Incredible India: Honest to Koenig Solutions

Growth at the expense of quality

Much as I would want nothing to curb my enthusiasm, I have been forced to curb my expectations but only for a while.

I am saddened to hear that despite the successes of Koenig Solutions in the delivery of Information Technology training that has made them recognised partners with global IT firms of repute and won them many prizes and accolades, their push for growth and expansion is affecting other essential matters badly.

Now, there is a great possibility that the expectations of trainees from the West could be radically different from those of trainees from other parts of the world, it should not make for poor standards of management, administration and trust.

Those silly little things

It is the little things in many places that add up to losing confidence and the encouragement to recommend these albeit good services to others.

For me, it started with the confusion about visas then on to the poor arrangements for picking me up at the airport for which I am yet to get a decent explanation or apology for that cock-up, my training centre where the coffee area is so dirty as to constitute a health risk; the foul dustbin just beneath the coffee machine, the toilet facilities show aging and the hand-soap bottles are best left untouched so as not to invite a plague.

I have somewhat overcome the shock of what to expect for lunch, vegetarian meals from Haldirams will suffice though I know my dentition is naturally intended for meatier stuff with a tendency to vampire lust.

Discontent and frustration

The cooks at the inn seemed to excel themselves this evening for the chicken wings appeared to acquire the excitement of taste by reason of the spices generously poured over them.

However, I sense a seething discontent, complaints about promises left unfulfilled tantamount to untruths on the part of some staff at the centre. The lack of record-keeping in terms of fees paid or books ordered and delivered.

Having conducted courses for years with people from all parts of the globe no discernible lessons have been learnt to facilitate the couriering of the heavy books and manuals to the students’ home countries; verbal arrangements are made to take tests at certain times only for the trainees to be told the tests cannot be taken on the newly arranged dates.

Frustrated opportunities

Trainees who feel that the only advantage of coming to India offers is an environment distant from the distractions at home, some of the trainers not ensuring that their activity is helping the trainees that they have decided to skip class rather than complain out of frustration that only apologies will be offered without effective action to ameliorate the situation.

These are all little probably inconsequential things that could easily be overlooked but when each apparently forgivable thing is collated into a list of issues, you begin to see what are systemic management failings that are creeping onto a heretofore tight ship and it is only a matter of time before the weight of this becomes the fundamental disincentive to those who at one time were persuaded to engage the services of this organisation.

Quality needs to gain new focus

All that said and done, my training is going apace; I am learning new things each day; the times have been productive and I am gaining confidence in the areas where I was once weak. My trainer is a fine young knowledgeable man.

There is no doubt that Koenig Solutions can polish up their act, they have all the potential even in India to make the whole end-to-end experience world-class, efficient, excellent and considerably worthwhile and as for all the quantity, quality will always be the distinguishing factor when we put the matter of cost to one side.

It all matters, every single detail; so far, a straw poll of those from my side of the globe indicates their other colleagues will not hear glowing reviews of how things are at the moment and that would be an avoidable shame.

Incredible India: Incredible Dissatisfaction

Water wasters

A long eventful day it was for my first training day. My day schedule indicated I was to be picked up at 8:45AM in the morning for the training centre but I had set my alarm for 7:00AM to ensure I could have a shave and what passes for breakfast at the inn.

We are encouraged to waste in an unconventional way because the hot water is only available in the mornings and evenings except on Sundays when we have it for the whole day.

The hot water is not on the tap per se, we have to let the water run down the drain for nigh on 10 minutes before it gets warm enough for our cossetted sense of welfare. Then my bathroom sink drain had no plug, a problem that was solved with a bit of improvisation – tissue, but hardly water tight – I have to pinch myself with the realisation, I am far from the comforts of my land.

Rather than wash from a bucket like I did before, I decided to use the shower this time, I probably saved more water with that.

Peanuts don’t taste like pistachios

Trainees usually get picked up at 8:10AM, I first spoke to the concierge who muttered incoherently unsure of what information I needed and I went for breakfast. I decided to get on the 8:10AM taxi about the time the concierge asked the driver about the later pickup. The driver asked to see my letter, read it as if he comprehended it then gave me back the letter without a word.

I concluded, the many task-driven men around could only follow clear instructions, they had no aptitude for initiative, the most they could offer was an apology, sometimes the genuflection of the Indian nodding head and not much else.

There was no point expecting the epitome of professional dispatch and alacrity, so I rode with that early group to the centre.

A penalty of expression

We were sat at the reception for a while before we were called into a room to start the registration process, though none of the staff for almost another 20 minutes suggested why we were there.

As the silence got deafening, it got too unbearable for me, so I broke the ice speaking out and prompting those gathered round to introduce themselves, then everyone got talking which made for the passage of time before the staff brought in forms and more forms to fill in.

I was surprised that the extra days trainees stayed before or after training were listed as penalties, a topic that never came up when the original arrangements were made, I will suppose it was more a deficit of language on their part than anything else.

It was just unacceptable

The back page had questions about the arrangements for airport meetings and other issues. It gave me the opportunity to excoriate the process that allowed for passengers on the same flight to receive two different sets of instructions which lead to my having to wait another 70 minutes after seeing the driver who came to pick me up.

As the manager tried to belittle the situation, I forcefully made it clear that it was untenable, appalling and an outrage that such a simple arrangement could be so utterly mishandled that it would weigh heavily on my assessment of the arrangements around the course. I stated that the many issues I have will appear on my blog.

After that discussion, I was allocated a training room in another building and I was surprised to find I was the only trainee with the luxury of one-to-one training – I had felt a group will make for more interaction – I cannot say I have appreciated the full benefit of this arrangement yet.

A sick bag almost utilised

After introductions, we went through the schedule of the training scheme and began to work on the subjects.

Meanwhile, I had to book lunch on the management system and I was in shock that brought me close to severe emetic tolerance when the drop-down menu revealed such exquisite restaurants as McDonalds, Subway and Dominoes amongst others.

At the risk of snobbery most unintended, I gave the trainer a synopsis of my background that tailed off with the phrase, “… we don’t do McDonalds.”

These are places where even if one did have a pet, such will not be found masticating those substances pretending to nutrition and I did not travel 6,300km to India to end up in such places.

On advice, beside the training centre was a vegetarian buffet offering varieties of cuisine, though there were security checks at the door – with the help of my trainer, I found out what to do and had vegetarian sandwiches for lunch.

One expects

In all, the day was productive and useful; I gained knowledge of many things whilst at the same time I was able to share some of my experience. I would have had a coffee but the setting of the coffee machine was so foul that I gave that a miss; one will surely remonstrate on the morrow about the condition of that place.

For all the equality, egalitarianism and affordability taking courses in India offers, there are areas where the apparent excess of men to perform seemingly menial tasks has not been efficiently deployed. Such minutiae should not become a distraction bordering on regret and so amends will be expected to be made.

After training, I made arrangements to visit the Taj Mahal in Agra in two Sundays time and on returning to our inn, we first had room service of a roll of bread and a cup of soup and then managed the dinner which was barely edible but for the good company the setting provided.

I have decided I will not apologise for being so Europeanised in my outlook, if one expects, it is not vexatious to demand essential change.

Incredible India: They came to Jesus

Take me to the church, not now

I was up quite early with the view to going to church because I thought I could catch the morning service at 10:00AM. At a few minutes to 9:00AM I called the pastor and found out that the early service serves a deprived community as I would rather not use the less salubrious word and it was the evening service that catered for the “city” people.

The plan was to pick me up at 1:00PM but the pastor ran into a problem that I thought would be a serious one when I first noticed it yesterday. My hotel, or inn that aspires to hostelry in an area of Delhi called Karol Barg and the conurbation is called West Extension Area or W.E.A. for short.

The roads that interconnect in this area are barely named except for the really major arteries and everything else falls into divisions of plots that an outsider will not decipher even if clairvoyant. Suffice it to say, this complexly ineffective street numbering system meant my pickup was delayed a good two hours before he found my hotel.

My hotel however had done the sacrilegiously reprehensible, it had no sign to indicate what the building was, and it was basically hiding in plain sight.

Out of town to worship

In the end, the pastor found me, his church is a new addition to our global church movement and it met in a hotel towards the boundary of Delhi to the East and so after introductions we got in the car and were driven the 28 kilometres to the venue.

The service was to start at 5:00PM, we arrived in sufficient time and over time I got to introduce myself to most members of the church with basic information of where I was from.

India, being a stridently Hindu country seems to have a serious aversion to conversions from Hinduism to Christianity, the pastor who is also a medical doctor suggested missionaries are not looked favourably upon by the immigration authorities for the fear that certain enlightenment that would raise the many condemned to societal ostracism by reason of religious caste systems might gain the quality of humanity for egalitarianism and sense of worth worthy of the 21^st Century.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is however not bound, the seeds sown about the revelation and power of Jesus Christ will pollinate the fields of trees (souls) in season eager for new truth and elevation to a better standard of life and outlook of hope.

Making acquaintances and establishing friendships

We, in countries where the freedom to assemble and worship is protected and constitutionally enshrined are sometimes unappreciative of what we have as the numbers of people who have converted hunger and yearn of much of what we take for granted.

In conversation on the way to the church, I told the pastor about my bout of cancer and how I believe that my miracle was mostly in the efficacy of medicine and the speed at which the serious symptoms subsided that the medical staff all concluded my recovery was miraculous.

The pastor seriously thought it was a testimony to share with the congregation and he was there and then purposed to call me forward to speak.

After having a drink of water and a coffee courtesy of the hotel owner who is also a church member, we gathered in the meeting hall where chairs were setup, the pulpit put on the stage and to the side were a triple set of Indian drums.

I shall sit amongst my brethren

To the right of the stage, facing the congregation two chairs were placed and the pastor invited me to take a seat. As it was traditional for Indians to honour guests in that way, but I could not be persuaded to take such a prominent place, I was just a guest; I was quite content to sit within the congregation, if I was not already conspicuous enough.

They did relent and the service started with strong fervent prayer with much thanks given for my health and wellbeing. We then had a time of praise and worship helped with the percussion of the drums which had a conga cum Bollywood sound to them and the clapping of hands.

The songs were all in Hindi so I basically clapped and rocked to the music, being clueless of the words but gripped by the spirit of the moment nonetheless.

My story of faith, medicine and miracles

After the songs, I was introduced to the congregation and called forward to share my testimony at which point I was presented with a gloriously colourful bouquet of flowers; I could only blush.

I started to speak by thanking them for a wonderful welcome and the warmth expressed to me then confessed that I am not familiar with being called up on stage to speak. The pastor stood by translating what I had to say and I was quite surprised at how I measured my sentences for the interpreter and how I was able to keep the story in flow.

I talked about how my health failed, the diagnosis, the treatment including chemotherapy, the recovery, the verdict and my improving health. I paid particular attention to the interworking of faith, medicine and miracles especially the need to engage doctors as part of diagnosis and continued assessment process no matter what is learnt from religious leaders.

I probably spoke for about 15 minutes and it appeared I had told a rather compelling tale of survival, at least the pastor believed that it was necessary for the congregation to learn about cancer not being the precipitous termination of life.

A message in our stories

After building on my testimony, he called forward another man who had been cured of kidney problems after prayer and we all thanked the Lord for His mercies and grace.

The message concerned Jesus the helper of the deprived and somewhere it there was woven the tale of my rejecting the seat of honour for a place amongst the congregation – it was all in Hindi but I had a witness that I could follow the drift of the conversation.

After the sermon, there was the offertory and as the youth gathered on stage to offer the opportunity of singing an English song, an assistant pastor offered a solo song of praise before we all sang “All to Jesus, I surrender” first in English and then in Hindi before the service closed.

Then we all shook hands saying the grace to each other and even engaged in conversations with many who were moved by my story.

Another fellowship

We then left for the pastor’s house for dinner, his wife prepared rice and peas, a chicken curry, a cheese curry, a salad and chapattis. Dessert was an apple and pineapple fruit salad and at the end we had sweetened milky coffee – I think that is how coffee is served in India, I had on two previous occasions in different places been presented with coffee of that recipe.

We then drove back to my hotel which seemed a longer distance than on our way out, the roads were quite busy – New Delhians appear to revel on Sunday nights too even if they had to work on Monday where they apparently tardily arrived at work after 10:00AM.

Despite the fact that the pastor had found my hotel earlier in the day, it was just confirmed to be how inscrutable the addressing system was that I hope it was not a nasty carryover from the colonial times. We probably asked 5 rickshaw men before we found my hotel – I was safely delivered to pen this piece.

They came to Jesus

For all that Incredible India offers, spare a thought for the minority whose religious do not attract favourable safeguards for the propping of a majority religion that does not confer rights we all hold dear and espouse in other lands. They are the true believers, in a way.

For amongst those I could now count as brethren were people who were born Hindus and Brahmins whose love for the simplicity of the gospel and experience of the power of the love of Christ has become a witness if not a judgement on the many who have injuriously manipulated our religion for ulterior ends or negated the power of it with lukewarm adherence.

Incredible India: The Tasks of Men are not Made to Time

Do I have the time?

In the month that I will spend in India, it can become quite easy to want to cocoon oneself and be isolated from the vagaries of life as it happens here.

The European sense of promptness and aversion to idling are already being challenged in ways that draw on my patience but not yet to exhaustion.

Each time I have gone to the hotel reception to either ask for assistance or some service the concierge has always asked me to sit down as if to calm me down if not to remove the urgency of my request, it is to lull me into some sort of soporific amnesia.

Now, I have no aversion to pleasantries but there are times where other things just have a greater importance and priority than to idle away time with small-talk rarely broaching the substance of why I was there in the first place.

A man for every task

There are other little observations of life that might not matter but I still find interesting. There seems to be a man for every job no matter how inconsequential it might appear. That is not to say that there aren’t people who multitask but the leaders in some way seem to have men at their beck and call for all sorts of errands and activities.

Like yesterday, I had a chaperone to the shops, today, there was one man to help convert money into small change and then for even smaller denominations there was another sent to sort that out. There is a man at the door just to keep the door ajar as there is another to welcome.

When we went out for a meal with a friend who was on the same flight as I was, as all attempts to ward away beggars from our window view failed, they got another man to shoo them away. Walking the streets, I saw many situations where men were at work that we would not essentially call work when I am ensconced in my comfort zone.

You wonder about the well-worn ideas of efficiency, productivity, throughput, engagement and careers, I suppose there are ways in which what I have observed in no different from stuff I once experienced in Nigeria.

Waiting for the indeterminates of time

I will not touch the matter of time, I will just assume that at my training centre there is a lot more in professionalism and punctuality than I have seen elsewhere.

It is literally impossible to fix a time, rather a range of time is offered where you can expect the rendezvous to be later than the upper limit of that range – you have to be careful not to be driven to distraction where you depend on others.

Made to last?

Then finally, I have noticed that with most goods not imported into India, at least the ones I have bought that are perishable; there is no expiry date, rather there is a manufactured date. There probably is a rule of thumb followed to indicate how long one should keep stuff – that should be one of the questions to the better learned staff at the training centre tomorrow.

However, imagine my horror when I had to take my pills on the first night and there was only a can of Diet Coke in my fridge with the date I could read being somewhere in October just as we entered the month of December – I took just about enough to swallow my pills before pouring the rest down the drain ready to remonstrate in the morning about expired products in my fridge.

Now, I know better, Incredible India is by all means a very different place.

Incredible India: The Streets of New Delhi

Out in a rout

Now, I know I have lived in Europe so long and have become inured to life in other places that appear palpable but quite abstracted on National Geographic or other documentaries showcasing distant and non-Western lands.

So, finally, I thought I will venture out to get a few things, drinks most especially because even in the Netherlands I hardly ever drink tap water and probably some snacks.

Once again, I failed to be inconspicuous, I had a hat on, that was obvious enough, then a jacket, a day cravat and the apparent immobility of air travel left me seeking the security of my cane for support.

Help provided

The concierge had the good heart of having someone take me to the supermarket and show me where the nearest metro was and so we went for a walk.

My hotel or inn as it is called is on a quiet street, it even has a green quadrangle that I saw people picnicking on from my 1^st floor window, on reflection, it probably was as idyllic as you will find a place in New Delhi.

We stepped out and turned a corner and the aromas and odours of New Delhi first hit me and then the people. Many people; looking with interest and some even shouting out greetings that I acknowledged gently without being too forward.

Babel of India

By the time we got to the main street, I suddenly realised people do not use the pavements but walk in the streets, horns blaring to a cacophony I once remembered was redolent of Lagos, decades ago.

Then this boy who apparently shines shoes latched unto me speaking one of the 10 or so Babels of India without pause for breath with sign language to boot; cupped fingers to mouth as he appeared to plead for my custom. No amount of shooing off by myself or my chaperone seemed to work until he realise I just would not budge and then he left.

I thought I will walk around a Wall Mart type supermarket considering the India government recently passed an order allowed for a chunky ownership of department stores – it was what you might call a kiosk than a corner-shop since you could not step in. You had to know what you wanted or be giraffe-necked to look around – I doubt I got much of what I wanted, c’est la vie.

A strained neck

After shopping, we walked further down towards the metro, I, heart in mouth thinking I was going to be run over, my chaperone literally oblivious of the precarious state I thought I was in. The rickshaws and car hustling and bustling, people walking in front of moving cars as if they were not there – it was a pace of life I had not seen in a long time.

As if to bring me back to earth, I could see signs of encroaching Western capitalism, the shopping streets had various hoardings on the electric poles but the one that stuck out the most was, “If you cannot keep our jobs, don’t take them away.” Others referred to the boarding up of shops and actions that usually affect small businesses.

Massaging a bargain

Then, I had to be alert to the fact that you might be offered all sorts of stuff on the street, all looking like a deal that you honestly do not need even if it is cheap. Yes, I was offered a 64GB USB stick for a European pittance and though it looked like a deal, the honest truth is, I did not need it.

It took a while for me to make myself clear and as we turned off into a quiet street my chaperone went through the exhaustive pains of showing me a massage parlour. Somehow, tourists that have visited before me must have given the impression that we are all sex-starved, sex-crazed and sex-addicted looking for a quick rub down. I really had to shake my head vigorously.

Soon we were back at the inn and what is normal to them had me looking all melodramatic – now thinking of that main road, though India drives on the left, I could for the life of me decide what side they were driving on – chaos simply defines the order of things on the road.

Incredible India: The Journey

Loyalty pays

My journey to India was wonderful, the morning started easy with the help of a friend who gave me a lift to the airport and his friend helping me ensure that I checked-in properly.

I could understand that many people like good flight deals but I have in most cases tried to build a sense of loyalty to one carrier or retain the services of airlines in the SkyTeam alliance.

I cannot say the alliance has the most exotic airlines but it offers decent global coverage if I do need to travel the globe. Most importantly, you accrue air-miles over a period of time that could come in useful.

Having more or less travelled around Europe a couple of years, I had accumulated just enough air-miles to travel in maximum comfort to New Delhi – basic lesson – loyalty pays.

Between speed and lift

This allowed me to have priority check-in, jump queues at the customs and then decide if I wanted to board early or late.

The aircraft was a 747-400 and somehow the seating plan on the website did not match the reality; I had booked an upper deck window seat towards the back but found that my seat was on the aisle in the front.

The window seat was not occupied, so I changed seats and caught a good view of events air-side.

We were to take-off at 11:00AM but there was a slight delay and a queue of 7 planes in front of us apart from the fact that we were taking the runway furthest from the airport, the taxi seemed to go on interminably.

When we finally took off, I was surprised to read the land speed was just 198mph (319km/h) to lift the jumbo jet off the ground. I had always thought a lot more speed was required.

New Delhi was just about 4058 miles (6530 km) for a journey duration of just less than 7 hours. The food was nice, the service very friendly, I started on the Steve Jobs biography and even got to watch the Harry Potter the Deathly Hallows Part I and almost all of Part II before we ready to land.

We are mosquitoes

The seat could recline to 170 degrees and really it was not as bad people made it out to be though there was a time I looked up and the flight tracking system showed an altitude of 0ft with almost a thousand miles to go, I did not think Boeing aircraft had altitude issues because that reading came up more than once.

As just before we got to India, we had to fill in forms and the cabin had to be fumigated which gave me such serious irritation that I almost coughed my guts out – this is a requirement for all flights arriving in India, I was on the verge of asking for oxygen as I gasped for air, but soon I was fine.

Easy through but waiting long

When we landed, I got a ride to the arrivals gate and by the time I got to baggage retrieval, my luggage was already on the carousel. Stepping out into the arrivals hall, I saw my name but I had to wait another 70 minutes for the other expected passenger before we left the airport.

My hotel is nothing like I have been accustomed to but it will suffice. We are in Incredible India.

Thought Picnic: A New Chapter - The Voyage

It starts

The journey begins and for me, it is one of a lifetime, one in which I will be moving completely out of the time zones that I have resided in all my life, one in which I am laying foundations for a future, one in which change will bring greater change and amazing adventure.

It is not a holiday, it is work; from Monday I will actively be doing 8-hour days of study for 6 days a week for 26 working days to prepare myself for the market in 2012.

All this in planning for less than a month but with a determination that can only have been divinely inspired, amazing favoured by men and encouraged by many that wish me well.

Incredible India

I set off to India, it was desire originally hatched over 2 years ago but one I could never have physically been able to do because that was when my health was failing and it did deteriorate to a point that I was literally within weeks of demise.

But I was lifted up and given a new lease of life and I have many to thank, my God, my doctors, my nurses, my friends, my well-wishers and many others whose thoughts and prayers have girded me up.

I now know that nothing works like an idea whose time has come, despite the obstacles and the hurdles, many that easily allowed for despair, discouragement and disappointment but all of which we can with the right mind-set refuse to give opportunity to become the main narratives of our lives.

So, my friends; keep me in your thoughts and prayers on this part of my odyssey. Thank you.