It’s true!- Delhi can be relaxing

Just because blogs are sometimes meant to be sources of *useful* information, and because I am in need of some myself, I have decided to compile a list of nice places to go and relax in Delhi. Not the sights, because they have been well-documented in hundreds of guidebooks and on the web, but more nice places to go to see something that perhaps isn’t there and (especially important for people living and working here) help you chill out a little.

Sitaram Bazar/ Chandi Mahal

Sometimes you want to see some part of Delhi that is authentic, yet not be hounded by rickshaw drivers, punched by street kids or secretly groped by passing strangers (I was with Anne and Carmen when we went there, I didn’t get groped myself ;-). It is still packed in sections, but doesn’t have that threatening air of the really crowded markets nearer to the tourist sights. It seemed as if not many people walk through here, and the “hellos” were genuine rather than seeing if you expressed any sort of interest to warrant a further probing of your current marital status.

You enter near the southern exit from Jama Mosque, and wind your way approximately south-east to exit somewhere near the Delhi Stock Exchange at Delhi Gate.

The Bazar is made up of shops that are more like those closer to Jama Mosque; “Old Currency Exchanges” (we were presuming from old Pakistani currency), Chapatti shops with queues of men waiting to be thrown a spare one, live goats and chickens awaiting instant slaughter, and the wonderful artistic creation that is power cabling in the inner city. Nothing too remarkable, but it felt nice to be able to see it at a pace that we could set, without worrying about what was happening behind us or around us.

Raj Ghat/ Shanti Sthal

We only made it to two of the shrines to Mahatma Ghandi and his grandson(?) Ravi, but this park stretches for a good few blocks more northward. What it is is a large, well-watered green area especially at Shanti Sthal, with lots of shady trees. There are a few people walking around but really a tenth of what you’ll find in the centre of Old Delhi even on a Sunday, which makes for a nice rest if it’s too hot or the crowds have got too much for you. We spent a couple of hours just sitting before we had to go, and it would most definitely be a spot I will go back to between seeing sights in the old part of the city.

Manju ka Tila

Another area that seems to defy the noise and heat of Delhi is this quarter, originally that of Tibetan people’s in exile, and still home to a small community today. It’s not easy to reach, but you should be able to get an autorickshaw from Vidhan Sabha Metro for about Rs20, and the bicycle rickshaws would be even cheaper. You’ll see the Tibetan prayer flags as you approach, both on the top of the buildings and across the pedestrian overpass.

Inside the height of the buildings mean that the noise of the nearby Ring Road and the heat seem to be shut-out, creating the illusion that you really are walking down the streets of a Tibetan city block. Naturally there are lots of traditional and not so traditional Tibetan handicrafts for sale, the shops functioning as tourist outlets as well as places for the inhabitants to buy their everyday needs.

I need to say it again, the relaxed nature of the atmosphere (not a single shop-owner even attempted to get us interested in buying something), makes it a great place to take a relaxing walk while the chaos of Delhi bubbles outside. Of course most people like Tibetan handicrafts as well, and some of the books with their hand-made covers looked pretty attractive. There are some restaurants serving Tibetan food (don’t ask me what that normally is, but the chicken Momos at Peace House tasted pretty good, and there is at least one Internet Café that serves good coffee, according to our ‘guide’ Jakob.

Relaxing Delhi- we found it and managed to spend pretty much the whole day doing it…

The loneliness of a long-distance worker

This isn’t going to be a lament to how difficult it can be arriving in a new country as someone who is expected to fit right into a new environment and how in the time spent outside that environment- geared as it is mostly around work- it can be difficult to adjust to living a ‘normal’ lifestyle (at least I am conscious that it shouldn’t turn into that ;-). Its purpose is more to try and articulate something that I was struggling with today and that I tried to articulate to my fellow colleagues (who are practically my only social contact at present).

I guess I could sum it up best by saying that beginning a new long-term job in an alien country for a small company makes it hard to quickly find and get into a, ahem, life-rhythm (I told you I was trying to articulate it today, obviously coining terms to define abstract concepts is not my strong point). One of the hardest things is that you practically start from square one when you arrive. You know very little about how simple things operate in the country- how people buy their vegetables, what the deal with phone contracts are, how the public transport system operates. Sometimes these things are close enough to what you know to make the transition simple, but most often they aren’t. There are of course ways of making the transition a little easier, as in most countries there exists some “western” equivalent: think shopping malls, and taxis for two of the above examples- I can’t think of one for the mobiles. What I’m trying to say is that these things can be solved, but they aren’t really long-term solutions. They are also a long way removed from what the locals would do, which is another reason for trying to avoid these easy solutions and “do what the locals would do”.

That’s certainly what I attempt to do as soon as I arrive in a new country- I find it helps me fall into the afore-mentioned rhythm much quicker, and achieve one of the goals of working in a “developing” country (although don’t try and tell Indians that their country is still a developing one- they’ll point you towards the number of millionaires/billionaires and the fact that two of the richest 10 men in the world are Indians, and heads of giant corporations). That goal, at least for me, is to find the positive differences from the life you are used to, and embrace them. That’s a little difficult when your daily rhythm includes as many things about home as possible. One, it’s is hard to maintain when the rest of the society lives differently, and secondly, it’s a little artificial.

Perhaps describing my personal situation would help the understanding a little easier. I tried in vain to find a bedroom in a house or apartment that was already inhabited by a few others- like a share-house. The reason being that I thought it would take care of things like I mentioned above- how do to some of the everyday things that make life a little simpler, without having to ring someone up or bother the landlord. Those requests are part of any natural learning process in a new city- but made more difficult when you don’t have someone available there to answer them. Secondly, purely for the added company at the end of a work day, sitting down to eat together once in a while- look, I don’t have to explain to you the advantages/disadvantages of share-housing, but perhaps you can understand how they are a little more valuable when moving to a new city in a new country. At the very least you have an instant circle of acquaintances, and most of the time it doesn’t take long before you can call at least some of them friends. The situation that you all find yourselves in makes that transition much easier.

For whatever reason that didn’t work out, and I know now that that *function* that a share-house would have provided is basically what I am missing at the moment. Moving into a new flat means you start from scratch. I at least have some furniture, but nothing else. No food, no cleaning stuff, not enough power points, some utensils, etc. It’s not a living area at the moment, it’s a hotel room. Even when you head off to the supermarket, you are trying to buy things as if starting a life from scratch- you of course have not sugar, flour, oil, salt; but also no spices, tea, coffee, washing up liquid, washing up sponges, mop, broom, tea towel… etc. And you get perhaps one or two chances to do this shopping because of course you’re also working. It doesn’t sound too much- and it really isn’t, but… let me try another tack.

Here the cooking is done with gas, and that means getting a gas bottle. My gas bottle I left half-open (half-open means open at the bottle attachment, off at the stove, and it leaks) when I was away for the last week, and all the gas ran out. So I needed to get it changed. So, what do I do? Landlord problem? I guessed yes, so I asked him (he lives below me). He, probably wanting to avoid doing any more work than possible, told me to ask my boss, who now conveniently for him, lives only a few houses away. Or he said you could just go down the market and get it filled. But the market is a couple of km’s away, and I don’t really want to carry a gas bottle that far. Besides, the market’s a big place, and I have no idea where the fill station is. And isn’t there someone to do these kind of jobs? I’ve seen motorbikes loaded with about 6 gas bottles at the same time, putting from house-blocks to get filled. Can’t I just get one of those numbers and call them up? Here’s the crux of what I’m trying to say. Everyone knows that this *can* be simply done- so as a simple job they don’t pay too much attention to my concern that I *need* it done. But they also don’t tell me how I can do it simply myself- they either want to do it for me (but don’t have the time right now), or they tell me to ask someone else (which I guess I have to do every time I need a simple job done). And even if they do have the time today, what happens the next time I need the same thing done- ask them to do it again? Just tell me how to do it once, give me a phone number, direct me to the shop, and I can take care of it this time, and the next twenty times.

So a simple job gets a little more complicated, just because I don’t have this knowledge on how to get things done. It’s not a big deal, and this isn’t a complaint, it’s simply trying to give you an idea of how this feels to me at the moment. It’s not allowing me to get into a rhythm of living, and that makes me uncomfortable. That was it is- some discomfort, nothing more.

A conveyor or a winch?

Before I get into today’s trivia question, just one thing I feel needs to be addressed. I’m currently sitting in the lobby (to use a flattering word for what is basically the entrance door) of the Maharaja Hotel here in Samod watching what apparently passes for cricket nowadays, the Indian Premier League. So here’s my confusion- I’ve seen approximately 20 people that are obviously of European origin during my time here in India. That’s 20 out of 1.2 billion people- a pretty small percentage. However, apparently this percentage makes up 100% of the available cheerleading stock in India- given that the only cheerleaders you ever see at the IPL games are quite obviously not of- well let’s just say Indian ancestry, at least.

So today’s trivia question is one that I’m sure has baffled many a Business Strategy Manager across this little blue planet of ours- what is the most efficient way to get 300kg of harvested worming compost from the harvesting field to a sieve that separates saleable material from rubbish or bulk material?

Firstly you may well be asking- what the hell has that question got to do with Business Strategy anyway? Well, I hopefully can put it this way- part of the strategy in this business involves producing fertilizer, and that means that someone has to answer these questions. Given the current lack of availability of fertilizer production consultants- the responsibility then has to fall on someone. That someone basically means, to a large extent, me.

Here’s your basic sieve (lovingly drawn for your appreciation in Office Impress). It takes raw harvested composted material, shakes around a bit and only passes the finer material through a metal sheet with ½ cm holes cut into it. Larger material slides along the screen and falls off the end. The sieve weighs a ton (literally) and needs the input to flow onto the highest point. We don’t know at the moment how fast we can pour material onto the sieve for to work at its most efficient, but we’re estimating something like 20kg every 2 minutes.

The problem, then, is that raw input is being harvested at a site anything from 20-150m away from where the sieve is located. The output of the sieve needs to be packed into wondrous bags of Miracle fertilizer, and that packing area needs to be static, so moving the sieve really isn’t an option. The challenge then, quite simply, is to get the material from a harvesting site that can vary to the sieve. And a constant flow of material at that to keep the sieve working at maximum capacity.

A few things had to change then. We solved the varying location by getting a little motorized tuk-tuk that can be loaded at the harvesting site before driving to the sieve. Now you might be able to see the issue- we need to get the 300kg of material from a height of about 50cm into the sieve (at a constant rate) at a height of 1.5m. Simple problem, right? So we came up with several ideas.

A ramp seems like the simplest and cheapest solution, but tuk-tuks are normally not built to take 300kg, and trying to drive one to 1.5m off the ground would mean either an infinitely long ramp ;-) or a more powerful tuk-tuk, i.e. there were serious doubts if the tuk-tuk would make it.

A conveyor would allow us to unload the tuk-tuk a little bit away from the sieve (at a point more central to where we were harvesting) and with a decent enough design would allow us to unload the harvested material by just pushing it out of the tuk-tuk and having it “flow” onto the input of the conveyor. They’re not too expensive (about $400 for 8m) and would mean a constant input flow to the sieve. The most expensive solution (intuitively) and the least flexible- although the input we can tinker with a bit.

Then it was time for the creative solution- some kind of “bin” that the tuk-tuk can easily dump material into, but that we could easily then lift up to the height of the sieve and shovel the material in. Our solution was a joint creative effort- we have a “catcher at ground height or at least with sides no higher than the tuk-tuk floor, and then we find a way of lifting it up (either by a winch system or counterweights) and then the material is pushed out or slides out when it’s at 1.5m off the ground.

Pretty cool, huh? Of course there is a little problem contained in that simple word “lifting”. How do you lift almost half a tonne of material 1.5m off the ground? Using the best of my mechanical engineering memory (i.e. practically none) we came up with a few ideas. Didn’t I learn something about pulley systems that allowed you to lift lots of weights even if you were a bit of a weakling? Couldn’t we use a balance system and a counter-weight? What about a winch- they can do pretty amazing things with relatively little engineering right?

So after trying to conceptualise how this would work in our heads, we decided we didn’t want too many 300kg counter-weights jumping up and down around where people would be constantly working with the sieve- might result in some nasty stubbed toes. The winch seemed like the natural choice- basically doing a similar ratio transfer of a pulley, but stronger and simpler to operate (those wires were going to have to be fairly large through the pulleys- probably?) But who knew about making winches to lift a half tonne “bin” off the ground? Someone in Chomu apparently, who showed us a nice little system with a simple two cog pulley driving a steel wire reel to go up, with a safety catch to stop the thing from freewheeling back down, and a brake for when the bin had been unloaded. Almost perfect. Of course then we asked him the price he wanted for this thing- which turned out to be about 3x that that we were quote for the conveyor… :-/ So all this design work, a system that wasn’t quite as good as the conveyor, but I was pretty proud of how close we got… all for the bargain price of $1200.

Back to the… well, back to the conveyor manufacturer.

“Market” research

Another perfect mild night in Samod, Rajasthan, the lightest of breezes blowing as we debate whether the big lizards catching insects under the lights qualify as authentic geckos or not.

I am recovering from learning about the definition of “cool and refreshing” to your average Indian. I purchased some “cool and refreshing” Jaljeera drink mixes at one of the single-cigarette vendor stalls; it looked like a “cool and refreshing” lemony kind of drink. The instructions also said you could add “more lemon” as required, so it sounded somewhat promising. It ended up, however, tasting like the equivalent of a curried egg dissolved in cold water, which was as difficult to finish as it sounds. I guess I should have been warned when I thought someone had farted after I opened the packet, but it was in fact just the smell of the spices that make up the concoction that is Jaljeera. Therefore the next 15 minutes that I spent trying to down said pickled egg also involved trying to decipher what this drink could possibly have to do with “cool and refreshing”. Certainly not much to do with my idea of refreshing which would have been the equivalent of the lemon thing I thought I was getting. It was some relief to learn that refreshing to an Indian means some sort of stomach refreshment rather than that to the palate…

Today falls under the category of why I love (and hopefully some would be bold enough to say ‘thrive’) working in a small, dynamic organisation so much: being in the position to do things you wouldn’t normally have the opportunity to do. Of course it helps when that small organisation is based in a small town in Rajasthan, India, and the opportunity involves something that would probably only happen in a few select areas of the world.

GreenOil are currently attempting to step up their marketing of their (ahem) revolutionary nano-tech vermi-compost, and that means trying to get their product into the minds of the average farmer in the surrounding area. So how do you do that?

Well, farmers have different time-clocks to the rest of us. They start work early (most of them before the sun comes up), even when they are doing something that doesn’t require them doing that, like transporting their produce to sell in the main vegetable market. So how do you work out how best to communicate your message to them? Well, unfortunately for those of us with those different time-clocks responsible for working out *how* to communicate that message, it means getting up with them and going to the same place they go- the main vege market.

Unfortunately getting up at 4:15am meant also relying on our compatriots to do the same, and we didn’t get to the market until about 6:00am. Kind of luckily, however, it was the day after a full moon. Why was that lucky? Because (and this is either partially accurate or complete bullshit, depending on which of my colleagues you talk to) according to Rajasthani Hindu belief, a full moon marks the time when the ghosts of your ancestors decide to pay you a return visit, and they don’t want to see you conducting any type of business when they drop by. So it meant that the market was ‘closed’ or that only 20% of the normal business was being conducted inside it. So it gave us a chance to walk around and see how a farmer might be fed the GreenOil Karishma (it means ‘Miracle’!) message.

How do you feed a Rajasthani farmer a message about miracles? A damn good question, and one that we are attempting to answer thusly: You plaster is on as many unused spots inside the market as possible, putting up banners, posters and you paint any unused bits of concrete. You “sponsor” the Chai stall (although my idea of having the stall guy make free Chai for every farmer was overturned- apparently you don’t give anyone free stuff in India because then they don’t value it- sounds vaguely familiar?… ;-) I can recommend his Chai if you’re even in the neighbourhood though)

So that’s our strategy- we are offering to make free signs for the wholesalers who buy vegetables as long as that sign can include our logo (kind of like the way Coke sponsors small take-aways), sweetening the deal by putting a picture of the wholesaler on it (after all, who would lose interest in a poster with them on it right?). We will go banner-crazy and paint every blank or decrepit wall. My “market” research involved trying to identify all lines of sight that I could in the market to work out which wholesalers we needed to approach. Whenever those stray cows get out of the way- you’ll see a Greenoil Karishma logo subliminally changing your obsession with chemical fertilizers ;-P

An early start and our whole Marketing strategy was decided by about 2pm- I’ll let you know how it goes next week. I presume you can tell I’m still loving it here…

Oh and BTW, anyone with any ideas on how to promote a new, unproven (at least from the farmer’s point of view) composting fertilizer to relatively receptive (and by receptive I mean willing to try new methods that will improve their productivity) is more than welcome to leave a comment.

Chalo!

Delhi Vocabulary

Today has been a tough day- I’ve either eaten something dodgy or completely hit a wall energy-wise, and if it’s the latter that doesn’t bode well for 358 more days (approximately) of the same sort of stuff. I trekked into Old Delhi today despite feeling a little under the weather in the morning, and a ride on the Delhi Metro didn’t help my condition.

The centre of Delhi is one huge market- teeming with people going everywhere and doing everything, and this was on a Sunday, when most of it isn’t even open. It’s a real treat for the senses- if your senses like everything being completely shoved at them, up them, into them and onto them. Partly from this experience, I have decided to start a Delhi vocabulary, just to help you at home understand a few terms here.

The Delhi Symphony Orchestra can be appreciated from almost all over Delhi, but the vicinity of the Red Fort would have to be one of the best sites. The instruments are very similar, but they manage to cover most octaves to give an impressive performance. Once they start playing in time it’s hard to stop their building crescendo. (I hope to add a sample here later)

A Delhi shampoo is free, it doesn’t need water, or for you to be taking a shower for that matter. It’s a perfectly natural process that is experienced simply while walking the streets. After only a day your hair will feel stiff and knotted, like it has been fixed there by a kind of “dust gel”.

The Delhi Indian “head wobble” is a sign from your Indian counterpart that sends a clear signal or yes, maybe or no, depending on what they happen to mean at the time. Most of the time this movement seems to mean that they don’t actually understand what you’ve asked them.

The other list that I feel compelled to start today is one of Indian strangers who have decided that I am the kind of guy who might be interesting to talk to.

Excluding the conversations I have had with rickshaw drivers trying to convince me that I need one of them despite me constantly repeating that it wasn’t going to happen for them today, there were two notables. (They were so notable that I can’t remember their names- this is also being written to try and improve my hit-rate in that department).

Short beardy was in front of the Red Fort, and wanted to know what I thought of Ricky Ponting.

Firstly I was accosted by Muslim father’s kids, who wanted a photo and then were disappointed that my camera couldn’t then print it out for them. They were “collectors of foreign money”, but apparently not of 1c euro coins, unless I gave them two, which I didn’t want to. So then they gave it (i.e. the one I would give them) back to me. Their father engaged me in a conversation for about half an hour, which was nice while sitting in Delhi’s biggest mosque. It was a Sunday, which means that everyone basically comes with their families and spends the day there, the kids running around, the women mainly talking, the men also. It certainly wasn’t as segregated as I have heard that Mosques normally are, and the dress from the women was certainly not too conservative, hardly any full burkas, many more saris than anything else. The women tourists were all given these gigantic floral dresses which made them stand-out like nothing else, and they probably were also the ones (like me) who got charged the Rs 200 “camera tax”, which of course was done without checking whether anyone had a camera- if you look like a whitey you get it. I guess if you knew what was going on and didn’t have one then you might be able to argue and not pay it. I won’t be next time I go back, to climb the tower that overlooks the city.

Anyway, back to Muslim father, a really reasonable guy, like to talk a lot about Allah and how I wasn’t going to heaven for not praying for mankind’s sins five times a day, but otherwise was trying his best to preach brotherhood for all men and not just Muslims. One of those talks that are interesting to have but can’t really go anywhere unless one of us changes our religious beliefs in that 10 minute opportunity.

Images from Samod, Rajasthan

Lobby of our "Palace" Hotel in Samod

View from the top of the sand-mining setup in Samod. The sand is silica rich and used to produce glass. It's got this wonderful change of colour to it as the afternoon sun sets.

One of the local attractions at the Samod "potentially married women" festival

View from our "palace" Hotel in Samod over the surrounding hills. GreenOil's power plant is slated to be built to the left of that mountain on the ridge.

Religious (Hindi) colours of Samod. You but these to approach the temple.

A cow sneaks a snack. Don't let this picture fool you into thinking this is normally tolerated.

One of the no-doubt millions of photos I will take from eager lookers-on. This is from the market in Chamu.

Freshly squeezed sugar-cane mixed with mint and salt. Mmmmmm....

Concluding business at the market in Chamu.

The local water-dispenser. She kept waving to me every time I went past so I asked if I could take her photo. The water is free, those on the side of the can are "donations" worth about 2c each.

Pride comes before the fall [07.04.2011]

As is perhaps too oft my wont, I got a little over-cocky. Not that anything went wrong today, in fact far from it- I got to meet the team at the GreenOil fertilizer business out in Samut, about 50km from Jaipur in Rajasthan today. I got a really solid introduction to all that they are doing, and even participated in some attempts at problem solving for the fertilizer production business. So why should I feel shitty?

I get the feeling I just went about it the wrong way. I wasn’t as inclusive as I should have been- and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing- and that’s why it’s a bad thing. I gave myself a stamp with them before really knowing what it is that they expect from me or how they can contribute to the success of GreenOil- and that’s what I’m ultimately there to try and get done. Sometimes it’s hard to walk away when you see that there’s a problem to be solved and little progress on the planning process for its implementation- but that’s precisely when you have to think about the future. If I solve it now, who will solve it when I’m not here? And that’s what I’m ultimately there to do… It’s even tougher when you look at the situation GreenOil are in at the moment. They need to generate revenue- and that means excitement from a buzz, solid sales and production plans. It’s crucial to their (our) success RIGHT NOW- and things need to be solved. It’s natural that you want to help to solve them. But not if that damages your ability to help them solve their long term problems, and that’s perhaps what I did today. I might have overstepped the mark and alienated myself. A little silly, but hard not to be caught up in the excitement of trying to solve things…

Certainly something to work on- and probably ask how much “damage” I have possibly done :-/

Enough about my problems though- let’s talk a little about what I saw today. GreenOil’s fertilizer production takes place in a field, which they oversee from a converted office/house. Raw materials come in from local suppliers (of banana leaves and elephant dung), and are arranged into composting rows. These rows are then “seeded” which earthworms which are “produced/ reproduced” on the premises and then the wondrous process of composting begins. After 60-90 days (a little variable at the moment) the compost is ready to be bagged and sold to surrounding distributors that service the farming community.

Sales are obviously key to GreenOil being able to generate revenue, which is of the highest importance at the moment. GreenOil are looking to become cash positive by the end of this year, and that requires the ramping up of sales within the next two months. Generating buzz for a new product is obviously one of the hardest sells, especially if it’s got to be a product that is good enough to warrant repeat sales. It’s not an impulse product, it’s got to convince people to try it and then it’s got to work. THAT’s GreenOil’s biggest challenge at the moment.

[10:37pm]

So I have just had a quick chat about my concerns with Anupam, my so far unbelievably great boss and CEO, and he thinks that my fears are unfounded today, and that experiencing a little resistance to my, ahem, personable attempts to get myself involved in everything as normal. Not to worry about it, but I will definitely keep it in mind.

Last note of the night comes from our walk after dinner. We leave a quite magnificent-looking hotel where we are staying for the night. Prashant, Anupam and I head right out a completely unlit road, passed by only a few vehicles. We’re in the countryside now, few houses, less lights, only the dim stars through a hazy sky. It’s slightly chilly, but still very pleasant. We turn left up a non-descript road, Anupam remarking on a hill we can make out the outline of, that he climbed once with his two children. They made it to “the lion’s nose” which is an outcrop that could kind of be called that if you have his sense of imagination ;-) Past this mountain we spot another smaller hill onto a sand-dune, marked by a tree on the horizon. “You see that?” he asks me, “That’s where I’m going to build my digester.” We climb, without torchlight over soft sand to reach a crest, from where we can see another slightly higher hill. There is the “lion” mountain to our right, and we can see back into the valley of Samod. There are only a few lights, and fewer sounds. The crickets are the only ones besides us out tonight. “Just beyond that next crest, that’s where our land will start. It’s 6 acres, and follows slow folds; up and down… up and down.” There is a village lit-up beyond, and it’s unbelievably surreal. Then we all lie down in the sand which has completely lost its heat from the day, and stare up at the sky. The surrealism is almost overwhelming. I’ve been in India… erm, not even 4 days. I’ve finally met with Anupam whose enthusiasm, knowledge and ideas have surpassed my expectations. I’ve been involved in discussions from the history to the future of the company, everything from organisational development possibilities to marketing Bio-Fertilizer to hard-to-pin-down farmers and retailers. Today I was trying to solve the possibilities of how the fertilizer packaging system can be ramped up from about 100 bags a day every month or so to 500 bags daily.

There’s a new challenge everyday, some of them I’m expecting, but most of them are seat of the pants stuff. I know it can’t stay this way, but I am absolutely loving it at the moment. I could give myself every task I’ve been exposed to so far and be deliriously happy for the next 6 months at least. The week’s almost over, dammit!

It's too good [06.04.2011]

I know this love affair can’t continue. Things are so obviously in the romantic stages at the moment and I can’t be seeing reality. All the signs are there. Wonder at everyday things like birds and flowers and cows. Ridiculous feeling of importance when doing routine things. A sense that you’ve been friends for ever when it’s been three days. An inability to see anything wrong with the other (apart from the chaotic driving). An absolute enchantment with the different flavours that she brings. Beautiful flowing garments that you can’t take your eyes off. Yes, I’m talking about a women and her name is Maharajah India.

It can’t be love, it’s only been three days. It must be some sort of strange enchantment that can only end in tears. It will end in burn-out, or some sense of perspective, surely. Maybe. But boy, I’m enjoying the ride so far.

This morning, our meeting on the organizational structure of GreenOil had to be slightly postponed, and was ‘transferred’ to another location. This mysterious location involved us creeping along the freeway at 10 kph while we looked for the “secret spot”. An emerging bum held some promise, but that wasn’t where we were meant to go. We simple reversed up the freeway and did a U-turn, finally pulling over in the emergency stopping lane behind some others who had just taken their dogs for a walk and were trying to shove the unwilling mutts back into their car. We locked ours and headed into a completely deserted park that I’m sure I would have felt weird going into on my own. Actually, “park” is a little too simple. It was more like a nature reserve, in that you walked a fair way and could see nothing but trees, even though the freeway was right next to it. While Dananjay explained the temple of some Indian deity or other to me (there are about 1000 for every day of the year, so I am told), our CEO appeared with a flip chart and a rug. We made our way to the main area of the park and as the only people there, had our pick of the available patches of grass to begin our “meeting”. Organizational Management has never been so picturesque.

That afternoon we convened at a local coffee shop with one of GreenOil’s advisers, Rajeev, and tried to trash out GreenOil’s marketing strategy for their fertilizer around Jaipur. Great process, interesting ideas and I learned a heap about things I may never understand, but I’ll be there soon enough (tomorrow, in fact!! yes, things are moving pretty quickly- you guessed that yet?). So let me break it down for you. We had to find the most reliable place where farmers in a village congregate. Our only reliable suggestion was the temple. It’s on a top of a hill and most of the farmers need to follow one of two routes to get there. Temples, however, need money to buy things to enable people to worship the deity. So we would look to sponsor the temple’s celebration primarily the Pradash (offerings) and flowers. Then we needed to work out how the message of our product could be integrated into this method. What better than hymns interspersed with ads for our fertilizer? What better indeed! Somehow we have to “close the buying loop” though- that was a trickier one. When they came down from their deity worship, how would we get them to follow-up with our product? Does it sound crass? This is India, boyo! And don’t you try and come between us- we’re in love.

Anything but work [05.04.2011]

So my fellow Delhi virgin offsider at GreenOil (Dananjay) must be wondering what he has got himself into. He has been officially appointed my chauffeur and Delhi tour guide to solve whatever little problems I might have. I feel a bit ridiculous, but I guess this is the only way we will get the things done at the moment. And it’s really great to be given the time to do them.

On my first afternoon in Delhi, we went, ahem, clothes shopping. I mentioned that I had refrained from bringing too many business clothes from Europe with me because I wanted to see what people here in India wore and recommended. Of course they wear completely Western clothes that anyone in Europe wears and that I could have bought with me from Germany (of course that is also assuming I have a large range of Western business-style clothes ;-) We spent a fair bit of time trying to find something that I actually thought fit me well and that I was happy enough with the price- I thought India was supposed to be cheap!- well it probably is but not at the deserted designer label shops in the mall, populated as they are by 10 different serving staff for the 5 customers that are in there.

Delhi arrival

I have arrived in Delhi and am now sitting in a pretty comfortable little room which is part of a concrete complex at the USI (United Service Industries; which is some sort of association setup for Service Personell, I think mainly the army and, ahem, visiting diplomats like myself). There was a guy doing the mindless job of sweeping dirt from one side of the path to the other, and a guard in a blue uniform “patrols” the beat outside my window.

I have seen as little of Delhi as is possible, having been met by Anupam, my new boss at GreenOil at the airport are driven to this complex. Even in that short drive, we have been stopped by 5 officials, 3 in the airport carpark checking that we had a valid ticket to get out. Not much else to report, the smell of diesel(?) hits you as soon as you walk out of the airport, lots of people walking along the highway and indeed across it (apparently you need to honk your horn to stop them from walking in front of you and killing themselves), and the normal near-misses when merging traffic that somehow people who drive like this all the time manage to become accustomed to.

As an aside, I’ve already seen a little bit of the money talking here, but to be honest it solved a problem that I was grateful for and would have been happy to pay for. We got here early in the morning of course, which meant that I wasn’t able to check-in yet. But Anupam then negotiated an early check-in all the same, by asking about the “protocol” for such things. The protocol is you apparently pay for another half a day. Not too shabby though- it got me a shower and an hour lie-down time.

Delhi has turned on the weather for me as well- today should be a mild 29 degrees.

Just went down and had some breakfast at the compound (as I’m now referring to it) restaurant: complete with bagpipes on the wall and drawings of famous Indian commanders in their colonial general’s outfits. Really felt like being in something out of colonial times, especially with the five wait staff employed to serve the two customers there (the capacity is perhaps for 100 people?). Everyone speaks Hindi amongst themselves, and I was even asked by a guy in combat fatigues if I knew where ‘Part D’ of the complex was when I walked back from the restaurant to my room. I get the feeling asking for directions to offices is going to become a regular occurrence. Oh, by the way, the restaurant wasn’t called a restaurant- It is signposted with the words “Retreat”.

I have now eaten at the Retreat twice, broken up by a visit to the local currently-under-construction mall where I had a passable Thali meal. I felt a bit shameful actually eating it in front of Dhananjay (recently-hired sales guy for GreenOil) seeing as he and most Muslims are currently in fasting mode, with the start of the Hindu New Year today. So they only get one meal a day apart from some fruit in the mornings.

I just wanted to mention the Retreat for its actually pretty good Vege Jalfraezi(?) and Indian-ness, staffed as it was tonight by at least 8 waiters for the 8 tables that were occupied there. When they weren’t occupied they stood together with their hands behind their backs looking like well-behaved school kids, watched as they were by the school/master, who was allowed to wear a tie instead of a bow-tie.