The scene was probably comical to any onlookers. The three girls from our staff dashed around the store, holding up every conceivable shape and form of blouse, scarf, dress, and fabricky item. So many colors, so many patterns, so many shapes…how is an American man to decide? They pointed me this way and that, like a whirlwind. They read my body language for a reaction, quickly determined which colors I liked best, and narrowed my choices. They found some beautiful items for Avery, and we all oohed-and-awwed. You would’ve thought they’d been trained as personal shoppers.

The clerk muttered something to one of them in Hindi and pointed to his watch; it seemed the store was about to close. The girls waved him away as they continued to find more goods for me. And when I would decide on something, Aruna would snatch it out of my hands and hold on to it for me so that I could remain focused on the task at hand; her arms were filling quickly.

The store lights began to switch off as we approached the counter, but we were undeterred. They scoured the store for more items of interest, and we dropped additional purchases on the counter even as the clerk was tallying the rest. The girls were discussing something at length with the clerk in Hindi, but I never understood much more than a request to the back room for “bubble paper”. We came away from the store with three full bags, but I wasn’t permitted to carry them. The girls insisted on carrying them for me as we proceeded to a restaurant in a nearby shopping district.

Whew. That was fun.

From there, we took a cab to the primary retail district in Chandigarh, an outdoor mall with a wide open courtyard, not unlike some Western shopping centers. The staff had a specific restaurant in mind; they wanted a place where we could chat in peace. We sat down (along with Santhosh, who had now joined us) at a semi-formal Muslim eatery for a beautiful, tasty dinner. We exchanged rapid-fire questions for the next hour and a half; about family, God, the US, India, vacation spots, hobbies, and food. Wonderful conversation. They were curious about my life; I was curious about theirs. It’s fascinating to me that our shared work in the sterile, high-tech world of IT has given us common ground to build friendships that would never otherwise exist.

I have only begun to understand their lives – their joys and challenges, hopes and fears – but I am already fascinated and enlightened.

(Sorry, haven't had time to download more photos. Will post more soon.)

It’s perhaps a little amazing how quickly things can begin to seem normal. I find myself thinking less and less about the crazy traffic, the unusual sights and smells, even the poverty has begun to seem normal. I have to remind myself that I and my host are the only caucasians I’ve seen since I left the Delhi airport.

Much of that is due to the deeply gracious nature of the dear people I’m training this week. They have been a joy to work with. (They also order very good food for lunch!) So it has been easy to fall in as part of the family…well, at least until they start whispering to each other in Hindi!

I think it also has to do with the fact that I’m thrilled by their ability to absorb the training. Eight months ago, I taught them the basics of these same topics over Skype, and all parties involved found it frustrating to effectively communicate, the disconnect resulting from the culture, the distance, the language.

So – with the exception of distance – I anticipated encountering the same issues face-to-face. But today, they nearly ran circles around me. The technical lead asked questions I had planned to avoid for sake of simplicity. When we started trying out some website code, they were the ones finding my mistakes. Conversation has flowed comfortably and easily.

The realization here for yours truly – the sheltered American suburbanite – is the fact that it has been possible to forge real relationships despite a number of expected obstacles. The staff has been a true encouragement and a blessing, and I’m thrilled to count them not only as business acquaintances, but as friends.

On to the photos...

Vendor at the local street market.


School bus of business students. The business school is in the same building as our offices.


Breakfast!


Some night shots from the street.





The place we went for dinner...

...where they served Sanjeev, Kevin and I an enormous variety of BBQ items.




Shots out the car window on the way to work in the morning.







This is how many women ride on the back of scooters/motorcycles. Occasionally with a child squeezed in between her and the driver. Helmets are required by law...well, except for women and Sikkhs (turbans get in the way).






Not a great shot -- saw it too late -- but that's a barber shop set up under that tree.


















A school/day care.


A produce vendor right by our office.


A shot from the roof of our office building.


Lunch at the office!

Today is the first full day of training with the staff. We just finished a glorious (to me), typical (to them) Indian lunch, and are about to start our afternoon session.

Here's our group photo, taken first thing this morning, when everyone was "fresh"!



l-r: Santhosh, Clay, Sanjeev, Nagma, Manew, Manisha, Aruna

I’m sitting on the bed in my room in a guest house in Chandigarh, India. Two men are here in the room. One is dressed in white, with a beard and a turban. He goes by “Captain Mann”. He owns the place. The other speaks no English, but has been my singular contact thus far. Attempting to hold mildly complex conversations with him (such as, “what is the code for your wireless router?”) has been, well, complex.

Anyway, the Captain has stopped by to make sure my stay is pleasant. I mentioned something about the lack of water pressure in my shower (I bucket-bathed this morning…sorry, TMI), and before I can blink, the Captain barks out a command in Hindi and the two of them have sprung into action to fix it. Really, all I want to do is eat and fall asleep, but I suppose a working shower in the morning will be worth the inconvenience.

Once they leave, I’ll Skype home, and will see and talk with my girls as if they’re in the next room. Except they’re 10,000 miles away.

Such is the wild incongruity of this world. Three-legged dogs roam the streets and howl at night. Vendors, cab drivers, and delivery men pilot decrepit, rusty vehicles. The traffic – from large trucks to spry compact cars to scooters to horse-drawn wagons – dance and spin around each other, honking and flashing, with only inches to spare, but never (well, rarely) touching. Meanwhile, much of the new business here is precisely that: new business. High-tech global companies have taken up residence in the midst of howling dogs.

So I’m here.

Travel was easy, really. The plane flight got a little tedious – and strangely claustrophobic after all that time in the air. But it was a comfortable flight, and I had some great conversation with an Indian science teacher from Buffalo who describes herself as “a fan of Jesus”.

After waiting nearly an hour for my bags, and another twenty minutes for my ride, Kevin and his family arrived to begin our five-hour trek up to Chandigarh. They were returning to Chandigarh themselves after a weekend touring the Taj Mahal and other sites.

So I crawled into the back of their rented minivan, while the driver climbed onto the roof, stomping around as he tied my suitcases to the luggage rack. The air wasn’t hot, but it was stifling, humid, smog-filled. Our minivan was parked in a puddle, and mosquitoes buzzed about the back of the van. Why again did they advise me against malaria immunization?

In a world of aggressive drivers, I believe we may have had the fourth-most aggressive driver in all of India. I say that because I counted only three times the entire trip where we were passed by another vehicle. The rest of the time, we honked and flashed our way past (barely past!) every other vehicle on the road. It was four in the morning, and I think the driver wanted to see his wife and kids.

But somehow, we eventually found our way into the side streets of Chandigarh, to a pleasant little guest house. I unpacked, pulled the drapes, and settled in for a night of sleep right as the sun was starting to emerge.

More later. And now for some photos...


I made it.


Taxis as I waited for Kevin.


A "truck stop" where the driver stopped on the way up to Chandigarh.


Our vehicle.


My first Indian bathroom. At the truck stop. Kinda seedy.




The back of our vehicle.


My room, angle #1.


My room, angle #2.


Awww! I found a stowaway in my suitcase. Sweet Avery.


My bathroom in the guesthouse. (Sorry, this will be the last bathroom shot, I promise.) Dare you to find the toilet paper. So thankful Karen had packed me extra kleenex.


Shots from my balcony, overlooking Chandigarhian rooftops.







A strip mall. They're all three stories tall, and filled with the most random selection of businesses.


Like this one for instance. The Indians have apparently figured out the secret to "height increasing". Or maybe that just reflects the communal desire of a country filled with a lot of petite people.


"In all of our hearts, Coca-Cola". (According to Narinder, Kevin's Sikkh business associate.)




The building where Global Pueblo has their offices.



Vendors directly across the street from the office.


My first session with the staff. From left-to-right, Santhosh, Manisha, Nagma, and Aruna. (Better picture tomorrow. Manisha didn't want to take one at the end of the day...she wanted one fresh in the morning!)


Sanjeev hard at work, trying to solve a problem for Emily Carr. (Thanks, Emily.)