So we've been working in the office this week. Jenny has been working on a quarterly newsletter for Maitri, and I've been looking into possible ways of giving small loans to women associated with Maitri. Jenny has also put together a health related activity that she will do with the kids. She plans on taking their vitals and teaching them the importance of getting check ups.
Tonight we are off to Varanasi. We bought night train tickets this morning, and will come back Sunday night. We're pretty excited about it. More on that later...
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Rickshaws
As we were negotiating our ride to work today, I realized that getting a rickshaw is a lot like dating:
First there’s the introduction and a brief proposal of where you think things are going. When you mention a price, and it’s too serious, or not enough of a financial commitment, the driver scoffs and acts like he’s going to drive off. But he doesn’t quite drive away, he lingers around for a while. So you start walking away too, but you don’t go too far, because the price was close to where you wanted it to be, and you don’t want to start the whole thing over again. You act like you’re looking for another rickshaw driver, but you’ve got the original one in your peripherals. He either drives away because he really isn’t interested, or he throws a better deal out, something that works for both of you.
First there’s the introduction and a brief proposal of where you think things are going. When you mention a price, and it’s too serious, or not enough of a financial commitment, the driver scoffs and acts like he’s going to drive off. But he doesn’t quite drive away, he lingers around for a while. So you start walking away too, but you don’t go too far, because the price was close to where you wanted it to be, and you don’t want to start the whole thing over again. You act like you’re looking for another rickshaw driver, but you’ve got the original one in your peripherals. He either drives away because he really isn’t interested, or he throws a better deal out, something that works for both of you.
May 25-27, 2008. First Few Days in Delhi
Pictures are scattered throughout the post...
When we arrived in Delhi at about 9:00 a.m., we were greeted by Rajmal, our intern host’s personal driver. It was a much smoother arrival than our previous one in Delhi, a week earlier. That time we had lost baggage and we had to navigate from the international terminal to the domestic terminal several miles away. The inefficiency would blow your mind.
Rajmal dropped us off at our apartment where Kaitlyn and Nancy were relaxing and taking in the Sunday morning. I have to say, our apartment is rad. The inside kind of has a loft feel, and I feel like we are close enough to everything, but not too close. We live in a residential colony called Som Vihar, which has about fifteen 7-story apartment buildings, a small park, a restaurant, grocery store, fruit stand, internet café, and a bunch of morning walkers. We live in F-block. That sounds a little communist or Alcatraz-ish (as you’ll recall, D-block, also known as solitary confinement, was home to Robert “The Birdman” Stroud), but F-block is actually a very pleasant place to be. 
The temple building was packed with people. All of the men were in turbans, and everybody was trying to get a look at a religious ceremony going on in the middle of the temple. The three men producing the music which we had heard over the loudspeakers were sitting near the ceremony, singing and playing a sitar, and two accordion looking instruments. We did a little more people watching, and headed back to the melee outside to retrieve our shoes.
Our next destination was Lodi Gardens, which is the perfect respite from Delhi’s crowded streets (and temples). Think Central Park with large 15th century Muslim tombs scattered about.
The surrounding gardens and tombs were also interesting and entertaining, despite a very up close and personal encounter with a couple of bats (the flying animal kind) in the pitch black stairwell at Isa Kahn’s tomb. 
The coolest part of the post-bat setting was the music that we could hear from a celebration in the distance. The music was more Sikh chanting that you would expect to hear out of Arabian Nights, and it drifted over the entire complex.
As we tried to leave the complex for our apartment, a rickshaw driver told us that the streets were filled with people from the celebration, and that we would have to walk a ways and find a rickshaw where the streets weren’t so crowded. I grabbed another mango popsicle for the walk, and we passed through the celebration, which apparently was reaching its climax. Everybody singing and throwing rose pedals at a carriage filled with some celebratory something or other. The scent of roses was subtle, but something I didn’t expect to experience in the streets of Delhi.
When we got home, Jenny and I unpacked, and we all generally just hung out.
Our plane left Hyderabad at 6:55 in the morning, and I told the receptionist at Cosy Homes that we wanted to be there by about 5:00, so she had a taxi pick us up at 3:00 a.m. In normal traffic it takes about an hour to get there, but we arrived at about 3:20. It would have made my Dad proud. One of the less noble parts of Indian culture, in my opinion, is the tendency to “butt” in line. In the boarding line, a 55 year old man walked right in front of everyone, and jumped in right in front of me. I think I was the only one to notice (as Jenny and I were the only foreigners, and she’s generally more relaxed about that kind of stuff). “This isn’t the third grade lunch line pal,” I thought to myself.
When we arrived in Delhi at about 9:00 a.m., we were greeted by Rajmal, our intern host’s personal driver. It was a much smoother arrival than our previous one in Delhi, a week earlier. That time we had lost baggage and we had to navigate from the international terminal to the domestic terminal several miles away. The inefficiency would blow your mind.
Rajmal dropped us off at our apartment where Kaitlyn and Nancy were relaxing and taking in the Sunday morning. I have to say, our apartment is rad. The inside kind of has a loft feel, and I feel like we are close enough to everything, but not too close. We live in a residential colony called Som Vihar, which has about fifteen 7-story apartment buildings, a small park, a restaurant, grocery store, fruit stand, internet café, and a bunch of morning walkers. We live in F-block. That sounds a little communist or Alcatraz-ish (as you’ll recall, D-block, also known as solitary confinement, was home to Robert “The Birdman” Stroud), but F-block is actually a very pleasant place to be.
First, Nancy, Kaitlyn, Jenny and I made an itinerary, including Gurdwara Bangla Sahib, Lodi Gardens, and Humayun’s Tomb, and then we hopped on a rickshaw. Our rickshaw drove through some pretty nice areas, passing all of the embassies on our way to Gurdwara. The Thai embassy had a tall, ridged dome/tower, very reminiscent of photos of Thailand. The Swiss and Swedish embassies looked very efficient and clean. The Chinese embassy had barbed wire around the entire block, as well as guards standing every 25 yards or so. We pondered the reasons why there might be so much security around that particular embassy…
The outside of Gurdwara looked like an Indian Rage Against the Machine concert. The loudest part of the ruckus was coming from the shoe depository. Everybody had to take their shoes off, and place them in a depository prior to entering the temple. There must have been 75 people trying to hand shoes to 3 employees, in an 8 foot squared area. I honestly could not believe how rowdy the crowd was, and how hard you had to fight just to drop your shoes off. I took all of our shoes in, and took a couple of elbows to the ribs before getting to the front of the line.
The inside of the temple was quite a bit more peaceful. The temple opened up into a massive, white marble courtyard/gathering place, with a large pool in the middle. Hundreds of kids, men and families were bathing in the outer division of the water. The temple is located on the site where the 8th Sikh Guru, Harkrishan Dev, spent several months in 1664. The Guru helped many sick people, and the pool water apparently has curative properties, (although I think the sanitation issues may cancel out some of the good). We walked along the shaded edges of the temple courtyard, listening to Sikh men singing religious hymns and chants over loudspeakers, before entering the temple itself.
The temple building was packed with people. All of the men were in turbans, and everybody was trying to get a look at a religious ceremony going on in the middle of the temple. The three men producing the music which we had heard over the loudspeakers were sitting near the ceremony, singing and playing a sitar, and two accordion looking instruments. We did a little more people watching, and headed back to the melee outside to retrieve our shoes.
Our next destination was Lodi Gardens, which is the perfect respite from Delhi’s crowded streets (and temples). Think Central Park with large 15th century Muslim tombs scattered about.
After a few photos of the tombs, a mango popsicle, and a rest in the Jose-Canseco-steroid-ant infested grass, we headed down to the Lodi Garden Restaurant. There was a large group of French tourists leaving as we arrived (all I could think about was Air France and my lost bag). The presence of the tourists was good because it meant the food was good. The presence of tourists was bad because it meant that, not only was the food probably not Indian, but that it was also on the expensive side. Fortunately, an expensive meal here costs about the same as a Rumbi’s Hawaiian chicken Sandwich in the U.S. The restaurant was actually just O.k., but we were full, and we had rested for a good two hours in an air conditioned room with a nice view. We left the gardens and headed for Humayun’s Tomb.
Humayun’s Tomb was the inspiration for the Taj Mahal, and it totally impressed.
The surrounding gardens and tombs were also interesting and entertaining, despite a very up close and personal encounter with a couple of bats (the flying animal kind) in the pitch black stairwell at Isa Kahn’s tomb. The coolest part of the post-bat setting was the music that we could hear from a celebration in the distance. The music was more Sikh chanting that you would expect to hear out of Arabian Nights, and it drifted over the entire complex.As we tried to leave the complex for our apartment, a rickshaw driver told us that the streets were filled with people from the celebration, and that we would have to walk a ways and find a rickshaw where the streets weren’t so crowded. I grabbed another mango popsicle for the walk, and we passed through the celebration, which apparently was reaching its climax. Everybody singing and throwing rose pedals at a carriage filled with some celebratory something or other. The scent of roses was subtle, but something I didn’t expect to experience in the streets of Delhi.
When we got home, Jenny and I unpacked, and we all generally just hung out.
On Monday, it rained in the morning. It was the kind of rain that sweeps across everything over and over again like curtains in the wind. Jannke(sp?) our maid and cook, came and fixed breakfast, and burned incense in the apartment. She brought her homemade pickled mango to put on the omelet style flat bread she had made. The pickled mango had been set aside for a year and a half so that all the flavors could mesh together. It was extremely spicy, but pretty good. After the rain stopped, we left for work, and were introduced to the four or five employees at Maitri. While I’ll go into detail in another posting about the CEO, and employees, I just want to highlight Winnie, the founder (with her husband), and her 6 dogs. First of all, everything about her is impressive. She comes across as capable, motivated, and in control of the situation. She brings five of her dogs to the office every day. First the males, their breeds and names: Lama Ji, an overweight prize winning Beagle and possibly the handsomest dog I’ve ever seen; Buddy, a yellow lab who just lies around and reminds me of a sea lion; Big Boss and Amigo, two small, precocious Yorkshire Terriers, one of whom doesn’t get along with Lama Ji; and finally, Pushkin, the Chihuahua, who needs to be carried, and who talks big, but hides behind Buddy in times of peril. Elsa, the Daschund bitch, stays at home on a plush cushion near the dining room table. We ate at Winnie’s home for lunch (amazing lunch and an amazing apartment), and became better acquainted with the Maitri staff and the collection of canines.
The rest of our day was spent repairing the internet and air conditioning in our apartment. In the evening we went to Priya Market, which is basically an outdoor mall, with a nice movie theater and shops like United Colors of Benetton, Von Dutch, a French grocery store, and a really cool cheap bookstore. We bought cereal (who would have thought you would be able to find Blueberry Morning in Delhi), milk and juice from the grocery store, and Jenny got a pair of stretchy, pajama pants with good airflow to wear around the apartment.
The most exciting things today were driving to the other school and tailoring center that Maitri started in a Delhi slum, and teaching the kids at the main Maitri school underneath our office. We sang Let it Be, karaoke style, as the kids clapped to the beat and played the air guitar. We also practiced English and Math with them. They were extremely interested in everything we taught, but they were so rambunctious that it was hard to work with more than two or three at a time. Winnie explained that the kids are in pretty desperate need of attention. Right now it sounds like Jenny will be taking the children’s vitals and teaching them the importance of checkups and health. It is still a little unclear as to what I will be doing, but Jenny and I are both pretty excited to be here.
Interesting Observations
A few of the things I've noticed about India that may be of interest:
1. The ads in my Yahoo Mail page are not for E-Harmony or other dating services. They are for E-Matrimony sites.
2. NOBODY wears shorts. It's 110 degrees farenheit outside, and everybody is wearing pants or saris.
3. The kids at the Delhi Public School, which is just down the street from our apartment, play a bunch of different sports in their time off, most notably cricket and badminton. The DPS facilities are surprisingly nice, and we can use them for free.
4. Bathroom etiquette is quite different here. I won't go into the details.
5. There is no set price for anything.
6. While every Indian I have worked with has been incredibly competent and efficient, many of the facilities and institutions (the Delhi airport, the driving/bathroom habits, etc.) are remarkably inefficient.
7. With FEW exceptions, there is little public affection between men and women. Not evening holding hands. Apparently this is looked down on. That is the single biggest difference between India and say...Brazil. Men, on the other hand, hold hands with and caress the shoulders of other men in public, and this is totally acceptable. We're talking about straight men. Now I don't have any problems with this, it's just a little different than what I'm used to.
There are more on the way...
1. The ads in my Yahoo Mail page are not for E-Harmony or other dating services. They are for E-Matrimony sites.
2. NOBODY wears shorts. It's 110 degrees farenheit outside, and everybody is wearing pants or saris.
3. The kids at the Delhi Public School, which is just down the street from our apartment, play a bunch of different sports in their time off, most notably cricket and badminton. The DPS facilities are surprisingly nice, and we can use them for free.
4. Bathroom etiquette is quite different here. I won't go into the details.
5. There is no set price for anything.
6. While every Indian I have worked with has been incredibly competent and efficient, many of the facilities and institutions (the Delhi airport, the driving/bathroom habits, etc.) are remarkably inefficient.
7. With FEW exceptions, there is little public affection between men and women. Not evening holding hands. Apparently this is looked down on. That is the single biggest difference between India and say...Brazil. Men, on the other hand, hold hands with and caress the shoulders of other men in public, and this is totally acceptable. We're talking about straight men. Now I don't have any problems with this, it's just a little different than what I'm used to.
There are more on the way...
Monday, May 26, 2008
May 24, 2008. Baggage Reclamation, Golconda Fort, etc.
Photos of our last day in Hyderabad:
The Saturday after Jenny and I returned to Hyderabad was basically a free day. We decided to drive out to the new Hyderabad airport to pick up our bag that Air France had lost a week earlier. Before I get into the lost bag fiasco, let me tell you that the new airport, completed about one month ago, is amazing. It's nicer than any airport I've been inside in the U.S. , and it's actually kind of embarrassing how much nicer it is than Delhi's International airport.
(If you want to skip this next paragraph, I won’t be offended. I’m ranting. Just promise yourself that you won’t ever fly Air France or Air India)
So Air France left our bag in Paris when we flew to Delhi a week and a half ago. There was plenty of room on the plane (Jenny and I each had a 5-seat row to ourselves to sleep on), and the Air France baggage claim guy in Delhi made it seem like the bag wasn’t lost, but that they just decided to leave it in Paris. He also assured me that the bag would be delivered to the address I gave him in Hyderabad, within 48 hours. Then he promised me, while looking me square in the eye, that the bag would be delivered to the address I gave him in Hyderabad, within 48 hours. So, as you can imagine, Jenny and I were pretty frustrated when, after a week, there was no bag waiting for us at Cosy Homes. So we called the Air France people in Delhi, and they said that the bag had been delivered, and that we would have to pick the bag up at the Indian Airlines baggage claim in Hyderabad (????!!!!). So we paid ($30 roundtrip) for the taxi out to the airport and discovered that there was no Indian Airlines baggage claim office. The people at the airport’s general lost baggage desk told us that they hadn’t seen our bag either. To make us even more frustrated, they told us that their phone was only for local calls, and that there was only one phone in the airport capable of reaching Delhi (????!!!!), and the woman who managed the phone was at breakfast (????!!!!). Finally we reached the Air France people in Delhi, and, after deliberating for 15 minutes, they told us that the bag was actually at the Air India (Not Indian Airlines) cargo pickup center. Frustrating. When we reached the cargo pickup center, 2 miles away, we had to pay about $10 to retrieve our bag. The neighborhood we were staying in was listed on the baggage slip, but no Cosy Homes address was listed. I could tell that, despite the baggage claim guy’s promises, there was no intention of delivering the bag to Cosy Homes. Once we had the bag, which contained all of our American goods that couldn’t be carried on the plane, I was happy again. After being insulted by Air France and Air India I am encouraging people not to fly the airlines whenever possible. So that is the end of my rant.
After the wild goose chase for the bag, Jenny and I drove to Golconda Fort, a fortress built by the Qutb Shahi Kings in the early 1500s. To give you an idea of how bad (for the older generation, “bad” in this context means intriguing, unique, and breathtaking) this fort was: spikes were welded to the front gates to deter invading Mughal war elephants, and a clap under the portico at the bottom of the fort could be heard perfectly by the king at the top of the fort, 1 kilometer up the mountain. In the 1600s the fort was eventually overtaken by the Mughals from the North (Delhi area I think), but only after an 8 month siege. Abul Hasan, the Qutb Shahi king probably wouldn’t have been defeated if not for a “treacherous insider.” Other interesting facts about the fort and the surrounding area, are: the Hope Diamond was taken from the Golconda mines nearby, and the name Golconda was associated with massive fortune and wealth in the 16th-19th centuries. When the people in the fort ran out of water, the King at the time (late 1500s) sent people to the nearby Musi River, and thus, the city of Hyderabad began.
After visiting the fort, we returned to Cosy Homes, relaxed, napped, and said goodbye to the staff at SKS. In the evening, we went out with Shailesh, our first guide in Warangal. He had come to Hyderabad for the weekend for additional training. First we went to the Charminar, which is the main site in Hyderabad. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera, so we don’t have pictures, but you can Google Image it. Finally we went to a restaurant called Paradise, which makes the best biryani in Hyderabad. Biryani is the food that Southern India is famous for, and I have to say that it was amazing. We also had chicken tikka masala, and lots of naan and pineapple juice. It was a good way to finish up our time in Hyderabad.
(If you want to skip this next paragraph, I won’t be offended. I’m ranting. Just promise yourself that you won’t ever fly Air France or Air India)
So Air France left our bag in Paris when we flew to Delhi a week and a half ago. There was plenty of room on the plane (Jenny and I each had a 5-seat row to ourselves to sleep on), and the Air France baggage claim guy in Delhi made it seem like the bag wasn’t lost, but that they just decided to leave it in Paris. He also assured me that the bag would be delivered to the address I gave him in Hyderabad, within 48 hours. Then he promised me, while looking me square in the eye, that the bag would be delivered to the address I gave him in Hyderabad, within 48 hours. So, as you can imagine, Jenny and I were pretty frustrated when, after a week, there was no bag waiting for us at Cosy Homes. So we called the Air France people in Delhi, and they said that the bag had been delivered, and that we would have to pick the bag up at the Indian Airlines baggage claim in Hyderabad (????!!!!). So we paid ($30 roundtrip) for the taxi out to the airport and discovered that there was no Indian Airlines baggage claim office. The people at the airport’s general lost baggage desk told us that they hadn’t seen our bag either. To make us even more frustrated, they told us that their phone was only for local calls, and that there was only one phone in the airport capable of reaching Delhi (????!!!!), and the woman who managed the phone was at breakfast (????!!!!). Finally we reached the Air France people in Delhi, and, after deliberating for 15 minutes, they told us that the bag was actually at the Air India (Not Indian Airlines) cargo pickup center. Frustrating. When we reached the cargo pickup center, 2 miles away, we had to pay about $10 to retrieve our bag. The neighborhood we were staying in was listed on the baggage slip, but no Cosy Homes address was listed. I could tell that, despite the baggage claim guy’s promises, there was no intention of delivering the bag to Cosy Homes. Once we had the bag, which contained all of our American goods that couldn’t be carried on the plane, I was happy again. After being insulted by Air France and Air India I am encouraging people not to fly the airlines whenever possible. So that is the end of my rant.
After the wild goose chase for the bag, Jenny and I drove to Golconda Fort, a fortress built by the Qutb Shahi Kings in the early 1500s. To give you an idea of how bad (for the older generation, “bad” in this context means intriguing, unique, and breathtaking) this fort was: spikes were welded to the front gates to deter invading Mughal war elephants, and a clap under the portico at the bottom of the fort could be heard perfectly by the king at the top of the fort, 1 kilometer up the mountain. In the 1600s the fort was eventually overtaken by the Mughals from the North (Delhi area I think), but only after an 8 month siege. Abul Hasan, the Qutb Shahi king probably wouldn’t have been defeated if not for a “treacherous insider.” Other interesting facts about the fort and the surrounding area, are: the Hope Diamond was taken from the Golconda mines nearby, and the name Golconda was associated with massive fortune and wealth in the 16th-19th centuries. When the people in the fort ran out of water, the King at the time (late 1500s) sent people to the nearby Musi River, and thus, the city of Hyderabad began.
After visiting the fort, we returned to Cosy Homes, relaxed, napped, and said goodbye to the staff at SKS. In the evening, we went out with Shailesh, our first guide in Warangal. He had come to Hyderabad for the weekend for additional training. First we went to the Charminar, which is the main site in Hyderabad. Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera, so we don’t have pictures, but you can Google Image it. Finally we went to a restaurant called Paradise, which makes the best biryani in Hyderabad. Biryani is the food that Southern India is famous for, and I have to say that it was amazing. We also had chicken tikka masala, and lots of naan and pineapple juice. It was a good way to finish up our time in Hyderabad.
May 19-23, 2008. Visit to Warangal & Khammam
I’m going to be honest - this blog submission will be long. So, for those of you who are not family or friend, or who lack adequate time, I’ve typed up an abridged version of our last week in India for your convenience: money, spices, parasites, motorcycles, tribal languages, buffalo, a Hindu goddess of death and destruction, and a 1000 year old Kakatiyan fortress which was cut out of black basalt and which was visited by Marco Polo. Here are some photos as well:
Here is a less abridged version of the week:
On Monday, Danashree, the woman coordinating my visit with SKS, informed me that I would get an extensive look at the company’s field operations. Apparently that meant that Jenny and I would be traveling 100 miles into the Indian wild to visit SKS branches in rural parts of Andhra Pradesh (AP). Our taxi picked us up from Cosy Homes (our guesthouse) and drove four and a half hours to Warangal.
The wildest part about the Indian wild was the freeway. If there is one law on the road, it is: Survive. Rickshaws, taxis, buses, trucks, motorcycles and ox-drawn carts all compete for space, whether it’s in the right lane, the wrong lane, or on the shoulder. Everybody is honking, and swerving around vehicles in front of them. Our taxi driver was a 21 year old kid, and was particularly aggressive. He would swerve into the opposite lane, and, just when we thought there was no hope of getting back into our lane, he would sneak in before a truck could nab us. I became very familiar with the term “Road King,” which is painted on the front of every Tata brand truck.
We arrived in Warangal at 11:30p.m., and checked into the Hotel Ratna. Our room was barebones, and came with a couple of lizards and a trail of ants leading to the drawers. Jenny had never showered in a bathroom that didn’t have some sort of separation between the shower and the toilet (maybe in Japan), but she got used to it and, by the end of our stay, she was commenting on how efficient the setup was.
Before diving into our experiences in the field, let me briefly explain the way SKS works, and why it is growing so rapidly. There are somewhere around 200 million “very poor” and “ultra poor” citizens in India alone. These people have no access to loans from banks, because they have no collateral. As several other microfinance institutions have done, SKS forms groups of these people, who all count on each other. If one person defaults on a loan, the entire group, consisting of 5 women, has to pay back the loan. If the group can’t pay back the defaulted loan, the larger “center”, consisting of 4-8 groups, has to come up with the money. Basically, the financial obligation keeps getting spread out thinner and thinner until it is not difficult to collect the loan. As a result, SKS has a 99.6% repayment rate. SKS works through women, because it is a goal of theirs to empower the female population in India. Many times, the woman’s husband is actually the one with the business idea. However, if his wife is the financier, there is more of a balance of power in the relationship. One of the stipulations of the loans is that the money must all be put to use within four weeks, or else the remaining money is taken back. This way, all of SKS’ resources are put to use more efficiently, and the women are not burdened with more financial obligation than they can bear.
Two of the things that really set SKS apart are their profit model, and their aggressiveness in organizing new groups, centers, branches, etc. Other microfinance institutions (MFIs), who acquire their funds through grants, donations, government, etc., have given many loans to the poor. Because the funding runs out, however, or the value of the money circulated depreciates, the MFIs are not terribly self-sustainable. SKS charges 12.5% interest on loans, and turns a profit. The money that they create is put back into the process. SKS has taken out loans from Citibank, ING, and a long list of other financial institutions, who pretty much rest assured that their loans will be paid back. One benefit of the profit model is that SKS can incentivize their sales team. Sales people get commission for setting up new groups, so they have a personal financial interest in combating poverty. There is a pretty amazing system of checks and balances in place so that corruption, bribery, etc. doesn’t occur. Another benefit of the profit model, is that about 50% of the sales force are sons, daughters, brothers, or sisters of one of the borrowers. Borrower and employee obviously aren’t responsible for each other in the system, but the direct employing of the poor is another way that SKS helps fight poverty.
So the field is set up like this: A group (5 women) is part of a center (4-8 groups),which is part of a branch (25-40 centers), which is part of a unit (4-6 branches) which is part of an area (10 units). A field staff member recruits the groups. He can then be promoted numerous times. Typically within two years, s/he will be recruited to branch manager, then to unit manager, then to assistant area manager. In rare cases, s/he could eventually become area manager, but that position is typically reserved for MBA graduates. The company has around 2 million borrowers, and it grew by 200% last year. They feel like this rate of growth is sustainable for at least the next few years. They have really only begun to saturate (that may even be a strong word) one of India’s 30 states. They are the largest and fastest growing MFI in India, and this is all only the beginning. They are just starting to roll out health and life insurance, educational loans, home loans, access to quality consumer goods at low prices, access to cellular phones, etc. I was honestly blown away by it all.
So, now that I’ve probably bored everybody but Mom away from the blog, let me get back to our first day in Warangal…
On our first day, Shailesh, a recent MBA graduate and an Area Manager in training, and Mahesh, the local Branch Manager, picked us up from the Hotel Ratna at 6:30 a.m. (everything starts early here because the loan disbursements take place outside and it gets up to 115 degrees in the afternoon). These two guys were honestly lifesavers. Shailesh speaks Hindi, English, French and something else, and Mahesh speaks Telugu and Hindi. The local dialect in Andhra Pradesh is Telugu, so between them, they could communicate between us and each other. Because Jenny and I had spent 2700 rupees the night before on a taxi from Hyderabad (a rip off apparently), we weren’t about to spend any more on a taxi to take us from place to place. We jumped on the back of Shailesh and Mahesh’s motorcycles and rode with them.
We first went to see the local branch office, which was in the upstairs room of a very average apartment building (The company is working for the poor, so office space isn’t lavish. Their main office in Hyderabad is in a house, not a big glass office building). We met the field staff, who were all leaving for their center meetings, and then joined one of them for a nearby center meeting, held on the roof of one of the women’s houses. We didn’t really know what to expect, so when we climbed the stairs and came out on the roof, to 30 women in saris, sitting in a semicircle, Jenny and I both had one of those, “I can’t believe I’m actually here” moments. The center had waited for us, and when we sat down, they began to recite the SKS pledge, which basically states that they will attend the weekly meetings and pay on time, that they will not accept bribes, and that they will use their loans for profit building purposes only (no weddings, parties, etc). After the pledge, we watched as the women received loans, made payments, presented new loan applications, etc. Shailesh explained everything to us, and answered all of our questions. We attended two more center meetings in the morning, and saw more of the branch office operations.
At night we went to Bahdrakali Temple, and drove around inside of Warangal Fort, which once housed members and leaders of the Kakatiya civilization. The fort walls are massive pieces of black basalt, and a sign near the middle of the fort explains that Marco Polo marveled at the civilization, their fort and its carvings, when he passed through India. The fort still houses thousands of people, and apparently people have to authorize occasional governmental checks of their property because pieces of gold are sporadically found in yards and fields throughout the fort.
On Wednesday, after attending three more center meetings in the morning, Mahesh, Shailesh, Jenny and I went back to Warangal Fort to get a better look at the sculptures and carvings. They really were some of the most intricate carvings I’d ever seen. There were small six-inch carvings of elephants that were detailed down to the beads on the harnesses. It was all pretty incredible, especially because it was out in the middle of the Indian countryside. We obviously would never have visited the fort and seen the carvings if not for our visit with SKS.
In the afternoon and evening we drove from Warangal to Khammam. We took in the sunset as we drove, and watched Indian farmers cutting hay in the fields. Khammam was a little greener than Warangal, and not nearly as crowded. It was nice to feel like we could walk around the streets and not worry about getting hit by a “Road King”.
On Thursday, we went around with members of the area office to the different center meetings, and saw how the area manager works to solve the problems created by the death of a borrowers husband SKS writes off the loan for these women, and returns the principal that the women have paid back. In the evening, we attended a training meeting in which all of the field staff from the surrounding area were being trained how to implement a new life insurance product into the system. The meeting was in Telugu, with a Hindi interpreter. The meeting also lasted three hours longer than Jenny and I had anticipated. It was one of the less thrilling experiences of our trip.
On Friday, we visited several more center meetings and the local area and branch office, before taking off for Hyderabad. One of the centers we visited was about 25 miles outside of Khammam, and as we drove in, we could tell that few (if any) Americans had ever been there. Most of the town members followed the taxi and watched as we got out of the car. We sat on a members roof, and while the meeting was going on, one of the area staff told me that the women were speaking in a tribal language that only their assigned field assistant knew. It’s a long way from English to Hindi to Telugu to that tribal language, I thought. Back at the branch office, the branch staff gave Jenny and me a plastic statue of Rama and a female goddess (Shiva?) as a gift, and had us write about our visit in a notebook. Our experiences in Warangal and Khammam were some of the most unforgettable of our lives.
Because of the harrowing experience of driving through the night with an unfamiliar taxi driver on Indian freeways, Jenny and I decided to travel back to Hyderabad by bus in the afternoon, with two familiar SKS staff members. It actually just worked out that way, but Jenny and I were very grateful that it did. We were able to relax on the bus, and we actually got to see all of the countryside that we had missed on our way to Warangal. The staff at Cosy Homes were excited to see us again, and they made us a pile of steamed rice with paneer masala and butter naan for dinner.
Here is a less abridged version of the week:
On Monday, Danashree, the woman coordinating my visit with SKS, informed me that I would get an extensive look at the company’s field operations. Apparently that meant that Jenny and I would be traveling 100 miles into the Indian wild to visit SKS branches in rural parts of Andhra Pradesh (AP). Our taxi picked us up from Cosy Homes (our guesthouse) and drove four and a half hours to Warangal.
The wildest part about the Indian wild was the freeway. If there is one law on the road, it is: Survive. Rickshaws, taxis, buses, trucks, motorcycles and ox-drawn carts all compete for space, whether it’s in the right lane, the wrong lane, or on the shoulder. Everybody is honking, and swerving around vehicles in front of them. Our taxi driver was a 21 year old kid, and was particularly aggressive. He would swerve into the opposite lane, and, just when we thought there was no hope of getting back into our lane, he would sneak in before a truck could nab us. I became very familiar with the term “Road King,” which is painted on the front of every Tata brand truck.
We arrived in Warangal at 11:30p.m., and checked into the Hotel Ratna. Our room was barebones, and came with a couple of lizards and a trail of ants leading to the drawers. Jenny had never showered in a bathroom that didn’t have some sort of separation between the shower and the toilet (maybe in Japan), but she got used to it and, by the end of our stay, she was commenting on how efficient the setup was.
Before diving into our experiences in the field, let me briefly explain the way SKS works, and why it is growing so rapidly. There are somewhere around 200 million “very poor” and “ultra poor” citizens in India alone. These people have no access to loans from banks, because they have no collateral. As several other microfinance institutions have done, SKS forms groups of these people, who all count on each other. If one person defaults on a loan, the entire group, consisting of 5 women, has to pay back the loan. If the group can’t pay back the defaulted loan, the larger “center”, consisting of 4-8 groups, has to come up with the money. Basically, the financial obligation keeps getting spread out thinner and thinner until it is not difficult to collect the loan. As a result, SKS has a 99.6% repayment rate. SKS works through women, because it is a goal of theirs to empower the female population in India. Many times, the woman’s husband is actually the one with the business idea. However, if his wife is the financier, there is more of a balance of power in the relationship. One of the stipulations of the loans is that the money must all be put to use within four weeks, or else the remaining money is taken back. This way, all of SKS’ resources are put to use more efficiently, and the women are not burdened with more financial obligation than they can bear.
Two of the things that really set SKS apart are their profit model, and their aggressiveness in organizing new groups, centers, branches, etc. Other microfinance institutions (MFIs), who acquire their funds through grants, donations, government, etc., have given many loans to the poor. Because the funding runs out, however, or the value of the money circulated depreciates, the MFIs are not terribly self-sustainable. SKS charges 12.5% interest on loans, and turns a profit. The money that they create is put back into the process. SKS has taken out loans from Citibank, ING, and a long list of other financial institutions, who pretty much rest assured that their loans will be paid back. One benefit of the profit model is that SKS can incentivize their sales team. Sales people get commission for setting up new groups, so they have a personal financial interest in combating poverty. There is a pretty amazing system of checks and balances in place so that corruption, bribery, etc. doesn’t occur. Another benefit of the profit model, is that about 50% of the sales force are sons, daughters, brothers, or sisters of one of the borrowers. Borrower and employee obviously aren’t responsible for each other in the system, but the direct employing of the poor is another way that SKS helps fight poverty.
So the field is set up like this: A group (5 women) is part of a center (4-8 groups),which is part of a branch (25-40 centers), which is part of a unit (4-6 branches) which is part of an area (10 units). A field staff member recruits the groups. He can then be promoted numerous times. Typically within two years, s/he will be recruited to branch manager, then to unit manager, then to assistant area manager. In rare cases, s/he could eventually become area manager, but that position is typically reserved for MBA graduates. The company has around 2 million borrowers, and it grew by 200% last year. They feel like this rate of growth is sustainable for at least the next few years. They have really only begun to saturate (that may even be a strong word) one of India’s 30 states. They are the largest and fastest growing MFI in India, and this is all only the beginning. They are just starting to roll out health and life insurance, educational loans, home loans, access to quality consumer goods at low prices, access to cellular phones, etc. I was honestly blown away by it all.
So, now that I’ve probably bored everybody but Mom away from the blog, let me get back to our first day in Warangal…
On our first day, Shailesh, a recent MBA graduate and an Area Manager in training, and Mahesh, the local Branch Manager, picked us up from the Hotel Ratna at 6:30 a.m. (everything starts early here because the loan disbursements take place outside and it gets up to 115 degrees in the afternoon). These two guys were honestly lifesavers. Shailesh speaks Hindi, English, French and something else, and Mahesh speaks Telugu and Hindi. The local dialect in Andhra Pradesh is Telugu, so between them, they could communicate between us and each other. Because Jenny and I had spent 2700 rupees the night before on a taxi from Hyderabad (a rip off apparently), we weren’t about to spend any more on a taxi to take us from place to place. We jumped on the back of Shailesh and Mahesh’s motorcycles and rode with them.
We first went to see the local branch office, which was in the upstairs room of a very average apartment building (The company is working for the poor, so office space isn’t lavish. Their main office in Hyderabad is in a house, not a big glass office building). We met the field staff, who were all leaving for their center meetings, and then joined one of them for a nearby center meeting, held on the roof of one of the women’s houses. We didn’t really know what to expect, so when we climbed the stairs and came out on the roof, to 30 women in saris, sitting in a semicircle, Jenny and I both had one of those, “I can’t believe I’m actually here” moments. The center had waited for us, and when we sat down, they began to recite the SKS pledge, which basically states that they will attend the weekly meetings and pay on time, that they will not accept bribes, and that they will use their loans for profit building purposes only (no weddings, parties, etc). After the pledge, we watched as the women received loans, made payments, presented new loan applications, etc. Shailesh explained everything to us, and answered all of our questions. We attended two more center meetings in the morning, and saw more of the branch office operations.
At night we went to Bahdrakali Temple, and drove around inside of Warangal Fort, which once housed members and leaders of the Kakatiya civilization. The fort walls are massive pieces of black basalt, and a sign near the middle of the fort explains that Marco Polo marveled at the civilization, their fort and its carvings, when he passed through India. The fort still houses thousands of people, and apparently people have to authorize occasional governmental checks of their property because pieces of gold are sporadically found in yards and fields throughout the fort.
On Wednesday, after attending three more center meetings in the morning, Mahesh, Shailesh, Jenny and I went back to Warangal Fort to get a better look at the sculptures and carvings. They really were some of the most intricate carvings I’d ever seen. There were small six-inch carvings of elephants that were detailed down to the beads on the harnesses. It was all pretty incredible, especially because it was out in the middle of the Indian countryside. We obviously would never have visited the fort and seen the carvings if not for our visit with SKS.
In the afternoon and evening we drove from Warangal to Khammam. We took in the sunset as we drove, and watched Indian farmers cutting hay in the fields. Khammam was a little greener than Warangal, and not nearly as crowded. It was nice to feel like we could walk around the streets and not worry about getting hit by a “Road King”.
On Thursday, we went around with members of the area office to the different center meetings, and saw how the area manager works to solve the problems created by the death of a borrowers husband SKS writes off the loan for these women, and returns the principal that the women have paid back. In the evening, we attended a training meeting in which all of the field staff from the surrounding area were being trained how to implement a new life insurance product into the system. The meeting was in Telugu, with a Hindi interpreter. The meeting also lasted three hours longer than Jenny and I had anticipated. It was one of the less thrilling experiences of our trip.
On Friday, we visited several more center meetings and the local area and branch office, before taking off for Hyderabad. One of the centers we visited was about 25 miles outside of Khammam, and as we drove in, we could tell that few (if any) Americans had ever been there. Most of the town members followed the taxi and watched as we got out of the car. We sat on a members roof, and while the meeting was going on, one of the area staff told me that the women were speaking in a tribal language that only their assigned field assistant knew. It’s a long way from English to Hindi to Telugu to that tribal language, I thought. Back at the branch office, the branch staff gave Jenny and me a plastic statue of Rama and a female goddess (Shiva?) as a gift, and had us write about our visit in a notebook. Our experiences in Warangal and Khammam were some of the most unforgettable of our lives.
Because of the harrowing experience of driving through the night with an unfamiliar taxi driver on Indian freeways, Jenny and I decided to travel back to Hyderabad by bus in the afternoon, with two familiar SKS staff members. It actually just worked out that way, but Jenny and I were very grateful that it did. We were able to relax on the bus, and we actually got to see all of the countryside that we had missed on our way to Warangal. The staff at Cosy Homes were excited to see us again, and they made us a pile of steamed rice with paneer masala and butter naan for dinner.
Monday, May 19, 2008
May 18, 2008. Hyderabad Streets
The yellow rickshaws you see in the picture are just like the one we were traveling in at the time of this photo. The roads are mayhem. Jonny was lucky his arm didn't get cut off sticking it out to grab the photo. We were taveling back to our hotel after visiting an Indian museum.May 18, 2008. Cosy Homes
Top Picture:
Here is a view of the inside of our hotel. It is pretty nice, especially in comparison to the surrounding area.
Bottom Picture: These are the cooks standing in the kitchen. I (Jenny) had a hard time adjusting these first few days to the culture and the food. Slowly though, I am getting better thanks to Jonny's strong encouragement and efforts.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
May 17, 2008. Just Arriving
We arrived - exactly 38 hours, 5 airports, 1 lost bag, and a couple of Ambiens later.
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