Farewell then, Corporate World .....

The average person spends 91,250 hours, or 11,406 days of their life working. That’s a lot of time spent doing something which is usually controlled by the whims of others and which is not always entirely pleasurable. I started my own working life at the tender age of 13, it was of course a part time job, washing dishes in a local hotel to earn a bit of spending money. It was tough work - along with the plates I had to scrub pots which were invariably covered with sticky burnt on goo which would take me hours to scrub clean. But it earned me some pocket money and gave me a taste of financial freedom, even if my “salary” was blown as soon as I got it on records and nail varnish. Since those days of menial but often fun jobs, I’ve worked pretty much non-stop, with the exception of a year off spent backpacking around Asia when I was thirty. That’s ten years of casual work in kitchens, restaurants, bars and clubs, and a further eighteen years of “proper” career type work. Phew.

In recent months, I’ve started to tire of the corporate life. Though I’ve moaned for years about having to get up in the morning and go into the office, this time I knew that something was different. I’ve always been a workaholic, totally obsessed by my work and invariably glued to my Blackberry or laptop, but suddenly I found myself genuinely bored of my corporate environment and all that goes with it. The intense, opinionated meetings were no longer stimulating but instead had become exhausting. The office itself had changed from a place which simultaneously motivated and energized me to a space which I found uninspiring and unimaginative. In short, I’d lost my corporate mojo and it was time to take the toughest decision of all – to give it all up and follow my heart.

And so I handed in my notice and began the process of disengaging myself from the workplace. As I cleared out the detritus of four years worth of corporate life from my cabin, I found myself torn between regret and joy and got to thinking about the whole concept of working for a living, at least in the 9-5 sense.

Every workplace is essentially a microcosm of the world - filled with stereotypes, all co-existing in a super intensified, essentially artificial environment. There are the popular types, the ones who organize the office parties, trips to the pub, push the HR department to organize offsites and other jollies, and who think themselves the life and soul of the party. Dig a little deeper and you’ll find that they have fairly miserable lives outside the workplace and that they compensate for their sad social lives by reinventing themselves within the office. Then there are the slackers, those who arrive late every morning, spend hours concocting elaborate excuses for their tardiness in between updating their Facebook status, and delight in the indoors smoking ban, which means they can go and take long smoke breaks. There are the brown nosers, who spend their careers climbing the greasy pole, obsessed with promotion, and the perks of the job, and who invariably trample on anyone else who gets in their way. Alongside these there are the sad secretaries who have been resentfully stuck in the same job for 25 years and who find ever inventive ways to heighten their own sense of self importance, the bright young kids fresh out of college who think they already know it all, and the sloggers who hold the place together, quietly and with little fuss, typically putting in eighteen hour days to earn a pitiful share of the rewards. And of course there are the bosses – the popular ones, the nasty ones, those who resent the success of others and those who encourage it.

Given that we spend half of our waking day (or more) at work, it’s hardly surprising that we develop a strange and often obsessive relationship with it. The office becomes a surrogate family for many, the place where ambitions can be realized and dreams fulfilled, where all are equal (depending on how robust and fair the appraisal system is) and most importantly where there is a non stop flow of coffee, tea, light, air conditioning and clean loos. No small benefits for many who live in extended, crowded families or who are struggling to make ends meet. There is an important psychological relationship with the workplace – it gives a sense of self worth and achievement, measured out in the completion of the ‘to do’ list and the praise and thanks of others. Many people define themselves by their work - in India in particular, work and “designation” are a measure of status. A regular office job gives you credibility in the eyes of friends and family and may even affect your marriage prospects (most candidates for arranged marriages send their resumes in advance!). Leaving the workplace, whether by choice or by design, can have a significant impact – the feelings of self worth and affirmation may be replaced by insecurity and fear for the future once the reassuringly regular salary stops and the visiting card can no longer be flashed.

Those who do make the choice to forge a life outside the security of a corporate workplace often look down upon those who choose a “regular” job. They accuse them of “selling out”, of failing to listen to their heart and living a subjugated existence at the whim and mercy of someone who happens to have a bigger car and a larger office. The reality, in my view is that both worlds are viable and respectable and the key is to know when to run from the corporate world, and when to hang on to it for dear life. The global recession has made many people cling on to jobs they hate, and though sad, that is an inevitable part of any economic downfall. On the other hand there are people, particularly in India with its reverse trend buoyant economy, who are leaving the rat race to start up their own businesses, or even to simply take a break. Both are worthy paths, depending on one’s state of mind, self confidence and of course financial stability. Personally, I can’t wait to embark on my own brand new challenge, although I have a funny feeling I am going to miss the office gossip and bitchy anecdotes.

I heart Mumbai

An old post which I've found and updated. I think I wrote the original version about 4 years ago and it still holds true.

Though living in India can be exasperating, infuriating, maddening and at times just plain impossible, it’s clear to me that I am totally in love with Mumbai. Though it drives me crazy, I can’t leave it ; though I fight with it on a daily basis, I just keep coming back for more of its rollercoaster highs and lows.

I remember the exact moment that Mumbai took my heart. I'd arrived into the city late the previous night ... driven slowly through streets choked with ragged people, rickshaws spewing out obnoxious fumes, and a general cacophony of sound, sight and smell overwhelming every sense. Usual India/Asia stuff, I'd thought, as I contemplated my future life here. I woke the next morning to a blinding bright blue sky, cloudless and luminous in its intensity. I was picked up from the flat I was staying in at Kemps corner, and driven to the office. As we entered the lanes of cars weaving haphazhardly across lanes, I lost myself in the contemplation of life in this new city. As we suddenly swung a left into Marine Drive, past Chowpatty Beach, I looked up and saw the curving expanse of Marine Drive ahead. In that very moment, inspired by the beauty of that arc stretching far into the distance, and the sun glinting off the immense stretch of ocean, I felt my heart beat faster. I fell in love with this view, with this energy, with this bright expanse of possibility and felt that future would be bright and exciting. Eight years later, I still feel the same way about this city, a place where I’ve grown professionally, met my husband, had my baby, bought an apartment and finally become a “Person of Indian Origin”.

I know that there are cynics who believe that I’m only emotional about Mumbai because I’m living a comfortable expat life here, able to afford the luxuries which insulate me from the dirt and the poverty, and that the nice apartment, the brunches, the manicures and the air-conditioned Innova protect me from the harsher realities of life for the average Mumbaikar. Well it’s true that I’m not exactly living on the streets. And yes I am lucky enough to live a relatively lavish life. But every city in the world is held together by the energy of the people who live there. And Bombay's inhabitants, though often poorer than we can even begin to imagine on the more affluent side of the fence, are the most positive, inspiring and intensely giving people I have ever had the privilege to meet and spend time with. And that lifeforce simply fills Bombay's atmosphere, infusing the city with an energy which overwhelms and invigorates. No other city I've ever spent time in, has had this kind of effect upon me. Forget Hong Kong, Singapore, London, LA, San Francisco, Jakarta, Manila, Bangkok, Rome, Paris. All intense and interesting in their own way, but always somehow leaving me a little cold, compared to the passion I feel for Mumbai.

Though life here can be intensely frustrating, difficult and often despairing, small events and incidences drive my love deeper every day. Walking out of my building after a quick chat with the ever smiling doorman, and catching a glimpse of the boiling ocean crashing on to rocks on my drive to the office. The cool relief which the monsoon brings after a long, hot sticky May and the way the tree lined roads turn from dusty brown to green and lush. Swimming in an empty pool at sunset, and listening to the faint sounds of the traffic with water-filled ears. Sitting in the parlour having my toenails painted fuschia pink by a sweet tempered man lost in concentration on getting the brush strokes of polish perfectly even. A deep tissue massage during which all the aches and pains of the day are kneaded away by expert hands. Sitting in the office, listening to the heated debates emanating from every corner, one moment in English, the next in Hindi and then an indecipherable mix. Sitting in the back of a crowded movie theatre, as the cellphones ring, the conversations get louder, the cheers and moans annotate every moment of the hero and heroine's burgeoning love affair. The list is simply endless. And at every moment, every time these small events take place, they add to the love I feel for this city.

Will I ever leave? I am asked this question on an almost daily basis. I don’t believe that anything happens in life by accident. I came here for a reason, I’ve found my soulmate and become a mother here, and now I’m about to set off on a new personal journey. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to leave Mumbai, but I do I know that I’m not ready to leave it just yet.

Celebrating 10 years of working in Asia

Its (almost) my 10 year anniversary of working in Asia. Unbelievable to think that 10 years has flown since I first trod the corporate boards at JWT in Bangkok, followed by jobs at Lowe and UTV in Mumbai. I’ve been a Regional Head, Vice President, Senior Vice President, HR Director, Group HR Head and Channel Head. Not a bad collection of fancy titles for a girl from Devon, though frankly they are all pretty meaningless (as Channel Head I didn’t get to take the final calls on content, I was more the HR Legs than the Head, and I jostled for position with about thirty other Vice Presidents) but they of course count a lot in a country obsessed by ”designations” (job title = status = accolades from friends and family).

So let me take a quick glance back through the last 10 years and reflect on the highs and the lows.

JWT Bangkok was my baptism of fire in the Asian workplace, though relatively speaking, and in the context of what was to come later, it was pretty relaxed all round. I thought I “knew Asia” after a year of backpacking through India, Vietnam, Thailand, Malaysia, Laos, Cambodia, Singapore, Borneo and Indonesia. Well, I suppose I’d just about scratched the surface and had a sniff of the complexities of this region, but I hadn’t really equipped myself with the necessary ammunition to take on a job in which I had to persuade 12 very cynical local marketing teams to adopt strategies which had been devised by white people in fancy London offices. I can hardly blame them for being skeptical – these were ideas written for Thai or Indian housewives by posh blokes whose idea of getting close to the consumer was to head to the local curry house or to order a Thai takeaway. And it was my job to persuade one or the other to give in. It was my choice – either I could side with the whities and persuade the locals that years of international and cross cultural research had resulted in this extremely motivating and insightful idea which they should eagerly grab, or I could throw my lot in with the locals and try to convince the Europeans that they should respect local culture and knowledge and allow the natives to develop their own ideas. Either way I was doomed, and I varied my stance depending on whether I had the energy to fight with a bunch of upper class Brits in the stately surrounds of Mayfair, or whether I fancied taking on the great cultural divide and trying (and usually failing) to understand the nuances and needs of the Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese or Indian consumer. It was exhausting but a lot of fun, I spent my days on planes and in meeting rooms surrounded by the hustle and bustle of Asia, and my nights in bars in five star hotels drinking my expense account dry.

As if that wasn’t enough, I was seduced after 2 years by a similar job in Mumbai. Same client, same role, different Agency. I liked the sound of Mumbai, and had never really got to grips with Thailand, so I bid farewell to the tuk tuks and the bargirls, the whisky red bull buckets and the sleazy sex tourists (yuk!) and jumped on a plane to Mumbai. I’d never really spent any time in Mumbai before and imagined it to be a dirty, polluted fairly soulless city in which I’d probably spend a year or so before moving on to the next exotic location. I couldn’t have been more wrong, on all counts (except the polluted one). From the moment I landed in Mumbai, I loved it. Sure there were slums (clearly visible on landing), crazy traffic and ancient vehicles belting out thick clouds of black smoke. It felt as though I were risking life and limb on the taxi ride from the airport, I’m sure I paid about 4 times the regular taxi fare, and Mumbai smelled really bad, in parts, but still I loved it. It had an energy which was absolutely buzzing, you could literally feel the optimism and the opportunity in the air. The Mumbai job was similar to the Bangkok one in terms of the role, the salary and the clients, but there were also stark differences. For a start, I was the only foreigner in the office, and tasked with creating the first ever regional team, a team which would be required to travel extensively, at a time when travel for work was still considered a huge perk (that’s largely changed now). I was viewed with amusement by the locals, the strange white girl with a tattooed ankle who would disappear for days on end on foreign trips. I was given a company apartment, and was utterly horrified when I was shown around a filthy two bedroomed place with peeling paint on the walls bare electrical wires sprouting everywhere, and cooking stains on the tired looking gas burner. I was assured that it would be cleaned up, but it was a far cry from my luxurious condo in Bangkok. It was subsequently given a facelift and by the time I moved in it was fine, but it taught me a valuable lesson about India – looks can be very deceptive.

I set up my regional team, introduced them to the alien concept of expecting the client to treat you as an equal rather than a slave, and to various bars and restaurants around Asia, and we had a blast. I also gradually assimilated myself into the local agency and eventually became (and still am) good friends with a lot of the Indian employees. After 18 months of trying to make the Surf Excel “Dirt is Good” global strategy work for Asian markets (and superlative efforts to convince a similar bunch of white guys in London that in India, dirt is NOT always good), I was informed that my clients were all relocating to Bangkok and I’d have to go back there to continue the job. By this time I’d fallen completely in love with Bombay and the prospect of returning to Bangkok was impossible to contemplate. And so I was suddenly jobless, and more importantly, visa-less and facing the prospect of either having to find another job (and jobs for foreigners weren’t that plentiful) or leaving India.

After a couple of months spent drinking beer in Goa, I decided to pay a visit to the CEO of Lowe, the agency which I’d just left. Over a cup of tea, he completely took me by surprise by offering me the position of HR Director for the agency. I choked on my tea. I knew nothing about HR and had no training whatsoever in the discipline. He told me that he had a feeling that it would work out well. India is like that, it throws crazy experiences in your way, and you either duck (and miss out) or embrace them. And so overnight I became an HR Head, and despite an enormous salary slash (this was a “local” job without any of the expat perks) I discovered that I loved it. I spent the next 6 years as an HR Head, so I can’t have been altogether bad at it. I found that I had a natural affinity for people, enjoyed solving their problems and even being a shoulder to cry on, loved the fact that my team was brilliant and taught me heaps, and had a blast organizing parties and events.

In a similarly random fashion I also ended up as the channel head for one of India’s largest youth channels, whilst simultaneously holding down the HR Group role at UTV (I moved from Lowe to UTV in 2007). In retrospect perhaps not the wisest move, either one of those jobs was hugely challenging, and two was madness. But I loved the role, even though I knew nothing about TV apart from years of watching it, I was and still am passionate about content and had a background in marketing so it worked pretty well and I am proud of the work we did on the channel. However, I was literally glued to my blackberry 24/7, would eat, dream and sleep work and though intoxicating it was exhausting. Pregnancy eventually put an end to the two job thing, and I was asked to choose between them. I chose the (by now) more familiar territory of the HR role, and returned to a 10 hour day with free time at weekends which was relatively luxurious.

And now I’ve decided to give it all up for the time being. I’m tired to the point where I no longer have much enthusiasm for my work. I’m sick of getting up and going to the office every day, battling the traffic jams morning and evening and dodging office politics. I’m longing for a few months during which I can focus on simple pleasures – spending time with my one year old, cooking for my husband (yes really!), reconnecting with old friends and chilling with my family in the UK – with no Blackberry Breaks. And of course, writing. I am passionate about it, and intend to write write write. Watch this space.

Re-entering the blogosphere

Its official. After a break of almost three years, during which I've settled into married life, wined, dined, partied, become a PIO (Person of Indian Origin), had a baby, bought a house and finally quit my job, its time to return to the Blogosphere. I've actually been an on off blogger for 6 years - I've gone through all the stages : been obsessed by blogging, overdone it, revealed the murkier details of my life to the entire world, realised the error of that, gone cold turkey, pulled the blog down, started a new one (this one) and again fizzled out thanks to a combination of too much work and generally feeling uninspired. Now I'm back, fully charged and with a lot of time on my hands having just given up my very stressful job as head of a department for a big media company. I'm exhausted frankly, my brain is refusing to co-operate when challenged with the minutae of corporate life, and I choose instead to turn to a life (however fleeting) of playing with my year old baby, cooking for my husband (yes really!!), travelling and rekindling connections with old friends (leaving comments on their Facebook statuses is no longer good enough) and of course writing. I'm in the middle of a book which I'm really excited by, and if it doesn't get published, then you'll see it on this very blog :). I'm going to try very hard to relax, wind down, and make the most of this sabbatical, the first after a very long ten years of working in Asia.