Ali Bytes: Bullet-sized strategies for modern living

In late February I heard about these two informally organized groups that completely changed my perspective on Hyderabad and entrepreneurship.

1. Hash House Harriers: This “drinking club with a running problem” was started in Malaysia in the 1938 by a group of British soldiers and has since spread all over the world. The idea isn’t that simple but once you try it and get it, you may become addicted like I am. The group, open to anyone almost anywhere, meets at a different location at the same day and time each week (or month) to go on a run (or walk) that is set by a couple of “hares” who lay the trail using a powdered substance (usually flour in the U.S., cement powder here in Hyderabad). The trail is a series of clues that include sending you down wrong paths so you have to “on back,” retracing your steps to find the right path. It’s an amazing way to explore any city - particularly one where running outside is an alien endeavor; I often feel like we are a parade drawing people out of their homes to watch. Every group in the world customizes it to their liking - some try to catch the hares, some take beer breaks in the middle, etc. - but they all finish with beer at the end and members who have been initiated have nicknames, mostly NSFW. While I only did it once in DC, I joined H4 (Hyderabad + HHH) in February and haven’t missed a Sunday run with this fun group of quirky people from all different backgrounds.
2. Couch Surfing: How does one afford to travel around the world when hotel rooms in some places are $100 a night or more? Well couch surfing found an amazing solution to the problem - allow people to offer up their couches at no cost. While there is no money exchanged (or any other favors actually) between the surfer and couch owner, there is a small fee to register on the site which goes towards maintenance of the site and employing a couple of full time employees of this nonprofit organization based in New Hampshire. What’s most fascinating to me, however, isn’t just the simple genius of the idea started in 1999, but it’s the community that has grown around it. Each year couch surfers meet for a kind of conference, hang out and talk about couch surfing. It’s amazing that there is such a strong common identity among a group of people united by the fact that they prefer to stay in a stranger’s home than pay for a hostel. Though perhaps it’s more than that as the slogan adopted in 2006 suggests: “Participate in Creating a Better World, One Couch At A Time.”

This is the first of two posts comparing India and the U.S. starting with what we as humans seem to be more trained to see – differences.  There are of course many more so feel free to add to this list.

A recent book review for Roadrunner: An Indian Quest In America, suggests that the author uses his experience in America to reflect on his own country, India, and that “to reflect is to identify problems, acknowledge failures, and offer other ways of thinking.” While I’m not quite at the IAO (identify, acknowledge, offer) part of this process, I have certainly reflected on the cultural differences between the two countries.

Borrowing from the thesis of Switch, the Heath brother’s new book, it seems that the question for a successful entrepreneur in this century – whether in India, the U.S. or in between - is how to build on what is working to fix what isn’t. Though sometimes it’s hard to know what needs fixing.

1. Spoken versus written language: In both work and socially, the clearest sign that I am not from India is my attachment to the written word. Despite knowing that face-to-face and voice-to-voice are the preferred means of communication, I can’t let go of my desire to make plans over email and present an idea in a document. So I’ve just started to do both – drafting an email that says I will follow-up via phone or verbally flagging for my colleague that I sent them something to look at. In India, a word of mouth recommendation is just that, while in the U.S. it has become “word of link.” 
2. Service versus empowerment: It takes but a moment in this country to learn that India is a service-based culture in every way. As evidenced by the people that follow you around in stores to some of the categories on the GreenMango site (drivers, cooks, etc), there is virtually nothing you need done that you couldn’t hire someone to do, at a relatively low cost.  This is possibly a legacy of the caste system but most certainly a result of India’s two largest commodities: people and time. In the U.S. on the other hand, labor is expensive, time is limited and people want to feel independent. Companies in the U.S. – from Home Depot to the Food Network to Mint.com – are about automation and helping people become more self sufficient.
3. Order versus law: Indians seem to snub almost all road laws including red lights and helmets, and while judges are honored members of society, a land dispute in India can last generations with no resolution. Very much the opposite of the U.S., which relies heavily on the law to settle disputes, India is a not a litigious society and yet, the crime rate in India is significantly lower overall (at least reported) than in the U.S.. People will get angry, but generally the recipient will absorb it and the problem doesn’t escalate. I am learning to take advantage of this in small ways: when I walk into a store and they ask to check my bag, I give an Indian head bobble and keep walking, as I know they don’t want confrontation.
4. Wealthy obesity versus poor obesity: Generally, in India, people who are overweight are wealthy. (These are the same people I see doing the toe touching workouts at the gym, which might also explain their weight problem.) On the contrary, in the U.S. weight problems more skewed towards low-income earners: 22.4% of young people living below the poverty line are overweight or obese versus 9.1% whose families earn at least four times that amount according to TIME in 2008. This certainly has to do with the cost of food, which generally is the opposite here as it is in the U.S. where unhealthy foods are cheaper (of course, a generalization). In India, a box of cereal costs me about $6 (though imported) and a bag of Haldirams snack mix is 70 cents while a bag of seven carrots costs me 18 cents a yogurt costs 33 cents.
5. Fantasy versus emotional marketing: The core of U.S. marketing – whether for a product or a mission – is trying to make something more emotional to “tug at the heart strings” and make you act (or buy). There are studies that compare puppies against kittens and we know that pictures of kids faces (or any faces really) increase response rates.  But in India, some argue that people are consistently surrounded by emotion (or reality) such that escape is more attractive.  One person told me that you only need to look at the movie industry to see this: Slumdog Millionaire was not as acclaimed in India as it was in the U.S., for example, as compared to the dramatic, dancing, singing Bollywood style of film.  I haven’t completely bought into this but there are significant differences about selling to Indians versus Americans if for no other reasons than some of those on this list. 
6. Landmarks versus street signs: In the U.S. you can for the most part get in a cab and say where you’re going and get there. In India you almost always have to know where you are going and that also almost always involves landmarks as few streets are properly labeled.  This may be a bit different in more metropolitan cities like Mumbai or Delhi but in Hyderabad, maps are pretty useless.  Take the directions to get to Hash House Harriers on Sunday.  Something like: “Go past Apollo hospital and when you get to the fork with the temple, stay to the right. Go about 1km and make a right at the VSIP sign.”  Navigating involves all parties in the vehicle and can become quite a bonding experience with the driver. 

It’s difficult to reflect on my day-to-day experiences in India knowing that I am so far removed from the experience of the Haiti crisis – of course physically but also in terms of coverage. I have seen but one article in the local paper, The Hindu, on half of the back page of the main section (there have certainly been others that I have not seen but not one on the front page). I just read a moving piece by Dr. Mark Hyman that blew me away in content and communication capacity; it is incredible to me that amidst 75 surgeries in 3 days, he is blogging to share his story!

I have been wondering how this world tragedy could get so little coverage (and to think people complain about U.S. media) and can only surmise that perhaps paying attention to other’s suffering requires a break from your own. Earlier this week, when the U.S. was celebrating non-violent resistance in honor of Martin Luther King, people here were dousing themselves in gasoline and torching themselves in protest over a delay in creating a new state. I don’t pretend to understand the complexity of the issue (and certainly mean no disrespect by my comparison) but as a naïve American, it is to me like hearing an American University student hung himself over DC voting rights. While my Indian coworkers share, to a degree, my disbelief, the topic of Haiti has yet to come up over lunch.

Tragedy certainly notwithstanding, being reminded of the basics of living (i.e. water and humanity) is something that as a detached witness, I can embrace. In my own experiences, I was reminded of some of these basics after spending 7 hours on Saturday at the Hyderabad zoo with about 70 little people from the Hyderabad Children’s Aid Society (lots of pictures here). They remind me that whether in Haiti or India, people are the same in basic ways and it would suit me to remember that more often.

1. Attention is all most people really want. These kids got such a thrill from seeing themselves on my camera and desperately wanted me to know each of their names. They all wanted to know my name even though they called me “Sister”, and asked me questions even though they could barely understand my answers. I felt that they wanted to get and hold my focus on them. It reminds me of an HP social computing lab study (pdf) that found that what motivates participation in social media is not self-expression or altruism but rather attention. Max Kalehoff of MediaPost summed it up nicely: “Because to grant attention is to acknowledge; and acknowledgment is the basis of all relationships.” Attention is the most basic form of validation that “yes, I exist” and granting someone that focus and recognition is the easiest thing we can do.
2. As the saying goes, it’s better to give than to receive. These kids didn’t complain once – and it was hot, we walked a lot and they had to carry their canteen lunch around for about 4 hours. When we finally sat to eat, the kids got a paper plate (with no utensil or napkin) of yellow rice followed by a plate of white rice and finished off with a banana. Sure much of India is vegetarian for religious purposes, but plain rice for an entire meal? Food is but one example of how little they have. Yet, when afternoon snack time came and each kid got two pieces of candy and a pack of biscuits, half a dozen of them rushed up to me to give me theirs. No sooner do they get something are they ready to share it. I wonder how much of this has to do with the generous, hospitable Indian culture. If you’ve ever eaten at an Indian home, you know what I mean - you can’t say no. (Actually, I turned down thirds for lunch and Auntie responded “you don’t like Indian food?”)
3. Hand holding is underrated. Last time I was in India, I was surprised to see that grown men hold hands as a form of friendship (particularly given how generally homophobic the culture is). The kids love holding hands and I can understand why. It’s the most simple, non-sexual form of affection that can be done moving or sitting still, talking together or in silence. And it is an activity that has no age, gender, language or culture barriers - everyone knows how. 

Well I’ve been MIA for a while prepping for a “life sabbatical.”  On Saturday, I arrived safely in Hyderabad, India. As with most big changes, it was bittersweet to leave Beaconfire but I decided to pursue a path I’ve been interested in since before starting business school: the intersection of making dollars and making change.

Since most of you reading this got the super quick version, here’s the regular quick version: I’ll be here until early May working on various online constituent relationship management, user experience and content strategy projects for a social enterprise start up called GreenMango. The company was started in 2008 by two young American women with backgrounds in micro-finance who felt there was a place for low cost, valuable services for small businesses (in addition to the now popular loan model). The idea is to bridge the “informal” economy – unregistered businesses which consist of individuals with trade skills but no access to the internet or marketing abilities – with consumers, or “shoppers,” who are looking for cooks, carpenters, cleaners, etc. for their homes.

Needless to say, living in India is going to take some getting used to.  Though I have yet to uncover all the ways, here is a sampling of my first few days.

1. Brushing my teeth with bottled water. As you may know, the most persistent threat to a foreigner’s health is water, like in much of the developing world. Of course, the autos don’t drive in proper lanes and malaria is an issue, but water impact everything you do. Because of this, I pour water into a mug and hold it in my left hand while brushing my teeth, which is both for swirling my toothbrush and so I can resist the instinct to turn on the water.
2. Having a “tea lady.” Yesterday was my first day of work and one of my few American colleagues asked me how I want my tea – with or without sugar and with or without milk. “Actually, you have to have it with milk. Do you want sugar?” I said, just a little. She replied, “This isn’t Starbucks. It’s either with or without.” I had three cups of it because Lakshmi brings it over to me whenever she sees I drank the last cup. It’s pretty awesome. There’s also a guy who goes and buys your lunch. While this is a bootstrapping start up, I wonder if this is kind of what it feels like to work at Google?
3. Walking away from a negotiation over 20 cents. Typically an auto ride costs about 50 cents to one dollar for a 3-5 mile ride and people in India generally hate to overpay (and often think they are overpaying). Before getting into an auto (which is just a scooter that fits people in a back seat), you have to negotiate the price and 10 rupees too much is commonly a deal breaker.
4. Not having Internet access at home. I started a book (Half The Sky which I highly recommend) just two days ago and I’m on page 213, a rarity for me. The first day not having Internet was painful, but now I’m wondering if this kind of disconnecting is just what I need. My roommate is not sharing this revelation, however, so he’ll likely get us access so I can do late night/early morning Skype calls with people.
5. Feeling like Will Ferrell in Elf when he says “You have a big coat. I saw a dog today. Does your friend have a big coat too?” Seriously, I am like a five-year-old, announcing my random observations and asking dumb questions. For example, I am called “maam” by my colleagues at work. I’ve heard YMCA three times my first day (and Grease and Kung Fu Fighting and other 70s gems a few times too). And I’ve seen many more goats and camels than other white people. Some of the goats were eating trash next to a guy peeing on the side of the road and the camels were being ridden by 4 little boys giggling with delight and selling rides.
6. Walking with purpose without any. As I was warned, I am stared at everywhere I go. I don’t want any extra attention or to let people smell fear so I walk the same way I would in the U.S. – with intent and speed. The problem is that there are no sidewalks so I have to make sure I’m not hit by an auto, I don’t step in a mud puddle and don’t make eye contact all while figuring out where I’m going. It’s exhausting but will hopefully get easier as time passes and I have a sense of direction, both literally and figuratively.