The People of Thirthahalli Ruralshores BPO Centre

The smiling guard, Patrick, ensures that no one enters the centre with a heavy heart. He is ever helpful, kind-hearted, but thorough in his work. It is obvious that with him at the door, security is guaranteed. The first one hour of his day is busy with the youthful associates enthusiastically trooping in and logging into his thick attendance register. By 9 a.m. everybody is settled down and the chit chat has changed to a quiet hum of serious activity.

Vikram, or Vicky as he is popularly known, is a gentle person whose presence at the centre gives it the air of order. Everybody respects him and he attends to his duties with dedication. To Spencer and me, he is like a big brother, going to great pains to ensure our comfort. He made our stay in Thirthahalli a wonderful experience. With him, nothing is too much to ask. Associates mill around him asking for this and that and they always get served to their satisfaction.

Every morning, it is interesting to watch Satchin impart his boundless energy on everybody. The combination of his bubbling enthusiasm and the quiet demeanour of Abisheak is a sure recipe that not a second is lost in starting the day’s work. Within the first hour, D’souza is already on with his first report – a feat he constantly achieves throughout the day.  In the background, with a watchful eye, and keen ear, is Hrishi, whose presence is felt in a very unobtrusive way. One can tell he is in charge without feeling intimidated.

Jysheela, with her graceful walk around the centre, punctually keeps everybody’s thirst for tea quenched. Thanks to her also, that everything at the centre is squeaky clean and smelling fresh all day long.

Under the watchful eyes of Anjitha and Divya, an error would have a hard time passing from an associate. The two together with Suprith keep the inbox drained and associates clicking away. Trainees passing through Suprith’s hands become experts in no time. He has great passion for what Ruralshores is all about and is able to pass this on effectively to the young ones.

The bespectacled face of Ganesh gives an assurance about books well kept, and records meticulously maintained. In contrast, but complementing Ganesh, is Bharath, whose touch with the equipment is reminiscent of an artist with his paint brush. He makes the complex system look like a calculator. Petite and lively Navya is in pure harmony with her work station – a picture of confidence in herself.

Deepa readily breaks into a wide, infectious smile. She represents the feeling of ownership that all the youth working at this centre have to their respective processes and to Ruralshores as a whole. Everybody at the centre was extremely pleasant and helpful and I got to interact with most of the people. I could not, however manage to mention everyone by name but I can say without fear of contradiction that all the people there are now my friends.

While I was going to the Thirthahalli Ruralshores centre, I thought I was going to a geographical location. When I got there, I realised it was a group of people with a shared vision. A vision well brought out and actualised. A vision to be shared with all the villages of the world, and one I want to be a part of.

(Note: Some names may have been misspelt due to my difficulty in grasping Indian names)

From Bangalore to Thirthahalli

Spencer and I, accompanied by a young man called Ashok, rode for one hour in a city commuter bus right across the city of Bangalore to the main bus station for inter-city and inter-state buses. We boarded a sleeper coach. This is an interesting bus because it has beds instead of seats. It is the size of a 62-seater bus in Kenya, but it is fitted with 36 beds on two levels. There is a narrow corridor with two beds on the left and one on the right. One could sleep right through the whole trip but I was too excited to do so.

The sleeper bus departed at 10.00 p.m. on Tuesday 15^th May for the eight hour journey to Thirthahalli (pronounced titahali). Although we took the journey at night, I was able to notice that there were settlements, trees and other vegetation all along the way. I even caught a glimpse of rice paddies somewhere. We arrived at Thirthahalli at 6.00 a.m. and Ashok handed us over to our local chaperone, Vicky (short for Vikram and he is a man), who also works at the centre. Thirthahalli is a big town but we didn’t look around much. We were taken to our accommodation in a tuktuk (locally referred to as rickshaw).

Our accommodation was impressive from the onset. It was the guest wing in a home. The owner was called Gautam and he was very kind. He lived in the main house with his father and some other family members whose relationships we do not get to know. Our quarters were on the first floor while Gautam lived just below us on the ground floor. We had an ensuite bedroom with a big bed, a sitting room with antique furniture and satellite TV, and an open balcony with outdoor chairs overlooking the tree covered hills.

After checking in and freshening up, we were taken to the centre by Vicky and a friend on their motorbikes. On our way there we passed a swamp in which we saw a herd of Indian buffalo. We also saw a small group of dark skinned Indian families living in tents on a small valley floor. These, we were told are from a small Indian tribe who have no fixed abode, but move around working on farms for wages. When they move, they carry everything they own, which is not much.

 The Thirthahalli Ruralshores centre is located in a large hall which used to be a community wedding hall. The whole area is quite developed, which is especially noticeable since it is considered to be rural. The roads are tarmac ked and the houses are permanent and beautiful with intricately sculptured patterns, reminiscent of Indian architecture. The people in this community look comfortable, healthy, and are very kind and friendly.

It was very refreshing to finally see a fully functional rural BPO gainfully employing more than a hundred youth right there in their village. We were welcomed by the manager, Hrishi, who looks very young but is very knowledgeable and experienced. He commands a lot of respect from all the workers and he is very humble (Can you imagine he rides a motor bike to work?). He gave us a good overview of the centre and also of his own profile.

All the young people working at the centre have gone through basic schooling. This is the equivalent of a secondary school education. A few have been to college and university. Most are advancing their education after getting the jobs, and all of them are happy to work there.

We got to meet three of the senior process associates (associates are what we call operators), Suprith, Divya, and Anjitha (pronounced anjita). Suprith is a young man; while Divya and Anjitha are young ladies (I know you couldn’t tell that from the names).The three started off as trainees, became process associates, and eventually got promoted to become senior process associates. They are hoping to become process leads and even better in future. What stood out to me was the loyalty they have to the company. This, they say, is because Ruralshores changed their lives and gave them hope to better their lives and that of their families. All three walk to the office and take their meals at home. They are thus able to save a lot of money and take part in family activities.

Suprith and Divya are currently undertaking their undergraduate studies by distance learning. Anjitha on the other hand, already had an honours degree when she joined Ruralshores. However, she couldn’t get a good job because her family would not allow her to leave home for the big cities. In this culture, girls are very sheltered and the rural concept is highly beneficial to them and their families. Anjitha is now undertaking her postgraduate studies and is happy have a world class job very near home. She is highly talented and she is assigned to handle all the particularly difficult clients at the call centre section where the three work.

In the afternoon on Wednesday, Spencer and I were privileged to sit in a training session for new recruits in the call centre section. This was conducted by Sachin, one of the process leads, and it was so simply structured and very effectively delivered. It covered the basics and enhanced confidence of the trainees. All the people at the centre seem to interact very freely with each other and there is a lot of mutual respect. This is evident in even the new trainees who have only been there for only a few days.

There is so much to learn both in terms of processes and of the people and their attitudes. We have transformed ourselves into sponges to absorb as much as we can. The learning continues.

A taste of Indian hospitality: An account of my first day in India.

When we landed in Bangalore early in the morning of 13^th May, we didn’t know what to expect. Each of us had his or her idea of how things would turn out in this country.

After a small scare at the airport involving Stella and her “missing” invitation letter, we took the slightly more than one hour drive in cabs to the Sai Renaissance hotel, where we were promptly checked in at 6.00 a.m. local time. This was my first experience of jet-lag, because it was 3.30 a.m. back in Kenya where my biological clock was still attuned. By coming to India, I had effectively lost two and a half hours, and the only way to recover them would be by going back to Kenya.

Biological clocks aside, I was bursting with excitement and I could not sleep beyond 8.00 a.m. I woke up, freshened up, and went down to the dining room of the hotel. I was obviously not the only one who was excited as a few minutes later; Peter joined me, looking as fresh as ever. For breakfast, I took toast with baked beans, tea, and traditional Indian yoghurt, which is served in a bowl and sweetened with honey. Peter, the picky eater, only took cheese toast, and tea. We were now ready to see this town, or so we thought.

Having arrived in darkness, we were not able to appreciate then, the sheer size of the city of Bangalore. The Sai Renaissance hotel is located five kilometers away from the edge of the city centre. Peter and I had imagined that we could walk into the city centre, change some money, and have some fun. This was not to be, at least not just then.

We left the hotel gate and turned left. We walked for close to an hour and I figured we had covered close to three kilometers towards where we thought would be the city. That which was appearing from a distance to be shopping malls, turned out to be massive apartment blocks. We had to stop and ask for help. We found man, who appeared to be in his sixties, walking a cute white dog on a leash, outside a posh looking compound with tall blocks of apartments. Thankfully, he spoke good English so we were able to communicate.

We were embarrassed to be informed that we had been walking away from the city while we thought we were walking towards it. We should have turned right at the hotel gate. By now we were more than seven kilometres away from where we needed to be. We could take a bus or tuktuk (rickshaw) into town as there was no way we were going to walk that long distance in the now apparent high heat of Bangalore. There was one problem; we didn’t have any local currency. We only had hundred dollar bills. We told the man of our dilemma and he called his son on his mobile phone. The son was well built – he obviously worked out a lot – and he was as friendly and helpful as his father. He said he could call a friend who operated a forex bureau and who he could convince to meet us right there and change our money. We agreed and he called the friend who unfortunately, as out of town. We were stuck.

In an unexpected gesture, the old man offered to lend us money to board a bus into town with the promise that we should refund the money later in the day. He gave us forty rupees which would be enough to pay for the bus fare into town. This was from someone we had just met. He and his son had made several phone calls, given us a lot of information, given us money, and they didn’t even know our first names. It was simply amazing how kind and trusting Indians could be.

Our new friends tried to get us into a bus but all that came along were full. They decided to get us a rickshaw (tuktuk). This would be more expensive, but they were still willing to help out. The first rickshaw that came along stopped for us. Our friends explained to the driver where we needed to go. Wonder of wonders, the driver was willing to take us to a mall, wait for us to change our money, and only then accept his payment. With that new offer, we gave the old man his money back and got into the rickshaw. We were lost for words as we drove off. We had just experienced what we would gradually come to understand as typical Indian hospitality.

The rickshaw driver was chatty and he told us a lot about the city and India in general. The roads were good and though there were many vehicles, traffic was flowing. We had assumed that the cab driver who took us from the airport was unreasonably addicted to hooting. We now realized that loud hooting was an accepted way of life in India. Everybody was hooting, seemingly continuously, but no one showed any anger or aggressiveness in driving. They drive fast but they have few accidents. We got to the mega plaza and the driver had no qualms about getting us out of his sight even though we had not paid him.

We hurried into the mall and immediately sought directions to the forex bureau. We were disappointed to find it not yet open since it was early on a Sunday morning. We didn’t know what to do, and the rickshaw driver was waiting for his money outside. We decided to enquire from a tour operator who had an open desk on the mall floor as to when we could expect the money changer to arrive. He expected it to be soon but could not tell how soon. He however offered to buy our dollars from us at the same rate we could have expected to get from the money changer. We were elated as we took the money and Peter rushed out to pay the driver.

With the confidence that money inspires, we took a leisurely walk around the mall and looked at all that was on offer, from clothes, to shoes, to electronics, and of course, food. By the time we had covered all the three levels of the mall, we were famished. Peter had spotted a Nandos outlet – you see he owes them some loyalty as he had worked with them in Nairobi – and this was the obvious next stop. We really enjoyed our meal of flame-grilled chicken, fries, and bottomless coke (so called because you can take as much as you want without paying extra).

That afternoon we visited several other malls and realised that one could buy virtually anything in Bangalore. A toy company was conducting a demonstration by flying remote controlled toy helicopters in one of the malls’ lobby. There was also a shop selling original handmade Kashmir shawls, which were dyed using natural vegetable based colours. People in the malls were staring at us and we guessed that they didn’t get to see too many black people in this state. We saw many different people and we spoke to quite a number. They had one thing in common – kindness; and we realised that on our first day in India, we had experienced – first hand – a taste of Indian hospitality.