Successful First Class...

I have now completed 1/3 of my teaching assignment at KIMEP (Kazakhstan Institute of Management, Economics and Strategic Research) in Almaty. Although it was a somewhat grueling 15 hours split over two days, I find myself excited and energized by the experience. I am teaching Computer Information Systems in an Executive MBA program. For most students in the class, this is not a topic with which they are currently familiar, or which they would like to pursue. Yet I was very pleased to find the students interested in the class and very willing to engage in discussion. Some of the students even read all of the assigned pre-reading and wrote multi-page summaries of what they read. So, a couple of observations. First off, I had expected that the students would be relatively reserved for a number of reasons: cultural differences, lack of interest in IT, nervousness over my status as PhD - and an American, distractions from the students' "day jobs," etc. What I found instead was a great willingness to participate in class activities and a desire to understand the topics we discussed. The students did not seem afraid to challenge me (in a very respectful way) or push me to provide further explanation. I particularly appreciated the "simultaneous translation" as students used dictionaries to try and translate CIS vocabulary into Russian so they could understand the concepts. One thing is clear; they have learned "English" and not "American." So, it's a shopping trolley, not a shopping cart. (Does that mean that websites leave "biscuits" on your hard drive?) Another striking observation is that while much internet activity is based on trust, these students are more inclined to distrust others. They wanted to know if their companies "could spy on them." They wanted to know why a buyer would ever trust a seller on eBay. Again, some important cultural differences. Tomorrow I move into the apartment which Joyce and I will share for 4 weeks (she arrives on July 4.) I hope to see more of the town and venture into the nearby mountains for a hike or two. I also hope to get the bulk of my prep work done for the next class session two weeks from now.

Taj Mahal

The Taj Mahal in Agra, India is one of the eight wonders of the world – for good reason. This monument to love and wealth is genuine art in architecture. The grand scale, use of symmetry, and use of water accents is truly inspirational. Of course, a lot of the allure may have been 2 ½ hours free from beggars, rickshaw wallas, and street vendors who are not allowed inside. The scale of the edifice can only be appreciated by walking the gardens and pausing to appreciate the structures from every angle. The bas relief and inlaid marble are amazing. The crowds are calm, appreciative and fairly subdued making the whole experience quite enjoyable. The Taj is most certainly a national treasure of India which the government is working hard to preserve by banning diesel vehicles in the vicinity. (Additional pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/Rick.Turley/TajMajal )

What You See Depends Upon Where You Go…

As I leave Delhi at 5AM bound for the Agra to see the Taj Mahal, I am struck by the very different India I am seeing. Sure, there are still people sleeping on the road medians, and other squatting beside the road, but the scene is much more tranquil. The city has not yet awakened and hence is not yet in its fever pitched state. As we drive out of the city we pass the government buildings and the museums. Here the architecture is regal, and the overall feeling serene. Further south, the city buildings are replaced by offices, factories, and shopping centers. We seem to have entered the suburbs. The roads are relatively clear (remember, it's still before 6AM) and the architecture is more modern. This begins to look like a city where we could do business. (I've just passed a Woodward Governor plant – are be back in Fort Collins?) Impressions seem to be about choices. Where do you choose to visit? What questions do you choose to ask? To paraphrase an important line, wherever you go, there you are. So choose wisely.

Spice Sauna…

I've never seen a riot. Today I came very close. We left the gate aboard our busses for our Spice Jet flight from Chennai to Delhi at about 8 PM. It was clear from the start that this was not going to go well. While we waited on the tarmac, the incessant drone of the auxiliary a/c unit ebbed and flowed. As we boarded the plane, we were immediately assaulters by hot, humid, stale air. The aux a/c was not functioning at all, and the temperature was easily 100°. As more passengers filed in, the temperature continued to rise. Soon sweat was dripping from our faces, and down our entire bodies. The stale air was suffocating. Then it started to get interesting. A reassuring voice told ups "We'll be able to start our engines and turn on the a/c as soon as all passengers arrive and are seated – 10 to 15 minutes - 20 minutes at the most." At first a few, and then many passengers got up to stand by the open door. Before we knew it, most of the passengers had left the airplane to stand on the tarmac – over the objections of the flight crew. When, after 40 minutes, we finally we told to prepare for takeoff, the passengers grudgingly reclaimed their seats. But when the plane did not immediately depart, a mob once again rose to their feet to voice their extreme displeasure. Some wanted the airplane doors reopened so they could go back outside. Others demanded to enter the cockpit to talk with the pilot. It was starting to get ugly. The plane was taxiing while passengers were still blocking the aisle and demanding that the doors be reopened. I thought a lot about how crowds reacted in similar situations I've been in. I felt as if this group was very quick to complain, and was quite unrealistic in their expectations about what could be done. I had felt that Indians would be more stoic and patient. Instead, they appeared to be aggressive and determined to be treated well. Hmmm…

Sunday Night's Allright...

Sunday evening seems to be family night at the beach in Pondicherry. What earlier in the day was small groups of wandering folks, became a sea of humanity in the evening. As eeveryone celebrates the cool sea breeze, street vendors hawk their goods. We are offered and endless number of chess and backgammon sets, small drums, and food. The crowd seems tranquil and happy. The street is blocked, and there are no horns! What a paradise. We didn't mind missing our movie, beause the people watching was so good. Children begged for another ice cream, and young couples enjoyed being close under the cover of darkness. Pondicherry certainly has resort feel - very different from the rest of India which we have seen so far.

Parlez-vous Français?

The French Quarter of India? Surely you’re joking! Only 160km south of Chennai lies the seacoast town of Pondicherry (Puducherry.) This anomaly on the Bay of Bengal is an oasis in the otherwise noisy, crowded, and rushed world of India. Controlled variously by the French, English, and Indians over its colorful history, Punucherry represents welcome relief from the bustling Indian cities. We could easily have been in Paris or New Orleans. Coffee and croissant, cappuccino and pastry, espresso and crème brulee. Puducherry reconnects us with western European familiarity. We are no longer the only white faces in a sea of Indians. The pace slows. The breeze is welcome. The change of scenery is restful. Yet we do not escape the ubiquity of poverty. The beggars are still working the streets. The familiarity eases our discomfort. It’s just a reminder of what a long, strange trip it’s been.

The Ballet of the Traffic - Part 2...

After spending 2 weeks cursing the auto rickshaw drivers for their incessant badgering about whether we wanted to hire them, we finally found ourselves needing a ride. Then the negotiations began as one driver after another refused to take us while using his meter. They quoted rates. We refused and walked on. We finally got the 20 rupee quote we wanted, only to have another walla inform our driver that he had to raise the quote to 30 rupees. And the dance begins. The attached video provides some idea of the excitement of traveling in a motor rickshaw on the streets of Chennai. Lane markings are an infrequently utilized suggestion. Acceleration is always at a maximum – but with a 175cc engine, it’s not very much. Drivers weave and bob looking for even the slightest advantage. Following distances are closer than I am even comfortable standing next to another person. Yet for all this apparent chaos, there is an incredible structure. Drivers are courteous, always allowing others to cut in front of them. Horns are honked continuously as a courtesy to other drivers and pedestrians. In fact, many vehicles tout a “Please Honk” sign on the back. While I am always grateful to survive any time spent near a road, I am also struck by the apparent serenity of an extremely noisy and presumably dangerous undertaking. How do you find peace in chaos?