and meet me on the way back in". So much for encouragement on my first phoren trip as a software program manager.
K was cool but frustrated, given up in life and claims he has lived in airports for the better productive time of his life. So it was not interesting for him to see mixed cultures and uniformed men and women manning the airline couters and talking to you formally with a T accent. So we checked in and got our boarding passes and were waitign for our flight when suddenly people started running towards the exit gate with their tickets and in the middle of all these 6 feet tall men and 5 feet broad women was an airline executive shouting her life out for seats between rows 25 and 40, that was us and we squeezed our way through smelly armpits and gigantic bossoms. Enter Ethiopian and the first thing that excited us was the music system. Good music [12 channels]in the airplane kept our spirits high and decent food helped us pass the 5.5 hours of flying time to ADIS. However the food troubles of K had just started.
Snore, Snore, Snore......
Suddenly people were moving around, packing things collecting headphones and washing up and I realized we were landing. For the first time in my life I saw the SUN rays change the terrain from dark to light, it was like the SUN was chasing us on the flight.... OK OK OK OK... too much nature appreciation. Adis was a shock, right from the air field where we landed that was ten times the size of mumbai airport and then the airport terminal that was nothing less than a singapore or Bangakok airport according to K. To see such world class infrastructure at the port of entry of a nation that has been known for famines, civil war, labelled by UN as the centre of starvation and disease, I could not believe my eyes. It flattened my ego, crushed pride and blew the lid off my expectation of India 5 years from today. Coming from a country slated to be the IT super power I thought that operating 80 flight / hour in a airport that can handle 59 flights was an achievement. Bull shit.... Adis was reality, a hard hitting reality of how things can be better and aplified the fact that I am part of a useless bereaucratic system in India. "Hum logon ka Kuch nahi Hoga" K and I told each other sipping expresso in the obelisk cafe.
Cafes, bars, restaurants, cyber cafes, duty free shops with the quality of goods found only in five start hotel boutiques, executive lounges that look like corporate CEO cabins in India, communication / PA infrastructure that will amaze you, and airport staff that speaks fluent english and that too all Women all 24 hours looking fresh and vibrant..... Adis airport was a complete glass enclosure where I and K spent 30 mins looking a the roof trying to figure out how the place was being cooled and ventilated. I knelt down and touched my chest with my right palm in respect . Adis humbled me.
It was time to hop onto our second flight to Kigali and we had to strip down to our socks [No we didnt take off our pants but had to remove all accessories] to go through security checks. When I look beyond the metal detector I see Africans who are looking at you intensively and who infact look more suspicious than you. But turn around and they are all around. "You are the alien MR Sol... so you are the suspect, now remove your shoes and walk through quietly" said my conscience. "WHIMPER WHIMPER - kwai kwai kwai" like a hungry naked puppy kicked in his butt I gracefully walked through the metal detector with over 80 people sitting in the departure lounge look at you strip in front of the security. K followed. Any way we passed that with flying colors. Got on to another Ethiopian flight to Kigali. Again the quality of service and food matched and exceeded any airline in India and soon we were over the land of the thousand hills preparing for landing......BTW I flew over lake Victoria and as far as the eye can see it is water and is supposed to be the biggest fresh water body in the world.
We were offloaded in 5 mins, obvously as ours was the only airplane in the airport other than three military helocopters and a business jet that seemed to be the presidents official aircraft. So this was Kigali International airport in Rwanda. Genocide stories and images haunted us all through out. But Kigali was the second shock of our life. The roads are better than Delhi or any highway in India, people drive on the right side and nothing less than Japanese 4WDs and cruisers. The only thing that excited me were the abundence of TVS victor and Bajaj Pulzar motobikes from apna India. Yes those were the official bikes of the Picky Picky's [local name for motorcycle taxis].
10 years did wonders to Rwanda, people have put aside the genocide and walked on with life and aid agencies like the UN and the European union have helped construct a productive, just and resorucefull public infrastructure system. Kigali is the capital and the business centre for many organizations. There are two state owned banks, a state owned telephone company and ISP, pertroleum outlets by Shell, the Intercontinental Grand Hotel and cars ....I mean cars. Every one drives nothing less than a toyota corolla or camry in the middle class and a landcruiser, pajero in the upper class... Mercs were like bird droppings, counsulates to public taxis every thing had a merc some where and models that our rich business men drive in India. [naak katke sox mei chali gayi] Shame, ridicule and astonishment cant be any bigger than this as we stood in the lobby of Des Milles Collines. [yes the same place of the HOTEL RWANDA fame and you are supposed to pronounce it as "day mill colleeen" and nor DES Milles Collines like how we farted the name at the airport to the tourism counter and it took us 10 mins to make him understand that this place really existed in his country] Finally we got swipe cards and we checked into our shared room [thanks to over optimization by our management we must have looked like a gay couple !@$^#@] .
No AC, NO Fan in Rwanda except in data centres or medical facilities, so also was the situation in our hotel,. But before leaving for Africa I checked up to find that the temperature range was between 13 and 26 degrees C in Rwanda during our visit... A hotel staff that speaks french, serves french fries and charges in francs if you wish to pay in cash or Euros by card. K had a tough time being a vegetarian. Breakfast was the only meal where he had any option of picking up vegetarian food stuffs. Beef, pork, fish was all that you found on the menu..And Potatoes were kept aside fried bacon in the same pot.... For a mallu like me this was wonderland, I could eat any thing and I indulged like crazy remembering at times to cut down as I was on a diet under instructions from my wife.. K used to sit with a plate full of fries and some boiled vegetables cooked in some grey sauce, one time he ordered a sandwhich and we discovered that it was 1993 when the last sandwhich was ordered in the hotel. [We had to put a name tag on the dish that arrived that read "THIS IS REALLY A SANDWHICH" sandwhich making is a scarce art in Kigali]. We spotted some pieces of bread in it by the way.
We stayed for 6 days meeting Rwandans and conducting business for our company, sharing one room [every employee would give us a sweet smile when we pass by - was it invitation or a statement "I know your little secret"] and living with each other's obscene snoring through out the night, I pity our poor wives. Rwandans are warm friendly people [until you talk about the two tribes- which we did not try] but in general we found them to be very nice to deal with.
One night our hosts took us out for dinner [which we eventually paid for] and we got the third shock of our life.... IN the middle of genocide country was a fantastic Indian restaurant called Indian Khazana where Gaurav the owner of the place personally comes to take orders from Indians. Punjabi, Rajasthani, north Indian, Gujrati you name it, every thing from India was available there. K got a breather and ate like a PIG [adding BURPS & FARTS to the obscene snores later at night.] Taste of food was comparable or even better than what you would find at five star Indian restaurants in India, no jokes it was really mind blowing in taste... Priced like a 3 star... Ee were dumbfounded with the experience and came to know that he was running this business from the last 8 years. While we hogged, pigged and gulped away at desi food we noticed that there were a lot of Indians coming in with families, kids, fiances and elders. At one point I wondered am I in genocide country ?? ...
When the country was being re-constructed a lot of Indians were posted as teachers, professors and technical trainers in Rwanda and now they have settled in the country with their families, there is even a new generation that is toddling around. I dont know how much they get paid and what they save, but by the looks of it they were pretty well off. May cultures have a proverb that goes "You can judge a man by the shoes he wears and the food he eats" and truly Rwanda projected a larger than life picture to us. May be we did not go to the rural areas but as far as the eye could see there were small houses and ample infrastructure for people to utilize in comparision to their population - 9 million
The life style of Rwandans is way better as it looks on the out side. Every one was wearing expensive clothes, designer shoes, holding two mobile phones, driving phoren cars and speaking three international languages. We visited technology offices, we visited memorials we saw the UN and aid company establishments and were amazed at the developments. I give Indian 20 years to come to that level. Roads are wide and clean, you can wear roller skates and skate to work [they are that flat and smooth].There is a well organized market, there un organized hawking, there is petty theft, but there is also a sense of freedom from traffic jams, crowded trains, stinking sidewalks and an appreciation of the government. The people on the street will greet you no matter who you are and will wish you as per the time of the day in French or Kinya Rwanda. Its a matter to getting used to a foreign culture.
Kigali looked like a small time European town according to K and he too was humbled with the state of the land that was much better than the emerging super power of the IT world. We finished our business and were happy to be out of there as the system had made me start to hate my country, when our local contact said "it is good for a short time but not good for long and when you are here as long as I have been you will understand why". I chose to accept his wise words though they are half a ball of Elephantine dung. If it was so bad why had he arranged for his wife to be with him dropping her job in India from the past 8 months...Every one has his story to tell and reasons to stay. I had mine not to stay as I was visiting on Business.
Any way I and K had to come back to India to drive the country's telecom revolution integrating junk. So we packed our stories, experiences and memerobilia and were back in Mumbai. Adis was a place to relive the same moments and we caught up with a little soccer while we were snacking at a restro. We reached India on saturday morning with my wife waiting to pick me up from the Airport, its the little pleasures in life that she enjoys every time I come back from a trip. Picture perfect reception, wife at airport, executive coming out with bags, huggy huggy huggy get into a car and go to your sapno ka ghar, the saga was over. K took a cab to the domestic airport to depart for Bangalore and I came home and chatted away for the next two days to my folks who were relieved to see me back in one piece...A few hours and gifts later non one bothered to look at my face. However my dad would surely want me to do a exhaustive blood test just incase :)...
"Solieeee, ticketum passport edathoe ? ... paisayooo ??? " ... Frowning to the core having heard that 200 million times on every travel ... "edathooooooooooooooooo mummy" ......." the last line you hear while geting into the cab bound for the international airport. All through out the ride to the airport, I recieved gyan about travelling to new places from my dad, "Take care of your belongings, dont leave your bags unlocked, stay away from strangers [hello I am meeting my potential customer for the first time and he is a stranger], dont drink or eat with hotel staff they will drug you and rob your belongings [they are the ones who will serve you for 6 days], Africans are thieves, they are into drug business, yesterday two got arrested near our house and they have the highest concentration of aids [ahem, ahem, dad I am married for 4 years and I am very much, you know incontrol of my .....eeeeeerr... and I have taken a concious decision not to have kids ] My wife covering her eyes with her hands, her head down in her lap laughing away to glory in silence and pinches me from the side."
So I did it. I was an IT professional going abroad to a phoren country with 9 years of experience selected to represent my company for a very important deal, my whole family inluding my 5 year old nephew came to drop me at the airport and this whole deal was happening in Kigali ........... !@^&#%&%^$&^!%$^$!@$#@!#$$#! .. where the hell is this place ?....
Africa, east central Africa, landlocked east central africa near notorius states like Congo and Burundi and Sudan with our friend Edi Amin once living as our next door neighbour in Uganda....Kigali is in Rwanda, if not any thing, then 10 years ago over 3 million people were slaughtered in a span of 100 days by the majority community that rules the land... Ashtonishingly it is Belgian colony speaking French that likes to trade in US dollars with lots of Indians doing what ???????
Mum and dad had nothing to say... Its like falling in love for the first time, even if you know you cant tell your daughter not to go ahead with that relationship... Its first love, it was first flight for me out of this country and the only solace they had was that another sensible man with a wife, kid and ageing parents back home in Bangalore was accompanying me to this forsaken land... Enter Mr K.. yes my friend from the three command escapade.
Yes I could not have faced this misfortune of an oppotunity alone, so the dynamic duo of Sol and K took Ethiopian Airlines [We expected a skeletoneous crew and UN food aid packets to be served on board the flight as airline food] flew to Kigali via Adis Ababa.
Sans the travel arrangements which are always a pain in my company, but hey we hired you because you are multitalented [yes tours and travel planning is an alternate profession] K and I were to sync up at Mumbai and then take a flight to Rwanda. So we stood in the check-in line like crusaders, chest inflated, smiling like goats going to the slaughter in front of a muiltitude of people who have never seen luggage, they prefer to carry their stuff in gunny bags :) .. Yes gunny bags that look like striped underwear cloth. Stand at any African airline counter and you will find people carry ing their belongings in gunny bags of all sizes and shapes. We felt uneasy, I asked my self "are we blending in with the people ? Are we attracting undue attention" [with every one looking at our neatly packed luggage and Laptops strung over our shoulders]
Adis Ababa, Adis as it is known was our first stop. At the immigration counter the officer looked at my virgin passport [yes this was my first forieng trip] and asked me, why am I going to this god forbidden country which does not have electricity and is infested with canibals. I told him we are carrying solar batteries as power backup and Canibals dont have a fancy for dravidian flesh, plus I can prove I am one of them by gulping down another one standing next to me if I have to save my life. Stamp, Stamp, Stamp .... my exit was marked and the officer said, "if you live to tell please come and meet me on the way back in". So much for encouragement on my first phoren trip as a software program manager.
K was cool but frustrated, given up in life and claims he has lived in airports for the better productive time of his life. So it was not interesting for him to see mixed cultures and uniformed men and women manning the airline couters and talking to you formally with a T accent. So we checked in and got our boarding passes and were waitign for our flight when suddenly people started running towards the exit gate with their tickets and in the middle of all these 6 feet tall men and 5 feet broad women was an airline executive shouting her life out for seats between rows 25 and 40, that was us and we squeezed our way through smelly armpits and gigantic bossoms. Enter Ethiopian and the first thing that excited us was the music system. Good music [12 channels]in the airplane kept our spirits high and decent food helped us pass the 5.5 hours of flying time to ADIS. However the food troubles of K had just started.
Snore, Snore, Snore......
Suddenly people were moving around, packing things collecting headphones and washing up and I realized we were landing. For the first time in my life I saw the SUN rays change the terrain from dark to light, it was like the SUN was chasing us on the flight.... OK OK OK OK... too much nature appreciation. Adis was a shock, right from the air field where we landed that was ten times the size of mumbai airport and then the airport terminal that was nothing less than a singapore or Bangakok airport according to K. To see such world class infrastructure at the port of entry of a nation that has been known for famines, civil war, labelled by UN as the centre of starvation and disease, I could not believe my eyes. It flattened my ego, crushed pride and blew the lid off my expectation of India 5 years from today. Coming from a country slated to be the IT super power I thought that operating 80 flight / hour in a airport that can handle 59 flights was an achievement. Bull shit.... Adis was reality, a hard hitting reality of how things can be better and aplified the fact that I am part of a useless bereaucratic system in India. "Hum logon ka Kuch nahi Hoga" K and I told each other sipping expresso in the obelisk cafe.
Cafes, bars, restaurants, cyber cafes, duty free shops with the quality of goods found only in five start hotel boutiques, executive lounges that look like corporate CEO cabins in India, communication / PA infrastructure that will amaze you, and airport staff that speaks fluent english and that too all Women all 24 hours looking fresh and vibrant..... Adis airport was a complete glass enclosure where I and K spent 30 mins looking a the roof trying to figure out how the place was being cooled and ventilated. I knelt down and touched my chest with my right palm in respect . Adis humbled me.
It was time to hop onto our second flight to Kigali and we had to strip down to our socks [No we didnt take off our pants but had to remove all accessories] to go through security checks. When I look beyond the metal detector I see Africans who are looking at you intensively and who infact look more suspicious than you. But turn around and they are all around. "You are the alien MR Sol... so you are the suspect, now remove your shoes and walk through quietly" said my conscience. "WHIMPER WHIMPER - kwai kwai kwai" like a hungry naked puppy kicked in his butt I gracefully walked through the metal detector with over 80 people sitting in the departure lounge look at you strip in front of the security. K followed. Any way we passed that with flying colors. Got on to another Ethiopian flight to Kigali. Again the quality of service and food matched and exceeded any airline in India and soon we were over the land of the thousand hills preparing for landing......BTW I flew over lake Victoria and as far as the eye can see it is water and is supposed to be the biggest fresh water body in the world.
We were offloaded in 5 mins, obvously as ours was the only airplane in the airport other than three military helocopters and a business jet that seemed to be the presidents official aircraft. So this was Kigali International airport in Rwanda. Genocide stories and images haunted us all through out. But Kigali was the second shock of our life. The roads are better than Delhi or any highway in India, people drive on the right side and nothing less than Japanese 4WDs and cruisers. The only thing that excited me were the abundence of TVS victor and Bajaj Pulzar motobikes from apna India. Yes those were the official bikes of the Picky Picky's [local name for motorcycle taxis].
10 years did wonders to Rwanda, people have put aside the genocide and walked on with life and aid agencies like the UN and the European union have helped construct a productive, just and resorucefull public infrastructure system. Kigali is the capital and the business centre for many organizations. There are two state owned banks, a state owned telephone company and ISP, pertroleum outlets by Shell, the Intercontinental Grand Hotel and cars ....I mean cars. Every one drives nothing less than a toyota corolla or camry in the middle class and a landcruiser, pajero in the upper class... Mercs were like bird droppings, counsulates to public taxis every thing had a merc some where and models that our rich business men drive in India. [naak katke sox mei chali gayi] Shame, ridicule and astonishment cant be any bigger than this as we stood in the lobby of Des Milles Collines. [yes the same place of the HOTEL RWANDA fame and you are supposed to pronounce it as "day mill colleeen" and nor DES Milles Collines like how we farted the name at the airport to the tourism counter and it took us 10 mins to make him understand that this place really existed in his country] Finally we got swipe cards and we checked into our shared room [thanks to over optimization by our management we must have looked like a gay couple !@$^#@] .
No AC, NO Fan in Rwanda except in data centres or medical facilities, so also was the situation in our hotel,. But before leaving for Africa I checked up to find that the temperature range was between 13 and 26 degrees C in Rwanda during our visit... A hotel staff that speaks french, serves french fries and charges in francs if you wish to pay in cash or Euros by card. K had a tough time being a vegetarian. Breakfast was the only meal where he had any option of picking up vegetarian food stuffs. Beef, pork, fish was all that you found on the menu..And Potatoes were kept aside fried bacon in the same pot.... For a mallu like me this was wonderland, I could eat any thing and I indulged like crazy remembering at times to cut down as I was on a diet under instructions from my wife.. K used to sit with a plate full of fries and some boiled vegetables cooked in some grey sauce, one time he ordered a sandwhich and we discovered that it was 1993 when the last sandwhich was ordered in the hotel. [We had to put a name tag on the dish that arrived that read "THIS IS REALLY A SANDWHICH" sandwhich making is a scarce art in Kigali]. We spotted some pieces of bread in it by the way.
We stayed for 6 days meeting Rwandans and conducting business for our company, sharing one room [every employee would give us a sweet smile when we pass by - was it invitation or a statement "I know your little secret"] and living with each other's obscene snoring through out the night, I pity our poor wives. Rwandans are warm friendly people [until you talk about the two tribes- which we did not try] but in general we found them to be very nice to deal with.
One night our hosts took us out for dinner [which we eventually paid for] and we got the third shock of our life.... IN the middle of genocide country was a fantastic Indian restaurant called Indian Khazana where Gaurav the owner of the place personally comes to take orders from Indians. Punjabi, Rajasthani, north Indian, Gujrati you name it, every thing from India was available there. K got a breather and ate like a PIG [adding BURPS & FARTS to the obscene snores later at night.] Taste of food was comparable or even better than what you would find at five star Indian restaurants in India, no jokes it was really mind blowing in taste... Priced like a 3 star... Ee were dumbfounded with the experience and came to know that he was running this business from the last 8 years. While we hogged, pigged and gulped away at desi food we noticed that there were a lot of Indians coming in with families, kids, fiances and elders. At one point I wondered am I in genocide country ?? ...
When the country was being re-constructed a lot of Indians were posted as teachers, professors and technical trainers in Rwanda and now they have settled in the country with their families, there is even a new generation that is toddling around. I dont know how much they get paid and what they save, but by the looks of it they were pretty well off. May cultures have a proverb that goes "You can judge a man by the shoes he wears and the food he eats" and truly Rwanda projected a larger than life picture to us. May be we did not go to the rural areas but as far as the eye could see there were small houses and ample infrastructure for people to utilize in comparision to their population - 9 million
The life style of Rwandans is way better as it looks on the out side. Every one was wearing expensive clothes, designer shoes, holding two mobile phones, driving phoren cars and speaking three international languages. We visited technology offices, we visited memorials we saw the UN and aid company establishments and were amazed at the developments. I give Indian 20 years to come to that level. Roads are wide and clean, you can wear roller skates and skate to work [they are that flat and smooth].There is a well organized market, there un organized hawking, there is petty theft, but there is also a sense of freedom from traffic jams, crowded trains, stinking sidewalks and an appreciation of the government. The people on the street will greet you no matter who you are and will wish you as per the time of the day in French or Kinya Rwanda. Its a matter to getting used to a foreign culture.
Kigali looked like a small time European town according to K and he too was humbled with the state of the land that was much better than the emerging super power of the IT world. We finished our business and were happy to be out of there as the system had made me start to hate my country, when our local contact said "it is good for a short time but not good for long and when you are here as long as I have been you will understand why". I chose to accept his wise words though they are half a ball of Elephantine dung. If it was so bad why had he arranged for his wife to be with him dropping her job in India from the past 8 months...Every one has his story to tell and reasons to stay. I had mine not to stay as I was visiting on Business.
Any way I and K had to come back to India to drive the country's telecom revolution integrating junk. So we packed our stories, experiences and memerobilia and were back in Mumbai. Adis was a place to relive the same moments and we caught up with a little soccer while we were snacking at a restro. We reached India on saturday morning with my wife waiting to pick me up from the Airport, its the little pleasures in life that she enjoys every time I come back from a trip. Picture perfect reception, wife at airport, executive coming out with bags, huggy huggy huggy get into a car and go to your sapno ka ghar, the saga was over. K took a cab to the domestic airport to depart for Bangalore and I came home and chatted away for the next two days to my folks who were relieved to see me back in one piece...A few hours and gifts later non one bothered to look at my face. However my dad would surely want me to do a exhaustive blood test just incase :)...
“According to me there are only three commands”
Remarked a senior engineer from one of our would be customers when asked to help us solve some configuration issues with a telecom equipment considering the fact that this equipment has BILLION PARTS and has over 6 million lines of code in the OS that can do some crazy things. Bearing the status of a chief equipment trainer, having 14 glorious years of disgusting work lifestyle which has sucked him into a constant vaccum, where he feels even his kids will end of learning those three commands in a few years, was our best pal for 50 days from April to end of May 2006…. End of life was a thought that came repeatedly through introspection when the junk was waking up from its sleep… And when the daily soap’s over we used to be preached with the following line from the Bible of Mediation, chapter 1 clause 50 “ I am going home because my bus leaves at 5:35 and if I miss it I will reach home at the 2-O’Clocks” --- The grammar is intentional .
My self and my colleague Mr K have spent a large part of our time this year trying to integrate legacy equipment with a transaction processing system that boasts of modernity and muscle. From putting up a proposal to build, test and approve the system to finally pushing the butts of bureaucrats in the higher offices, we have done it in all levels. All this for some thing that the customer wants from us. Remember we are not hard selling our software like Phenol at your door-step. And neither is this software as miscible as Phenol in water to wipe out your operational diseases. We are talking about enterprise grade software that manages Billions of transactions and generates a few million $ in revenue ever day and some thing that competitors will die for.
Certain companies have employees that are like ageing country side wine. Only country side people love it and is only valuable to the next generation born in the country side. However they emanate an odour so strong makes you believe that you are a useless piece of the system even with all the advanced computing degrees, project management training and global customer experience, which BTW was the talk of the department when you joined your company. This wine can only be served with resilience as main course combined with a dish of hard boiled politics and finally washed up with frozen ego the size of a single elephantine dung ball passed out at precisely 12 noon on any given summer day. Believe me there are healthier menus available for these people, but some how India is the land of spicy food, burning your tongue every day so why not burn your rectum as well.
India is a junkyard for technology companies from the west, sell it here when its off the catalog there, needless to say we are in the business of integrating junk… alternate professions for me and my colleague K are as curators in the museums of these junk dealing technology companies when they go bankrupt. Our country has been a quick learner of technology and we as shining stars of this incredible revolution mastered a rare piece of junk called the OCB283 – No guesses for what it is, and please don’t email me asking what it is and I cant offer you consultation as I am busy brewing my own country wine to knock out the rest of the IT generation who will walk up to me in the Junk museum asking me --- “What is that creature in the window.” ….. A mighty BURP for 3 seconds … a few lives have been destroyed already --- No…. no this was just a simulation in my virtual memory.. So read on.
So it was 9am to 5:15pm every day for two months that me and K went to this huge facility to pay our daily respects to the giant junk god. I lived in a family home and drove 30 Kms to the destination while K lived in a shady hotel with a broken commode with the view of the most famous sewer in suburban Mumbai and was picked up by me enroute to the facility. K must have never done so much of introspection those few days where at a point he came to believe that Fredrick Forsythe and Sydney Sheldon were two African mosquitoes trying to mate with each other and create a mutant species that will take over the world by integrating their ovarian sacs with legacy equipment. “Oh my GOD” … “ Sol get me some Odomos when you come tomorrow”
The facility was never used in a hundred years, and there were no plans of using it for another 200 but still we were made to feel as if we are breathing air doused with gold dust while we are there. So started the chain of events to suck up to management to get us extension for the testing, emotionally bribing the lab staff for time extension and politically grinning at the higher bosses telling them techno cockroaches were actually interfering with the data transfer and mice in the facility were actually taking offence with their sexier electronic cousins and had murdered a few by severing the lifeline attached to our computers in the server room. Right from cables to connectors to software parameters we discovered what the customer was required to know like the back of his hand. We had enough material to write a thesis and win a nobel prize but we looked at our buddy and decided that there are indeed “only three commands” in this world for the junk god and decided that he continue as the uncrowned king of the OCB world.
What I am trying to say is that with all the legacy systems around I feel I am in the right job, today's technology is tomorrows legacy and IF I live to see that tomorrow, I still have a job trying to fix that legacy.
My boss while hiring me asked one vital question – “What is the difference between Indian and international customers” -- I said – “The angle at which you bend.” This time it was 45 Degrees. For K it was the 13th or 14th time. :)
Remarked a senior engineer from one of our would be customers when asked to help us solve some configuration issues with a telecom equipment considering the fact that this equipment has BILLION PARTS and has over 6 million lines of code in the OS that can do some crazy things. Bearing the status of a chief equipment trainer, having 14 glorious years of disgusting work lifestyle which has sucked him into a constant vaccum, where he feels even his kids will end of learning those three commands in a few years, was our best pal for 50 days from April to end of May 2006…. End of life was a thought that came repeatedly through introspection when the junk was waking up from its sleep… And when the daily soap’s over we used to be preached with the following line from the Bible of Mediation, chapter 1 clause 50 “ I am going home because my bus leaves at 5:35 and if I miss it I will reach home at the 2-O’Clocks” --- The grammar is intentional .
My self and my colleague Mr K have spent a large part of our time this year trying to integrate legacy equipment with a transaction processing system that boasts of modernity and muscle. From putting up a proposal to build, test and approve the system to finally pushing the butts of bureaucrats in the higher offices, we have done it in all levels. All this for some thing that the customer wants from us. Remember we are not hard selling our software like Phenol at your door-step. And neither is this software as miscible as Phenol in water to wipe out your operational diseases. We are talking about enterprise grade software that manages Billions of transactions and generates a few million $ in revenue ever day and some thing that competitors will die for.
Certain companies have employees that are like ageing country side wine. Only country side people love it and is only valuable to the next generation born in the country side. However they emanate an odour so strong makes you believe that you are a useless piece of the system even with all the advanced computing degrees, project management training and global customer experience, which BTW was the talk of the department when you joined your company. This wine can only be served with resilience as main course combined with a dish of hard boiled politics and finally washed up with frozen ego the size of a single elephantine dung ball passed out at precisely 12 noon on any given summer day. Believe me there are healthier menus available for these people, but some how India is the land of spicy food, burning your tongue every day so why not burn your rectum as well.
India is a junkyard for technology companies from the west, sell it here when its off the catalog there, needless to say we are in the business of integrating junk… alternate professions for me and my colleague K are as curators in the museums of these junk dealing technology companies when they go bankrupt. Our country has been a quick learner of technology and we as shining stars of this incredible revolution mastered a rare piece of junk called the OCB283 – No guesses for what it is, and please don’t email me asking what it is and I cant offer you consultation as I am busy brewing my own country wine to knock out the rest of the IT generation who will walk up to me in the Junk museum asking me --- “What is that creature in the window.” ….. A mighty BURP for 3 seconds … a few lives have been destroyed already --- No…. no this was just a simulation in my virtual memory.. So read on.
So it was 9am to 5:15pm every day for two months that me and K went to this huge facility to pay our daily respects to the giant junk god. I lived in a family home and drove 30 Kms to the destination while K lived in a shady hotel with a broken commode with the view of the most famous sewer in suburban Mumbai and was picked up by me enroute to the facility. K must have never done so much of introspection those few days where at a point he came to believe that Fredrick Forsythe and Sydney Sheldon were two African mosquitoes trying to mate with each other and create a mutant species that will take over the world by integrating their ovarian sacs with legacy equipment. “Oh my GOD” … “ Sol get me some Odomos when you come tomorrow”
The facility was never used in a hundred years, and there were no plans of using it for another 200 but still we were made to feel as if we are breathing air doused with gold dust while we are there. So started the chain of events to suck up to management to get us extension for the testing, emotionally bribing the lab staff for time extension and politically grinning at the higher bosses telling them techno cockroaches were actually interfering with the data transfer and mice in the facility were actually taking offence with their sexier electronic cousins and had murdered a few by severing the lifeline attached to our computers in the server room. Right from cables to connectors to software parameters we discovered what the customer was required to know like the back of his hand. We had enough material to write a thesis and win a nobel prize but we looked at our buddy and decided that there are indeed “only three commands” in this world for the junk god and decided that he continue as the uncrowned king of the OCB world.
What I am trying to say is that with all the legacy systems around I feel I am in the right job, today's technology is tomorrows legacy and IF I live to see that tomorrow, I still have a job trying to fix that legacy.
My boss while hiring me asked one vital question – “What is the difference between Indian and international customers” -- I said – “The angle at which you bend.” This time it was 45 Degrees. For K it was the 13th or 14th time. :)
13.6.06
As usual I never fail to keep up the tradition of visiting this space once in 8 months and trying to reciver my password using the forgotten password utility on the login page. Shame is a thing of the past and self criticism is some thing that does not work on me even if I seriously intend to change my self towards the better. Started this blog when I was high on photography and spent hours drooling at my newly acquired D70. Now the drool has dried and I have taken up newer challenges in life with my work and family and life went on and on for the last one year. Made new friends, travelled to AFRICA and now sitting back trying to remember what are the things I can write about.
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