TRIP NOTES - My Continuing Battles with Heat, Dust and Autorickshaw Drivers

This Week's Episode: Kenton 3, India naught in the first innings, or Hot Water Macht Frei

So India took another stab at me yesterday. Waking up at the crack of dawn, I turned on the hot water heater, waited fifteen minutes for the water to warm up and stepped into the shower. Everything was fine for a minute or two, then I felt the gentle tingle of 220 volts at 50 Hz flowing through my body. I have no idea how long this lasted, but it lasted until the thermostat decided the water was warm enough and cut off the power again. I then jumped out of the shower as if I had just been shot and spent the next five minutes screaming my lungs out.

For those who haven't been keeping tally, India has made two other attempts to kill me. One was with my assistance when I discovered that the controls on the non-export Enfield are reversed from every other motorcycle in the world. Thus, when I thought I was hitting the brakes, I was actually upshifting. This brought me into contact with a car and gave me a nice set of souvenir scars. By the way, for those of you who wondered, helmets work very well. My helmet got road rash so the side of my head didn't have to. The second attempt India made was about three weeks later. My elbow had finally healed from the previous attempt and I was heading back to work from lunch by autorickshaw. The autorickshaw (hereafter 'auto') driver decided that rather than live out his current existence as an auto driver, he'd done enough puja and it was time for another turn on the wheel (perhaps he'd become chief minister next time). To accomplish this, he pulled out into oncoming traffic. This annoyed me slightly as (1) my bargaining over price was for an auto ride to my office, not the hereafter, (2) I have finally started to like the life I currently have, (3) I hadn't finished up the backups on idli yet, and finally (4) I wasn't wearing clean underwear. However, perhaps he didn't see the car he was pulling in front of. I did however, quickly braced myself for the impact. And an impact it was, crushing the auto, slicing up the driver and smashing my newly healed elbow (which was the size of a baseball for the next month).

I think "replication failure" is one of those terms those of us in the support industry bandy about a little too much. The repair people have been unwilling to admit that their nice water heater might have an electrical fault. I am unwilling to take another shower, since one spin on the electric chair was enough for me. I suppose it would be more convincing if they were working on the fault while my dead body was lying rotting in the shower, but (as I mentioned above) I am liking this life right now.

So, while "replication failure" is a known term here, "product liability" does not seem to be. Upendra's suggestion was to have the electrician take a shower and see if he came out alive (or at least a believer). I declined as being accused of homicide is one of the things the Lonely Planet Guide to India suggests one avoid -- I just can't afford the Rs. 50 "spot fine" for killing an electrician. Hmm, perhaps I should use an auto driver instead?

All of this doesn't give me much hope of having a safe source of hot water. Also, since I am now staying in "The Firm Guesthouse," I think the firm might take a dim view of sending employees to visit the ODC only to have them returned in body bags. Or maybe not -- perhaps I could suggest it to the CEO, as a useful way to avoid layoffs? I'm sure some of us in Engineering Services have a few favorite users we'd love to send on a one-way trip to India. Its the new Guesthouse, with its authentic Auschwitz brand showers!

Dinesh had the best joke surrounding this whole incident: he asked if the water heater was ISO 9000 compliant.

Why I am liking this life is somewhat unclear to me at the moment. I am sitting here, spending my days in an apartment with no food, no potable water, a mean temperature of about 85 F, and no telephone, writing memos and email to pass the time while I wait for a succession of repair and installation people to fail to show up and install things to deal with the above missing items. The maid who has been hired to clean and do laundry can't come clean the place because Tuesday was not an auspicious day to start work. The water filter is apparently missing a part, which was delivered by one person, who couldn't install it because it they are not the installation person. The A/C installer couldn't finish the job because he's not an electrician and therefore can't attach the plug to the end of the cord. My guess is that the electricians are some very low caste and that it would be unclean for the higher caste A/C installers to do their work.

This leads into my plan for The Firm's acquisition of India. Rather than spend a great deal of money in a leveraged buyout, I will simply wait until a Saturday and invade. The army will not be able to show up until Monday, since Sunday is a public holiday. On Monday, they will not be able to come since the air force has not signed the correct papers. On Tuesday, the air force will not be able to sign the papers because the army doesn't have a quota spot. On Wednesday, the papers will be signed but the army won't be able to fight because Wednesday is an inauspicious day to start a war. And on Thursday, the Central Government will decide that rather than fighting the war, a committee needs to meet to decide on the best way to meet the threat. The CBI (Central Bureau of Investigation -- the Indian FBI) will promptly begin investigating all of the committee members proposed to see which of them are taking kickbacks from me to support my invasion. The Congress Party will not permit any of its MLAs to join the committee, since it is trying to destabilize the current Union government. The BJP will insist on its representation on the committee, which the Union government will not wish to allow. Meanwhile, the CBI will threaten to chargesheet all of the existing committee members, prompting a number of them to resign.

In short, this gives me about ten years to complete my acquisition.

My one solace in all of this terror is that I invested in one household appliance early in this exercise -- I bought a stereo for the house. Not only is it a nice CD player, it also has a shortwave radio built in. Thus, I can sit in the apartment listening to CDs or the BBC, sipping my tea (which is made with water that while quite thoroughly boiled is still the same color before and after the tea bag) and pretending that I am enjoying myself. Well, at least I'm having a chance to provide the requisite number of email messages to Upendra to keep up in the ever lasting memo war.

Kenton A. Hoover