Journey to the end of the World- 53 degrees south

The journey to the edge of the world sure sounds ominous but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. The journey that took me right to the southern most region of the world was fairly uneventful but the sheer excitement of touching a southern latitude was sufficient fodder for the travel bug within me. Hard to say if I am bitten by that travel bug or contaminated with it. The past few months would seem to suggest the latter.

Anyway, for those geographically inclined, given the North and south poles are at 90 degree latitude and as far as the northern hemisphere goes, you could go almost upto 85 degree on land . South is different, vastly different and by the time you are around 55 degrees there is no land between that latitude (southern tip of the American continent) and the Antarctica peninsula. And imagine my delight to know the Hotel I stayed in Punta Arenas (one of the three most southern cities in the world) was right next door to the old post office. This is the place where Robert Falco Scott, the British Naval officer sent off 400 letters to several people announcing he was back safe after discovering the Antarctic peninsula. That was in 1904. Several years later in 1911 he lost the race to the South Pole to the Norwegian, Roald Amundsen and the journey ended with his death. I am told they were not all that prepared and even their sled dogs couldn’t take it.

What am I doing here? Punta Arenas is the city right by the Magellan Strait. He was Ferdinand Magellan almost the first person to circumvent the globe and its been 500 years since he found that route that connects the Atlantic to the Pacific. The town is all his for sure; and when you consider the intrepid explorers that chose this path to go to lands unknown, traversing the angry seas and this one did prove that the earth was not flat; contrary to popular belief at that time. That must have been quite a voyage. Originally from Portugal, he managed to upset his masters so much so that they pressed criminal charges against him. He somehow managed to get to Spain where the King was magnanimous enough to sponsor his trip to discover the elusive passage to Asia. The year is 1518- After a route starting from Lisbon and heading south along the west coast of Africa the ships head west towards Brazil and Argentina. Between countless spells of intrigue, treachery, betrayal and other such shenanigans they find the strait. What a momentous occasion it must been and hardly did he know he’d have towns, streets, GPS and even the small penguins named after him. I know a few people that we can have weasels named after them. So after he crosses over to the pacific side him and his entourage get to Philippines to their way to Malacca which was supposed to be their eventual destination. Magellan gets into a scuffle with one of the local tribes and gets killed and with him his ambition of being the first person to circumnavigate ethe globe lies 50 feet deep in the Pacific. His second in command, Juan Sebastian Elcano manages to reach Spain three years after they set sail. The year is 1521.

The gateway to the Torres del Paine national park is on a route that heads north from Punta Arenas towards the city of Puerto Natales. The trip to the Torres del Paine is just over 90 mins from there and once you’re in that region, you could be on the moon. Secluded and majestic in its appearance its all about the blues. Blue skies, blue waters, blue hued glaciers and Paine actually means blue. Chile and Argentina are so co-joined here and you could literally be on the Argentine side in less than an hour.

Its home to the largest count of the Puma. Puma- What a cat – sits on top of the food chain here and he’s got plenty of Guanacos to feed on. Guanacos, part of the camel family are wild and love being in a herd. The Puma is a loner, he is more of a cat than a lion. He doesn’t roar, he meows and loves to eat, sleep , rest and repeat (Some of you may be able to relate to him and it certainly sounds like me on a weekend!)

I was fortunate enough to get sightings of the Puma and a herd of Guanacos and the picture perfect landscapes of the region are as close as you’d get to see unpolluted , virgin surroundings untouched by civilization. Sight of a broken piece of an iceberg made the day even better.

Missed seeing the Magellanic penguins- The penguins migrate to the Isla Magdalena , close to Punta Arenas starting in Sep. They usually hang out around the Atlantic and make the two month journey to get to the place for breeding. Interestingly they do this journey every year and create quite a ruckus on the island. Perhaps later this year, these penguins get the opportunity to see me. Much like the gorillas in Rwanda.

Some fun facts & FAQs-

  1. Penguins may walk funny they are monogamous and stay loyal to their partner their entire life
  2. No- They don’t serve Penguin soup at restaurants there
  3. You cannot adopt a Puma. They bite and they are highly carnivorous
  4. Pumas are not considered an emotional support animal and the airlines do not allow them to travel on your flight.
  5. Guanacos are fast runners but usually end up on the Puma’s dinner plate because simply put, Pumas run faster.
  6. The entire Patagonia has less Spanish speakers than Miami
  7. The wind velocity at the Magellan Strait is enough to carry you away to unknown destinations

Travel tips-

Fly to Puerto Natales directly from Santiago, Chile if you are in for the Torres. If you want to be part of Magellan’s city, you’d better fly into Punta Arenas. You could always do a multi city trip. And the Bus Sur that run between Punta Arenas and Puerto Natales on the Ruta de final de mundo (Route to the end of the world) are absolutely the best way to get around.

Murakoze Rwanda- Journey to the land of a thousand hills and a million smiles

My own piece on my mission to Africa- Opinions are my own, mostly facts and any resemblances to goats, people are purely intentional.

The Bridge that launched a million smiles!

The bridge the mission and instances of my own ineptitude!

Embarking upon the mission was a mix of nervousness and excitement and in spite of several discussions with my predecessors I had that lurking fear of heading into the unknown. Wikipedia, You Tube, first hand accounts do not prepare you well enough, you can watch, you can read, you can talk but unless you get your own boots on the ground its hard to experience the feeling of being in Central Africa.

And being a bit wary, the first flag was when the visa I had applied for came back within 48 hours and with an error wherein they had listed my birthplace as Turkey. Little did I know I looked like a Turk (which to me was a compliment!) ; however a simple one line email fixed that. The Rwandan embassy came back to me less than 24 hours later and corrected it and issued me a visa that was accurate. What made it even better was their use of the valediction– “Welcome to the land of a thousand Hills and a million Smiles”. That was that one boost I needed to look forward to my adventure.

The desire to do something different, be part of something that enables a few smiles is what most of us aspire for. And you don’t need to jump on a plane and travel halfway around the world to do that; you could do it in your neighborhood. But what prompted the Rwandan mission was to make a difference to people that are starved of the basics in life, people with real problems, people with real challenges. Not people who complain about the heat and humidity or the fact that their network speed sucks.

There we are- A team of 15 from different locations around the globe working with Bridges to Prosperity (B2P) to help build a 140M Cable suspension bridge in the Nyanza Province of Rwanda. A place south east of the capital city, Kigali and million miles away from the comforts of home.  B2P is essentially a Denver based NGO that work with developing nations and corporate partners all over the world to make the world a better place by building bridges in rural areas. Here’s the link to their website

The funding was almost in place and the thanks to several colleagues and friends, we were able to raise up $60K in just about 3 weeks. Kindness and generosity ain’t dead. The prep work consisted of grabbing everything that may have some use – Getting vaccinated for almost everything but Rabies and yellow fever. After copious reading and research, I found yellow fever shots are not needed for Rwanda and rabies- well that was just way too expensive and I made a mental note not to pet the gorillas or for that matter any mammals when I got there. If I had a compulsive desire to pet a goat in the village I would gladly ask one of my vaccinated co-workers to do it on my behalf!

Visa check, cell phone check, vaccination check, camp mattress check, pillows check, personal safety gear check and of course sun cream. It had only taken me 27 years to realize all skins burn, yellow, white, black and brown- and its not just a White privilege!

After a long haul flight from Houston to Istanbul and then on to Kigali- That was a journey and a half. What I noticed is the detour flights takes heading into Africa since Sudan was a no-fly zone and I couldn’t wait to get my feet on terra firma. Fortunately better sense prevailed and I had decided on getting there a day early- Acclimatize and getting to spend a day in Kigali. What did strike me on my way in to the hotel was the unlittered clean streets . Just a surprise considering every third world country I have been to , garbage is sort like a trademark. I later found out two very interesting facts. One Rwanda banned use of plastic bags in 2009 and every fourth Saturday at the end of each month, they ban all vehicular traffic for 3 hours and every citizen gets going and helps keep the streets clean. Umuganda is a national holiday in Rwanda taking place on the last Saturday of every month for mandatory nationwide community work from 08:00 to 11:00. Participation in umuganda is required by law, and failure to participate can result in a fine. The program was most recently re-established in 2009, and has resulted in a notable improvement in the cleanliness of Rwanda. That is just awe inspiring and so unexpected but explains a lot.

Rwanda has quite a troubled past and those of us that were old enough to follow world events in the early 90s, the genocide was a highly dark chapter in their history. While it all culminated in three months in 1994, where over a million Tutsis were systematically killed by the Hutus in an incredible spate of violence. Practically families, neighbors and friends turned against each other in an orgy of murder that has thoroughly traumatized society. This chapter of Rwandan history is still green and quite an emotional one and one of the drivers I spoke to in detail opened up to me on the horrors and the aftermath of it all. You are best advised not to broach this rather sensitive saga with the locals. I did get an opportunity to visit the Genocide museum in Kigali, which in itself was a gut wrenching, emotionally draining experience. A must visit if you happen to be there.

Heading to the town of Ruhango and settling in to our accommodations- A shock a surprise but took me about 2 hours to get accustomed to the basics of nature. It was like being in a dorm- Three to five people to a room and a small matter of sharing a communal bathroom; one between the 22 of us including the Bechtel team, the B2P staff and the like. Using the term “shower” is an exaggeration, I’d better use ablution facilities to represent the water filled bucket and the squatter’s toilet. Basic but gives you a perspective of what the local community accepts it as a norm. The sleeping quarters where you start to get used to all the moans, groans and snores which I would christen as the “morbid symphony of Ruhango”

Use of common greetings in Kinyarwanda struck quite a note with the locals and helped “bridge” any apprehensions felt initially. The terms “Mwaramutse” (good morning), “Mwiriwe” (good afternoon”), “Murakoze” (Thank you) were the most popular ones. At work it was a slightly different tone with cries of “Hagarara” (Stop), “Yego” (Ok) and “Tugende” (Lets go) and that reverberated all day long.

An endearing experience will always be the screams and cries of children that would chase our vehicle through the small hamlets as we commuted to the bridge site. Cries of “umunyamahango” (Foreigner) and “Goo-doo morning” would echo is my head for years to come. And when the kids came over watching the build and some of them venturing out to make friends with us with was just the elixir we needed to keep going. For some of the team, this was highly entertaining and novel but from those that have been to or grew up in impoverished regions, this is just how life is.

The bridge itself- All I can say is the teaming with the local community was a refreshingly amazing experience. The level of collaboration, being in the ditches with them working under the searingly hot equatorial sun was something I had not experienced before. It was hard manual toil and you had to hydrate yourself constantly and not to forget to apply copious amounts of sun lotion and definitely not a walk in the park. That’s something I have to emphasize – Its pure hard work and while it would all seem glamorous on the surface and “cool”, it’s a testimony to the efforts of the crew on the ground and the backroom staff that made this endeavor possible.

And a note on my own skills (or lack of it!)- For a person that had glued his own knees to the floor while installing floor tiles, I am rather proud to come off unscathed. My ineptitude with handling small tools is legendary and I only wish the poor villagers and my co-workers in the Nyanza province did not have to see me monkeying around with impact wrenches, grinders and even a pair of pliers! If Neil Armstrong said that small step was a giant leap for mankind, using an impact wrench to tighten a small bolt was nothing short of spectacular! An Indian in Africa may not be big news, but an Indian trying to wrestle with a grinder on his own without any adult supervision is folklore! And hey who better to make fun of me than me, right! As they say, it all worked out in the end and I am back with all my fingers and toes intact.

At the end of the two week period, we could look back with a sense of accomplishment and be proud of what we had done. Built a bridge that would link the communities together. Built some friendships, built a legacy and in my best German accent I could say “I’ll be baack”

The larger team had a mixbag of characters – From the sublime to the ridiculous, from the protected to weathered professionals, from strategists to wannabees. It takes all kinds to make this work. And one thing of note- People took to drinking warm Primus beer at the accommodations like a duck to water not because they loved it but because it was better than the other option.

And how could I ever miss our partners in crime- The goats. Of course the goats that seem to rule the roost in the valleys of Ruhango. With deep regret and sympathy I must mention we had to procure four of these hoofers to provide a feast to the local craft in form of a barbeque lunch. They were carefully procured, tested , butchered and grilled and apparently they were a hit with everyone, well not everyone so its with mixed feelings I say this with no bias- One person’s sorrow may be another one’s feast.

Cannot say I have regrets- It would have been nice to get a day off and go off see the big 5 at the Akeygera National reserve but they will always be around and we will always be back. Small price to pay for the rewards.  Well, the gorillas would just have to wait to get their sighting of Ashok!

Murakoze Rwanda – You are definitely a cherished memory and you did walk the talk- The land of a thousand hills and a million smiles!

A journey of need- Germany & Poland

My journey through turbulence of WW2 and the cold war- Germany/Poland

Europe- Germany- Poland just saying these in the same sentence seems like someone’s about to embark upon a tale of World War II. And that’s what exactly I did- heading on a trail that took me from the end of the World War 1 to the end of the cold war.

The trip culminated in decades of reading, watching , vicariously living that era in Desutcheland and eastern Europe. It was a childlike delights being able to see, touch and feel the streets, the buildings, the landmarks and being able to sense it in person. While the journey evoked a massive amount of sadness within me as I felt the evil doings of the Nazis and how one human could possibly do things to another.

My days in Berlin took me to the famous glass dome of the Reichstag- The German parliament building where the plenary chambers were completely wiped out in the fire of 1933, months after the Nazis came to power. It wasn’t used during the third Reich and in fact it did not open up for operations until 1999. With its slogan “Dem Deutschen Volken” and some graffiti made by the marauding Red Army in 1945, it’s a symbol, a monument of unified Germany overlooking the Brandenburg Gate. (Tip- Please make reservation online a few weeks prior to the visit. While its free, it fills up quick.)

The Brandenberg Gate is that absolute symbol of the end of the Cold war, the wall collapse and of course the stage for the third Reich powerful parades. As a reference the gate was in the neutral zone of the Berlin Wall. The Reichstag was on the west side of Berlin. As I stood there, it took me all but a few moments to get transported to that era when the place was cold, surrounded by barbed wire, an inner wall and then looking into west Berlin. Parisian Platz is an absolute joy to be in shouldered by the famous Hotel Aldon, where Hitler infamously made the Czech leader wait an eternity before deigning to meet him and then screaming at him causing the Czech to faint.

TIP- Public transport was one of the best I have ever been, The Berlin Welkom card for zones BC enables you to unlimited travel on the trams, buses, S-Bahn and the U-Bahn.

The pedestrian crossing signs in the east Berlin side has that guy in a hat and its different from the signs West Berlin. The guy in the hat was how it was during the East Germany (DDR times). Its endearing!

I walked over to checkpoint Charlie- Site of many a spy novel and thrillers. Its almost overwhelming to be standing there again letting the mind work its magic. The walk on Wilhelmstrasse then the turn into Zimmestrasse and Niederkirchnerstrasse is to feel the grim silence of the cold war. A short walk from there takes you to the memorial of the Jews which again takes you to some heart wrenching stories from people that perished from the holocaust.

The second day for me in Berlin was a travel through the darkness of the Topography of Terror museum which stands on grounds of the SS and Gestapo headquarters and it truly shakes you up when you walk around reading about the horrors inflicted upon the Jews, Sinti and Roma gypsies and the homosexuals, mentally challenged and the site plans were finalized for the “Final Solution”. There was this great exhibit on the Warsaw uprising that brought a stark reality to the travails of Poland and how Warsaw was razed to the ground inspite of the brave underground Poles that resisted the Wehrmacht.

Then this amazing thing Germans have done is to preserve several of these memories of extreme horror; a means to acknowledge the crimes but mostly to make future generations aware of how dark that era was. My journey took me to one of the main concrete bunkers built near the Alhalter station, famous for harboring several thousands of German civilians during the Allied bombings in 1945.

And as I started my day I decided to hop over to the East side gallery- where a good section of the Berlin wall is intact and has enabled graffiti artists to express the cold war and freedom in many forms. Then a visit to the Cecilienhof palace in nearby Potsdam, where the Big 3- UK, US and Soviets signed the Potsdam Agreement that set the course for post war Germany and Poland. It was just surreal being in the exact same room where Churchill/Attlee, Truman and Stalin sat in July 1945 and signed off on the agreement. The palace grounds are a pure joy to wander around and the town of Potsdam is just charming. On the way back from Potsdam, I had go and feel for myself the infamous Gleis 17 (Platform 17) at Berlin Grunewald station where thousands of Jews were transported by rail to the infamous death camps east- Auschwitz-Birkenau, Belzec and other. Makes you shiver in fright, as I stood at the desolate abandoned platform.

 

The next day took me to me one of the earlier concentration camps, just outside Berlin that housed political prisoners and barracks that were later used by the Soviets- Sachsenhausen. Its hard to explain the emotions as you go through the prison cells, wait, close your eyes and feel the morose ambiance.

The journey across the border from Berlin Lichtenberg to Krakow, Poland was shrouded in thought and sadness making my way to the death and I chose to take the rail. While the medieval of Krakow was a happy place to partake in the local Polish cuisine – A mouth watering recipe of the Polish summer hunter’s stew consisting of Kielbasa pork and cabbage followed by a delicious serving of pirogis. A visit to the 13th century Wieliczka Salt Mine was more of a distraction but was an enriching experience nonetheless. (Tip- Do not attempt to do the Salt mine and Auschwitz-Birkenau the same day. The Polish Zloty goes a long way and stands at 4 to $1 USD. Use Uber liberally in Krakow).

The last day in Europe was all about Auschwitz and Auschwitz-II (Birkenau)- A very emotional experience and from the time you enter the camp gate with that sinister sign “Arbeit macht frei” meaning “Work will set you free” makes you shiver.  A sign that symbolizes persecution, horror and death. The tour takes you into the camp barracks built by slave prisoner, the horrid living conditions and that prisoner hierarchy that had the Jews at the absolute bottom. Unspeakable emotions envelop you as you walk into the infamous Barrack # 11, the place of torture, execution style killings and a short walk away from the basement that served as the first Gas chamber. The very mention of the gas chambers and Zyklon B crystals is nerve wracking as you start to imagine thousands of women and children being told they’re being led to the showers for a thorough rinse. Mass murder, crimes against humanity, deep anger builds up. The short journey to Birkenau that has that evil symbol of the camp gate seen from the offloading ramp of the rail carriages. Where thousands and thousands of Jew and others were offloaded and led to their deaths; hard to even pen down the grisly experience.

HOW CAN HUMANS DO THIS TO ONE ANOTHER? EVEN BESTIALITY DOESN’T BEGIN TO EXPLAIN THIS!. RIP

D-I-Y- A four letter word

So what’s this DIY again? Seems as mythical to me as the Unicorn, Santa Claus or tax cuts. Did you grow up in India? Well, if you didn’t you probably have no clue what I am talking about do you?

I actually grew up in a quaint little town called Bhopal; Bhopal known world over for all the wrong reasons- The 1984 Union Carbide gas leak accident that left thousands dead. It used to be an erstwhile Kingdom and it was actually one of the most fun places to be in. I lived in a huge converted palace with god knows how many relatives. So big that it gave me plenty of secret alleys to hide in and it took me 6 months to realize who my brother was. That’s the thing about joint families, no one bothers and you basically get away with anything.

And then of course , being India, everything was done by someone else. D-I-Y? Well the only DIY we did was to pick up the phone ourselves and ask for someone to come over to fix a broken piece of furniture or wash the vehicles. And before anyone gets any ideas, we eventually moved out of that gigantic joint family and spent the rest of my formative years in a 200 sq feet tenement. So of course the only vehicles we saw were the ones driven by others and owned by the others. And how about laying floors, fixing a broken fence or assemble a bed? Now that is really pushing it because as simple as it sounds to you, its still rocket science to me. It just simply does not happen in India. We never got to do do anything ourselves. Someone else was always called upon!

So imagine the shock of it all when I started living in America. So the guy at IKEA hands me a compact box and says that’s my bed. If jumping out of one’s skin is possible, it actually happened to me then. So I am supposed to put this together? I am supposed to look at that sketch of that Apollo 13 and use the screws, nuts and bolts and assemble a bed? Sure enough being hard up for money, I attempted it. And of course after a sweaty, on-the-knees session on the bedroom floor, I thought it was mission accomplished. Then my eyes go and I see 21 screws quietly ensconced in a corner. May be the Swedes were generous and gave me that extra helping of screws? You can run your mind on what the bed looked like? Well it wasn’t exactly a square. If I call it pathetic it would be highly unfair since that is a superlative for the piece of wood that stood on three and half legs!Bad Assembly

And then there was this instance when I had to fix a couple of floor boards which of course involved some rather mule like adamant adhesive. After having smartly spread that adhesive on the floor board, somehow in a fit of extreme enthusiasm I ended up kneeling down promptly on the part where the adhesive was generously spread.So here I am in this position, stuck to the floor and by myself in my kitchen. I managed to slither and reach for my phone while still having my knees stuck to the floor. Voice recognition or Siri doesn’t recognize an Indian accent if you knew that. So 911 and here comes the guy a few minutes later and guess what he does? He laughs until he cries! He couldn’t stop and for him it was the most ludicrous thing he’s ever seen. And being at the receiving end, it was very unfunny to me. I am sure he must have thought- What’s Apu doing on the floor? Isn’t he supposed to be running the cash register at  7-11?

Since then I have vowed not to get too adventurous with DIY.  I will skip a meal a day, I will walk to work, I’ll try to live off one kidney so I can afford to pay those handymen that have absolutely no compunctions about charging me $50 for a 15 minutes check in. Of course if not for me, their families will die of starvation and I’d be accused of stealing those American jobs!

So much for D-I-Y! It is truly a four letter word!

The Indian stereotype- We do it to ourselves!

This is work of non-fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely intentional

This is work of non-fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely intentional and no animals were harmed during the writing

And just when I thought stereotypes were going extinct, there it comes back! Some races are targetted by others for most part and with the newly arrived Indians they tend to raise their middle finger to others and proclaim-How dare others stereotype us! We are gonna stereotype ourselves and before you spell Naan, I am going to do it to myself! The saga continues!

And I can vouch for this. I am not someone who had to do any kind of massive research to make this observation. An FOB (Fresh Off Boat) immigrant myself from the land of snakes and elephants (no, not the African grasslands) from almost 20 years ago, I have seen, I have observed, I have cringed and I have been known to utter the occasional four letter word (that has nothing to do with human anatomy or any of your close relatives)

Staring-

The other day I am on the treadmill running at just under 5 mph, this Indian sub-continental gentleman (Could be Indian, Pakistani or Bangladesi) walking on the adjacent treadmill starts to give me the famous stare  and keeps that on and doesn’t relent (Yes staring is a favorite pastime for Indians). Now we all have seen how Indians love walking, ambling, walking briskly but running?  Take a peek as you drive along suburban Washington DC and you can see quite a few. So if you run you are going to stared at by your fellow brownies. Accept that.

If you are reading this and you are not of Indian origin and have visited India, you know what I am talking about. You must have been stared to with rigour and felt 500,000 pairs of eyes digging you in the back and more if you happen to be female.

The H-1

So who are those H-1 Indians? Aspiring yuppies from certain parts of India that fly in armed with an IT degree, work as contractors and then absolutely refuse to assimilate with the mainstream. They tend to congregate, co-habit and collude with each other. You’d see them most likely drive a Toyota , Honda or other Asian cars (High resale value!!) and then you have the upper echelons that may have the Lexus or Merc. All said and done, they have got to be in the IT sector. Anyone in any other business may be considered a pariah I suspect!

H1B

Apparently they seem to have some kind of dress code – A short sleeved or full sleeved striped polo top, “sneakers” and tube socks and that is something you cannot miss. Don’t believe me? Take a walk in any middle class northern VA community and you will not miss any sightings!

IT-

A few weekends back, I was approached by this gentleman in a striped polo at a party and it too him all of 120 seconds to ask me if I was in IT. When I replied in the negative and told him I was in EPC Project Management, he didn’t give up. He followed me and promptly asked me again- Ok, EPC Project Management, but is that in IT? I had nothing to offer but to blabber gibberish and pour his drink over my head. I only hope for his sake and mine, we do not run into each other again.

The PJ’s-

And have you seen some women walking around into the friendly neighborhood grocery store, with utter disdain for norms, clad in nothing but fluffy flip flops, night PJ’s and looking like they just rolled out of bed and have taken the term “casual” to new depths? Well, hate to say it and if you happen to bump into them, you will see they are the feminine version of their H-1 spouses.

Call center-

And aren’t those just a way of life now? I was on the phone last week with a customer service associate “Steve” (We don’t really have Steves in India) from some one who was trying to sell me time shares for a holiday resort (Shame on me for having picked up the phone!). He starts with this rather nasal north eastern American accent and as he starts to realize my accent is fairly Indian, his accent I kid you not, is starting to transform. From the New Jersey accent to a regular IT guy from Hyderabad. I was on the floor, phone hanging on to my ear, banging my feet on the floor, rolling in laughter. Now I did not want to put the phone down. This guy, who originally introduced himself as “Steve” finally broke down and his name was Sudarshan. I paid him a rich compliment and hung up with an assurance of “Let me think it over”. So when you think of messing with your Indian colleague with the “Is the call center guy your cousin” , chances are, there truly a cousin of everyone of us that works in a call center.

And now for all you ignoramuses- We do have elephants in India, but no, we do not ride them to work. We do not have HOV lanes for people sharing an elephant and they are not part of the growing Uber population.

 

Snap poll- Your opinions matter

What, in your opinion, is the most significant issue facing mankind today?

  1. ViolenceIMG_0608

  2. Hunger/Starvation

  3. Climate change

  4. Commodity prices (Oil, minerals)

  5. Economic disparity

  6. Disease