Random Fun Facts: First Edition

1)  The bathroom is about a mile away from where I sit at the Site; ok, maybe not a mile, but it’s a good 2-3 minute walk that involves going outside.  I’ve noticed on such excursions that I consistently go to the wrong side of the staircase to pass people.  In the US we keep to the right, in India they keep to the left; both dictated by their respective driving practices.  The result is that I’m fairly convinced that all the Vizag personnel are wondering who the self-entitled white girl is who keeps making them deviate from their norm and move to the right on the staircase. Also, speaking of bathrooms, there are urinals in the woman’s bathroom and they put mothballs everywhere for fragrance.  Lastly, all bathroom stalls have little hoses to clean off your butt when you poop.

No, I haven't used this device.  I'm not sure it's more hygienic than TP.

2)  Indians do a sort of head bobble when they socially interact, typically to display understanding, but it kind of makes me dizzy when I engage them or even just watch.  Also, you can’t ask Indians yes/no questions because they will always deliver a ‘yes’ which means nothing.  They say yes primarily to please, but then whatever you asked for does not get accomplished.  This is particularly pronounced at restaurants, where service tends to be extremely slow; when you do get your food, however, they insist on serving it to you and will take the plate away from you to get you more if they see you trying to get it yourself.  Like in Mumbai, this continues to irk me.

3)  I took a tour of Vizag's manufacturing area and experienced something I never, even in my wildest dreams, thought I’d feel: Mixing Tank envy.  Granted, I don’t expect anyone to understand what I’m talking about since it exclusively relates to compounding pharmaceuticals, but an example may suffice to convey this sentiment.  Imagine you have a super pitiful small battered and bruised mixing bowl and all you have to blend its contents with is a shotty old-fashioned rusty hand-crank mixer.  One day you go over to a friend’s house and they’re sporting a state of the art KitchenAid Professional 620 Stand Mixer.  What you feel is not unlike how I felt looking at those gigantic shiny and new 6,000 Liter tanks with two built-in impellers designed for optimal mixing.  Oh, the drugs I could make!  Or rather, the drugs my Compounders could make since I’ll be Supervising Compounders, not actually compounding the drugs myself.  I'm so proud!  (PS Who in their right mind would pay $900 for a F$#!ing mixer?!)

4)  I’m no longer surprised in the slightest that the majority of NYC taxi cab drivers are Indian.  Compared to India, NYC traffic is comparable to a wide open country road.  Most importantly, though every instinct tells me I should be petrified, I sit back and relax as our driver maneuvers effortlessly around the mind-numbing array of motorcycles, buses, cement trucks, tuk-tuks, pedestrians, food carts, Indian dogs, cattle and tractors.  I simply trust him.  Interestingly, the traffic exclusively relies upon the culturally specific and intricate language of horn honking.  Everyone seems to understand and communicate via the duration and number of honks and moves accordingly like an elaborately orchestrated dance; its hypnotizing.

[Link to Pictures]

Suicidal Consumption

Tuesday, 12/10/2013

Although I despise talking about my ‘eating disorder,’ I’m struggling in a fairly humorous way so I thought I’d share my woes.  First I must mentally prepare you for the issue at hand.  Imagine that you used to be fat, like really really fat, like Oprah Winfrey circa 1993 fat.  Next, imagine that you busted your ass for one and a half years to lose 130 pounds but you didn’t implement a contingency plan to start eating normally again, and now you’re left with a paralyzing fear of gaining weight that leads you to err on the side of over-exercising and under-eating when you feel you’ve eaten too much.  Not to mention the horrific mental food guilt you suffer when you do overeat, or sometimes by simply thinking about eating a cupcake.  In summary, you can’t seem to get a grip on the one activity that all Humans must do to survive: Eat.

Now, put that mind-bend in your pocket and pick up these gems to boot.  When you do allow yourself to splurge and have a decent meal, you habitually go completely overboard, eat until you’re uncomfortable, and then have two desserts.  We’re almost there.  Finally, imagine that you get your favorite kind of food, in buffet form, for two straight weeks. 

Drum roll please….

Put all that together and what do you get? An enormous shit sandwich stuffed with a bloated stomach, poorly implemented buffet rules you’ve set for yourself yet consistently amend or break altogether just to get in one more bite, and lastly, extremely sore legs. It’s only been two F*#!ing days.  If I don’t do something to stop this cycle soon my legs are going to fall off and I’m going to look like Jabba the Hutt for multiple reasons.

I had a real scare this morning because I started feeling very sick and nauseous.  At first I thought the food was finally starting to bother my stomach, then I realized that I had rapidly went from eating seven 200-300 calorie meals a day to two 1,000 calorie meals a day with a protein bar for dinner; my stomach simply couldn’t handle the load, it’s being stretched and torn, causing the pain I experienced this morning as I poorly attempted my Yoga practice.  I also suspect I’m eating too much protein since I double up on the stuff to avoid eating fat-promoting carbohydrates.  I avoid them the same way an Orthodox Rabbi avoids eating Ham Hocks wrapped in Bacon served by a Prostitute.  It’s easy to forget, however, how difficult protein is to digest compared to carbs, so I tested my hypothesis at breakfast this morning.  I was feeling shaky, weak and nauseous and was even contemplating telling my boss that I couldn’t go into the site, but I knew she’d be disappointed so I sucked it up, ate some bran flakes mixed with yogurt and water, watermelon, half a piece of chicken sausage and some kind of extremely bland carb cake that I slathered with strawberry jam.  It was touch and go for a while but I started feeling better within the hour, and even got hungry after only four hours so I knew I had moderated effectively. 

But all that hard work was undone at lunch when I discovered Hakka noodles; well, those along with a super spicy pumpkin curry dish.  They looked like Lo Mein, so I thought I’d try that instead of rice, but it’s the Indian version and is superior to its Chinese counterpart in every way.  They’re kept lighter and are not cooked as long so the veggies are crispier and the noodles aren’t so oily.  Anyway, my final plan, which I sincerely hope works, is one plate with no over-lapping where I can see a bit of the plate between each selection. I’ll be honest, it has to work or I may become one of the only people who successfully killed themselves by eating too much. 

Seriously though, the food is amazing, hahahahaha, and I’m probably the only American who has ever traveled to India and still remained chronically constipated. Do I get some kind of trophy for that?

A Cultural Lesson

Monday, 12/09/2013
During the drive back to the Hotel tonight after a typical long day, to which I must become accustomed, and as I drowsed and drooled on my backpack, an amazing question dawned on me: What motivates Hospira Vizag Production Personnel?  This question for McPherson personnel has been near and dear to my heart in recent months after realizing how low the morale was on the production floor.  Ultimately, this obsession resulted in my applying and interviewing for a Production Supervisor job so that I can personally 'Motivate the Troops' and drive First Pass Quality (making a batch of drug without any errors) by supporting production, and my own staff within it.  I want to get people excited about what they do; making life saving medications, a job to be proud of indeed!  After a bit of contemplation, I realized that I'm able to motivate the workers back in McPherson because they are hard-working Americans like myself and have many of the same motivating factors; but I never realized this was cultural until witnessing the Hospira Vizag environment and learning about some of their biggest hurdles to starting production and passing their FDA audit, which are almost entirely due to cultural difficulties.  I can't give any details as it's confidential information but I can share this:  McPherson produces quality medications because our personnel profoundly buy into the Hospira culture of integrity and ownership of responsibility with respect to the quality of our drugs.  Furthermore, our production personnel are motivated to care about their work because they understand that the very medications they make could, and very likely will, end up in someone that they love.

In stark contrast to this, however, how do you motivate workers who have grown up in a culture of filth and 'Barely-Organized Chaos' to make quality medication when they know full-well that they, nor their loved ones, will likely ever have access to it. [Since we make generics, readily accessible to even the most destitute. I'd like to think this isn't the case, but I know first-hand the power of the poverty stricken mindset.]  How do you enforce good hygiene practices and careful execution of complicated procedures within a workforce whose cultural views do not align with the objective of integrity and producing quality medication for the sake of pride.  It surprised me to reason that though I'd likely be a great Production Supervisor back in McPherson, I'd be woefully worthless here because, culturally, I don't understand what motivates these people to work hard and do things correctly, or simply to care about their work and the quality of the drugs they manufacture.  Let me be clear however, I'm not saying that they don't care, only that I don't understand their motivations to care or how they display that caring, so I couldn't hope to support or motivate them as a supervisor.

PS Though it's not official yet, when I get back I expect to transition into that new role.  I couldn't be happier to be given my own crew and the chance to positively impact the quality of our medications directly through production, even if it does require me to work 12 hour overnight shifts.

Interestingly, India grows on me. Yes, it's dirty but the people are friendly and outgoing, always willing to put on a smile at the slightest provocation.  This also occurred to me during our drive through Vizag on the way home from the site tonight; it was a long drive.  The city was all lit up and buzzing with activity, it looked colorful and fun, and best of all the filth wasn't as visible in the dim lights. I even saw tractors and dump trucks at the site today that were adorned with colorful deities and pom-poms. Oh, and then there's one of the biggest selling points from my perspective: No fast food or chain restaurants!

India: First Impressions

Sunday, 12/08/2013 [Link to Pictures]

First of all, I'd like to make a retraction from my previous post.  While driving to the Mumbai airport, and being able to see part of Mumbai for the first time, I'm no longer disappointed, at all, that I didn't leave the hotel to explore.  Imagine the dirtiest street in Queens, multiply it by 1,000, and you may get close to the cleanest street in Mumbai.  I've never seen anything like it; one fellow Hospirian best described it as 'Barely-Organized Chaos.'  The weirdest part was seeing men and women dressed in professional clothes going about their daily business, the contrast between their appearance and their surroundings was astounding.

Once in Vizag I really experienced the thrilling adventure that is riding in a car in India.  There were cows and dogs wandering through the streets, stop signs that go wholly ignored, families of 5 on mopeds with the littlest haphazardly slung from their mother’s arm (see picture), many men urinating and sleeping in the streets, and the incessant blowing of horns which is the primary mode of communication between drivers of everything from Tuk-Tuks to Semis.  I could hardly believe my eyes, my immediate thought was ‘I could never function in this environment.’  Still, I consider myself lucky that I could think anything other than ‘I’m about to die’ as the car wove through two lanes of traffic being used as four lanes with everyone going different speeds and weaving unexpectedly into each other’s space.  I couldn't help but think that this environment and way of life is distinctly Indian; it wouldn't work anywhere else, nor would India be Indian without it.  It is unfathomable to conceive of India progressing to first world standards, it just wouldn't fit.

My boss and I were discussing a mutual friend and colleague back home who has accepted an ex-pat assignment here without ever having seen the place, or being in India in general.  On that ride, I couldn't help but feel afraid for them; if it was my first time here and I knew I’d be here to stay for the next 5 years I’d likely start sobbing uncontrollably.  That being said, my boss then asked me if I’d ever consider an ex-pat assignment, which I've conveyed interest in in the past, to which I replied that I’d have to see what type of housing they offer their Hospirians and it's location within the city.   Like anywhere, one adjusts only after getting into a routine and is comfortable with their surroundings; where they shop, eat and perform their other normal daily functions.  For me, it would be difficult to establish such a routine amongst all the filth and chaos as it’s simply against my nature.  Some people thrive in that arena, however, so I don’t wish to display an adverse judgment.

When we pulled up to the hotel I was instantly taken aback by the magnificent view that was the Bay of Bengal on the Indian Ocean, with gigantic waves crashing and a beautiful, lengthy coastline and massive ocean liners.  I could even see a lighthouse atop a mountain to the south.  The hotel itself is like a resort and has multiple restaurants, shops, bars, a gorgeous pool area, spa, fitness center, and even an outdoor track beautifully landscaped on the roof.  My room overlooks both the ocean and a vacant lot next to the hotel that used to have a building on it because all that’s left is a cool temple-ruins-looking staircase; oh, and a random cow that was lying under a tree.  I was confused at first when looking in the bathroom, my initial thought was ‘Where is the shower?’, then I realized that the bathroom wall, shower, and the wall on the other side of the shower next to the bed were all glass.  So basically, I can watch the waves crashing as I’m showering, very cool!

My co-workers and I got somewhat settled in and it felt particularly comforting to be able to unpack my stuff and lay down some roots to establish a routine for the next 12 days; then we had lunch and went wandering around the hotel and outdoor track to take in the coastline.  Next we went down to the lunch buffet area to see if we recognized any fellow Hospirians, and we found a whole bunch of them!  Brief introductions were made, but I didn't actually catch anyone’s name, but we arranged to meet for drinks at 18:00 before dinner. Lastly, we headed to the gym to work off lunch and jet lag.  I won’t discuss what completely derailed me before our meet-up time, but after this occurrence I was very much in need of a drink, so I showered, got my camera to snap some pictures, and headed downstairs to the pool/bar area a bit early.  While taking pictures of the pool I saw a table of four guys I recognized as some of the Hospirians I had met briefly earlier, so I sat down to shoot the shit.  What I truly love about Hospira and everyone who works there, is that we’re real, down to earth people; no inflated egos that can go along with inflated titles.  Instead, we cultivate a go-team mentality where everyone, no matter how low or high, does whatever is needed to get the job done and openly communicates with each other to achieve that goal.  I say this because I knew full-well that most of the people I was interacting with were Director Level pr even higher, otherwise they would not have been sent on this mission to India, yet they were dropping more f-bombs then I did back in my fondest days, and told great and crazy tales of their Indian adventures thus far.  Finally, I found friends with whom to explore and they promised to take me on their next outing!  I authentically liked everyone I met and best of all the diversity of the group was astounding.  Some people were Corporate, stationed in Lake Forest, IL, others were from our Rocky Mount and Clayton sites in North Carolina, we ever had some Aussies from the Mulgrave plant, and still others work remotely and are located all over the US.  Some had visited McPherson before and had dined at the very McDonald’s that I lovingly call home on the weekends.

On a final note, I'm afraid I have bad news for the friends I promised post cards too;  I'm not at all confident that I'll be able to get out and look for such items.  Also, no one here has ever seen postcards sold in the nearby stands; this isn't a touristy town to say the least.  I'll do what I can to make up for this deficiency with my ramblings and as many pictures as I can manage without offending people.

Marble Prison

Saturday, 12/07/2013 Mumbai, Hilton Hotel [Picture Link]
I'll begin by saying that this is, hands-down, one of the most beautiful buildings I've had the honor of being in; mostly due to my obsession with Marble and great landscaping, but please allow me to take a minute and explain my disappointment at being encapsulated within its boundaries.

My life's ambition is to travel, I want to absorb the sights, smells, culture and people of everywhere I go no matter how near to, or far from, home.  I typically achieve this goal by traversing where I am on-foot, I absolutely love to wander without any particular destination to see where life takes me and whom I may meet; and above all I congratulate myself on my independent nature and advanced sense of direction, both of which enable me to make smart decisions regarding my health and safety.  As I am now at the mercy of two Managers who do not encourage independent travel or the consummation or raw fruits or vegetables in this foreign land, however, I am not able to leave the hotel as neither of them wish to leave and I cannot go out alone without adverse judgement on my decision-making abilities from a professional standpoint.  I suppose this is the compromise I must make for 'Business' travel.

Ok, I'm done complaining ... thanks for listening, I feel much better. Note that what follows are facts and not to be taken as continued complaining.

The diverted flight to London did not end up leaving Heathrow until nearly 13:00, and once we flew to India, got through Customs and checked into the hotel it was nigh on 6:00 the following day.  I hadn't slept during the 8.5 hour flight, opting to catch up on some movies (The Internship, Meet the Miller and Wolverine-all great, and 21 Jump Street-not so great); I was so tired upon my arrival that it was all I could do to babble a few words and remember to use bottled water to brush my teeth.  My brain was so jet-lagged and confused in fact that I had no idea how to turn the lights in my room on or off, and had to ask one of the baggage handlers to show me as I simultaneously, and profusely, apologized for not having any rupees to give them, as I hadn't had the chance to change any money.  Everyone here is so nice and attentive it boarders on creepy, and this coming from one of the most extroverted Americans alive!  Once I had slept 4 hours I got up to have a light workout, and I was stared at by every hotel worker and guest as I got lost multiple times, both to and from the gym.  At first I was worried that my tattoos were offending them, and thus the basis of their staring, but finally decided that they'd likely stare at me like that anyway, so I let it go.  After all, I'm REALLY white.

Anyway, the day hasn't been a total bust.  I had a nice time sitting outside talking to my co-workers where it was delightfully warm and smelled of flowers, got to catch up on my work emails and partook of a fantastic buffet; I even tried Mutton!  The servers are so attentive that they insisted on getting the food for me, which I found unnerving, but I must remind myself to be culturally sensitive and tolerant.  Who could consciously be upset with people who simply, and authentically, wish to provide the best possible service? A bitch, that's who.... I'm not a bitch anymore.

Onto my final destination tomorrow: Visakhapatnam (Vizag)

Travel Day(s)

Flight 1 of 4: Wichita to Chicago (Wednesday, 12/04/2013)

This flight was largely uneventful other than sitting next to delightful pro hockey player from Vancouver whom I chatted with the entire way. 

Flight 2 of 4: Chicago to Newark

This flight was completely uneventful.  The best part was getting Sushi, which I normally shy away from, at O’Hare during our layover.  It was seriously phenomenal; grilled teriyaki chicken with avocado and asparagus wrapped in a super thin sesame paper instead of the typical seaweed wrap (the reason I normally don’t care for Sushi, that and I’m allergic to shellfish).

Flight 3 of 4: Newark to Mumbai (Entering Thursday, 12/05/2013)

Now, this was supposed to be a 15 hour flight during which I would almost completely miss the entire day of Thursday; no big loss as I didn’t have particularly high expectations for the day.  I could never have anticipated the luck, however, that a consistent and terrifying mechanical sound issuing next to me on the back of the huge Boeing 747 would issue on such a Thursday.  I have no idea how long we’d been on the plane when the noise started.  We got to cruising altitude and had dinner, shortly after which I put in earplugs, popped a Xanax, and settled in for the next God-awful number of hours.  The flight was relentlessly bumpy and the earplugs somewhat ineffective, so sleep did not come easy.  It wasn’t long before the noise started.  I kept my eyes closed and didn’t rouse but remember thinking ‘if this is what it sounds like with earplugs in, that sound must be really loud.’  I poked my head out for a peak and sure enough everyone was exchanging extremely nervous glances between each other and to the area from which the sounds was coming.  After a while the captain came on to assure us that they were aware of the issue, there was nothing wrong with the plane and we were safe, and that we’d be continuing on to Mumbai and returning to the States.  Well, for the next few hours the noise stopped and started in about thirty minute intervals.  I awoke from my weird ‘I’m resting but not really sleeping’ state with an extremely bruised ass and an urge to pee, so I got up to walk around and chat up the Stewardesses, which is when I found out we were being diverted to Heathrow airport where a mechanical crew was going to inspect the issue causing the noise.  Because the extra fuel that would take us to Mumbai made the plane too heavy to land, we had to dump it.  This seemed like such a horrible waste, but it was necessary and looked pretty cool too.  The stewardesses didn’t expect us to even pull up to a gate at Heathrow, stating that we’d sit on the tarmac while the crew did their inspection, then we’d take off again; turning our 15 hour flight into a much longer one.  This thought didn’t make me happy, but I was at their mercy and resigned to my sour-ass’s fate.  Regardless, I thought it was awesome that I was at least stopping in the UK for the first time.  We landed and were told to hold-tight until the inspection was done. 

After surprisingly little time, we were informed that the flight had been cancelled, but that we’d be shuttled to a hotel, given lunch, dinner and breakfast the next morning, and free internet at the hotel; but I was most excited that I’d be sleeping in a real bed, able to exercise and, duh, I WAS IN F@!$#ing LONDON!  Are you kidding me?! I wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste!  After a quick lunch and shower, my boss and our co-worker and I headed to Heathrow Terminal 1 and the underground Piccadilly Line to downtown.  The sights and sounds were so beautifully unfamiliar, the people so dazzling to watch.  Since we had limited daylight time, as it gets dark around 3:45pm, we did to the biggies: Buckingham Palace on the Thames and Big Ben (my personal pick).  We walked along the river through a gorgeous park between the two destinations; there were still colorful leaves falling from the trees and the grass was a brilliant green.  It was so phenomenal I felt like crying; to be in London, the one place I’ve always wanted to go, I simply can’t explain how blessed and grateful I felt.  After getting caught in the cold London rain (in clothes that were intended for the 90F temperatures of India), we headed to a pub around Trafalgar square name The Clarence where I partook of the most delicious hot spiced red wine and a ‘Proper Sandwich’ of roasted butternut squash, malted brie, and sweet beet relish. PHENOMENAL! How could I have known that this seemingly uneventful Thursday would become one of the most memorable days of my life.

[Link to Pictures]

After our brief, yet sublime, outing we took the hour-long train and bus route back to the hotel.  Despite my extreme fatigue, I took a relaxing brisk walk on the treadmill to finish off the night and prepare for the long flight ahead; I slept like the dead.  I’m now comfortably seated in the United Star Alliance lounge waiting for the plane part to be installed so that we can continue to Mumbai where I’ll spend the night before flying to Vizag on Saturday morning.

On a more general note, this was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had for a couple of different reasons: 1) United handled the situation wonderfully and spared no expense to make the unfortunate situation as comfortable and convenient for the passengers as possible, and 2) I now have about 200 new Indian friends.  Seriously, I can’t get over how friendly everyone is! They don’t shy away from asking questions, or striking up conversations.  Most people even shared personal information regarding how the cancellation impacted their personal plans, and spared no details; it was extremely endearing.  Interestingly, I met a great couple from Toronto who once owned a hotel in Gananoque, Ontario right across the St. Lawrence from where I grew up. It truly is a small, and magnificent, world!

The Way

The only way to Feel is Grateful
The only way to Be is Patient
The only Virtue worth having is Serenity
The only Certainty to expect is Change

The only Path to Enlightenment is God