jao jenna

Here's to Mumbai

2008-12-01T07:24:00.000-08:00

I can’t stop thinking about Mumbai.

Last summer, Roopa, a close friend who lives in Mumbai, and I had lunch at the Taj Mahal Hotel. We sat in the lovely hotel restaurant and ate an expensive lunch, enjoying ourselves and the serene environment. I remember it being so quiet, in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of Mumbai’s unbelievably loud and crowded streets.

Having been there, I just can’t imagine what it was like during last week’s attacks. It feels like a scene from a movie, totally unreal.

Then I got an email from Roopa. She made it real.

It reminded me of September 11th in New York. That fateful Tuesday, I could not believe it was real. Even though I watched the towers fall from my rooftop, it still felt like slow-motion cinema. If I looked away, it would be okay.

Then I went to the disaster center to help. There, the reality of thousands of tragedies rained down on me. For two and a half years. But time passed, the skies cleared and I realized that New York would be okay. And she was.

As I walked the city streets this morning, I thought of Mumbai and New York and all the other cities that have recently experienced terrorist attacks. These unspeakable acts of violence are intended to destroy but these communities survive. They are resilient. People pick themselves up, put their cities back together and keep on living. Individually and collectively, they recover.

Here’s to Roopa, Cubas, Nishant and all the other Mumbaikers who survived – and who keep on living.

Hunger

2008-11-26T07:27:00.000-08:00

When was the last time you were hungry? I mean, starving. So hungry that the searing stomach pains incapacitated you, preventing you from doing anything. So starving that those pains passed and you started to feel numb.

The last time I felt this hungry was in Zimbabwe. I volunteered with an environmental NGO for three weeks during the summer of 2006. We were working to protect the natural resources around Victoria Falls. Squished in tents, twenty of us slept next to hippos and cooked our meals together over an open fire. I was the only American. As it was a Zimbabwean organization, there was very limited funding for food. We were able to buy fruits, vegetables and a little meat every now and then but we mostly subsisted on mealie meal, which is like tasteless cream of wheat with a slightly drier consistency. Ugh. Unfortunately, I could never adjust to stuffing myself with the heavy starches to keep full. Combined with the long days of manual labor in the parks, the lack of food meant that I sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, doubled over in stomach pain. I was just so hungry. And once the hunger pains set in, it is all you can think about. They were very long nights.

It was an incredibly sad experience to be in Zimbabwe then – but that time could be considered the good old days now. Iinflation was only at two thousand percent and the grocery store shelves were scantily clad, but not totally bare. Now the country is an absolute mess. Forget about the actual inflation percentage. Just listen to the story of Katy, a starving 70 year old woman who is scavenging for corn kernels in a field. She has not eaten in three days. Meanwhile children pick through cow dung for seeds or dig around in the dirt for termites. Check out the whole story in an amazing piece from NPR yesterday (click here).

This story of hunger stopped me in my tracks yesterday. Though the villain is Robert Mugabe, the current president-dictator who taken his country on a hellish journey from independence to insolvency, I don’t want to get political. As I heard 10 year old Rebecca talk about eating termites for dinner, I just kept thinking about Thanksgiving and all the food I will eat tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. I realized how fortunate I am to never be hungry, unless I put myself in that position on one of my crazy overseas adventures.

So I made an impulse donation. You know, like impulse shopping where you buy something without fully thinking about it. I got online and checked out local non-profits that serve the hungy. I donated to two highly-rated DC area programs. My money won’t solve the problem. It won’t help Katy or Rebecca or anyone else in Zimbabwe. But it made me feel slightly better. And I hope that it means that at least one child in my community will have one less sleepless night because of hunger.

Day Jobs

2008-11-20T14:46:00.000-08:00

Have you ever raked leaves in a swirling wind storm? Me neither. It sounds miserable. This occupied my thoughts while walking to work yesterday. It was an unusually cold and windy day here in DC and I was intrigued by a woman who was working outside one of the embassies near Dupont Circle. She was valiantly sweeping the sidewalks but seemed to be losing the war with the evil gusts. Everytime she moved a leaf into a pile, another was lifted and dispersed.

I became frustrated watching her. It reminded me of the women in India who would sweep the streets. Bent over awkwardly, they steadily pushed around their half-sized, homemade brooms. Even after hours of this, the dirt never seemed to go anywhere and the streets no cleaner. I saw this practice all over India, even on dirt roads. To me, it represented utter futility.

Throughout the day, I found myself wondering what it was like to be one of these women. I struggled to imagine how I would deal with that type of job. It would make me crazy. I felt grateful for mine. Yet, as I left the non-descript office building where I had spent all day inside, dressed in business casual, sitting in a cube, typing away on a computer – I wondered if anyone was observing me and thinking that I was the crazy one. That my job would frustrate them and make them nuts. They would hate being cooped up inside and dealing with office issues, whether bureaucracy or a broken computer. Which begs the question - is it more exciting to battle the wind and dust or powerpoint and email?

Finders Keepers, Givers Weepers

2008-11-18T19:53:00.000-08:00

I recently found a five dollar bill outside of my apartment. Instinctively, I picked it up. It was only after I got inside that I realized that I had no idea what to do with it. Should I try to locate the owner? No, it was a small denomination and I found it in a public place. It would be almost impossible to get it back to its original owner.

So what should I do with it? I placed the crumpled character on my table because it felt uncomfortable to put it in my wallet. Somehow that would mean that it was mine. And though I wanted it, I did not need it.

After a night’s rest, I decided to give the five dollar bill away. I imagined the possibilities. Maybe I would be generous with a tip for my coffee guy. Or I could leave it in a conspicuous location where someone else would pick it up. If they needed it, they would use it. If not, maybe they too would pass it on.

Stuffing the bill in an outside pocket of my bag (not in my wallet!), I headed to work. Sure enough, I encountered a homeless woman in a wheelchair asking for money outside my metro station. With an awkward aha! moment, I yanked the bill out and gave it to her. All I remember was her face. It was an unforgettable look of simple, grateful surprise.

Which made me even more uncomfortable. Was she surprised because people rarely offer her more than a dollar? Was she grateful because she could use the money to meet her basic needs? Of course, I imagined her using it to buy fruits and vegetables rather than booze or drugs. Or was this simply the look that she gives anyone that donates?

I don’t know. All I know is that this incident has me thinking about homelessness. I have a graduate education, I spent six years working in social services and I have traveled around the world. Yet I can’t figure out what the right thing to do is. You can argue that they are adults who make choices. But I can’t imagine sitting out there in the freezing cold, begging for your survival. I want to be empathetic. Still, I usually end up looking the other way, unless I have someone else’s five dollars to give.

Somehow this whole incident left me more conflicted than when I started. So please watch your money. I really don’t want to come across another orphaned bill. Finding a foster home for it is way too emotional.

Low Annual Fee

2008-11-15T06:39:00.000-08:00

I recently signed up for a Southwest Airlines credit card. I fell for the sweet advertisement in the in-flight magazine. What can I say – I was a captive audience for three hours on a flight from Austin to Baltimore. To be fair, I also really enjoyed my flight and wanted to build up miles on Southwest so I would fly it more. The best part was the flight attendant, who got on the loud speaker and sang a little ditty when we arrived late. It was silly, irreverent and the most human response to a flight delay that I have experienced.

This all changed when I got the credit card a week ago and was totally stunned by a $60 annual fee.

I found the original in-flight advertisement and re-read it. Yes, it did indicate that there was a low annual fee. But they never mentioned exactly how much it was. How can you sell a product without telling someone the price? Instead, we are expected to guess at the definition of a low fee. Call me old-fashioned (or naïve) but I do not believe that $60 is a low fee.

Most of this is my fault. I should have been more skeptical. Still, I was depressed by Southwest’s response to my complaints. They blamed it all on Chase Bank (the card sponsor), explaining that they did not control Chase’s language in their advertisements. But my guess is that Southwest receives a pretty penny for that advertisement (which features the Southwest logo as prominently as the Chase one). They also probably get something out of the credit card deal with Chase.

I don’t know why this makes me so sad and angry. Coming off two years of business school, I should be familiar with this stuff. I blame the singing flight attendant. I was so touched by her actions that I started to care. I just can’t believe that she would be okay with this.

Local News

2008-11-14T07:43:00.000-08:00

My parents have lived in the same house in the same town for more than 30 years. They have subscribed to our local newspaper during this entire time. You could say that they are loyal customers. But they are even more loyal Democrats. I think that they would only vote for a Republican if their children’s lives depended on it. Thus, they were beside themselves when their local paper, which has represented a progressive community for hundreds of years, endorsed John McCain.

I asked my mom whether they would cancel their subscription. She looked at me as though I had horns. Or worse, I had turned into a Republican. She said that they needed to know what was going on in their community. I tried to make an analogy: imagine the publisher of the newspaper pushing cigarettes on ten year olds but too no avail. They felt that strongly about staying connected to their community.

They also love the short paper format. The big city papers with their 30 plus page count are tough to get through in any reasonable amount of time in the morning. You have to get up at 5 am to get through everything. They truly appreciate the short, succinct and clear format.

In a world where we can access billions, if not trilllions of free stories, images and other multimedia on the internet in seconds, many people still find meaning in their local papers. And in simplicity. I am not a diehard supporter of the newspaper industry. I do think that it is a dying business. But humans need to be connected to those around them in a simple, essential way. They will find a way, even if it means sacrificing their political ideals.

A Summer of Lessons Learned

2007-09-03T20:28:00.000-07:00

Wow, what a summer. I have learned so much. But blogs demand brevity so I will distill my summer experience into the 5 most important lessons that I have learned.

1) Business is NOT all bad.

Of course, I am being a bit facetious. But I did learn that business (big, medium and small) plays an important role in international economic development. Markets play a key role for the rich as well as the poor; in fact, the poor need effective, accountable businesses so they can get the goods and services they need at the least expensive prices. Markets also tend to be more transparent than the informal systems that are devised without them. Most importantly, markets enable people to make choices, even if they seem like limited options to outsiders. People can choose how they want to sustain themselves, where they want to live and what they want to purchase. A few years ago, no one would imagine that this fisherman would want a cell phone...but he did and now he has one.

At the same time, business cannot do it alone. While pure capitalists may disagree, I believe that we need a balance of government, business and non-profits for a healthy society. Government should not run businesses but it should regulate and protect public goods, ensure a safety net and provide systems for basic services. It should also make businesses play fair. And non-profits play a key third role, pushing government and businesses to be more effective and equitable as well as providing services for those who are ignored or forgotten by everyone else. If it were so easy (and profitable) to serve the rural poor in the developing world, businesses would be doing it a lot more!

2) Leaders should listen more, talk less.

I realized time and time again this summer that I know nothing. Well, not exactly nothing but I have a lot to learn. Though I was frustrated at times, I was reminded how much you can learn by listening. By asking questions rather than relying on assumptions, you get a better understanding of an issue or dilemma. You are then better prepared to work with others to collaborately devise an innovative solution rather than get caught up on ineffective approaches.

My village visits made me realize that you have to be a great listener in order to be a great leader. I learned as much from the pioneering Drishtee women entrepreneurs as I have from any business school case study. Working in the field reminded me that organizations rely on the strengths of all their members so leaders need to get the best out of everyone around them. To do that, you have to get people to trust you. Especially when you are in an unfamiliar environment, whether it is a slum, rural village or a new office! And I found the best way to get people to trust me was to listen.

3) Think Globally, Act Globally.

We live in a global society. No community or country can act as a island (even if the country is an island!). Between trade, immigration and diplomatic relations, we are all connected. Even though we are sometimes divided by ethnic, cultural, social and/or political differences, I do believe that we can create a better world for the next generation by working together rather than against each other. Whether you are Italian or Indian (like the woman and children in this photo), you can find common ground.

In my experience in India, I have been impressed by the power of international free trade to encourage widespread economic growth and development. I have seen the positive upside of outsourcing and globalization. While I recognize that fair play is necessary to ensure the success of trade, I have seen firsthand the beneficial impact it can have on the poor.

At the same time, globalization can also cause harm. If you are a villager who migrates to a megacity for better opportunities only to be murdered by a slum gangster, then free trade has failed you. Or, if you are a Westerner who loses his or her job and cannot support yourself and your family, then you have been hurt by globalization. Which means that we need to build systems and safety nets to establish stronger societies and support those harmed by globalization.

4) Equal Rights are Empowering.

Women can play a critical role in economic development. However, we have to ensure that they are part of the process. This requires significant investment and energy in the short-run because women are not as experienced or educated as their male counterparts, especially in less advantaged populations. Organizations have to take a risk on these women to help them succeed in business. Drishtee has done a fantastic job involving women as entrepreneurs and I believe it will pay off for the organization in the long run. To increase female participation in the formal market economy, however, we also have to address the existing gender-related barriers. Laws are needed to protect equal rights and criminalize discrimination and domestic violence. Like this girl and boy, all children must have equitable education opportunities and child care issues must be considered.

5) You Gotta Have Hope.

I read an article this summer about a global survey that asked people what they thought about the future. I can’t remember the exact numbers but people in India, China and other developing countries were much more hopeful about the future than their counterparts in the West. There are multiple explanations for these findings but I will take them with a grain of salt and note that I admire any culture that is so optimistic about the future. Just like I admire the Drishtee entrepreneur who is the mother of this little girl because she is excited that her daughter will have more opportunities than her. In India, the majority of people seem to believe that it is getting better all the time. How great would it be if this were also true in the United States? What would it take to get us there?

Thanks

2007-08-24T20:14:00.000-07:00

As I wrap up my time in India, I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who made my summer an unbelievable experience. First, I want to thank Satyan, Nitin, Shilesh, Swapna and Siddhartha – the Dristhee leadership team who made my internship possible. I also wanted to thank Andrew, Nirdesh, Ann, John, David, Raj, Kavita, Radhika, Pankaj, Ajai, Arnab, Amit, Mamaji, Dr. Hamilton, Ajay, Sony, Rajiv and everyone else at Drishtee. I also wanted to appreciate all of the Drishtee entrepreneurs and their communities for welcoming me, serving me endless cups of chai and helping me understand the challenges of living in rural India. Along with them, I am grateful to all of the Indians who shared their food, homes and stories with me.

Most importantly, thanks go out to my Stanford Business School classmates. Almost all of my classmates donated some of their hard-earned summer earnings so that I could come to India. Through our Summer Management Internship Fund (SMIF), business students contribute their own money to support classmates who are working for non-profit organizations, government or social businesses like Drishtee. Without them, I would probably be working on Wall Street. Well, maybe not, but I certainly would not have had such an incredible opportunity! Special thanks to Liz, Julie and John and the rest of the SMIF leadership. And, as for the rest of the GSB, I can’t wait to get back and share what I have learned. I will never tire of talking of India…so you will have to let me know when you want to switch topics.

Unintended Consequences of a Call Center

2007-08-21T20:07:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the terrible traffic in Mumbai, I spent a lot of time with Iqbal, the driver for my friend. Originally from Pune, Iqbal is a Muslim who was born and raised in India. Though he has worked overseas, including a stint in the Middle East, he loves India and does not want to live anywhere else.

Iqbal told me all about the Muslim community in Mumbai. He was incredibly open and we discussed veils and women’s rights as well as fundamentalism and terrorism. Proud of his religion but concerned about the extremists, Ikbal represented the modern Muslim Indian.

Still, I was most amazed with the story of Iqbal’s son, who works in a call center nearby. Though Iqbal has struggled financially throughout his life, he is comforted by the fact that his son has many more opportunities. His son speaks English fluently and has secured a high-paying position. Ikbal says that this job has changed his son’s life; he is committed to working hard to achieve success and is hopeful for the future. In addition, he has a Christian girlfriend whom he met at work. When I asked Iqbal if he was okay with his son’s girlfriend, he said that things had been different for his generation but his son helped him realize that they were happy. Which made Iqbal happy.

Of course, Iqbal and I both know that the call center job itself does not create this happiness in and of itself. Still, these jobs can have a positive impact on employees. They are paid well relative to the national average, receive excellent training and are likely to move up within their organizations if they work hard. They are also exposed to the broader world and are more invested in the future. In addition, young folks like Iqbal’s son are less likely to be influenced by extremism than disenfranchised Muslim youth who live in crowded, under-resourced slum communities where the offer of fundamentalism seems more enticing.

I am not naïve enough to believe that call centers can save the world. Still, Iqbal’s son provides a compelling portrait of the upside of globalization. Please remember him the next time you get frustrated with customer service. Don’t be mean to the representative, just insist on speaking to a supervisor!

Maximum City

2007-08-18T19:46:00.000-07:00

I visited a friend in Mumbai, the largest city in India. Mumbai, which was known as Bombay in a former life, is a megalopolis with 13 million people in the city and another 7 million in the suburbs. It is huge. Unlike Delhi which reminds me of Washington, D.C., Mumbai feels like a mix of New York City, Los Angeles and Miami as it is a bustling, humid, glamorous city by the sea.

Mumbai is the home of Bollywood, the stock exchange and the slums that are second only to Kolkata (Calcutta). It epitomizes the extreme contrasts between the haves and have-nots in modern India. Underneath the billboards that pay homage to the glitzy lifestyle of the uber-rich, there are endless miles of homes of corrugated tin and cardboard. The fancy sportscars line up in front of the nightclubs while small children sleep on the street a few feet away. The only equalizer is the traffic which ensnarls everyone, regardless of wealth or privilege. It is bumper-to-bumper, a mish-mash of bicycles, buses, trucks, rickshaws and cars that moves along at snail’s pace.

Through a connection from a Stanford classmate, I visited a school for disabled children and community programs in the slums. Once again, I realized how doubly difficult it is to be poor and disabled, physically or emotionally. Still, I was impressed by the competence and compassion of the school’s staff who insist that these children are treated with dignity and, ultimately, empowered to live a normal life.

I also met with a group of mothers from the slums. These women are part of a self-sustaining help group. With sewing machines, they produce goods such as tablecloths and handcrafts. As they work, they discuss the challenges they face as well as support each other.

I introduced myself to the group and explained my background. When I mentioned my work combating domestic violence, one woman raised her hand. She was a composed woman in her early twenties who was 7 months pregnant. She explained that her husband had died six months ago. He was killed by a train on the tracks near the slums. She was unsure whether it was an accident or murder. Such a death is not uncommon among Mumbai’s poor; accidents occur because tracks are often crossed or used as bathrooms. More tragically, the tracks are sometimes used as killing grounds (railroad deaths are difficult for the police to track, if they are interested in investigating at all).

On top of grieving, this woman had to deal with an abusive family. In accordance with tradition, she had moved in with her husband’s family after she got married. Since her husband’s death, her in-laws had been harassing her because they wanted to claim the small amount of compensation that the railroads provide for anyone who dies on the tracks. She was afraid for her life, especially after she gave birth. Her greatest fear was that she would have a male child and her in-laws would take the boy and kill her. With a male heir, there was no need for her.

As the group discussed her alternatives, I realized how few options this woman had. She desparately needed the compensation money but she also had to escape. She cannot go home as her family will not accept her. And there are no shelters. She could call the police but they are unlikely to respond. Instead, she will have to work with the group to establish an informal method of protection where she will rely on friends and neighbors to intervene if the abuse escalates. And she will just hope for a girl.

I felt incredibly humbled and saddened. I also learned that there is an entire informal system that operates in lieu of the formal structures in the slums. From basic services to courts and childcare, these slum communities function in parallel to the official world. Government-issued property deeds may not exist but there is a network of slum landlords who “own” all the property and collect rent every month. There are informal police (thugs) who ensure “safety and security” for a certain price. The moneylenders and merchants offer products, most of which are as expensive (or more) as those you find outside of the slums. Yet again, location is everything. In fact, some research indicates that it may be costlier in relative terms to live in the slums. People spend more of their incomes on basic services and goods because they have such limited options.

But the craziest thing is that almost all of these residents or their families left their villages because they believed that the city would provide a better life for them and their children. Everyone that I met still thought this, even with the difficulties they encounter every day. Talk about tough choices.

[Post-script: I will email the community program staff to find out what has happened with the woman I met and will update the blog if I find out more.]

Mom-trepreneur

2007-08-10T00:31:00.000-07:00

How do you translate “work-life balance” into Hindi?

In my field visits, I met with several woman entrepreneurs who were also moms. I was especially impressed by the women who were running a thriving computer education business and handling little ones at home. And remember too, that the workweek here is Monday-Saturday.

When I asked how they manage it all, most smiled graciously and acted as though it was no problem. Probing deeper, I have figured out certain keys to their success:

The Home Office
Most of these moms run kiosks that are adjacent to their homes. They can move easily between the office and the home, enabling them to bounce back and forth between checking accounts, chopping vegetables and changing diapers. Not only does this reduce the barriers for women to become entrepreneurs but they tend to run more stable businesses because they are less likely to move or change jobs. The switching costs are just too high.

Childcare
As I have experienced in my homestays, it is all in the family. Or, at least, all of the family is in one place. Most homes include extended families, with parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. It is based around the patriarchal unit; women typically move in with their husband’s extended family after marriage. Though it can be hectic at times, all those grandparents, uncles and aunts means that there is always someone to watch over the little ones. What is especially cool is that the kids have closer relationships with their extended relatives.

Role of Operating Partner
With woman entrepreneurs, especially those with limited experience, Drishtee often works closely with the primary male figure in her life. We call the husband, father or brother the “operating partner” and we truly seek to treat the two as partners. We want to build on the strengths and experiences of the operating partners while empowering the woman entrepreneurs to develop their own skills.

This practice also helps us get more buy-in in rural India where individuals are less likely to support a woman working on her own. Though I have had my own reservations about power imbalances between partners, this system seems to work well, in part because it uses the family unit as the foundation for the business.

It may not work everywhere but the mom-trepreneur model provides for a great balance between work and family life in rural India.

Laughing Yoga, Seriously

2007-08-08T02:30:00.000-07:00

How many times have you laughed today? Yesterday? If you are like most adults, you probably are not laughing as much as you should. When we are little kids, we can’t stop laughing. But then we grow up and get serious.

It turns out that we should get serious about laughing. I spent Sunday night at a 10th anniversary celebration dinner for my community’s Laughing Club. That’s right, 10 years of laughs, chuckles and guffaws, all without the aid of jokes!

My landlord, Uncle, with an honorary hat

I was invited by my landlord and neighbor, a fabulous fellow whom I know as Uncle. Even though they are retired and could sleep as late as they wanted, he and his wife are up at 5:15 every morning for their walk and yoga. After a stroll in the park, they meet and practice their laughing.

In addition to songs, dances and presentations on the health benefits of laughing, I watching this synchronized laughing in action at the celebration dinner. Imagine a stage full of people, most of whom are older, wearing colorful hats. All is silent. Then a whistle blows and the group erupts in coordinated hee-hee-hee’s or hah-hah-haw’s. It was unlike anything I ever seen. And it was contagious. My friends and I were laughing so hard we were in tears.

I cannot vouch for the medical benefits of laughing. But I do know that it was really fun.

Ann, Auntie, Josh and two other Laughing Club ladies

The Gift of School

2007-08-06T02:00:00.000-07:00

The best gift I have ever received in my life is education. Which makes me so sad when I see so many kids who are being denied this here. Like this little guy.

With education, it is a Tale of Two Indias. It has the best of schools, it has the worst of schools. Some of the finest engineering, computer programming and business schools are here. Literacy rates in certain areas are unbelievably high, especially when compared to per-capita income. At the same time, there are many rural and slum children who are not in school. At the government schools, the facilities and resources are deplorable. And the teachers, well, they don’t even show up for school that often.

In spite of this, Indians are fiercely interested in education. There is an amazing array of educational opportunities from private schools to supplemental classes to tutoring programs. The newspapers are chock full of education advertisements. And people are willing to spend a significant portion of their earnings on education, rather than on material goods.

This is especially true if the education pertains to technology. Technology has helped spur India's phenomenal growth recently and everyone wants a piece of the action. Computers and cell phones are spreading to the most remote parts and now everyone wants to learn how to use them.

Dads and Daughters

2007-08-05T21:13:00.000-07:00

My dad has is a little techno-phobic. He actually calls his computer an email-machine. So he has gotten a kick out of this blog, even if he is not really sure how it works. He just loves the fact that his daughter is slightly more technically adept than him!

It turns out that some dads in India feel the same way about their daughters. A few of the amazing students I met last week were the daughters of rural farmers. Even though their fathers have never even used computers, they convinced them to spend at least a month’s earnings on tuition for a computer education class. They helped their dads understand that learning computer skills would be critical for their future. Pretty impressive.

These acts of persuasion are an especially remarkable in India where investments in girls’ education are often perceived to be a waste. Most women will get married and move to their husband’s village so the family never fully captures the value of their daughter’s education.

These girls were all so shy when I met them. After finishing my questions, I always encouraged them to ask questions of me. Most were too intimidated to say anything. Little did they know that I was as awe-inspired by their courage and will to learn as they were with me.

A Forgotten Passport, A New Family

2007-08-04T21:03:00.000-07:00

Forgetting my passport on last week’s trip was one of the best things that happened to me. I was supposed to stay in a hotel in the nearby city, Kanpur. However, I did not realize that I needed a passport and I had left mine in Delhi. Luckily, one of the District staff offered up his home.

I stayed with Amit and his extended family at their home. They were not expecting me but they were the most generous hosts. In fact, I became a part of the family. Not only did they provide a bed but Amit’s mother fed me delicious food and endless cups of ginger chai. Amit’s uncle, Babaji, let me watch as he completed his Hindu worship ceremonies, complete with drums and bells, each morning. I chatted with Amit’s father and hung out with Amit’s wife and cousins. And Amit’s beautiful daughter kept me smiling throughout it all.

The best time was Friday night when we all sat around in the living room, looking at pictures, talking about life, families, India and America. At some random point, I looked around the room and realized why I do the work I do: I believe in people. Just when everything feels impossible, I meet people who are so good that they give me hope for our entire society.

A special thanks to Ajay, Rajiv, Amit and his family for taking care of me.

Business in the Boondocks

2007-08-03T20:38:00.000-07:00

If you check out the class offerings of Stanford, Harvard or Wharton Business Schools, you will not find any classes on Rural Marketing or Business. Which is unfortunate, especially considering half the globe lives in a rural environment.

As I have learned this summer, the rural sector presents a complex set of challenges for business. From management and organizational structure to marketing and operations, you have to do things differently. You cannot just rely on size and speed. There is nothing speedy about spending two hours on the back of a scooter, traveling less than 20 kilometers, just to get to the office. Especially in monsoon season. Check out the main road to town here:

You cannot just hire a bunch of a great people and throw them together on a project. Having spent 27 hours on a train, I now understand why company retreats do not occur here. And, as demonstrated by this picture of the electricity “infrastructure” at one of our kiosks, there is a total lack of basic resources:

So you have to be innovative and resourceful. You have to overcome geographical obstacles, limited resources, lack of human capital and lack of experience. And you have to be credible. In most villages, there is usually a history of exploitation that leads itself to mistrust of businesses.

That said, if you can do it, you can have a big impact, both in terms of profit and development. So, where do you start? You begin with the same premise that design theory, social work and business all share: know your customers or clients and meet them where they are at. If you do not understand the daily life of the rural Indian, you cannot sell to him, support him or empower him.

Drishtee understands this. Management consistently emphasizes that the magic happens in the field. At the top, we need to create a self-sustaining structure that, with the right mix of people, products and support, can run itself. The structure has to be sound enough to enable success for less-qualified (but hard-working) individuals while being flexible enough to allow the high-performers to soar. Sounds simple, right?

Of course, it is not. But we are trying, along with a few other intrepid organizations. In fact, India is ahead of the curve when it comes to rural marketing and business. There is an entire business school dedicated to this field. However, someone told me that the students cannot afford to work in rural areas after they graduate because of the debts they have to pay off! Add yet another obstacle to the list.

Off Again

2007-07-31T07:17:00.001-07:00

I apologize for the recent lack of posts. Work has gotten the best of me for the last few days. That, and a game of frisbee in monsoon rain, a birthday bash for a one-month old baby girl and a morning spent watching "ear cleaner" entrepreneurs on the street in Old Delhi. Yes, there are men who make a living cleaning out other people's ears on the street.

I am headed off to villages in Uttar Pradesh tomorrow. I will be away for a few days but there will be plenty of posts when I return. As I am immersing myself in my summer project, I will write about education in rural India. Here are a few photos to get you thinking on the topic.

(Class size? Desks? Resources?)

(Slightly more labor intensive than a water fountain)

(It is the middle of the morning and none of these guys are in school...)

Would You Like Some?

2007-07-28T07:12:00.000-07:00

When was the last time that you offered some of your food to the person sitting next to you on the airplane? Or invited a complete stranger in for tea or coffee?

Since coming to India, I have yet to sit next to someone on a bus, train or plane who has not offered me some of their food. While I did decline the strange cheese sandwich soaked in ketchup, I appreciated the gesture. At the office, the women I eat with share all their home-cooked food with each other and me. And in shops, villages and homes across India, I have sipped free chai, simply in exchange for conversation.

The greatest irony is that we super-size everything in America but we rarely share with strangers. In fact, I do not even know how I would respond to such food offerings if I were in the States. Just remembering all the Halloween horror stories of razor blades in apples makes me never want to accept “unwrapped” food! But what a loss that would be here.

Thanks for Leaving Me with 14 Kids

2007-07-25T02:23:00.000-07:00

Forget about Clark Gable or Amitabh Bachchan (the most famoust Bollywood star). The original romantic was Shah Jahan, the Mughal ruler who built the Taj Mahal. He was madly in love with his second wife, Mumtaz. Not only beautiful, she was a busy woman. She bore him 14 children. Wow.

Tragically, however, she died while giving birth to number 15. Shah was so distraught that he constructed the Taj in her honor. It is the most gorgeous grave I have ever seen. Though a hulking piece of marble, it has an elegant, almost ethereal presence in person. The detail is also exquisite, from the tiny gemstone flowers inlaid in marble to the detailed calligraphy on the walls. And, with its perfect symmetry, the Taj is simply breathtaking. My photos fail to do it justice.

With a group of other Stanford students, I watched the sun set over the mighty Taj this weekend. But the best part was inside. You cannot wear shoes so you walk in on this soft, warmed marble. You enter this dark octagonal chamber where wisps of light lie gently on the two graves of Mumtaz and Shah. So perfectly serene, it feels holy.

Of course, then you remember that they had 14 kids. So their lives were never serene. They say that Shah’s hair went gray because of Mumtaz’s death. Or maybe he was just freaked out about raising all those kids!

(Shah Jahan, before his hair went gray. Unfortunately, Mumtaz's death was only the start of his troubles. His own son would later imprison him for life. Just your typical dysfunctional ruling family.)

Young at Heart

2007-07-23T23:03:00.000-07:00

You are never too old to make a difference. This is what I learned from Mamaji and Dr. Hamilton.

These two men are wise in their years, but young at heart. While their peers have long since retired, they are still working actively to help rural villagers in India.

Mamaji (Hindi name for mother’s brother) is the uncle of Drishtee’s founder, Satyan Mishra. So he is Mamaji to everyone. He was our host for the week in Bihar. In addition to keeping me fed and sheltered, he entertained me with his stories. And his deep, full body laugh is infectious.

One day, Mamaji and I took a walk through his village. It was raining slightly so we strolled along under umbrellas. We talked about the challenges faced by villagers, especially the lack of opportunities for education and employment. We discussed the lasting impact of the caste system and gender inequalities. Even though he was raised in a very different culture, Mamaji never treated me differently.

(Local High School)

Mamaji has the ability to speak volumes with just a few words. When I asked for his opinions on government, he pointed to the gaping potholes in the roads, showed me a dilapidated building that was supposed to be a high school and asked, “Is this government working?”

Dr. Hamilton is Mamaji’s foil. He is the primary doctor on the Drishtee healthcare project. Though he has a home in Delhi, he has decamped to Bihar to get this project off the ground. He has spent his entire career in the rural health sector, helping villagers who did not have access to appropriate care.

(Dr. Hamilton at work with a patient, John in the background)

With Dr. Hamilton, I was most impressed with his resilience. I wondered how he could spend his entire life fighting such an uphill battle. Wouldn’t it have been easier to stay in Delhi and open a private practice? But he chooses to do this work because it is what inspires him and he can have an impact.

Together, Mamaji and Dr. Hamilton are a dynamic duo. They can talk, laugh or argue until the wee hours of the morning. I could barely keep up!

Thank you to Mamaji and Dr. Hamilton for reminding me that you can make the most out of every stage in your life.

Mad for Mangos

2007-07-22T01:40:00.000-07:00

This fellow was one of my favorite patients. He is an elderly individual seeking treatment for a variety of conditions, including diabetes (which is a growing problem in India). While he wants to take care of himself, he also admitted that he eats mangos every once a while. When the doctor reminded him that this was a no-no, he explained that he already knows the date he will die and he wants to enjoy the rest of his time. Which means eating mangos.

I see his point. Though I do not mean to trivialize his diabetes, the mangos here taste extraordinary. Not worth dying for, but pretty darn close.

Mobile Healthcare

2007-07-21T05:59:00.000-07:00

It is not a fast moving ambulance. But it gets the job done.

In Bihar, Drishtee is piloting a project to bring proper healthcare to villages through a for-profit model. Using the ambulance as the roving office, we set up camps in different villages every day of the week. Under a plastic canopy, the doctor sees patients, completes basic tests (e.g. blood pressure) and writes prescriptions. The villagers pay about a dollar for immediate care.

Although Drishtee costs more than free government health care, villagers are wiling to pay to avoid traveling far and losing a day of work. There are also quality concerns at the government facilities; villagers may also have to wait or may not actually see a doctor. In fact, many folks end up using the local chemist (pharmacy) as their primary care physician. This often results in inaccurate diagnoses and inappropriate prescriptions.

There are challenges to this model. First, we have to continue to educate the customers about the importance of health care and encourage them to be proactive. Often, people wait until their condition becomes so insufferable that they need extreme (and expensive) treatment.

Second, there are financial constraints. A patient may be able to afford the consultation but the prescription drugs are too expensive. We are trying to collaborate with local chemists but there are real trade-offs involved. Finally, there is an urgent need for health insurance. Ultimately, health is unpredictable and communities are better off if we can pool risk to protect individuals. But this requires convincing people who have very little money to spend it on an intangible product that does not feed or shelter them. Drishtee is also working on this but it is an uphill battle.

Outsourcing, Village-Style

2007-07-19T05:21:00.000-07:00

Most of the outsourcing in India takes place in and around cities. It is a huge industry, bringing in lots of revenue and aiding in the development of a class of higher-skilled workers. At the same time, it also increases the divide between wealthy urban and impoverished rural India.

But Drishtee is doing something about it. This week, I went on an unusual business trip to Bihar, the poorest state in India. After a grueling 26-hour overnight train ride and 2-hour bumpy car ride, we arrived at our Drishtee outpost in the middle of nowhere. Amidst mud roads and reed huts was a one-story concrete building with 20 intact computer workstations. Through a unique bio-generator and VSAT satellite technology, there is power and wireless Internet (most of the time!). Take a look.

The program is remarkable. Drishtee provides a vocational BPO school. Students in their late teens or early twenties enroll in a three-year program. They receive intensive computer training at the outset and then learn by working. While working, they are also paid for their efforts.

At the moment, the group was working on data-editing. A company in Australia had scanned millions of books onto CDs. They sent the CDs to Drishtee to be checked for minor formatting errors. The BPO staff will go through every page of every book, make changes as necessary and send the CDs back to Australia. They will be paid based on completion and accuracy.

This model is amazing because it creates real economic opportunity in the heart of the rural village. There are limitations – the start-up costs are high (so tuition is higher than most can afford), it is difficult to get resources around here and there are no experienced managers available locally – but it is a great start.

I do not intend to start a debate on outsourcing on this blog. I will say, however, that this outsourcing project has the potential to truly change lives in this village. Young people can work, develop skills and bring in outside capital – all of which is likely to raise the standards of living for the community.

Here is a picture of Pankaj, one of my co-workers who is overseeing the project. Recognizing the limited experience of the BPO students, he came in from Delhi to ensure that they are properly trained and prepared to do the work. While aware of the operational challenges, he also recognizes that these students are absolutely committed to doing the best job they can do. Pretty inspirational stuff.

Monsoon Schooling

2007-07-18T05:33:00.000-07:00

I took a great class on design at Stanford last year. I learned that you actually have to observe people to understand why they do what they do. Sounds simple but we do not apply it enough.

This is especially true when it comes to matters that we are less familiar with. Like rural India for me. I had learned that there is lower participation in services during monsoon seasons. People do not go to school or the hospital or the shops as much. Having seen the pictures of the flooded roads, I understood why.

Or so I thought. After spending last week in flooded India, I realize that the problem is not the roads. People are not going anywhere because they are all in the fields. Children, adults, the elderly. Whether wading through rice paddies, plowing with oxen or riding tip-top on a water buffalo, everyone is out there working hard from dawn to dusk. There is no time for school or medical treatment.

Putting aside extreme examples like sweatshops, child labor is no simple problem. In rural India, children are needed in the fields and rice paddies. They hoe, seed, plant and pick. And they manage the water buffalo, riding on their backs, usually carrying umbrellas that shield both sun and rain.

To their credit, many schools have tried to bring children in by offering free lunches. This has been somewhat successful though children often “have” to leave right after lunch. Until education proves to be a sure means through which families can improve their situations, the flooded fields will be flocked with kids.

Friendship 4 Sale

2007-07-16T05:53:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend in Udaipur, the Venice of India. The small city is in the heart of Rajastan, the land of traditions and…moustaches. Yes, the men wear the kind that point up at the end. Means they are strong.

I traveled alone and everyone was incredibly friendly so I met lots of people. One of the more interesting charactrers I met was Mukesh, who was a tour guide at the City Palace, the famous palace of the Mewar rulers. For a few bucks, I received a fabulous personal tour of the palace. Plus, Mukesh and I connected - we chatted about politics, culture and families.

At the end of the tour, Mukesh invited me to meet his wife and daughter. A few hours later, he picked me up on his scooter and we visited his home on the outskirts of town. Sitting like majarajas on their bed, Mukesh, his wife and I chatted, had chai and watched a Bollywood movie. And his five year daughter showed me her schoolbooks and favorite dolls. All was going well until Mukesh mentioned that his wife made jewelry. She pulled out boxes, spread her wares across the bedspread and the hard sell began.

Ultimately, I ended up buying a necklace. But I felt so uncomfortable. And disappointed. Maybe I was being naive, but I thought that I was slightly more than a customer. Perhaps this is unfair of me, especially considering the differences between our situations.

But I refused to let the incident ruin the evening. When Mukesh dropped me off, I told him that I neeeded to talk with him. While recognizing that we are from different cultures, I said that I would have appreciated it if he had let me know that his wife sold jewelry. He listened carefully and responded that he did not mean for me to feel pressured. We talked through the incident and the differences between our cultures. He noted that his wife was a stay-at-home mom who did not sell in the markets, only in their home to her family and friends. And I told him that I was more used to buying things in stores where the transaction was a little less personal.

In the end, I do not know whether Mukesh understood where I was coming from. But I felt so much better after our conversation. When it comes to complications of culture, some things are not better left unsaid.

By the way, if you are ever in Udaipur, please look for Mukesh. He is a local treasure. Also, for all you James Bond fans, check out the photo below. You may recognize this from Octopussy...

(In case you were wondering, I did not stay at this hotel. Very expensive. But I did stay at the Mewar Haveli which I recommend highly!)

POV of Poverty

2007-07-14T09:00:00.000-07:00

All in all, my visits to the villages this week were amazing. I believe that the village-by-village approach to reaching the underserved through local entrepreneurship has tremendous potential. It works in microfinance, it works with cell phones and it works with Drishtee. However, it is unbelievably hard work.

It is not easy to travel to these villages. They are far away from stores, services and information. Access to electricity, water and indoor plumbing is limited, if at all. The schools are simple concrete blocks with kids hanging out the windows. For primary schools, there are no teachers, just babysitters hired by the government. Secondary schools, along with hospitals and other critical services, are kilometers away.

The villages are full of young children, mothers and elderly people. All of the able single men and women have fled to cities for better jobs. Any men who remain are unemployed except for agriculture or spare work. Everyone is at the mercy of the climate and environment.

Everyone lives on less than 2 dollars a day. While it is true that 2 dollars goes a lot further here, that is still only $730 a year. The average summer MBA intern at Stanford makes that much money in 2 days. 2 dollars a day or a year’s income in 2 days. What a contrast.

Several times, I would meet with the entire village after my interview with the Drishtee entrepreneur. Someone would drag out a plastic chair and fifty people would sit around me. With the help of Drishtee staff, I would share that I was a “student from America who studies MBA” and “works with Drishtee in villages across India”. I would also thank everyone for their hospitality and tell them how beautiful India was. I felt like a politician but people seemed genuinely appreciative.

In one instance, an elderly lady raised her hand and respectfully asked me what I could do to help her village. Taken aback, I responded as best I could. I told her that I would share the stories of the struggles they faced with Drishtee and with people I knew in America. She seemed okay with my response but I felt useless and helpless.

Regardless of how many villages or slums I have visited, I find the extreme poverty to be overwhelming each time. At this point in the blog, I should propose an innovative idea that would solve these issues. A breakthrough social business that stimulates economic development. Or a revolutionary model to effectively use aid monies. Or a mechanism to improve governement efficiency and transparency. Instead, I just feel exhausted and out of ideas. All I know is that I was born lucky and I wish that all kids had the same opportunities that I had.

You Go Girl

2007-07-13T08:50:00.000-07:00

Drishtee is testing different models to determine the best way to reach rural villages. The original model is a computer kiosk franchise. Drishtee works with the panchayat, the local self-government, to set up an introductory meeting in the village. They educate everyone about Drishtee. They then identify a self-starter who takes out a loan to purchase a Drishtee license, along with a computer, digital camera and printer. He or she then sets up a kiosk and offers a range of services, ranging from computer education to photography to retail servies (e.g., car batteries, hand-crank lanterns, mobile phone recharge coupons). Drishtee is responsible for distribution and delivers the product to the doorstep of the kiosk.

More recently, Drishtee has piloted a new model that is more like Amway or Avon. Working with the panchayat, they identify a woman in the village who is interested in supplementing her family’s income through sales of products and services out of her home. This is somewhat revolutionary as most of these women have never officially sold anything. With very low barriers to entry, this Drishtee model offers women a unique opportunity to empower themselves and learn valuable skills. Plus, Drishtee believes that these women may end up being more credible, and therefore, more profitable salespeople. Although new, this program has demonstrated success.

Who are these women? Some are married while others are single. Most have had some high school education and many are in their early 20s. Some are older and have children, including young sons and daughters who are eager to help Mom out. Almost none have previous work experience beyond household responsibilities so Drishtee offers training and ongoing support. In addition, Drishtee recognizes the role of the “operating partner” or a leading male in the family such as a husband, father or brother. By officially including the operating partner, Drishtee ensures that women are permitted to participate and encourages collective learning that leverages the partner’s previous experience. At the same time, Drishtee pushes the operating partner to let the entrepreneur take the lead.

One of the more inspirational women I met was the Drishtee entrepreneur pictured above. She was a mother who possesses natural charisma. With her wide smile and support from the District office, she has established a thriving business within a few months.

Meeting her made me realize that the definition of entrepreneur is broader than I initially understood. You do not necessarily need a business plan, powerpoint presentation and millions of dollars in seed capital. Instead, you need a real opportunity, personal initiative, external support and equal parts energy and hope.

Villages, then Venice

2007-07-12T22:57:00.000-07:00

Sorry for not posting more this week. I have been visiting Drishtee entreprenuers in rural villages. I have lots of stories to tell but I am heading off to Udaipur, the Venice of India for the weekend. So you will have to make do with a few pictures...just a snapshot of what is to come...

The District staff, also known as my tour guides and interpretors.

A business meeting, complete with calcuations and chai.

A new Drishtee entrepreneur explaining what services are needed in her village.

Me with a Drishtee entrepreneur and her family.

A young computer student.

Take A Ride

2007-07-09T03:13:00.000-07:00

One of my co-workers feels that this blog has been a bit down on India. So he told me to take a ride…on the Delhi Metro.

It was amazing. In case you haven’t heard, the Delhi Metro is a screaming success story. There is limited service now but there will be more than 270 kilometers of rail connecting the city by the time the project is finished. Not only is the construction on-time and under-budget, but I actually enjoyed my ride on the Yellow Line. The station was clean, the maps were clear and the cars were air-conditioned.

More importantly, the Delhi Metro is being cited as an example of business and government working together to make things happen. And it is inspiring action across the country. The genius behind the metro is a 74-year-old yoga-loving engineer and railways expert, Elattuvalapil Sreedharan, who has demonstrated that he can get it done by ably managing his cash, staff and process. The construction has been environmentally friendly and they are ensuring handicap accessibility. But what is most impressive is that he is doing all this construction under a bustling city! Click here for an interesting article on Elattuvalapil.

Not that there hasn’t been controversy. Some neighborhoods are concerned about having elevated tracks and current ridership numbers are lower than expected. People are still riding those crazy buses! But, overall, the process has been a smooth ride (bad pun intended).

Unlike the harried experiences of scooters, rickshaws and buses, I arrived cool, calm and collected at my destination after my Metro ride. And all for less than 20 cents. Maybe we could convince Elattuvalapil to come to New York to help with the Second Avenue line.

Exploring Old Delhi

2007-07-08T02:38:00.000-07:00

John and I spent a day exploring Old Delhi this weekend. What a contrast from what we have seen so far. We first made our way through the maze of markets, sneaking through spindling rows of stalls, selling everything from light fixtures to spices to prescription drugs. You could spend hours in this labyrinth, trying to absorb the sights and sounds. My favorite players in this symphony of chaos were the chai boys, scurrying about delivering cups of tea.

We then explored Delhi’s Red Fort, a palace and fortress built by Shah Jahan, another Mughal emperor (see photo above). It was a fantastic monument and I realized again how complicated Indian history is. So many people from such different backgrounds, religions and cultures call this place home. A museum within the fort had an exhibit on the struggle for independence; it revealed the story of Nehru, Gandhi and the others who fought courageously to call their country their own.

We headed next to Jama Masjid, Delhi’s famous mosque which can hold more than 25,000 people in its courtyard (see photo above). On the walk, we cut through a “park” which has been transformed into informal housing. It was basically a shanty-town. It was one of the most difficult things I have seen so far in India. I did not take pictures – it was so dirty, poor and depressing that doing so felt exploitative. Everyone was living in absolute filth, including small children forced to entertain themselves by begging, searching for food or throwing rocks at stray puppies. The most shocking thing, though, was an infant sleeping in a bag. Hanging off a railing in a piece of cloth that looked like a plastic bag, a tiny infant was crunched into a ball. When I first looked, I thought the baby was dead and was being thrown away.

As I climbed the steps of the mosque, I wondered how we, as human society, have failed these communities. At the top, I looked out over the city and felt angry at our institutions - governments, businesses, NGOs, churches, schools, hospitals and more - because we have not figured out a way to meet the basic needs of every child born: all deserve food, water, shelter, medical care, safety and love.

A Purple Cow at Drishtee

2007-07-06T02:31:00.000-07:00

Drishtee is a remarkable organization. While the first priority is the village communities that we work with, our founders have also established relationships with powerful business and social leaders across the globe. And these friendships have benefits.

This week, marketing maven Seth Godin visited Drishtee. He is a Stanford Business School grad who has published several business bestsellers including Purple Cow, Permission Marketing and All Marketers are Liars. His most recent book is The Dip. He normally commands thousands of dollars in speaking fees but he is such an avid supporter of Acumen and Drishtee that he came to us.

Seth spent several hours at the head office before heading out to the village kiosks. He recognized Drishtee for its vision, innovation and courage in taking on the challenges of working in rural India. At the same time, he asked tough questions and challenged Drishtee to be extraordinary. To make a difference, we have to be great.

Having Seth here made me realize that people are almost always an organization’s most critical assets. As we develop models that use markets to create social value, we have to enrich the human capital within these organizations, especially if we want them to grow rapidly. It sounds strange but we need to focus more on middle management; as these social businesses grow, lots of less-prominent leaders need to be trained and supported to ensure ultimate success.

For another great article on Drishtee and the Acumen Fund, click here.

Shotguns and Staches

2007-07-05T21:12:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like a double-barreled shotgun to spice up the morning commute. On my walk to work, the man next to me was carrying a rifle. I assume that he is a security guard as they are everywhere in India. At offices, ATMs, restaurants, malls, stores and government offices. The only place I have not seen guards is bathrooms. Funny, as I have found toilet paper to be a rather valuable commodity here.

Like South Africa and other countries I have visited, private security services is big business. Click here to find out more. However, unlike the other countries, guards seem to carry double-barreled shotguns as often as semi-automatic weapons. I can't decide whether this makes me feel more or less safe. However, I am more disconcerted by the protocol of toting the gun around while off-duty. I keep imagining some guy bustling through Times Square on his way to work with a shotgun on his back while all the tourists are freaking out. What a scene.

By the way, the guy in the picture was NOT the security guard I saw this morning. I just liked the photo. This is Kewal Krishnan, another security guard who was famous for his 15.7 inch moustache. His stache may be more intimidating than his shotgun.

Dynamic David and Awesome Acumen

2007-07-04T03:54:00.001-07:00

I am bummed to report that my colleague / boss, David Lehr (pictured above), will be returning to the U.S. soon. David has spent the last 8 months with Drishtee as part of the Acumen Fund Fellows Program, which places individuals with social enterprises all over the globe.

What is Acumen Fund? Acumen is a unique organization in NYC that was founded by Jacqueline Novogratz (also a Stanford Business School grad!). Acumen is a “non-profit venture fund that uses entrepreneurial approaches to solve the problems of global poverty.” Simply put, they want to use business to end poverty. Acumen provides direct investment as well as business support (people like David) to budding social enterprises from Nairobi to Noida. For more on Acumen’s investment in Drishtee, click here.

This business doing good stuff is exciting, especially as I watch it happening here in India. Though I am a bit wary of big business, markets are being used to get good and services to communities that would not otherwise have access. Even the potential for profits makes everyone pay more attention. Like successful businesses, these approaches should be sustainable over time, thereby encouraging long-term economic development within communities. Of course, there are complications, especially because businesses tend to have a lot more power than the poor. Social entrepreneurs are trying to strike the right balance between making a profit and having a positive impact.

In addition to its noble pursuit, Acumen has attracted great people. Consider David’s story. After a few successful years in Silicon Valley, David made a dramatic career switch. Realizing that technology could be used in innovative ways to encourage development, he stepped off the fast track to work in social enterprise and international development. Like the other Acumen Fellows, he has spent the last year helping Drishtee develop its business and increase its impact. For more on David, check out this video interview. As for life after Drishtee, David is still figuring out what he will do next. Whatever happens, he is confident he will remain in this field because he, like me, believes that it has tremendous potential.

Monsoon Season

2007-07-03T04:45:00.000-07:00

Monsoon season is here. After hours of endless sun, the sky has broken and the rains have come. Luckily, we are spared from constant downpour here in Delhi. Instead, there are occasional bursts that drench everyone for fifteen minutes and then subside. Everyone seeks shelter under some form of plastic but, generally, everything gets wet. The positive side is that it all feels a bit cleaner and cooler afterwards.

We have it better than the rest of India. There is extreme flooding in Mumbai, Kolkata and other areas in the South. This picture was taken yesterday in Kolkata. There have been hundreds of deaths and extensive damage. And, for the most part, those who are most affected are least prepared to recover. More on the monsoon to come...

The Ladies Compartment

2007-07-01T03:53:00.000-07:00

No, I was not on this train. But you gotta love this photo. And you may notice that you do not see a lot of women. They are probably sitting in the "Ladies Compartment." Let me explain further.

On Saturday, my new roommate, John and I ventured into Delhi for the day. John is a fellow Drishtee intern and business school student who is equally clueless about India (I mean this in the best way John!). We make a great pair. Anyway, we decide to take one of the buses, which generally barrel through town at ungodly speeds, blasting their horns while people hang precariously out of the sides. No signage indicates where a bus stop is or where a bus is going but we found a crowd waiting on the street. Sure enough, several buses arrived and we found a ride to Delhi. However, the driver started arguing with a group on the street so we promptly piled off the bus and onto another bus. Then someone yelled at us to take another bus. We unloaded and loaded again.

As John and I squished in the back, I began settling in for a warm, cozy ride. Then someone motioned to me to come forward. Climbing over tangled limbs, I made my way to the "Ladies Compartment," a sectioned-off area in the front of the bus. It was quite remarkable. I mean, it was still hot and dirty but there were decorations and, more importantly, seats for all. And the women all smiled at me. It felt much friendlier than the back of the bus.

Apparently, this is not unusual in India. On many buses and trains, there are separate seats or compartments for women. While I enjoyed the ride, I also struggled with the fairness of the situation. Why should John have to stand but I get to sit? Or, more compellingly, why should an older Indian man have to stand while I sit?

As a feminist, I am unsure how I feel about this separation of areas, especially in a society where women are not always considered equal to men. It was too hot and I felt too uncomfortable to protest so I sat in the Ladies Compartment. I also understand that there are safety reasons in certain situations but I felt completely safe in the back of the bus. Ultimately, I was left wondering about this custom - is it chivalry or chauvinism? Or a combination of both?

It's Bollywood, Baby!

2007-06-30T23:09:00.000-07:00

All I gotta say is sway baby, sway. Or jhoom barabar, jhoom. In a stark contrast to my experience in rural India, I spent Friday night immersed in the glamour and glitz of Bollywood! A very patient co-worker took me to my first Bollywood flick at the five-floor cineplex, located, of course, in a mall. Although there were no subtitles, I was able to understand what was going on. Because you do not go to Bollywood movies for the dialogue.

You go for the music, the dancing and the show, baby. Just to give you a sample, click here to watch the dance-off grand finale. Now imagine this on a fullscreen and a million decibels louder. That is Bollywood. Don't be surprised if you find yourself bopping about in your seat. I did. My co-worker couldn't stop laughing at me.

Though the costumes are skimpy and the bodies are gyrating, this is actually a G-rated affair. Nothing more than a kiss occurs onscreen. This is typical. Bollywood may be glitzy and risque but it never strays too far for its generally conservative Indian audience.

From mega-malls to rocking ringtones, I have been amazed how important entertainment is here. I am unsure whether this has always been a part of Indian culture or it is a result of the dramatic growth of the consumer class. Apparently, the media and entertainment market is huge and growing fast, especially as the industry targets the lower income segment. Although these folks may not have a lot of cash, there are so many people in this segment that the rupees add up quickly.

Still, it was strange to walk out of the mall and back into the other India. In Bollywood, there was no trash on the streets, no one sleeping on the side of the road, no extreme poverty. When shown in an air-conditioned theater, a Bollywood movie really is the perfect escape.

Lunchbox Love

2007-06-28T22:24:00.000-07:00

Remember your favorite lunchbox from grade school? Well, here in India, lunchbox love does not stop at grade 5. Everyone brings their hot lunch or "tiffin" in a plastic lunchbox. See below.
At my office, we have tiffins delivered each day. A local family cooks the food, packs the steel tins and sends all the plastic containers over via bicycle. It usually includes two hot vegetable dishes, rice, roti and cucumbers. Although I never know exactly what I am eating, it is quite tasty. Once you finish, you pack the tins in the box and send it back. No paper or plastic waste, save a few napkins.

For a great story about delivering tiffins in Mumbai, check out this story, Grandma Cooks, They Deliver, from the New York Times. Imagine if grandma's home cookin' was delivered hot and fresh to you everyday. Sure beats Subway.

Visiting Kiosks in Panipat

2007-06-27T21:53:00.001-07:00

"Connecting India Village by Village" is the Drishtee slogan and I got to see it for myself yesterday. Along with staff and other interns, I visited two computer kiosks near Panipat in Haryana. After hours of beeps and bumps, we arrived at the first kiosk. Like in rural Africa, these villages are extremely difficult to get to! And, for the first time since arriving in India, it was actually quiet. Weird.

Krishan, the Drishtee entrepreneur, showed us his shop. In a small concrete building, he has two computers, a printer and a small photo studio, complete with fancy lights. He offers the typical Drishtee services but computer classes and digital photography are his specialty. Thanks to renovations, his storefront looks very professional but has cut into his profits. To survive, he and his brothers also earn income through agriculture. Along with a beaming smile, Krishan impressed us with his entrepreneurial spirit and desire to learn (and earn) more.
Here is a snapshot from Davender's kiosk, the second visit. Davender is sitting in the back in the middle. He is a 22 year old Drishtee entrepreneur who teaches computer classes. The three boys in the front are current students who ably demonstrated how to use Microsoft Office. They were also very excited about Microsoft Paint - they drew a Indian flag for us.

In addition to teaching 10 students about computers, Davender sells auto batteries, battery-powered lights and mobile phone recharges. He especially enjoys teaching and wishes he could learn more about computers so he could offer higher-level classes. Davender also keeps it in the family - his dad helped him start the business and the kiosk itself is located in the basement. Because he does not have to pay rent, Davender does earn enough to sustain himself...and a potential family. He is single and looking...
Throughout the day I was impressed with how welcoming the communities were. Like this boy (who was clearly amused with us!), many of people we encountered were friendly and helpful. They also made me realize that family and community are very important components of this business.

By visiting the kiosks, I received a unique glimpse of how people live. Though these two villages felt remote to me, things are getting better all the time. There is concrete everywhere - which means that permanent houses are being built. There were electricity and cell phone towers. And there was even a bit of traffic, though most was caused by large herds of water buffalo. The irony is that these things - concrete, cell phone towers, congestion - are all things that we detest in the West. Maybe we should not always take them for granted.

Bikes, Baggage and Black Eyes

2007-06-25T04:29:00.000-07:00

Has it only been a few days? I feel I have aged significantly as a result of driving on Delhi and Noida's crazy roadways. At the same time, it is totally thrilling to cruise around on the back of a scooter. Even though it is 100+ degrees, I have never felt so cool. To get a better sense of driving in India, check out the pictures in this blog, India Ink.

Not much has changed on other fronts. I am still battling with British Airways over my baggage. Even after two more hours at the airport and six hours on the phone and online, I am trying to remain respectful but my conflict resolution skills are being tested. However, I have not yet resorted to chaining myself to the luggage counter at the Delhi airport and screaming obscenities while scarfing down duty-free chocolate and booze.

As for my first weekend, it was great. Being spared "Delhi Belly" so far, I have devoured a wide range of North and South Indian food. I am getting used to the spiciness and eating vegetarian. And the mangoes are amazing!

My sister would also be proud that I have visited the local malls. Not my first choice but I really needed underwear! It was amazing; 5 floors of consumer goods, complete with movie theaters, beef-less McDonalds (Home of the McVeggie Burger and Chicken Masala Big Mac) and distorted Celine Dion blasting in the background.

Last but not least, I have two black eyes. Through my work colleague, I have connected with the ex-pat scene in Delhi. Along with young "representatives" from the Russian, Canadian, Dutch, U.S. and Australian embassies, I played Ultimate Frisbee on Saturday afternoon in a gorgeous park in Delhi. Thanks to a head-on collision (literally), I smashed up my nose and now look quite thuggish. But at least I have clean clothing!

What is Drishtee?

2007-06-22T04:05:00.000-07:00

I have never had to wear a uniform. I did not go to private school and I have not worked at McDonalds or Best Buy. However, after four days in the same clothing, I feel like I have an unofficial Indian uniform. I did purchase a new shirt so I look more local (and smell less pungent) but still waiting on British Airways for my luggage…

On a more positive note, I have learned a lot about Drishtee, the organization I am working for. For your reading pleasure, I have added a few links with stories about what we are doing as well as a link to the main page. Although the initial focus was on technology, Drishtee now uses a wide range of models and products to make a positive impact on rural villagers in India. Using a network of 1500+ local entrepreneurs, we provide everything from cell phones and reading glasses to loans and computer classes. The photo above is of a Drishtee computer kiosk.

For my summer assignment, I will work on our English and computer education. For less than 20 U.S. dollars, we provide two months of beginning or intermediate English education, including classroom teaching, computer learning and interactive exercises. For less than 100 U.S. dollars, we provide an array of computer education classes to help villagers become more familiar with computers or to prepare more experienced students for careers in programming or web design.

I will primarily work at Drishtee’s headquarters in Noida, right outside of Delhi. I will also visit many of our rural kiosks to better understand the reality of these operations. I hope to sit in on a class or two…maybe I will learn more about Excel than I did in Modeling Class last year. Just kidding.

As for right now, I am asking lots and lots of questions. Luckily, everyone at Drishtee is more than willing to put up with my endless queries. Let’s hope they do not get tired of me.

In a Cow's Eye

2007-06-21T05:05:00.000-07:00

I have finally arrived in India. I got in at midnight last night, only to find out that my bag did not make it. British Airways says that it could be two days, maybe three. Who needs clean clothes anyway - especially when you are hot, sweaty and dirty!

The apartment is fine, complete with a few more roommates than I initially expected, including the 6-inch cockroaches that habitat the bathroom. After a more restful night (beds are much more comfortable than airport benches!), I headed off for the first day of work. It was the craziest commute I have ever had. Cars, buses, scooters, motorcycles, bikes, pedestrians, dogs, goats and cows going every which way, all honking, barking or mooing at once. I rode a motorized rickshaw - packed with people - and very rickety. I thought I was going to die. But the best part - I saw a three-eyed cow. The poor guy was sitting up in the back of a gaudishly-decorated cart, mooing away as everyone came up to admire him. I could not tell who was more freaked out - the cow or the observers. You cannot make this stuff up.

First Night

2007-06-19T15:05:00.000-07:00

Ah, the adventure of modern travel. I will spend the first night of my journey to India...in the London Heathrow Airport. Thanks to inexplicable delays on behalf of British Airways, I missed my connection to Delhi and cannot fly out until tomorrow morning. Of course, they claim that all the hotels in the area are booked (something about Ascot?) so I must take comfort in fake leather, lipstick-red lounge chairs, under a canopy of odd flourescent lighting. It should be restful.

But I am not alone. There is a crew of us...refugees of delayed flights, fully outfitted with contraband airplane blankets and those silly masks they give you. Plus, British Airways has generously provided us with multiple vouchers for food (or booze) so a group of us have congregated at the "cafe". One Italian, one Scot and one other American (who is headed to South Africa to volunteer with HIV/AIDS survivors). Many glasses of wine. Great conversation, great times. We will see how much sleep I get tonight.