and the builders said, "Let there be slab", and there was!

The photos that you see here are the reflections of my amazement at the difference between the state of affairs on the School building site yesterday (Monday) and this morning.

At 9.30am yesterday, we had our own private swimming pool in the front driveway. By 3.00pm yesterday it was raining tigers and elephants (as you can see from the photo, the rain is far too heavy to be dignified by something as insignificant as "cats and dogs"). By 9.30am this morning, there was "slab"! The premix trucks had been on site since 5.00am (along with Raju, who took his leave to go home and change when I arrived) and the lads were finishing off with some mixing and dumping of their own. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but I have been watching the work proceed in such a low tech way up to this point (the photos on facebook with the guys using a waterfilled piece of plasticised piping for measuring levels are instructive here), that the difference in the scenes I was witness to yesterday and today was indeed amazing.

will wonders never cease?

Was it was only yesterday I was writing about Mr Determined Avoider? Walking in the park this morning with Omar (we are going to do great things for ourselves and the ordinary people of Kerala through good management, he says) and who should be heading in our direction but the man himself, Mr Determined Avoider! A good friend of Omar, he greets him warmly and I am drawn into that warmth through association. For the next 5 passings today it was a friendly smile on each occasion. No sign of Soolaimon or the minister this morning - a bit wet perhaps?

Arrived at the office this morning to find a swimming pool in the front driveway and no slab on the first floor at the back of the administration building. Looks like mother nature won this round - there was determination to pour the second half of the first floor concrete slab yesterday (Sunday) and the lads worked through on Saturday in the rain to that end. I guess it must have rained further on Saturday night and yesterday it also rained intermittently. That being said, the lads are still positioning the steel reinforcement rods, so perhaps they weren't as ready as they had thought. Time for emails and such now.

a day of bits and pieces

I was planning on writing this as soon as I got home from my walk this morning, and had had my breakfast (only two plain dosa this morning; there was no masala dosa to be had at the Imperial for whatever reason, but see more on this below), because I had a lot to say and didn't want to forget any of it but the day has gotten away from me as I have variously dipped into emails, tidying up the blog, dealing with facebook, doing some ironing washing and tidying up (yes there are some residual housekeeping skills remaining), and so I come to the blog now at two in the afternoon and the task covering all that I want to say today still before me. Let me explain.



As I sit in front of the laptop with the blank space within the blogger frame staring back at me, I'm driven to try and grab onto the million images and thoughts flashing through the brain as I attempt to put some form and order to the kaleidoscope of experience that each day here is. What to include? What to leave out? How to order and interpret it? I could write book chapters on the wearing of the mundu (and the times that I have effectively walked out of mine, once in the street as I recalled last week and again last night, fortunately as I walked in the door of the apartment, much to Ajith's amusement), on the complete lack of order in the traffic (with everyone trying to get into and out of the same spaces at the same time, the pecking order of bus, 4WD, larger car, smaller car, auto, motorbike, pushbike, pedestrian notwithstanding), and on the contrasting sense of relative peace and calm that characterises my walks in the park. With the enormity of this task now pervading my consciousness, I begin where I left off on Friday night, before the power outage finally took all my laptop battery power).

I realise on reflection that the list I left on Friday night is fairly complete, if sparse, and so I add only a few more points, more for the sake of clarification:

After only a passing nod with Soolaimon on Thursday's walk (he was busy doing his "lung filling" exercises), I was confronted on Friday by a veritable cast of thousands (including Omar, Mohammad), introduced by Soolaimon (I got the correct spelling for his name this morning when I finally presented him with my business card and he proffered his in return; I promptly lost his card from my back pocket when I was paying for the dosas). Soolaimon (Solomon) joked that he was "father" to my Daoud (David), his own biblical reference when in our discussion we noted we are all "children of the book".

A common theme to emerge from conversations, whether with Soolaimon, our retired protestant minister, or our Sikh friend Amarjit (whose store I visited yesterday, see below) is that much more could be done in Kochi (and Kerala and India more generally) if it weren't for the corruption of government at all levels, as reflected in the poor quality of the infrastructure. For example, there were many more walkers in the park, so they all said, before the park was dug up to run an oil pumping and refuelling line to and from the harbour. The park is now dirty and, indeed, "dug up" (as earlier photos show). The work has been going for a year and there appears to be no end in sight. Other work being done in the park as part of a beautification programs suffers from the continuing construction work and, in any event, is itself shoddy (as loose slabs and mortar filling is pointed to, by way of further example).

I noted that Thursday's walk was more ennervating than energising, as a result of the strength sapping humidity. Friday's walk and yesterday's perambulation were less so, with higher cloud cover and the occasional whispers of wind contributing to the natural cooling processes. Today started off like Thursday, but with a fairly consistent light wind, it was an interesting mix until about half way through my three laps of the park, when it began to rain, moving fairly quickly from intermittent drops to heavy drizzle (light rain?). I learned this morning the difference between the heavy monsoons (from June to August) and the light monsoons (from September to November). I think the two are defined by how quickly one is drenched to the bone - with the heavy monsoons, this can happen within one hundred metres; while it rained consistently this morning, I still had patches of dry t-shirt under my arms by the time I arrived back at the apartment.

I wrote earlier about my classification of the different types of walkers one meets on the circuit. On Thursday, I met the archetype of the "determined avoider" - walking in opposite directions on my three laps, we passed each other six times; six times he was eyes down and "I know you're there but I'm not looking!" I continue meet up with examples of the other types fortunately - the gang around Soolaimon, for example, are very much enthusiastic greeters - and for them and their smiles, I am grateful.

Things are happening in the KIBS sphere of influence (we have moved to cement our name as the Kochi International Business School and have won approval from the ERNET organisation for registration of the kibs.ac.in and kibs.edu.in domains, which will place us very firmly in the correct domain context for our institution, program offerings and research aspirations. We have all the joys and jitters of a start-up organisation, especially in terms of the multiskill requirements, driven by the "broadbanding" of job responsibilities. Yesterday, I got to be branding expert, sign writer, graphic designer, corporate strategist, IT guy and CD burner, often all at the same time. We're sorting out our web design, hosting and general marketing strategy at the same time as the building work is taking place (I hope they don't ask me to live up to my name as "foundation dean" and start digging :-); the photos on my facebook site show an interesting interpretation of what passes for Occupational Health and Safety regulation here in Kochi, so I'm not interested in climbing on the load bearing pillars either). It poured rain on Friday afternoon but because the next part of the first floor slab has to be poured on Sunday, the boys worked through it without complaint. Yesterday they were very close to all the necessary steel reinforcement being in place (all individually wired, rather than being brought in by crane - this is a very low tech approach to building and construction).

We're looking at a kind of "pilot testing" of our promotion program and so it looks like I'm off to Mumbai and Pune when I come back from Phoenix in November - we're seeing if we can coordinate our web site, advertising, travel and presentation/meeting itineraries on a small scale before we do the big push in the January to April period. All the advertising by the business schools and IIMs at the moment is focussed on the CAT (Common Admission Test) to be held on 18 November (it is held only once per year for the following academic year, beginning in June). The advantage of the GMAT, of course, is that it can be done at any time during the year. I hope this also means that, once the other schools have exhausted their advertising budgets, our own advertising will take place in a relatively uncluttered context.

I wore the mundu to work on Friday and again yesterday - it was too hot to do otherwise and it is certainly much cooler than wearing trousers. Having been tutored by Able in the proper "dressing" of the mundu, I haven't had too much trouble keeping it on, whether getting up after sitting down for extended periods or getting in and out of the auto or cars. I can do a passable imitation of hooking it up above my knees for walking (and, of course, keeping it out of the mud on the rainy days), but I also have to be conscious of being seen to be the Dean (as Raju would put it), so I guess I will wear it less often than I would prefer.

At the same time, my continuing diet of chappathi, with a variety of vegetarian sauces continues to make a contribution to the weight loss stakes (not to mention my blood sugar, which has been consistently under 5.0 for the last three weeks) but I have to confess that I'm naughty with tapioca chips and straws, and Cadbury's Fruit and Nut chocolate from time to time. Have only had a couple of glasses of wine, once, in the last several weeks (at the Grand Hotel at dinner with Freeda and Ajith last Sunday evening). As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I bought a bottle of Grovers cabernet shiraz about a week and a half ago, but it's still sitting on the shelf in the kitchen waiting to be opened.

Last night on the way home from the office, Ajith and I dropped in to visit Mr Amarjit Singh of JK Enterprises in his Banerjee Road store to keep a promise I had made to him earlier in the day when we were walking in the park. Mr Singh was a most gracious host, giving us a tour of the store and then offering us tea and biscuits, as he showed us the photo of him and Manmohan Singh (Prime Minister of India and a relative, but he doesn't tell that too much to people because he doesn't want a long line of petitioners taking up his time). It turns out that we (KIBS) bought our board table at Mr Singh's RoomScapes store, so unbeknowns to me, we already had a relationship!

Jill asked me what I was doing for cooking here and my answer to her probably bears repeating:

Cooking is shared between the Imperial Restaurant (across the road), Gokul (much better food, but a 25 minute round trip walk away) and Fry's (nearby the School for lunch). Breakfast costs 12 rupees (plain dosa) or 15 rupees (masala dosa); lunch is 38 rupees (veg masala and 3 chappathi) or 54 rupees (veg biryani and 1 litre bottle of water); dinner varies between a mixture of chilli gobi, gobi masala, veg curry, with chappathi, roti or naan (60 to 100 rupees). Noting the 35 rupees to the Oz dollar exchange rate, I don't think I need worry about cooking for a bit :-)

That being said, neither the Imperial's owner nor his son, Prajid, were to be seen this morning and so I had to negotiate with one of his non-English speaking colleagues. Given my sodden appearance from the rainy walk, the lads were hesitant but I was confident that this would be a straightforward "Masala dosa parcel, please". So far so good, but now the boys had a problem - no masala for the dosa (we worked this out in a series of words equally unintelligible to each other - mine in English, his in Malayalam). We resolved the matter straightforwardly though by my simply requiring two plain dosas, which I greedily devoured on returning to the apartment.

Ajith just dropped in with a friend of his who is looking to do business in Kochi (I was sitting here in mundu, Scotsman style, when they arrived, not anticipating seeing him until 4.30pm (an hour later) when he is coming to pick me up for church. It is a good example of the difference in the sense of what is "privacy" between Australia and India - it didn't occur to Ajith that he might call before he came over; they were nearby and he wanted to introduce me to his friend. I really like Ajith, especially his quiet graciousness and his wonderful, dry, understated sense of humour. As we struggled through the traffic on MG Road last night, Ajith explained that the crush was the same every Saturday night, as people tried to get to the movie theatre for the latest release. Last night the movie was "Chocolate". Next week, Ajith said, the movie would be "Eclair"! Spurred on by my chuckling response, he listed the next four weeks' movies as Dessert, Coffee, Tea, and Sandwiches (not everyone's "cup of tea", but those who know me would be nodding at my enjoyment of Ajith's punniness).

Now it's time to get ready for church.

Friday already? It can't be ....

Here we are at Friday and the end of my third week here in wonderful India, and I've lost my first day! As we got into the car to head home last night, I enquired of Raju "It's Thursday tomorrow isn't it?" "No", he replied in his typically direct and perfunctory way, "Today is Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday". "No", says I, "Today's Wednesday, surely". But he was right. Somehow, as I've worked between 7am in Columbus Ohio, midday in Bradford, 2pm in Qatar, 4.30pm in Kochi and 9pm in Sydney each day, I lost a day! I'm still trying to work out how it happened but, well, anyway .....

So here I sit, at 9pm on Friday night, Kochi time, just about to run out of battery power 'coz I left my adaptor back in the office in my rush to get to the optometrists to pick up my new specs (not too bad at all if I do say so myself) and trying desperately to make a note of the things I want to talk about here before they're lost in the fog. Dear reader forgive the following summary, typed as my own aide memoire, to be filled out prose like on the morrow:

only suleiman yesterday on the walk, busy doing lung filling exercise

today a cast of thousands, introduced by suleiman (noting me as his "father", Daoud, in a biblical reference as we noted we are all children of the book)

walked with our minister who shares suleiman's views about the corruption of government at local and state level, reflected in the poor quality of the infrastructure

the parks' been dug up to run an oil pumping and refuelling line to and from the harbour; been going for a year and no end in sight (seems everything's been going for a year, when it's been going on too long)

yesterday's walk ennervating rather than energising - strength sapping humidity

no minister tomorrow, he's going to TVM (Trivandrum) tomorrow.

met the determined avoider archetype yesterday - six passes and six eyes down, I know you're there but I'm not looking!

things happening, but slowly in the office

interesting take on OHS here given by photos on the facebook site

looks like I'm off to mumbai and pune when I come back from Phoenix

wore the mundu to work today - too hot to do otherwise

poured rain this afternoon but because the next part of the first floor slab has to be poured on sunday, the boys worked through it without complaint

continuing diet of chappathi, with variety of veg sauces continues to go good on the weight loss stakes but I'm naughty with chips from time to time

and now the battery runs out

Salaam aleikum and peace be with you

I use these time honoured Muslim and Christian greetings by way of introduction to today's blog to reflect the two experiences I had this morning, one after the other, while walking in Subash Park at the end of Hospital Road.

I've been remiss in the last couple of days getting to the blog, being in the midst of a veritable hive of activity as we got haircuts, portrait photos (this is the new photo here - Raju was heard to exclaim "Now, you look like a Dean!"), visited the printer and developed new letterhead and business card designs, based on the new logo, and continued to wrtie copious and lengthy emails to manage across the 16 time zones that I currently have to accommodate in my different activities. Rather than dwell on the last couple of days, though, I want to share this morning's discussions, where my two new acquaintances and I waxed philosophical.

The first half of my walk around the park was punctuated by meeting up with a group of "older gentlemen" who were very much in the "enthusiastic greeter" group that I described the other day. After shaking of hands and "welcomes" and "mornings" and "where are you froms", I set off in company of one of the group who was keen to share his views and seek mine on a range of issues. Having established that I am in the "deaning" business and he in the optometry business (along with businesses in building maintenance and, locally, a series of land holdings), my companion asked about family, whence I explained that Kerry, Fi and Luke are staying in Sydney for the time being. He then detailed the wife and family he has in Dubai (where he has the one of the optometry outlets) and the "Kerala wife" he has here in Kochi. When he identified himself as Muslim, I proffered "salaam aleikum", to which he returned "aleikum salaam"

He went on to extoll the virtues of having a good woman with whom one can share the joys and the sorrows ("swing your arms, sir; it will get the heart pumping and the blood flowing better"), instead of womanising and whoring (he stopped before he mentioned the demon drink, whew!). He then asked what I thought of Kerala and I was more than happy to tell him how wonderfully warm and welcoming have been all the folk I have met here in "God's own country". My response was quickly followed by an inquiry as to how I find the infrastructure and, at my hesitation, he interposed, "It's poor, isn't it". "That's because there is so much corruption" he added. Without commenting directly, I said, "Well, it's certainly variable" (which, indeed, it is; parenthetically (which is a great word to be able to use in parentheses), Jayaraj later told me on our auto ride to the office, rather dismissively, that the holes in the middle of Hospital Road outside the mighty Imperial Restaurant were first dug about 12 months ago - even he sounded a little frustrated at the length of time it is taking to do whatever work it is that they are doing).

My companion continued to extol the virtues of the walk round the park and the good health that we are blessed with and we have a duty to maintain (including getting rid of the fat; said meaningfully as he looked down at my midsection, which I duly patted to signify I understood his reference). I noted the recent end of Ramzan and he replied with a detailed description of the daily refraining from food and water, together with the strong sense of oneness with the poor that the feelings of hunger and thirst bring about. And so it was time for us to part company as headed off for his breakfast and the office, while I proceeded on my next circuit.

At this point I began walking alongside another cheery greeter who, it turned out, has been living in Kochi for the last four years after retiring as protestant minister (due to a heart condition and bypass operation). "And which organisation are you with brother?" "I'm a Catholic sir, and you?" "Oh, I'm a Protestant" "Well in that case", (says I, much to David White's vehement disagreement I'm sure), "we're both Christians - we share the same God and the same Jesus". "Indeed, we are brother. With our Jewish and Muslim brothers and sisters, we are all children of the book. We just disagree on a few parts. Really, it makes administrative sense", he continued, "there are too many people for just one organisation".

"And what brings you to Kochi?" "I am Dean of the Kochi International Business School, in Pullepady Cross Road. We're just constructing the School now and we'll take our first group of students in September 2008". We talked about God's plan for each of us, the purpose for which we are on the planet, and how our respective lives had brought us to this point where we were sharing the walk together. My friend certainly gave me pause to reflect on how I could see my life experiences unfolding in way that I am indeed in the right place for now. I had mentioned to him that I had sat in enough leather armchairs around the world talking with friends and colleagues about what should happen in places like China and India, and now it is time for me to respond to Gandhiji's challenge to be the change I wish to see in the world. I am better placed now to do so, as a result of all the past experiences, bad as well as good, trom which I have learned.

Again we parted company, with best wishes and promises to see each other on our succeeding walks around the park.

Today's philosophy lesson ended when I reached the Imperial and, with a big smile to Prajid, said "Good morning. Parcel. Dosa masala, please".

India according to Twain

"So far as I am able to judge, nothing has been left undone, either by man or nature, to make India the most extraordinary country that the sun visits on his rounds. Nothing seems to have been forgotten, nothing overlooked."

Mark Twain, from Following the Equator

Saw the above quote on trawls around the internet and thought I'd bring it to notice on the blog - for me it captures an insight in typical Twain style.

lazy Sunday afternoon .. (not really, but it's another good song title)

No walk today yet, but that's not a function of the weather. I was getting ready for same about 7.30am when Ajith rang to say his mother was unwell and he would have to visit her this afternoon when we had planned originally to go to the English language Mass. Instead, if I was ready by 8.30am, he would take me to the Little Flower Church on Perandoor Road, where I had attended the local parish priest's golden jubilee mass when I was here in August.

The Mass is in Malayalam and so I'm not able to join in fully, but after 50 years of on and off attending (albeit more off than on in recent times) the familiar rhythm meant that, at key points, I was able to recall the English equivalents and so be meaningfully present. The 8.35am Mass (as you might have guessed, dear reader, Ajith didn't pick me up until 8.45am and we weren't there until 8.55am, but that's alright said Ajith because it is only the priest's "speech" up to that point) is the children's mass (after which they have a compulsory two hour "sunday school" until about 11.30am). Leaving my sandals outside "God's house", as any self-respecting Keralan will do when visiting another's home, I sat, stood and knelt on the tiled floor near the door, about half way up the nave.

Given the language issue, and the fact that there was still 10 minutes of the priest's speech left after I arrived, I had time for reflection and took advantage of that time. At a time when much of the Western world is in the grips of a crisis of faith and church attendances are at historic lows, it was staggering to see an "ordinary" Sunday mass so well attended, with the (not small) Little Flower church overflowing (interestingly with men on the left side, women on the right and the children filling the middle section). Further, it was a congregation not merely in attendance but actively engaged in the service, focussed on the altar and the priest and ready to respond and/or sing as appropriate. It was the same at the English language Mass I attended (I can't remember whether it was the Infant Jesus Church, the St Francis Assisi Cathedral, or the St Mary's Basilica, which are all lined up along Broadway North behind the Police Commissioner's residence in the High Court district of Ernakulam) and I look forward to attending there again in the future.

After Mass we stopped at the Sarovaram Hotel on the Kochi NH-47 Bypass for breakfast and Ajith did his best to ensure I wouldn't need to eat for the rest of the day. He insisted I follow my (quite delicious) masala dosa with a rice cake and curry dish (I forget the name) which was equally yummy and then ordered a non-ghee based "small" dosa, with which to mop up the left over juices. Washed down with a couple of glasses of water and some very passable filtered coffee (properly served in stainless steel cups, and passed twice from the smaller to the larger before ingestion), I am now sitting here some five hours later with no interest in food, yummy or otherwise.

I was telling Ajith's wife Pria about his attempts to derail my dietary heroics on the short drive between their home (where we had dropped her off on the way to breakfast) and the supermarket across the road from the Little Flower church, and she had a good chuckle at that. While Ajith and Pria did their family shopping (or more properly, I think , while Pria did the shopping and Ajith "stood guard"), I had a chance to pick up some of the domestic items I'd been missing to date - dustpan and broom, tea towels, bath sponges, extra soap, and wash cloths - along with some more "snacks" (yes, very naughty of me I know, dear reader, but they're my only vice at the moment).

Another point in passing is that related to the language that I have mentioned several times previously, like Jararaj's "complaint" with the auto and the "parcel" description for take-away (which, of course, the Americans refer to, in turn, as "take out"). George Bernard Shaw once described England and America as "two countries separated by a common language". I'm of a view that today, apart from Australia, we certainly could include India as the third or fourth country in this troika or quartet. I saw today the sign outside a "hotel" (every where there are restaurants/cafes/eateries labelled as hotels, whether large or small and whether or (mostly) not they have accommodation) the sign advertising "Homely food". I've never thought of food as ugly before, but there you go - this place has "homely" food. I wonder how you determine the homeliness of food?

By now it was 11.30am and it was time to pick up the children from their Sunday school. This was duly done and, with Pria and children squeezed in the back of the Suzuki with my shopping (including the broom), it was back to Chez Lamond and for them to enjoy the rest of the day as a family. Ajith and Pria are, quite rightly, proud of their elder son and younger daughter, and this was reflected the breadth and brightness of their respective smiles. At Chez Lamond, it was waves, a quick trip up the stairs to the front door and inside to put away the shopping and slip into the mundu. Now at 3 o'clock that's probably enough from me for the day.

another walk in the park

It's just after 12.00 midday on Sunday and I've just returned from mass, breakfast, shopping and a brief family vignette with Ajith and his brood. Each of these is worthy of comment in turn (see the next post), but I want to go back to yesterday afternoon and my "other" walk in the park.

As I indicated in my last blog, I was miffed at the continuing rainfall, because I had planned to take another walk in the park yesterday morning as part of building up a 7am routine that would ground me for the day (and help me in my continuing battle of the bulge). It did stop later in the day and so I ventured out to take advantage of the clearing weather. The photographs here represent three parts of the walk.

The first photo shows that even the park isn't immune from roadworks of a sort, even during the rains - looks a bit like the street out the front of my place in Iyyattil Junction at the moment. The second photo is not what the rest of the park looks like! This is the Kochi harbour, which the park abutts and the pair of young lovers is a scene that is played out along the length of this wall, as they seek a space that is romantic and at least semi-private for their hour of togetherness.

It was along this wall that I ran into a family of four, with dad taking a photo of the rest of the family on his Sony Walkman phone. I offered my services as portrait taker for the whole family and, after a few false starts as I very quickly learned how to (and how not to) take a photo on dad's phone, left them with a family portrait of sorts. As they posed and checked the results, we chatted about my time in Kochi, as they were surprised to find I was not another tourist but, indeed, a bona fide resident. We talked about the problem with the mosquitoes and how big and pugnacious they are - dad said that the last time there was a real big problem the town fathers called in the army. He joked that, when asked why the army was brought in, the corporation head said it was so they could shoot down the mosquitos!

I continued on my walk round the park, out the top entrance and over to the ferry wharf for a sticky beak (those interested in the ferry photos will have to proceed to my facebook gallery for these) before returning along the outside of the park towards my original entry point. Along the way, I met up with my photo family, who were wonderfully warm in their recognition and smiles (well I guess I'm not that hard to pick out, heh heh) and offered ice cream like the ones they were each savouring. With a grateful no thanks and best wishes, it was time to stride out again and it was at the end of the park, outside the Cochin Electricity Board, that I happened upon the statue in the third photo.

This statue of Gandhiji was erected in 1997, in honour of the 50th anniversary of India's independence. I wondered at first if it was indeed him, as we are used to seeing representations of him with glasses in the west. The plaque alongside, though, reassured me it was Gandhiji. Please note that I use the term "Gandhiji" as an honorific term for Mohanas Gandhi, given his own preference for this title rather than "Mahatma" (or Great Soul). It also marked my halfway point on today's walk as I decided to continue exploring and headed up Durbar Hall Road instead of Hospital Road, which I had walked down (and returned along the previous day).

I stopped at the Mithra Mega Mart, to see what I could see and picked up a kilo of bananas for for 28 rupees or 80 cents (remember when bananas got up to $AUD12.00 a kilo in Australia last year?). The bananas, I might note in passing, were yesterday green and hard as a rock (I know, I was silly enough to try one in my impatience), but today already yellow and about half a day short of perfect (by tomorrow, I'll probably have to gobble or throw them out).

When I got back to MG Road (Mahatma Gandhi Road but, like everything here it is shortened) and passed the fine china store, I determined to go inside and purchase a nice mug for me and a guest (should one happen along) to take the place of the adequate but entirely too small mugs already in the kitchen at home (ah, I have moved from "the apartment" to "home"; I think I'm settling in!). Two final stops on the way home, at the Imperial to pick up some water and the Ernakulam Dairy and Ice Cream Parlour (I knew the ice-creams - one chocolate coated and one mango iced would get me!).

The evening was an uneventful one, albeit also an unhealthy one, as I eschewed the proper dinner of chappathi and tomato fry from the previous night (very yum!) for chips and water. I spent the time partly in front of the computer and partly in front of the television, before dropping into bed for a few pages of book and blissful sleep.

after fourteen days

Two weeks into my sojourn in India and I thought it timely to reflect on the last fourteen days for which I have provided mostly a series of day by day descriptions.

Before I do that, let me explain the photo appearing here, which I took on the way back from picking up my masala dosa parcel for breakfast this morning (not "take away" sir, but "parcel"). Stan had asked me the other day when we were skyping (will that be the new verb after "to google"?) what were the "blue crates" in one of the photos I have on facebook (the particular shot is from the corner of the junction and refers to the crates outside a shop just about opposite the might Imperial restaurant. I can now confirm, as I suspected, that the crates are milk crates and the shop in question is the Ernakulam Dairy and Icecream Parlour (I probably didn't need to know the latter - I'll be giving them a going over now).

With the umrellas up it's still raining tigers and elephants here in beautiful downtown Kochi. September to November is the "light" monsoon season and traditionally the rain has occurred only at night with the days bright and sunny. Last night and the night before, though, the rain bucketed down and it has been raining heavily most of this morning as well (it's just gone 11.00am here). Indeed, as I type there is an almost indignant increase in the amounts being tipped over us and the surrounds (almost as if Huey the weather god is saying "Yeh, what's it to you, kid?"). Ajith reckons that the climate has been changed since the tsunami of Christmas 2004 and, along with Raju, says you just can't predict what the weather will do anymore. What I do know is that I'm miffed at not being able to go for a walk in the park again today. Having made the determined effort to get back into the exercise swing of things, it's frustrating to be denied by the elements.

This leads me fairly neatly to my first observation about the last two weeks - the extent to which so many practices, resources, attitudes, rules and regulations that I have taken for granted for decades simply do not exist here (or at least exist in a form which is such a variation of the form to which I have been used, that they are largely unrecognisable). For example, when I was living in Melbourne in 2001, by driving around to the local malls, I was able to quickly populate the flat with all the necessaries (bed, iron and ironing board, crockery, cutlery, dining table and chairs, lounge and so on). I am not without transport here during the week, or access to the autos and so on during the weekend, but the reliance on others is not something to which I am used. On the way home the other night, Ajith kindly brought me to five different ATMs (all different banks) in an endeavour to secure some cash, but all to no avail. My debit card works in every other country in the world I have visited (even China) and yet I was not able to put some "readies" in the pocket.

On the other hand, it has been wonderfully rich and enriching learning experience, in the midst of a group of people who have supported me with a genuine sense of warmth and goodwill. They have been patient with my lack of local knowledge, my occasional frustration with the pace at which things happen, or don't happen, and tolerant of my "why hasn't, why can't, why isn't" questions that form part of this. The blog itself is a good learning experience as it gives me pause to reflect on each day as I write about it and garner my thoughts in more than just a descriptive way.

I look forward with a genuine sense of anticipation to the coming weeks and months - the various practices, resources, attitudes, rules and regulations will become more familiar to me, and I will continue to work in the midst of this welcoming, delightful group of people. So far, so good.

and after the rains, the water was upon the earth

Today was a day of bringing a series of disparate but related elements of the School's development to fruition and so I got to the end of the day feeling pretty satisfied with what we'd achieved. Along the way, the man from the State Bank of India brought my deposit book (how quaint!), cheque book, and ATM card to the office, so I'm now cashed up and cash accessible (those who know me know that I like to have what I call "walking around" money, just in case none of the cards I carry can be used for a purchase) and it's a good feeling.

I had hoped to get a haircut prior to my next visit to the photographer (for some more passport sized photos, as well as some portrait shots for the School promotion) and went up to the nearby International Hotel where the Olee Men's and Women's Beauty Salon is located (on the recommendation of Ajith and Raju). After 15 minutes of waiting one of the hairdressers politely informed me that I needed to come back at 6.30pm (it was just after 5.00pm when I arrived). Back to the office and more follow up combined with the "light" monsoon rains of October that bucketed down for several hours thereafter and I didn't make it back to Olee - perhaps Monday (tomorrow is a holiday, Mahanavami, so it's not going to happen tomorrow).

Raju kindly gave me a lift home and I invited him for us to wait out the rain before he headed home, so we shared a cup of tea and some light conversation before he decided it was time to brave the elements. Knowing the Imperial is open for business again, I decided in turn to head over for some chappathi and tomato fry to go with the chilli gobi that I had left over from last night. I got the food I wanted, but had to negotiate the flowing water that had resulted from the earlier rains as per the photo in the top of the blog (as you can see, others, including an auto rickshaw and a motorbike were keen to navigate the space between the entrance to the apartment complex and the bus parked outside.

Dinner finished and the dishes done, I'm watching Miami Vice (the Colin Farrell/Jamie Foxx version) while I type this evening's blog. It's getting to the drag 'em down, shoot 'em up par tnow so I might leave my blogging at this for tonight.

just a walk in the park

Last night on the way home from the office, Ajith and I stopped in to buy a map of India for the office and a map of Kochi for me. I've already put the latter to good use this morning on a 45 minute walk down Hospital Road to and around the Sabash Park, located on the harbour.

It has been my first real exercise since I arrived in Kochi and I must say I feel much better for having done so (although at the beginning my right knee was protesting vigourously against its use for this method of my locomotion; I wondered for a while how far I would get but the good news is that the further I went the less of a struggle I experienced from the knee).

I was struck by many things along the route (now there's a surprise) but the one I want to write about this morning is the similarity in the faces that we meet on such walks (I wished I had brought my camera with me but in its absence I will need to paint some word pictures instead).

As I said, the main reason I was impressed was because of the similarity in the demeanour and behaviour of the people that I passed to the people that I would pass walking or cycling around Olympic Park in Sydney. At either end of the spectrum were the archetypal opposites. The enthusiastic greeters, who cannot wait for you to make eye contact so they can flash you a smile and a hearty "Good morning" were in contrast to those opposites, who probably constitute two subgroups. One group, it seems, is determined not to make eye contact or acknowledge your existence as they walk or run past you. They have come to the park for their self-absorbed exercise and do not want to be distracted from the solitary experience. The other appears to be saying, yes I know you're there but you are an object to be scorned rather than engaged. I noticed this as a group of five men walked past, animatedly engaged in discussion. The eldest of the group was a "greeter" and we smiled and exchanged "mornings". The man at the centre of the group though, a Harbijan Singh lookalike (the non-cricket fans among you will have to investigate that one), looked past me with disdain as if to say "What are you doing interrupting my monologue and, indeed, what are you doing here at all?"

In between these extremes is the usual variety of people passing by - the uncertain greeters who, having been greeted, will return the greeting with varying levels of enthusiasm; the surprised greeters who, like the uncertain greeters, return the "morning" but with a sense of delight at the engagement, having not expected the greeting in the first place; the perfunctory greeters feel the need to say"morning", whether in response or initiating the exchange, but would probably rather not if they had their druthers. There were other characters too, along this spectrum but a more fine-grained distinction risks a level of complexity that distracts from the exemplars that those who have taken that walk in the morning will know so well.

On an entirely unrelated matter, the drive home was punctuated by a phone call from our IP consultant who confirmed our capacity to proceed with registering the Kochi International Business School, with "KIBS" incorporated in a logo designed in the office between Freeda and I, so there is now a firm basis for us to proceed with the raft of trademark related activities - another full and exciting day awaits.

a reflective moment

Before I get down to the serious business of the day, I am sitting in my office in (not self-imposed) darkness, without the lights, fans or air conditioning, using the time honoured "document as fan" method of cooling, and reflecting on this morning. Jayaraj arrived promptly in the auto and we joined the many heading in a thousand different directions down MG road (even though they're all supposed to be heading the same way). We chatted about Jayaraj's Australian friend Colin (originally from Melbourne and latterly of Perth) who has just arrived in Kochi, and the distances between Perth and my home town, Sydney (even more than from Trivandrum to Delhi, says I) - we had a little more time this morning because we were behind a lady in a red Suzuki who thought that the road rules still included the provision for a person to walk in front of the car carrying a red flag; Jayaraj and I agreed that she could probably get to where she wanted to go (across the road from the school as it happened) by walking.

I was given pause to reflect because I continue to be discomfited whenever I see the Hindu swastika symbol "appropriated" (to use a Fi word) by Hitler and his henchman as they spread their curse over the world through the 20s, 30s and 40s of the last century. More than 60 years on, it is still a potent symbol and I guess it will take a long time (if ever) before my immediate reaction is other than repugnance. This is more than merely ironic, when one reads the following:

"Swastik is normally believed to be an amalgam of the words Su and Asati. Su means 'good' and Asati meant 'to exist'. As per Sanskrit grammar the words Su and Asati when amalgamated into one word become Swasti (as in the case of Su and Aaatam becoming Swagatam meaning welcome). Thus, the literal meaning of the term Swastika would be 'let good-prevail'. Swastik is the sign of lord Ganesha and pyramids are embossed on it. This is an auspicious item to keep in the home to prevent it from evil eyes. It not only brings positive energy but also brings Good Luck to the person as well as remove all obstacles in all undertaking. From time immemorial the symbol of Ganesha , Swastik is being used as Luck Charm, i.e. It is believed where there is the Ganesha symbol, nothing bad can happen" (see http://www.rudraksha-ratna.com/swastikyantra.htm)

And so the rest of the day unfolds .....

a quieter more productive day

After last night's dinner by mobile light at 10.30pm, I wondered what awaited me today and, again, I wasn't disappointed. With power restored, I'd had a nice warm shower (don't want anything too hot to start the day), shaved and so on and was packed and ready to await Jayaraj's arrival. Indeed, I'd even found my way downstairs to stand by the car at 9am.

Jayaraj arrived with a rush and apologies at 9.10am in an auto-rickshaw. Turns out that, in addition to dropping me at work in the morning and working in the bike shop (I'll have to get in there and see what I can do in the way of some two-wheeled self-propelled transportation; it's been a while now), he owns and operates an auto-rickshaw! How about we take the autorickshaw, says I, as he's looking for somewhere inconspicuous to park the auto. Would that be alright sir? Preshnam ilya, I say in my best Malayalam (just about my only words of Malayalam, having made it a rule to learn how to say "no problems" in the local language as early as possible wherever I go). And so off we head in the auto to the school.

A most enjoyable ride, buffeted by the wind and noise (mostly the horn of every car letting every other car know it is surrounded) and a sense of being at one rather than apart. Having watched the autos dart in and out of the most precarious spaces (and sometimes lack of spaces) on the road, it was now my turn to experience that same darting and weaving from "inside" the cabin. If you have a look on the facebook website, you'll see the autos parked in the street outside the apartments.

I think we're "near as dammit" now in terms of our key branding tools - logo, IMBA prospectus, application, website - and so after yesterday's itinerary planning session, we've had the travel agent in for the first go at the detailed travel plan with flights, hotels and so on (the first trip looks like 6 cities in 2 weeks, before heading off to Phoenix for the DSI conference and then flying back into Mumbai for the next stage of the tour).

I had the man from the Indian Bank come back with the local branch manager and the sheaf of forms, the completion of which is prerequisite to opening of a bank account (a necessary thing before I run out of "readies"). The folks from the State Bank of India will come tomorrow (it's only taken a week for them to get back to me) and so I'll have a brace of accounts for different purposes. Meanwhile, the Australian wickets were steadily falling in the final of the 50 overs series, a day/night match in Mumbai.

Given last night's excesses, I thought an early night (at least in terms of leaving the office) was in order. Ajith let Freeda know I had an urgent meeting with the Australian cricket team and we both left at 6.30pm so that he could drop me at the apartment and head off to his own "meeting". An apple, a packet of chips (Lays Indian Masala), and a couple of cups of tea and I was ready for next posting. Raju arrived not long after to hand over an emergency lighting torch and a couple of spare light globes that we had discussed earlier in the day. With those installed to his satisfaction, he bade me a good night. So I sit here at 8.00pm now watching the Indian wickets steadily falling and feeling that all's well with the world.

Ever had dinner by mobile phone light?

We’ve all had dinner by candlelight at some stage – for romantic reasons, for blackout reasons, for fun reasons. And so it was that tonight, if I’d had candles, I would have had my chilli gobi, roti and naan dinner by candlelight. In the absence of candles though, it was dinner by the intermittent (auto shut off) light of my mobile phone. At first, my response to the lack of light when I arrived home at 9.50pm (yes, we’d had one heck of a day in the office, with matters prospectus, application, logo, roadshow itinerary and a host of other “bits” which would have been the substance of tonight’s blog otherwise) was simply to turn 180 degrees to the “power switch” that Raju and Ajith had only explained to me the night before.

This switch, to be used when there is a power outage, is to be turned 180 degrees also in an anticlockwise direction to provide a connection to the one fan and one light that would be powered by the back up generator. What Raju and Ajith had neglected to mention (or in fairness, probably weren’t aware of) was which light and which fan would work. As it happened, after some trial and error, I discovered that it was the fan in my bedroom, along with one of the lights there.

My thoughts were turning to a quiet series of handfuls of roti and gobi, naan and gobi, interspersed with gulps of water as I read The Historian (a book about vampires rather than historians per se but engaging nonetheless) and I had begun this, sitting on the bed with the various components neatly arrayed in front of me, when both the fan and the light expired. It seems that there is no guarantee of an extended period of one light and one fan.

I duly finished dinner, pressing phone buttons with one hand and gathering up the makings with the other, and sitting amused at the experience. I followed this with a big swig or seven of water (no light also means no fans), anticipating that I would now log on to the internet via my battery driven computer, to regale all and sundry (well at least you, dear reader) with this tale. But the tale doesn’t finish there – what now pops up from the Tata Indicom Dialer is the message that “The remote computer did not respond. …..”. Instead, I sit here on the bed typing a word document so that I don’t lose the flavour of this experience in the sleeping on it, with my fingers gliding over the keys lit only by the luminescence of the screen which is also reflecting these words to me.

Today is a day of things left undone – things at work, things at home, things on the computer. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to log on, upload and move on to finish some of those things. In the meantime, I guess there’s nothing else for it but to “shut down, turn off, until the morning light” (thanks to The Little River Band for that one).

Postscript: Next morning and power’s back on. It’s entirely likely that the extended darkness was my own doing – there’s a trip switch for the power that was, well, tripped; push the green button in and the lights (and fans) work, so I think my learning also has just been extended. Ah well, I’ll know for the next time.

discovering the new

A day of "discovery" today, as I ventured out of the School grounds for the first time to buy my own veg biryani from Frys, the local takeaway ("parcel") eatery nearby. A short walk but a big step in terms of gaining a sense of place. The next walk from the School must be to Spencers, the local supermarket, to get my bearings further grounded (Ria suggested she walked up and back on a fairly regular basis while she was here so, if nothing else, it will give me a chance for some exercise).

Again, I had spent much of the day working on aspects associated with the launch (centred on identifying an appropriate set of colleges to visit on the roadshow - Jeena had been particularly helpful with a "top colleges" list she had found on the net). The end of the day became something of a revelation, as Ajith, Raju and I sat together in my office and chatted through a number of issues related to the School, as well as some arrangements for the apartment and such. We have a new driver, Jayaraj, who will come to pick me up this morning at 9.00am.

And so we left about 6.45pm to head off to the apartment via Spencers and some fruit and snacks shopping. We also took a detour to a back street, where I joined the queue of a rather furtive looking bunch of characters who were at this shop to buy their weekly (daily?) ration of hard liquor, to purchase a bottle of the local Grovers cabernet shiraz (12%, "manufactured" on 25 July 07!) for 431 rupees (about $AUS12). I've had the Grovers before and it's a not unpleasant drop (read into that what you will), but when I think about the wine I can get at the bottle shop at Carlingford for the same price ...well! Anyway, it's now in the apartment and I may well drink it at some stage, although I didn't do so last night.

It was on the way to buy the wine we discovered that the Imperial was closed yet again! Ajith suggested that the roadworks captured in the photos on my facebook album were probably the reason (and we will not know then, when the reopening date will be). This proved a boon as we went to Gokul (according to Ajith, and with some justification as I was to discover, the best vegetarian restaurant in Kochi!), where I came away with a "parcel" of roti, chilli gobi and a mushroom fry. I washed this down with my usual water (I now have a 20 litre water dispenser in the kitchen, courtesy of Ajith and Raju) and a few more clicks on the computer. A good day!

the end or beginning of the week?

Sunday was a quiet day of sorts in light of the rest of the week, with most of the day spent at the computer working on what I hope will be the near final drafts of the School's IMBA prospectus and the associated application form, along with some minor changes to the website.

I had spent the day working on these bits and realised as the shadows were growing longer (and my tummy was beginning to rumble) that I had not yet had breakfast, no mind lunch, and that it was time to get some food (like summer in Sydney, the heat does not encourage an eating response; rather I tend to take in a mot more fluids, mostly water).

Ah, you say, but it's the 3rd day of Eid and our friends at the Imperial will not be open - and you'd be right (although it seemed like they were focussed on some overdue refurbishment work rather than the Eid celebrations). So I wandered further along MG Road, past the ATMs (one with a security guard at either entrance, which either says we're not worried about the efficiencies of an ATM, or we are worried about people's security when they've loaded up) and several other buildings, with the college sports ground on the opposite side, till I cam to a little vegetarian restaurant set back behind the "Airlines Hotel". I managed to take away what turned out to be a too fried veg biryani but very good chappathi with chilli gobi, so dinner was wholesome and filling.

Nightime was a little more interesting as we had a power outage in the middle of the night and people were ringing the watchman to see what was happening. That would have been fine except that I've discovered through this that the watchman's "office" is located just below my bedroom window and he has the ringer on the telephone such that it sounded like it was ringing inside my bedroom! It took a couple of very sleepy wanders about the apartment and finally a peek out the bedroom window to confirm that I did not, indeed, have a phone I didn't know about and to locate the source of the ringing.

And so here we are in the office and ready for the second week.

the end or beginning of the week?

Going through my blogs and drafts, I found the following comment and throw it into the mix accordingly:

"Sunday was a quiet day of sorts in light of the rest of the week, with most of the day spent at the computer working on what I hope will be the near final drafts of the School's IMBA prospectus and the associated application form, along with some minor changes to the website."

I spoke too soon ....

I spoke too soon in my previous blog for today, anticipating that that would have been enough to occupy the day.

I've been working away on various aspects of the School's program and its marketing, waiting for Kerry and Fi to get home from Italy. They're now home safe and sound and being yapped about by the puppies. It was good to know that they are back and that, apart from the abject failure of most of Italy to put on a disability friendly face (like Pompei, which was Fi's greatest wish and therefore her greatest disappointment when she was able barely to get off the tour bus and no further) that they had a good and worthwhile time (including a blessing from Pope Benedict, as a part of a Papal audience). At the same time, the contact reminded me about how much distance separates the family.

And so I wandered out into the street comfortable in my mundu, to see if there was any chance of getting something to eat. I walked out onto MG (Mahatma Ghandi) Road as part of the procession and was doing well until I realised that, as I was hooking up one end of my mundu, the other was coming undone. It wasn't that much of a show, but I did share a conspiratorial smile and a shrug with an old guy who was leaning on his bike watching me with some amusement. I decided that there was nothing else for it but to return to the ChicKing and try again, which I did. I managed to get me and the meal back to the apartment without further mundu mishaps and now it's back to the computer and the internet.

no such thing as "just another day"!

At two in the afternoon I don't know if there are any more excitements for this second day of Eid but certainly enough has happened already that it's time to get it down in the blog before I forget it. So I sit here with my mundu up around my knees allowing the breezed from ceiling fans to waft around and cool down somewhat while I type.

7.30am Raju promptly picked me up so that I could have my blood and urine samples taken and analysed for my local health insurance. We drove first to the EI (Endocrine and Immunology) Laboratory where, having handed over the princely sum of 25 rupees, blood was duly taken (and done very well I might add) and urine bottled. We were to return at 11.30am for the results! We then visited the Ashkaya hospital to confirm arrangements for the ECG and were advised to return at about 10.00am.

Raju dropped me back to the apartment, with plans to pick me up again at 10 and I took the opportunity to begin my photo diary with pictures of the apartment and its surrounds. As well as the shot here of the entrance to the complex, I've also got a whole bunch of photos on my Facebook website at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=5471&l=8e601&id=580793535 I also managed a load of washing which has been hung up in the laundry and should be dry by the end of the day, given the temperature (if the humidity doesn't keep the clothes moist).

Good news from the Graduate Management Admission Council (GMAC) that our application for GMAT Using School status has been approved and so we'll be able to advise the applicants accordingly as part of the prospectus process. It was also a reminder to our colleagues at MCI that we're on the case and serious about our approach to the student recruitment and selection process. Cleaned up some more emails and so was ready for Raju to take me on the next stage.

We drove over to the hospital, were ushered into the doctor who was told about our requirements and then sent for the ECG on the next floor up, via the cashier, where 60 rupees changed hands. I'm not saying the equipment was antiquated, but I used the same model of ECG machine (with the six leads and the squeezy suction cups) when I was working in Ward 30 at Rydalmere hospital in the early 1970s! Still the measures were duly recorded and we were off to pick up a sari for Freeda to wear to her friend's wedding on Monday, then pick up the EI results (normal for both! yay!) to take back to the hospital.

I had underestimated our doctor friend on the first visit. When he went through the results of the ECG he asked "Do you take medication for high blood pressure?". Yes says I and yes, I thought so says he, the results show signs of elevated blood pressure (not bad, eh!?). Turns out there were a bunch of other blood tests we needed to have done (Full Blood Count, fasting cholesterol, and so on) and he wouldn't sign off until these were done, so we were back to the EI labs again (fortunately, I hadn't eaten in the interim so we could still do the tests on a fasting basis). This time, we had to pay out 360 rupees for the range of tests to be carried out (for a total of 445 rupees in diagnostic tests for the day; those of you familiar with the current $-INR exchange rate will have already worked out that the cost is $12.50).

My new sandals, purchased with Ajith last Saturday evening (these were relatively expensive at the equivalent of about $30) had come apart at the seams and so we needed to drop back into the Bata store where they were exchanged (I had to write a note to say I had mis-placed the bill, but it was otherwise a straightforward and unargued exchange).

Now the fun part - as it is Eid and a public holiday and, it seems, all the usual restaurants are operated by Muslim families, they were all closed! I'd been hanging out for a meal by this stage and wondered what would become of me. Raju to the rescue and we arrived at a local hotel with a vegetarian restaurant, where I've had dosa with Jay and Ajith before. We eschewed the buffet and went for the banana leaf special. Kerry and I used to talk about the way in which our son Luke would get up close and personal with his food (ie get his hands into it) and now I was doing the same. Lots of red rice and a variety of veg sauces and condiments (along with the obligatory papadums) and I've been done for breakfast, lunch and tea! A delightful meal and no washing up!

I had wondered as I was coming in the apartment door whether I had started a trend with song titles as the label for my posts but I think that, after these experiences, there is no such thing as "just another day" in India.

... just another day in paradise

The title of the Phil Collins song sounded appropriate when I typed it for a range of reasons - each day is a new adventure and all my mates from OS all point to the websites that have them convinced I'm doing it "real tough"; on the other hand, as the photos I'm determined to get round to taking and displaying will show, it is a place of contrasts; further, today offered a series of reminders about what is different about where I am.

Today is Eid - the end of Ramzan/Ramadan and so is a public (government/bank) holiday. We worked throughout the day in the office and I had quite a productive time, especially in regard to clearing the backlog of emails that the move and settling in had created. We're getting closer to the completion of the prospectus, getting closure on the logo and sorting out the marketing plan for the next couple of months, so all in all a nice conclusion to the formal working week.

Raju gave me a lift home so that I could finish off any other outstanding bits and pieces and rest up for tomorrow morning's medical - fasting urine and blood tests and the proverbial ECG for insurance purposes.

I have come to the early realisation as to how quickly I had become a creature of habit in just the last week - because it's Eid and because my local eatery is operated by the friendly Muslim guys, The Imperial was closed! What to do for dinner? I had nothing in the kitchen (on the basis of the substantial and sustaining meal that I can usually get at the Imperial, why would I bother?) and so ....

When I was here in June working out whether this was the role for me, Raju had walked me round the corner to the "ChicKing" (yep, India's own KFC/Red Rooster in Macdonald's colours) one night on the misunderstanding that I was "hanging out" for this kind of food. Once we'd clarified my lack of interest in this, we'd gone back to the Imperial for a good biryani. Tonight though I was "thrown" by the Imperial being closed and so I ventured to the ChicKing. I contented myself that, because I was having vege burger I was more "pure" than I could have been, but it's still sitting on my stomach a couple of hours later and I suspect that's the last time I will visit. Again though, I was reminded that I was here, Kerry and Fiona are on their way back from Italy and Luke and the puppies are back in Carlingford keeping each other company. At once I had a strong sense of being alone and far away from loved ones.

I had a positive conversation on Skype with Jay after my bountiful repast and that brought me back to the present, but as I sit here typing, with Bruce Lee's "Enter the Dragon" playing out on the television in the background, I am moved to reflect again on .... just another day in paradise.

At the end of a perfect day (with apologies to Chris De Burgh)

And so, dear reader, I come to the end of my first week as a resident of India and, as I look round my Kochi apartment on a Thursday night at about 10.20pm my thoughts are "Yes, I can do this!" That's a yes, I can play a role with my colleagues in establishing a world class management research and education institution in Kochi in time for the first group of students in September 2008, yes, I can live here in India while I do so.

My observations to this point have been fairly evenly distributed between what's happening at the International Business School and the events either side of those activities here at "home" (I put the quotation marks here, not to say that I don't recognise this as home; rather it is a recognition that it is a bit early to use the term in an unqualified sense - for the uninitiated, this is the very annoying habit of an academic (some would say pedant) who tries for accuracy even at the sake of clarity and simplicity).

Anyway, I wanted to take this opportunity, at a time when the Indian Rupee is currently being exchanged at the rate of 35 for every Aussie dollar, to comment on my standard of living (at least in terms of purchasing power parity (PPP)). Earlier in the week, Ajith had kindly taken me to the shops for clothes, sandals and such and that was an interesting mix of incredibly cheap and surprisingly "expensive", although by the time I'd walked away with shirts, trousers, mundus, towels and such, I didn't feel at all burdened by debt.

Day to day living though, continues to stagger me. At the moment, it's Ramzan (Ramadan) and, because my local eatery (The Imperial) is managed by a very welcoming and friendly group of Muslim guys, I haven't been able to impose on them for breakfast (I'm getting up with the sun but, because the sun is up, no food is cooked) and so I've been skipping same (yes, naughty, I know). Lunch has been welcomed then with a delightful vegetarian biryani (basmati rice and vegetables) for about 41 rupees (you do the sums on the exchange rate). By the time I get home for dinner, our friends at the Imperial are waiting for me and so, as I reported last night, I trek across the "road" (I must get a photo of the current state of the space between my side of the "street" and where the Imperial is - well worth a shot) to place my order.

Tonight's dinner was a bit of a splurge, because I added a couple of chocolate coated ice-creams (at 10 rupees apiece) but the basic meal was the same as it has been during the week: vegetable marsala and 4 chappathi (31 rupees) and two 2-litre bottles of water (20 rupees each) (one bottle to drink and one to build up the stocks). Total cost for dinner, 71 rupees. On a normal night when I'm not being naughty with ice-creams, that's 51 rupees. At least it means that, when the time comes to splurge on the bottle of red wine that I haven't been having on the odd occasion, I should have enough rupees to be able to buy a reasonable drop (this is one thing where the PPP formula doesn't appear to operate).

Anyway, all in all a good week, a busy week, a week that augers well for what we want to achieve and how we plan to go about doing so.

Of matters ICT, IP and such

My most interesting day in Kochi so far! Freeda was having trouble getting the driver, the car and my apartment in the same geographic vicinity and so I had time to jot down this morning's overdue blog of the last couple of days.

Off in the car to the office and on the way I heard about the two gyms in Kochi - one that is being refurbished and not taking new members and the other "soft touch" (a fascinating name in an Australian slang context) that Freeda is considering signing up for. We had talked about swinging by for a look see this evening but by the time we left the office at 7.30pm other needs were pressing.

A good discussion with the account executive for our hosted website, that reinforced the positive feedback I'd received about the School's MBA prospectus, so we'll be able to provide a seamless link between the prospectus, the web site and promotional process for the program.

The IP front is more interesting as we play some "cat and mouse" with another organisation apparently offended by our existence, or at least the representation of our existence that is our trademark. Having spent some time in lawyers' offices over the years in relation to promotional material, matters of trademarks and so on, this was grist to the mill for me. We will play by the numbers for the time being.

I learned a lot today about asking the right questions of the people around me (although, of course, it's like many of those situations where the "right" question only becomes apparent after you've asked all the "wrong" questions and spent your time operating on a set of assumptions that had been given tacit acknowledgement only to find later that other assumptions were not only possible but more than probable).

We had been exploring an issue on the basis of what I thought were the clear ground rules outlined in earlier correspondence and I had been trying to find a way forward based on those ground rules, only to find that the "rules" were in the end on "respectful guidelines" and that many other interpretations were possible. The day was spent in good spirits though and so when we left the office, it was to smiles all round and an enthusiasm for the day to come.

When I got back to the apartment, it was time for my daily trek across the "road" to the Imperial Restaurant for vegetarian marsala and chappathi, washed down with a bottle of water (it was veg biryani and a mango juice drink for lunch, so I figured I'd had enough sugar for the day). I'm finding the weather agreeable and certainly not torrid - growing up in western sydney in the 60s (no airconditioning, not much shade and plenty of walking around to do) has probably stood me in good stead. I find the ceiling fans at home and work are sufficient (but then we are heading into "winter" now).

An incredibly rich experience

Well, here I am only five days in to my Indian adventure and I've already missed two days of posting!

I will claim that every day is such a rich experience that I don't have time or space to write it all down (and there is certainly some truth to that) but it doesn't do much good for the commitment I made if I don't include at least something each day (back to the discipline question I guess).

Anyway, after two nights of sleeping without the lock on the front door (although it is bolted x2 on the inside), the carpenter came yesterday to replace the lock and I'm now securely ensconced once more. Monday and Tuesday in the office were mostly focussed on getting the School prospectus in shape for printing and loading on to the website, so it is not a very exciting part of the picture. A lot of activity going on around us because the School is also a major construction zone at the moment and I get a good view out of my office window at the work being undertaken. It is exciting to see the daily progress being made and to know that before too long we'll be watching the installation of classroom seating, the library facilities and so on. I have joked with people that I am called Foundation Dean because I've got my spade in the knapsack ready to dig, but fortunately I haven't been called on yet.

I will write more this evening when I return, but I wanted to get at least something down for the last couple of days before I lose track altogether.

Welcome to India!

A new day and thoughts of lots of work to get done, with lots that got done, but it was also a day that had its moments.

Sunday in Kochi during Ramzan (Ramadan) should be a day to get lots done. Up at 7am and on to the computer, still eating the fruit basket Freeda left and chatting with Jay and Ria in Ohio about a number of matters. Then it was on to the editorial for the next issue of JMH (Journal of Management History) - late to the publisher (the fabulous Kim Foster) and the pressure was on to come up with a useful piece; finally finished this evening, in between other emails and such (including a visit to the St John Bosco Church in the High Court precinct for mass with Ajith).

The internet contact is a bit frustrating - the "new" technology in India is CDMA, which is just about to be switched off in Australia and the rest of the world - 256kb connection is not too speedy, especially when you're trying to deal with the memory hungry rubbish that accompanies every email page on Bigpond (I've finally given up on it and forwarding all my email to Gmail).

And so to the real fun of today. Keeping an eye on the Liverpool-Spurs game, I nipped across to the Imperial Restaurant to pick up a veg biriyani and bottle of water for dinner. Togged out in my mundu and new sandals and shirt, I was feeling very "local" and pleased with myself, until I had returned to find the lock on the door to the apartment "frozen" and refusing to respond to the key (or my plaintive pleas). While the gateman and I are on "nodding" terms, his English is as good as my Malayalam and so we had the next door neighbour also trying (along with the secretary of the apartment block) until Ajith arrived with a spare key.

As I had suspected, the lock was broken and would not yield to any of the ministrations. Finally the gateman was instructed to jemmy the door open by the secretary on the basis that the lock producer should pay for the door to be fixed because of a shoddy product that is under guarantee (we'll see about this). What I was more staggered by was that all four of my good samaritans went through exactly the same process of interrogating me as to what I had done when I had left the apartment, trying the key to see if it would work (numerous times), looking at the other keys on the chain (even though none of them could possibly be of assistance) and finally saying "I think the lock is not working". As per the title of this blog "welcome to India"!

Back inside an hour later with a door that is only lockable from the inside, I'm reliably informed it will be fixed tomorrow (again we shall see). Ah well - cold biriyani and water: "breakfast of champions"!

New Dean, new office, new blog

Not exactly Lawrence of Arabia, and not exactly Peter O'Toole, but it sounded like a reasonable attempt at a blog title, and so it will do for the time being.

I promised myself (and others) that I would start a new blog to coincide with my entry into the world of deaning in India and, of course, I have delayed and delayed on the basis that I was not "really" into the role yet. Well I can't procrastinate any longer - have spent my first full day in the IBS Kochi office after arriving last night (Friday 5th October) at 10.30pm and finally hitting the sack at 12.30am (or 5.00am Sydney time).

Yesterday was a mixed experience. Luke (my son) had driven me out to the airport and we'd parted company after a couple of decent bear hugs and my encouragement for him to download Skype for more regular ongoing contact.

What I thought was going to be a standard check-in like the hundreds of previous occasions turned sour at the Singapore Airlines counter, as I discovered that 10kg in excess baggage translates into a $300 (yep, $30 per kg) excess baggage charge. The flight to Singapore (down the back of the bus) was uneventful, with spare seats between me and the fourth person in our middle row and a chance to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, along with another movie I immediately forget.

Singapore Airport remains a hive of activity and I was no stranger to this, meeting up with a guy named Wayne on his way to an ayurvedic ashram in Kerala (serendipity? fate? God moving in mysterious ways?) in between making a phone call to an important business contact I'd arranged the previous Wednesday (which turned out to be the most positive aspect of the day).

Singapore to Kochi on Silk Air is about a four-hour flight and, again, I was fortunate to find a space between me and the other person in our row of three, but not so fortunate, given the very tired young three year old in the seat immediately behind me.

Ajith and Thankachin were at the airport to pick me up and deliver me to the apartment, where I was delighted to be the recipient of a thoughtful fruit basket and warm words of welcome in a note from Freeda (our Director Marketing). Some extended minutes of unpacking and then it was settling down time.

Up earlier than expected this morning and then a day of all sorts of sites, sounds and activity - first to the police station for the obligatory "reporting in" under Rule 14 of the Foreign Visitors Act. To the office and staggered at how much has been achieved in refurbishment and construction in the last month or so. On to the net for emails and such, with a visit from our friendly local bank managers, a Skype session with Jay, phone call from Mohan and a follow up text message from Freeda to punctuate various parts of the day. Met Jeena, our new office assistant/receptionist and Ajay, our new IT guy and our housekeeper (whose name, I'm ashamed to say immediately escapes me).

This evening was shopping time, with a trip to the supermarket, followed by visits to the textiles shop, the sandal shop, a local water bottle dispenser (interspersed by a quick dosa marsala for dinner) and so to home for more unpacking and the beginning of this blog.