work in progress

when multi-national companies plan and execute a “global sales conference”, they tend to do it in stages and in multiple locations. our company had three conferences this year; i attended two of them on opposite sides of the world. the theme of the conference was “one <company name> ”. this is part of our transition from a fragmented and separated firm into a single global entity which is working together on common goals.

the second of the conferences i attended was in india, at a conference center near the taj mahal. the event was attended by 700 of the local staff (management, sales, marketing, customer service and technology people), 23 invited guests from the business groups in four other locations, and one technology guy who crashed the party by more or less inviting himself along for the ride. would you like to guess which group one i am in?

flying into dehli for a conference in agra involves long bus rides to get to and from the event. i noticed the first night how many signs are spread around delhi that proclaim “work in progress”. a simplistic reading of those signs would assume they meant the rail system which does not appear any further along this year than it was last. a deeper impression is that the signs mean the country over all.

as you drive in india, you are shocked by the amount of building material that is simply piled in any open lots, on the side of the road, or many times directly in the road. bricks, gravel, soil were all apparently dropped and forgotten where they are. it appears to be a logistical error, because you also see an unbelievable number of construction holes which have been dug and seemly equally forgotten. you do begin to question, are they forgotten or simply not filled because they are not sure which random pile of material was meant to fill which random hole?

besides dodging rubble in the roads, driving in india also requires dealing with traffic involving all sorts of vehicles, moving much slower than those coming up behind it. lorries, tractors, buses, horse or camel drawn carriages, auto-richshaws and bicycles can all be found on what sadly classifies as a highway in india. the common denominator of the other vehicles is the fact that all were horribly overcrowded with people, goods, grain or unimaginably large piles of bricks. the results are the constant use of horn to demand the lumbering vehicles make way for those behind.

the level of overcrowdng is made more apparent when a bus less than half full of well paid, well groomed, well feed expats pulls up along side a local vehicle in a bottle neck of congested traffic. the air conditioned expats stop sipping their mineral water, and ignore their ipod loaded with music/video for a moment to glance over at the hot, sweaty, crowded and bored locals next to them. almost every time, the locals will burst into a smile and wave. asking why they are so happy to see you is useless, it’s simply easier to smile and wave back which further brightens their smiles.

india is country of contrast; truly a work in progress. but i am not sure what the work is? there are new buildings going up all over the country. and as you drive you can see other buildings which look as though they have either fallen or been pulled halfway down. the piles of building material randomly left all over the country do sit next to half built or destroyed walls, which makes you wonder if the material is truly rubble of collapse; rubble which was simply never cleared. could the country simply be falling apart from lack of attention as we roll by on the way to the airport?

how can a country of 1.3 billion people, who are exporting professionals all over the world, be 600,000 doctors short of its ability to provide health-care for its people? how can a country with so many poor and unemployed people, not put people to work clearing the roads, if not building proper highways to allow you to cover short distances in reasonable time? how can liter build up in layers in all over the country and not motivate someone to pick up at least their front yard?

having grown up in a country which is dominantly clean, well run, modern, stable and progressive you simply do not know how to view india. the common view by the outside world is that the country is just sad. too much poverty, too much garbage and too little action to correct it is hard to understand by those who have left poverty and garbage in their pre-industrial past.

it may have been a function of the time spent together on the bus, or the fact that we were all naturally outsiders to the country, but the group of 23 invited and one self invited guest appeared to make the deepest connections on this trip to realize the “one <company name>” concept. future trips to visit each others offices, future chances to work together and coordinate efforts were planned; and i am confident will be executed. the spirit of working together to succeed was there, and was contrasted with much of the rest of the message that was localized.

the country and the message then appear to equally be a work in progress.

service language

when i got here two years ago i realized quickly that i could completely function in english and would be able to eat without learning a new language. i don’t think this would be the case in other parts of south east asia, but thankfully malaysia (or is that just KL) carries its british heritage in its language base. i have realized this has begun to change.

the first indication of this was in the bakery i visit on my way to the office. the staff was originally all malaysian. they were was a mix of malay, chinese and chin-dian staff members who were fun and interesting to talk to. over the past two years, the staff has gradually changed to 100% burmese. along with the changes has come a difference in tone with the staff. they are no longer smiling and open, there is a shyness that could be a lack of comfort in english or the fact their country is a dictatorial regime that beats buddhist monks for marching in the streets.

the next was in the café i go to on weekends for the much loved blueberry pancake. the staff was again a mix of chinese, malay and indian staff, all local kids who were again open and fun to talk to. there was recently a new group of indian kids hired but they seemed different. they again were quieter. i realized they were less capable of communicating well in english. when i tried to use bahasa they were completely stumped, which confused me because my accent has gotten much better. i then found out they were sri lankan, and spoke no bahasa.

the last was a new place that opened, it looks and feels like US based restaurant and is open late so i can go there after the office to have a quick bite or just to be around people before going home. there are locals working there, but they also use a large number of burmese and indonesians. the trend appears to be to use foreign staff in roles that are supporting. not as table service, but to deliver food and clear. as the staff gets comfortable they are integrated into the customer service aspects.

this is really not a new element of restaurant service here. the mamak places use tamil staff in the same way. when they here longer, and thier english/bahasa improves, they are given more customer service also. so these other places are following a long used method of staffing. but it is one thing to go to mamak and have tamil speakers serving you, and another to go to a western restaurant, one catering strongly to expats (or those who emulate expats) and have staff who can not speak to you.

don’t misunderstand me, i like the cultural diversity. i love the language diversity; learning is one of my favorite things about being here. but needing to learn two more languages to get more caffeine is a challenge, is tagalong and cambodian next? besides, the real issue is that the staff is less comfortable and it shows in the service. i like to talk to staff, to make them smile and to let them know that i appreciate the help and the effort. how can i do this if we can’t communicate?

the real question i have is why is malaysia going outside the country to find staff. are there not enough young people in this country who need jobs? what about those kids who are mat rampit on saturday night? why are they not serving tables? i learned work ethic by doing almost every job a restaurant can offer. for a country that would seriously benefit from more jobs, and more tourism, malaysia does not appear to understand that restaurant service is a professional job that people can make a career. or, that will prepare them for a different career, you know like software consulting.

i tell people malaysia is like aruba, i mean the weather of course. but the people in aruba have been thought two things that would help malaysians. first, the image of the country is set with every interaction with visitors. in aruba, you can feel the desire to make you comfortable and happy while you are there. the second is that language matters, all locals are taught 4 languages in school, they are fluent in english, dutch, spanish and papiamento (a regional language much like bahasa). imagine malaysia if all people spoke the english, arabic, mandarin and bahasa. imagine the number of tourists who could come here and get great service anywhere in the country; assuming that service also becomes valued.

again, i don’t mind, because as of today i can say, “taval coffee aka, esthuthi”, which will get me one more coffee when i am in columbo. now i just need to learn that in burmese.

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note: i asked about this while i was writing, there is no labor cost savings, but by going outside the company is able to lower attrition, as retention built into the contract. malaysias do not see F&B as a career role (which is really sad), and are role fickle so retention of is important. the later is true in both restuarants and software.

one more

i was asked by my boss a few months ago if i thought of myself as a workaholic. we were sitting at a table full of guys who work hours, carry pressure and make or execute decisions that burn out many of the former superstars that our company hires each year. the guys around the table are friends, associates, competitors and critics. there is not a single slacker in the bunch, if they were they would not have gotten here or lasted. i answered the question; partially.

a few weeks ago the same boss brought the same team together and said thank you for your efforts last year. we were happy to be able to give you all the cash and stock bonuses that you received two days before. then, the conversation turned to the remaining 10 months of the year. the basic message was, you need to do better, you need to work harder, you need to be more aggressive and provide more leadership. taking a group like this and saying you are not pressing hard enough could seem like a strange message to send. but it worked, things have picked up.

i have been called a workaholic most of my adult life. i don’t really see it that way, but others look at me and tend to sit back and tell me that if i don’t slow down i will never make it to the end of the race. how can you work 60 hours a week, have what reasonably should be two jobs at once and continue to push week by week? how can you do this and not suffer from it?

the trick for me is to never do i job i don’t enjoy. once something stops being fun i leave and find something that is. once i lose the passion to get up and get to the office, or to send that “one more” email that leads to another and another, i simply decide its time to be happy again. family rule number two comes into play and you need to make the call.

i was talking to my ex-wife this morning; she has obviously seen me at my best and worst over the years. she saw me grow a company, win contracts, deliver on projects that no one thought we could accomplish and finally walk away from it all. she has seen me push past the point where i should have broken, she has seen me where i was broken and yet i continued to work. she told me working until 6:30 AM this morning and getting back up at 10:30 was not worth it. it is.

during the meeting a few weeks ago i decided it was time to really take the challenge. if this is what was being asked for, i would give it. i want to succeed, because i have promised people that i like i will be there for them. i have shown them a possible future, now its time to make it really happen. the previous 60+ hours was not enough, it was clear that was true. that only gave me 30 hours per job, and in this environment 30 hours at your job is openly slacker behavior.

i am now working 90+ hours a week, spending about 15 - 16 hours a day in the office, going home and checking email before going to bed, waking up and checking email before i go to work. i am working during the weekend, on things that previously would have stacked up until mid week or later, they are now done by monday morning letting me focus on the work of the week. i have done more phone calls (with people on three continents) in one day than i used to do in a week. its working, with more immediate direction people have been able to move faster and mistakes have been averted.

i have been told by multiple people that i need to cut back, but honestly i feel better than i have in a year. i am more organized, more things are getting done, i am directly involved in almost all the work my staff is doing. i can feel it paying off; i am enjoying the success that comes with being able to cover both jobs fully. it's not hours that burn someone out, it's the realization that you can't succeed.

when i was asked if i was a workaholic, i replied “no…” and before i could finish the sentence, my bosses head was turned to talk to someone else. i thought i saw a glimmer of disappointment at my answer as his head turned; clearly being a workaholic was valued. the rest of the answer was “… i am not a workaholic because i love my job and i am not doing it for the money; i am doing it for the satisfaction”.

i feel more like the mom that stays up late to wash clothes so her kids can have them in the morning. she works while they sleep. that’s what you do for your kids… isn't it?

wet soup

one of the great things about malaysia is the food culture. having cheap, good tasting and simple food here only takes finding the local mamak or hawker stand. going out and for a quick dinner of chicken satay, sup ekor (thai style oxtail soup with chili padi) and apple juice is easy. it's just as easy as finding grilled seafood, dim sum, sushi, chicken rice, pizza, waffles, chinese/malay/indon fried-rice or italian style pastas. for me, getting any of these only means running down to the near by expat/hawker place full of small stalls in an open air settings.

although even in paradise you can run into issues if you are not careful. tonight was satay and soup night. as i got ready to go out the door, i decided to slip on sneakers, this is the first time i have worn then out in months. because they dry immediately, i normally have on croc sandals (called slippers here). it has been raining all day, but it was nice and clear as i looked out the patio door, so why not do something different.

i made the 3 minute drive down to the hawker stands, and luckily found parking right on the street. as i got out, i thought of the rain again and considered taking my umbrella from the backseat. again, i decided against it. the massive storm earlier in the day was over, there was no way it could rain again. the skies had emptied just two hours before, complete with amazing lightning shows, and it now looked clear. safe to walk a block down the street and have a quick meal.

i am sure you see where this is going. 10 minutes later, i am sitting under a roof, with empty tables around me. i had taken a covered table just in case; most people were out in the open air. as i paid for soup, the last of my order to be delivered to the table, people started to scramble under the roof quickly filling all the other tables. the rain i was so sure was not going to happen was about to start; i knew by the sound of it down the street. i used to sense coming rain by random drops lightly touching my skin, now it’s the roar of torrential downpours marching towards me.

as i finished eating with a half soaked table, the wind picked up and people continued to push tables more tightly together. closeness was to avoid the wind driven drops from drowning their table, their food and themselves. as people jammed in more tightly, it was as though the rain was reaching further in to touch the hiding tables. i moved my table in closer to the one next to me, the chinese kid there smiled with camaraderie created by avoiding the storm.

as i finished my meal, my table was fully wet, my shirt was damp on the back and there was no more room to squeeze in. the rain was still pouring, thunder was in in the distance and i needed to make the decision on waiting it out or walking in the pouring rain. the thought of that umbrella in the back seat made me smile. the fact that the rain had taken out the satellite service for the liverpool game that was just about to start, helped the decision. if there was football on the projection screens i would have stayed, without it time to go. no use running, i was fully wet as soon as i moved from the covered table.

in the car, soaked to the bone, thinking i had not been out in rain like this since the bali christmas monsoon. i was just glad i had leather seats. if not, my car would smell like a wet dog for the next few days.

back home i realized how nice it is to be in the topics. the floors never have rugs to worry about getting wet, the windows can be open with cool breeze blowing in even during the worst of storms and once you hang your clothes up you are warm and dry in minutes.

even torrential rain storms and flooded streets don’t stop malaysia from huddling together under a roof and enjoying cheap, easy, simple meals with smiles. getting soaked doesn’t stop an american from understanding that this is one of the best things about being here.

even better if you learn to enjoy the rain as much as the soup.