The Final Post

Sitting in the brewery, looking back at my time in India, it is hard to believe that I have spent just 6 short weeks here. I like to think that I have come a long way from the naive traveller who got to this country in early June. I have grown in many ways since being here – through my perspective, understanding, respect for others, communication skills – just not physically as somehow I managed to lose weight… While I have tried to stay conscious of how people around the world live, it is hard to really do so until you are here, to see life first hand. Though at times the trip has left me disheartened; on the whole it has also left me energized and consequently I am a huge advocate for this country and all the potential which it holds.

I have had the chance to do some traveling in the south while here: to Munnar (the tea planting district), to Kullor (to go hiking), and to Hampi (a collection of 15^th century ruins). Each has left me with many memories and has opened my eyes to the diversity and size of India. I have had the chance to explore Bangalore – frequenting many of the other microbreweries and music venues, visiting the numerous temples and parks. I have had the chance to do a wide range of things at work – leading training sessions to the staff, tours to people from around the world, frequent beer tastings at work (a personal favourite), and even some consulting for the companies employee appreciation programs.

Yet the thing which truly sticks out from this trip, and what made it so phenomenal, is the various people I have met. I have met people from a variety of professions from across the globe. The Indian bar tenders at Arbor, British engineers for Rolls Royce, American salesmen, German social workers, people running windfarms, owners of tea plantations, students, and everything in-between. They have shared advice on all sorts of things; where I should eat, travel, and on carer aspirations (which fields are exciting to work in and where in the world to start). We have shared absurd memories and they will stay with me for a very long time.

Some special memories include a hospital run after living on a broken ankle for 2 months. Riding on motorbikes through the rice fields with a few German guys in Hampi. Hitting a Bangalore brunch (all you can eat and drink from 12-4) before heading to the top of the highest building in Bangalore to chat about the future of the US and UK while watching the sun set. Finding a stray dog sleeping outside my door on the 2^nd floor of the apartment building. Leading my first training and realizing how boring I must have been (don’t worry I managed to change that quickly). Helping lift a motorbike off a man who had just got in a major accident (don’t drink and drive kids). Doing an 18km hike. Visiting the mookambike temple (where I had to be shirtless wearing only a lungi – picture a long white skirt). My first night bus, reaching the second highest peak in southern India, and walking through the clubs and tea fields which my grandfather once walked through 65 years prior. All very special times which I hope to never forget.

Me at the main temple in Hampi

Stone Chariot, Hampi

Gates to the temple in Hampi

City Market

City Market Flowers

So I will finish by thanking everyone for helping make this an amazing experience and for those of you who have supported me along the way (and even bothered to read this rather unusual blog).
Cheers,

Oli.

Hospital runs, and Montezuma’s revenge

Hospital runs, and Montezuma’s revenge

This has been an interesting week with regard to my physical health, including a hospital trip and a bed ridden 24 hours. While some may be very concerned, my hospital trip was one of the most interesting/exciting parts of my trip to date – I’d rank it higher than most of the tourist attractions I have visited. But I am sure you are all wondering why on earth I ended up in a hospital in Bangalore.

Well after an unusual bout of frustration, I kicked a rock. Yes not a clever move. Not my finest hour by any means, but it happened. One summers evening in early May at my home in Troy Michigan. While at the time it hurt, I didn’t really think anything of it, as I had just kicked a rock – of course it’s going to hurt… And thus it was swollen for a few weeks, but I could walk on it so was not concerned. And I wasn’t going to go to a doctor in US as I didn’t want to go to see 2 different specialists and my mother didn’t want to spend $500 to spend on medical bills.

Yet a week later it was still hurting and I happened to be in the UK so knowing that I could see a nurse for free, headed over to the doctors in Cardigan, Wales. I was pleasantly surprised to not have to face the dreaded lines which I had read about with the NHS. A nurse sat me down to look at my ankle. She asked a few questions and ultimately said I had probably bruised the bone and swelling will go down with time and it will all work out. So I went about my normal business. I carried on hitting the gym and going for runs while in India, yet the ankle still hurt. So one morning I decided I wanted to get another look at it and maybe even an x-ray to see if it was fractured.

So I walk over to my local hospital. I get to this massive building with people flooding in and out. I look at the signs and didn’t see one for x-ray so thought I should ask someone where I should go. I asked the security guard he informed me that it was down the hall, the first door on the right. I quickly realize that this is the emergency room, evident by the woman groaning in pain and the man with blood pouring down his arm. It all felt rather like the operations room in M.A.S.H. While I am taking all this in, I notice that there is a doctor sitting behind a desk. He stands up and walks over to me to ask what is wrong. I let him know I want an x-ray and he quite happily fills out a ticket for me to go to the payment office to purchase an x-ray without asking me what had happened or why I thought I might need an x-ray.

After waiting in line for 10 minutes or so, I get to the lady at the desk. I gave here my piece of paper and she asks if I am catholic. This took me by surprise, I realized I had seen an awful lot of pictures of Jesus as I had walked in. I realized it was a catholic hospital and the first thing that crossed my mind is that I had to be catholic to visit the hospital. I said yes, hoping that she would not ask me to recite the sacraments or a Hail Mary. She replied “good”. Asked for 200 rupees ($3.50) and I was off to get an x-ray. She had pointed me towards a room. I walked in and gave the man my card. It was the wrong room. He pointed me toward another room. That again was the wrong room. After 2 more attempts, with apparently nobody in the hospital knowing the location of the x-ray room, I finally made it.

I sat and waited and looked at the signs on the wall. There was a large photo of Jesus and written below was “Jesus will heal you”. Yet to be quite honest I was hoping a medical professional would be doing most of the healing at this hospital. The next sign said “Danger, no pregnant women”. I had just finished reading this as the very pregnant lady sitting in front of me was called into the x-ray room. In prior experiences getting x-rays they had given me a lead vest to wear, I was not afforded such luxuries this time round. Thus after a healthy dose of radiation and about 10 more minutes of waiting, the man came our again and gave me a copy of my x-ray. He proceeded to walk off. So I was left there with an x-ray wondering what to do next. So I did what anyone would do, held it up to the lights like they do on television to see if anything was wrong. I have seen every episode of House, and thus assumed my medical knowledge was quite extensive. Looking at it, everything seemed to be in the right place. There were more bones then I thought there should be, but that seemed fine.

Recognizing that my medical knowledge, and ability to read an x-ray were probably limited, I decided it was about time I find a doctor. After queuing up and paying 250 rupees ($4) I was told to go to Orthope, which I assumed was the name of a doctor. Only after 5 minutes of searching, did I realize that he had said Orthopaedics (yet again going to show how limited my medical knowledge is). I found the office and waited to be called. Here I sat opposite a woman who looked as if she was in agony with a large bandage around her ankle, while I was there concerned that my ankle still hurt a bit. After a while it seemed that people just kept appearing and going into the office. For some reason I had assumed that the man I just paid would inform the doc I was there, of course this was not the case so asked a nice nun how to get in line. I think because I was white, I was rushed to get served next, an experience that made me feel rather uncomfortable. I sat down with the doc, gave him the x-ray, and he didn’t look at it. All he wanted to do was chat about why I was in India, asking what I had learned about the world so far. After chatting for a while he got round to asking who said I should get an x-ray, I had told him I just ask for one and they gave it to me. He shrugged, told me that I had a couple of small fractures on my ankle and I should stop lifting weights for 4 weeks. He went to a desk gave me a bandage, and sent me on my way. Easy.

This week also entailed a bout of Montezuma’s revenge and I won’t go into too much detail here as it was a pretty rough 24 hours which included binge watching The Daily Show for at least 10 of those hours. Yet as my American friends at Arbor had said, “you haven’t done India right if you don’t get sick.”

Oliver

Week 4 update

After returning from a busy weekend trip in Munnar, I returned to Bangalore to start the second half of my trip. 15 hours on a bus got me back in to Bangalore at 5:30am on Thursday. Bangalore is separated between the places with wealth and those areas where they do not. While I am living in a very nice part of town, the bus stop was not. This does not concern me. I have yet to feel unsafe or unconfutable in India (except when facing a particularly hot curry). It was eye opening to see the city wake up. The streets were empty except for the odd person leaving the market with their cart of vegetables, the call to pray playing in the background. As I flew through the city on a rickshaw, a crisp breeze blew against my tried, disoriented face. I felt this amazing sense of anticipation, for the day which lay ahead. Within 2 hours, the streets would be buzzing with amazing sights and sounds. I did not see this of as I passed out as soon as I got back to my apartment feeling rather broken.

By 4pm I was back at work for another day at the brewery. I needed to plan another training session so worked on some ideas and settled on taking the guys (the servers and bar tenders) inside the brewery to see where the magic happened, as well as having a quiz/competition to test their beer knowledge. The working week also included one or two tours as well as pushing the new beer on tap: our American Magic. It’s a wheat based summer ale which has been spiced with orange, ginger, and tamarind to give it a lovely fruity flavour with a slightly sour finish.

Working at an American brewery offering burgers, pizza, and pastas (be it spicier then what I would find in the States) it can be very easy to forget that I am in India. This week there has been several instances to remind me of this fact. I live in a gated apartment building here. I headed home at 23:30 after a long day at work, and as I was heading up the stairs to my floor I found a stray dog running up and down the stairs. As I rounded the corner to my floor I found another large mutt sitting on my door mat looking up at me. As I began to unlock the door above the dog, climbing over it to get into my room several thoughts crossed my mind. One of which being “why am I staring at a stray dog sitting outside my apartment? And how on earth did it get in here?” Then realized “oh yes… India.” While this may all seem very strange or stressful, these situations happen daily here. I will forget that I am not in the US, realise somethings is odd or different and then except this is how things are and get on with it. You have to.

When interviewing for this position, my boss had said “I just want to let you know that things can be a little less continent here in India.” And at the time I thought this was a massive understatement and he just didn’t want to freak me out to much before I got here. But I realise that it’s not all that different. You just get on with things.

Thanks for reading all this,

Oli

My birthday dinner

A shot from a quick hiking trip I went on

training

Fresh coconut off the street

Week 3. The half way point.

Training!

At the 2nd highest point in Southern India after 15 hours of travel time

The tea gardens of Munnar

Things are really picking up here in Bangalore. This week opened with me giving the first training session to the staff. I had written a program on beer knowledge and customer service which all our servers needed to memorize. I like to think it was a success. 90% of the guys showed up and took notes and there were lots of questions asked. I am now in the process of writing the next program for next week.

This week also marked my first brewery tours. This too was something that I needed to write and put together myself. After learning as much as I could about the brewing process I decided to start offering tours. So far it has mainly been me offering it to anyone that seems interested. As a result I have done 5 or 6 now. I probably should have written down a script for the first one so I had a plan as to what I should say. Instead (in true student fashion) I decided to wing it. It went surprisingly well. I could answer all their questions and they all gave me great reviews. And I learned loads about what works and what doesn’t, how best to present information, and what people tend to care about.

On a less work related note, this week I went to see some local bands. It was great to see a large vibrant crowd, excited about new music and not just the top 40 which is all I seem to hear on the radio over here!

The week also marked my first trip out of Bangalore; to a city called Munnar in the tea planting region of the country. I took a 15 hour bus overnight for a quick 3 day trip before heading all the way back again. It was an amazing experience to see a different side to India (rather than the very cosmopolitan Bangalore). The region is stunning with tea trees as far as the eye can see!

Well that’s all I have for now as I have to get to work.

Hard at Work

So why am I in India?

I am sure that to many it may come as a surprise that I am not in India to just bum around and embrace a new culture. I am in fact interning at Arbor Brewing Company Bangalore. A little bit of background – Arbor Brewing Co is one of the largest microbreweries in Ann Arbor, Michigan (the town where I go to Uni). 4 years ago microbreweries were legalized in Bangalore and thus stated popping up across the city as the new drinking holes for those working in business and the IT sector. My boss, a Bangalore native and alumni of the University of Michigan recognised that a lot of the breweries here were lacking experience with making great beer and thus wanted to partner with an established brewery in the states. After several years, we are now the second biggest microbrewery in Bangalore.

So why am I here? Given that craft beer is relatively new to Bangalore, I have been tasked with teaching people about our beers – as most are accustomed to the very standard Kingfisher. I host tours of the brewery, lead tastings with groups, and am generally a presence in the pub to get feedback from customers and answer any questions that they may have.

While this seems like a rather unconventional internship, it has been massively rewarding thus far. Not only for the chance to be in India, but to work with a great group of people. I will be hosting training seasons with the staff, helping with leadership skills; leading various beer tasting – working on product knowledge and presentation technique; and working primarily on how to sell more beer.

But don’t think I have been spending all my time working… I chucked in some photos of my morning walk to the gym and a trip to the botanical gardens here.

Cheers,

Oli

First Impressions

I don’t think I ever really thought I would make it to India. It has been a goal of mine since a I was young child sitting in bed as my grandfather shared tales of all the adventures in the country as he had living here 60 years prior. Thus when I learned about the India Initiative Program it seemed silly not to apply. In the planning process for the summer a trip to India never was the focus. However during the first week of March I received an email telling me that I had been offered a chance to work at Arbor Brewing Company in Bangalore, India.

3 months later, and I found myself setting off on a 27 hour trip to get to Bangalore (which involved one of the top 5 longest flights, 16 hours from New York to Delhi). It was half way through this trip, at 3am that it finally hit me. I was going to India, to sell beer, in a culture so drastically different from my own. Quite frankly, I was terrified. But I came to realize that my grandfather (who was the same age as me when he left for India) was gone for 10 years where as I was just off for 6 weeks, his trip took 2 months, and did not have the luxuries of skype and FaceTime.

Now I am here I couldn’t be gladder that I made the trip. There is this magical, organic fluidity to India. On first sight, it seems to be chaos – cars and bikes swerving in and out of traffic (ignoring the presence of lanes), wild dogs hanging around street corners, and hundreds of people trying to sell me real Ray Bans. Yet when you look a little closer, you realize that it just works. Life here may be missing some of the luxuries which I take for granted in the US, such as drinking water from a tap. But people are working hard trying to make a better life for themselves and their family, and they are happy doing so. I have been greeted with nothing but kindness and a real interest in me, which is a refreshing change from a lot of the superficial interactions which take place in my life back home.

Bangalore is particularly interesting; as a friend told me ‘it is the biggest little city in the world’. He said this because there is quite clearly lots of new money in Bangalore. It is the IT capital of India with lots of international companies opening offices here. The result is a population of Indians who are quite well off. It is this wealthy class that you will see in all the breweries in the city and this small circle seem to all knew each other because of it. I find this disparity, and its implications, between the wealthy group which frequent the brewery and such a large very poor population of Bangalore interesting. I hope to write on it more as I spend more time talking to people here.

Having left my parents in Detroit 7 days ago, I still can’t quite believe that I am here – yet at the same time it all seems terribly natural (I wonder if my grandfather was feeling the same way 7 days into his tip). Well, that’s all I have so far. I’ll keep you posted.

Cheers,

Oli