You are invited to a meeting ... .in Hanoi !

Hanoi ? Vietnam ? Places I have heard of for my whole entire life - but where exactly is it ? In the 3 years that I've been in India, I haven't given it a second thought, and now that the meeting is being held in Hanoi

I am at a loss as to exactly where it is.

The only Hanoi I can think of is the infuriating Tower of Hanoi problem from the Algorithms class at Marist College. And that brings with it the memory of Prof Ten Eyck and the "page fault".. A computer is said to have experienced a page fault - and therefore a slight delay in processing - when the data required for a transaction cannot be found in local memory and must be fetched from external storage , in my case that would be from Google.

So in the map above - you can clearly see the eastern part of India, Bangladesh and the Bay of Bengal on the left. The big country adjacent to Assam is Myanmar (which most of us know as Burma) Ad next to it stretching down to the coast is Thailand. Cambodia is the country sitting below and to the east of Thailand and Laos is the long thin sliver nestled between Thailand and Vietnam - Vietnam being the country colored in red. Burma, Assam, Laos and Vietnam all share a border with China. To the East of Vietnam, is the South China Sea and the set of islands directly east are the Philippine Islands. Cannot see Malaysia on this map, it is to the south of Thailand. Singapore, which is at the southern end of Malaysia, is seperated from Malaysia by the Singapore straits . Indonesia is to the south of the Philippines and east and south of Malaysia and Singapore. So there you have it the countries of the ASEAN region !!

So now that we all know where Vietnam is lets see how a US citizen gets there from New Delhi (note we still do not know where Hanoi is). Apparently everyone needs a visa to go to Vietnam. If you are a US citizen you pay a $100 for the privilege that the rest of the world pays $25 for. The visa must be applied for on the web and collected on arrival.

There are no direct flights from New Delhi (or most places for that matter). You must either connect through Hongkong, Singapore or Bangkok. All international flights arrive around 9:30am and depart around 11:00am. Those are the choices. So its like catching a red eye (Delhi-Bankok) and then making a connection. I arrive BKK at 4:15am (who wants to arrive anywhere at that hour) and catch my connection at 8:30am. Fortunately Bangkok airport has the best foot massage parlor. Spending time there should not be hard.

I shall spare you the Delhi airport travails this time - you are starting to get the drill by now. I've arrived very early for my flight, so it is less of a battle all around and before long I settle into an empty chair with my generous supply of mail.

I had tried to look up the weather report before leaving, and instead of hitting weather I hit news - The headlines screamed - Diarrhea epidemic continues unabated in Hanoi ! and Foot and mouth disease cases mount (again in Hanoi).. and I am reminded that high rate of GDP aside, this is still a developing tropical country. Don't drink the water !!!

The flight from Delhi to Bangkok is jam packed. Lekhni tells me I have the last seat. I have now dubbed this flight the Smuggler's special. Hundreds of people that can only be characterized as the business community are on board. The stewardess tells them about 4 times to go back to their seats - they are all running all over the place hugging, kissing like long lost brothers, trading notes on the friendliest customs agents and duty free prices. As soon as the plane is in the air - they are back - I ask the fellow leaning right over me to talk to his pal if he would like to sit in my seat. Sadly the irony is lost on him - as he moves his garlic laden breath a few inches away.. I am about to call the stewardess.. when better counsel prevails and he moves onto another buddy. I wonder if this Vietnam trip is really worth it. Fortunately it is an outbound flight so I am not ladenwith oddshaped packages poking into my sides.

Hanoi, I realize from the flight map on the plane, is in the northern part of the country. Hard to tell just how far it is from the coast. The chauffeur with the hotel car later tellls me it is 90 miles to the ocean. What about Saigon you say ? Saigon is on the southern tip - its been renamed Ho Chi Minh City after the revolutionary leader. It is the commercial capital of the country - not as pretty I am guessing as Hanoi.

The airport at Hanoi is a scene I am now increasingly used to - complete bedlam, chaos and confusion and long lines. The desks are manned by young kids - barely 22 years old. They seem to look at the passports with fear and bewilderment - so perhaps I exaggerate , perhaps that is my projection but man they were painfully slow with their processing. The one kid looked at my passport photo then my face then back at the photo - he was struggling with believing it was the same person.... Hey kid.. me too...! I actually think I am way skinnier than that photograph. .but trust me it was a bad camera..can we get a move on please.

I make it outside eventually - find the driver of the BMW 325 that is to transport me to the Hotel - the Sofitel.

I have to confess I approached this trip with less enthusiasm than many other trips to foreign lands. The only thing going for it were a couple of websites that talked of Dreaming of Hanoi and the strong French influence on the city. It is a beautifully appointed hotel. And I realize as I see the Burberry, Louis Vitton and other luxury labels on the stores in the neighborhood that I must be in a very elite neighborhood. It is a very old hotel that boasts Charlie Chaplin and a zilion other celebrities stayed at.

The first day there I was consumed by jet lag (from my trip to the US the previous week) and could barely wake myself up for the 5pm meeting. Dinner was a 30 course Vietnamese feast including a large fish wrapped in banana leaf. 2 men had to carry the fish into the room on a stretcher. Exotic sea and land food - spotted snails, crabs and what not were on the menu. All very fishy. I was relieved when I saw my picky Indian colleague say he was not going to eat eggplant - he wanted pasta !!! The big boss joined us and being picky Indian eaters became legitimate.

Business meeting was interesting - and we had pasta for lunch again while our colleagues ate more Vietnamese delicacies.

Dinner was at Club 51 a gorgeous setting - a French Vietnamese restaurant. The decor was absolutely stunning. The reds and the golds the lanterns, the details... exquisite. And a vegetarian meal !!!

The next afternoon after the business meeting and the calls, I decided I really needed to make an effort to overcome my ennui - after all when would I return to Vietnam ?

So I hauled myself downstairs. All the tours had departed and some had returned. I was able to hire a tour guide to accompany around town. Lots of bicycles - French style - heavy French influence on the architecture.. Saw the Hanoi Hilton- not a luxury hotel - but the prison in which American prisoners were held !

Drove around town, visited the markets - overwhelming smell of fish again - no seriously I've seen as much pork and chicken breast as I want to see in a lifetime - no exotic seafood does nothing to whet my appetitie - i've seen enough - yes fascinating shoe market.... but no not toda. I did pick up some souvenirs - the lacquered plates are stunning yet simple - learnt the legend of the temple in the lake with disappearing magic sword. I saw the Water Puppet theatre - where the puppets are manipulated from rice sticks under the water rather than dangled on a string (top picture) ...... picked up a couple of fish puppets... they look interesting just strewn around - nice , But seriously, no I'm not in a hurry to rush back even if it is the only place in the world with a favorable exchange rate to the dollar. I still was left with half of the million dong I had withdrawn from the ATM ($65 the AP CFO had told me). Finally spent it at the airport the next day on Vietnamese chikki - wonder what mom will say when I bring it home....... why does it smell like fish ?

Annonymous Woman in Bangalore

The other day I went to a meeting in one of our new buildings in Bangalore. It was a large, sparsely populated building and they were just completing the finishing touches – like putting up signs that tell you how to get out of the building.

I was sarting to think I’d have to call someone to show me how to get out of the building and find my way to where the Hertz driver had dropped me off - when a young woman came clattering down the stairs.

She looked very much like my Salyani. Except she was wearing a short sleeved shirt and pants. And she was carrying a lightly filled backpack. She said she would show me how to get out of the building and find the AXIS bank where my driver would be waiting. She had a slightly harried look on her face.

She asked me where I was going – and I told her the name of my hotel. She did not know where it was. And we kept talking and walking. And she asked me again where I was going and I told her again – and I asked where she was going She told me her house was very far and she would be catching a bus to get there. I asked her again if she would like a ride. She accepted.

We chatted between my emails and phone calls – 6 kms feels like 46 in rush hour Bangalore.

It started with her asking me how the market for SAP-HR was. Given that that was the first time I had heard about SAP-HR, I was operating on very thin ground. She proceeded to tell me that her husband was very passionate about SAP-HR – he had taken out a loan for 4 lakhs ($10,000) and gone to school to become certified in SAP-HR. However, he was struggling with getting a job in that field because he did not have any relevant experience. He had been doing other jobs and helping out at the institute for the last 6 months. “I am really worried that we will never be able to pay off this loan”.

The story got sadder – She worked at my company in our prestigious research division. She was an engineering graduate and worked as a programmer.

She had been married to her college sweetheart. He was living in Chennai with his parents so he could go to the institute. His parents were old and could not look after little kids. Her mother had a debilitating illness and her father looks after her mother.

So this brave young woman, happily married and having all 4 grandparents is living like a single mom of the West in the middle of family smothered India. She lives in an apartment at the other end of time. She has a young woman come in to watch over her 2 year old baby. She leaves early in the morning – driving her scooter to Domulur. She parks her scooter in a public space near the bus station, and takes the bus to Whitefield. It takes about 2 and half hours to get each way to work. I had helped shrink her commute by about 30 mins today.

Twice a week she works from another office closer to Domulur – so her commute is shorter. She really cannot work from home – broadband too expensive , and the baby cannot understand why she won’t play with her.

Why don’t you move to Chennai – oh he really likes Bangalore – he wants to live here. Of course we may need to do something different if he does not get a job soon. All of 25 years old, the weight of the world sat on her shoulders.

My heart went out to this young woman, whose name I will never know – but whose courage and dedication impressed me deeply. .

A Brush with the Arts

I was waiting to board my flight. I had a good seat right in front of the gate, so I could board when my turn came.

A slightly older gentleman – probably in his late 50s came and sat down in the seat next to mine. Grey hair,glasses, wearing a suit and carrying a spring coat. Now I was in a better mood than I generally am at Delhi airport, but I still wasn’t feeling friendly enough to talk to strangers.

I was a little surprised when he struck up a conversation. He was waiting for the Swissair flight of which there was no sign (we were sitting by the AA gate). So he wanted to know if this was a business trip – he’d seen me talking to them and mistaken me for a friendly soul. I told him yes. I told him about the conference etc. And when it got to qsn #3 and I was tired of answering – I asked him where he was headed. He said Zurich.

So I asked him why he was going to Zurich. He was just starting a world wide lecture tour. First stop Zurich followed by Bern, Berlin, Amsterdam, London, New York, Washington DC, San Francisco, Tokyo, Beijing, and Singapore (I may have missed a coupled of cities and added 1 or 2.)

Ooh – the good life I thought !! What do you lecture on ? I am not sure what I was expecting but he told me he is an expert in Ancient Indian History. “I am the custodian of the ancient Indian arts and culture,” And then he moved into a passionate discourse on how people are only aware of the history that the British have chosen to publish. But the published history of India is largely inaccurate. for example there was never a single religion called Hindu – Hindu was the name of the people that lived south of the river Hind or Indus.

“I heard you talk about Shanghai with your colleague – do you go there often ?” “Actually I’ve never been, though I’d love to go. Really loved Beijing though – best foot massages anywhere in the world “ – happy to move to a topic where I was on slightly firmer ground . “Foot massages ! I have never had one – I am not into massages…” he sounded very uncomfortable. “But – I’ve traveled all over China” he said.

“China is a place where art and culture still thrives . And it is such an energizing, vital place. I’ve traveled all over it – been on a train all the way to Lhasa. I do not speak the language but the Chinese are some of the most friendly and warm people anywhere in the world.”

Despite my virtually non-existent knowledge of Indian history I foolishly attempted a feeble argument – “well but haven’t we been colonized civilization after civilization” “Give me an example” he says with the confidence of one who has demolished every argument there is – “well Alexander – Alexander was here for barely a few years hardly long enough to have an impact. And what about the Mughals ? “ I stammer – wondering why I had gone there in the first place. “The Mughals did not impose their religion on India – they assimilated with Indians “ - I wanted to argue that he was still a colonist but let it pass as he was pressing on with his argument – “11 of the 16 artists in his court were Hindu – there is a strong similarity between the art of ancient India and the Mughals …….. and etc…”

I cannot recall how we got to it but then he was telling me about how National Geographic had done a 16-spread on him. “It his the stands last month. And they still have it on their website. Wow! Yes and it is the first positive article I have seen on this country. I am very proud of the article and my country. Nat Geo sent a photographer and writer to work with me and visit the places I wanted to show them. The photographer was initially caught up with the very obvious color India has to offer and he took some photos of people begging – but the writer soon saw what I had to show and he made sure we got the right story”.

The Nat Geo article http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/01/

india-ancient-art/map-interactive

And then a gate official walked up to us and asked if we were traveling on American – the lines had thinned out and it was time for me to board my flight. I turned to the gentleman and asked him his name – Binoy Behl – read all about him.

Delhi Airport Circa April 2008 – Maybe, just maybe, there is a world class airport waiting to emerge.

Things are starting to get a little better at Delhi Airport. Or it could be that the weather is improving. Last night getting into the airport – I did not have to wrestle my way in – nice orderly lines and no mob. The temperature was also a balmy 70 degrees…entering the airport had never been this easy. Frame of mind you say ? Possible Rama says, “Anything is possible in Delhi”.

Of course there were the same makeshift counters, the same long lines, but just a litte bit less confused.

There were the 4 of us traveling this time… we are on our way to the Technical Leadership Exchange in Orlando, Fl. 3500 leaders from IBM will gather there to share ideas on things that matter to our business. We’re sending a large contingent from India – about 30 people.

We make it through immigration and customs and we head to the gate. – we’ve come in early – its less crowded as usual – but it still takes a while to find 4 seats together. The 4 of us flip open our laptops and get to work!!!!!!! You can spot a group of IBMers anywhere.

AA calls our flight – so I head to the gate – and I am told that they are only pre-screening the people way in the back of the plane. They won’t be allowed to board till the crew actually arrives. The crew arrived 60 mins later!!!! My colleagues spent 45 mins on the jet bridge waiting to be allowed to board.

For once – I was the very last person to board the aircraft. And when I got in I found someone optimistically occupying my aisle seat. I watched him pick up his stuff and move !! And only a tiny part of me felt sorry for him having to pack his long legs in the window seat.

Ringtone Maloo !!

So you might want to read "Building Up to the XIC reunion" if you haven't done so yet. Because it started when we went looking for classmates from oh so long ago.

In the last 3 weeks we've "found" Hema, Christine, Malcolm, Rohinton, Denzil, Pushkar, Billi, Karl, Sanjiv, Sanjeev, Bisham, Uneza, Jairam, Yogi, Peyton and Chitra.

12 of the 16 have connected in and been party to the inane , often silly and occasionally comic genius banter. 2 have maintained a steadfast silence - and the jury is still out on the other 2.

We have found that atleast 1 of the 16 is agile enough to make it up a coconut tree. Whether he makes it back down or not we do not know - cos he uses his blackberry to respond to mails. 2 can write email when under severe peer pressure. 1 has invented a very interesting language called bhangrezi - angrezi when written under the influence of bhang, of course. There have been phone calls and a couple of "sightings". The word is out - everyone has turned 40 (a few times atleast), got grey hair - which some remember to color, and are starting to act, show or look their age.

But appearances and accomplishments apart - the old characteristics are still very much in evidence. Take for example Christine - the social ambassador - smoothing out the rough edges making people welcome.

Or Malcolm who has hoarded every photograph and autograph book he ever took in his entire life, has then indexed and filed everyone of them, now he trots them out as evidence should someone make one false move.

He also teaches meditation in his spare time. If he is this wired with meditation, I wonder what he'd be like without it. No more caffeine for you Malcolm.

No one has seen Sanjiv - but we've talked to him, and we've seen his website - impressive - and he has set up a website we can post photos and share info about ourselves. Denzil still has the wry sense of humor. Yogi is still acting like the playboy - I did not know then whether it was real or an act and i still don't know. Sanjeev was his old self - easy to talk to. If Pushkar did not say a word - you'd think we were still in XIC -he looks just as he did.

And Rohinton Maloo - if you didn't actually see him face to face and just heard him on the phone - same thing - the sense of humor, if anything has sharpened over time. The stories have become richer with the varied experience he's had.

Some examples: "In a few years, people will need to get a visa to visit the United States of Delhi - its like a country in itself - like no other part of India. " Rohinton left our reunion early so he could stop by at his hotel and change into a suit - he was to go to a party at which the host had called him and asked him to come formally dressed. When he showed up there sweating profusely in his 3 piece suit - he saw all the men wearing 'flowing kurtas and embroidered bras" over their pajamas. For this, our dear Rohinton, spent an extra 2 hours riding around Delhi to grab his jacket !!!!

Rohinton's best playmates are the security guards in the various offices he visits. He insists on drawing a picture or scrawl instead of signing his name. He then tells them he is writing his name in Ancient Egyptian - the only language he writes (no no - the guards never question - cos they cannot read anyway). Some of them want him to have his photo taken for an electronic ID Badge. Rohinton loves making faces into the webcam much to the chagrin of the security guards. So then Rohinton engages in a philosophical discussion - its still me isn't it... this is how i look most of the time anyway - it will help people recognize me . .. why do you need a photo if my face is already there.... " and the poor guards can only offer a weak 'Sir that is not how it should be".

The other day he went to the Reliance Mobile office - they had been expecting him . The guard called up the host and informed him that Ringtone Maloo had arrived !!

Ringtone Maloo - funy how it just works. Can you imagine - Ringtone Sequeira, Ringtone Mehta, Ringtone Sharma, Ringtone Basu, Ringtone Shah, Ringtone Fernandes, Kashyap !!!! Maybe Ringtone Bisham and Ringtone Yogi or Ringtone Bamroo might work......... but Ringtone Maloo sounds just right.

If this post seems disjointed its cos i fell asleep writing it. Either its very boring or I am up very late !