How Crazy Are You?
By Johnie Jonker
During a working visit to India a few years back, a colleague and I found ourselves in Bangalore, visiting the Indian counterpart to our own Denel, whom we were working for at the time. The purpose of our visit was to assist in the testing of electronic equipment.
We reported at the facility the morning after our arrival from Delhi, and started working straight away. This being Thursday, there was a lot to be done, but as Saturday was a normal working day in India, we envisaged that three days should be sufficient. Little did we know that, even though the work may be finished, our hosts are a tenacious lot, and that as they now have us there, are going to try to “detain” us for as long as decently possible in order to squeeze as much information out of us as they could.
The first signs of this became apparent when, seeing as we did not mind working on the Saturday, perhaps we did not mind working on a Sunday either? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. As we Sefricans are a pleasant lot, always trying to please, we complied.
We had originally planned on finalising the visit with a wrap-up meeting early the next morning, returning home on Wednesday, using the Tuesday – which was a public holiday – to spend as a day of rest.
This public holiday turned out to be Ghandi Day. Let me explain: This day commemorates Ghandi’s birthday – 2 October – and is right up there with any religious holiday in terms of sacredness. So obviously we would have the day off for some sight-seeing. Not so.
Off we trundle – AGAIN – to Bharat Electronics on the Tuesday morning – six of us in the Ambassador taxi. Let me explain again: In spite of having such a classy name, the Hindustan Ambassador is the staple taxi in India. It has been in production since 1958 (in India) with few modifications or changes and is based on the Morris Oxford III, produced in the United Kingdom from 1956 to 1959. They are severely underpowered – how much, we only learnt later, during a subsequent visit to Dehra Dun in the northern part of India.
En route to the nearby ski resort – no, really – of Mussoori, we asked the taxi driver whether he could turn on the air conditioning, as being summer at the time, it was blerrie humid. His response was that we can choose – either the air conditioning on; OR we drive. But not both. Anyway, I digress.
So we arrive at the entrance of the deserted – except for the security guards – company premises. Our local representative starts explaining our mission in one of the local languages. This is dragging on a bit, and although us two Sefrican boykies do not understand anything being said, we can sense the tone. It is now getting somewhat uncomfortable in the taxi, as these vehicles are not really designed to accommodate four adults on the back seat.
Eventually we are let through, and I ask Arun what he had to tell the guard to allow us in, as it sounded as if quite a bit of convincing was required on his part. Arun then explained that he had to tell the guard the same story four times, as to him – the guard – it was totally incomprehensible that anyone that has a National Holiday – especially THIS one – would choose to come to work rather than lazing about at home.
His parting words to Arun was: “You are not crazy, you are SUPERcrazy!”
JJJ
Well folks, this being my maiden post, perhaps I should explain a few things. I will try my utmost to ensure that I do not write anything of a humorous nature. For that content, read my boet’s blog. So please bear with me if something funny does slip through.
Contributions will mostly be of a travelogue nature, anecdotally relating incidents, supported by pictures. This may relate to events regarding the preparation, journey or destination.
Although the stories will all (mostly) be true, some of it you – like the security guard – may find hard to believe. Don’t worry too much if it sounds farfetched – just be entertained!
JJJ