CityHangover Guestblog Vol VIII
About a month ago, I had the pleasure of backpacking (for a week or two, at least) across Southern Africa with Dr. Rajat Gupta. (I can imagine many of you assume I'm still wandering aimlessly somewhere in the hills of Swaziland, but that's neither here nor there.) Given that I pulled DRG away from curing AIDS, eliminating the conflict diamond trade, and generally saving the world from a Botswanan hospital, we shall stretch the "Guestblog" guidelines for one final entry.
With that, my friends, I present the first CityHangover Guestblog to originate nowhere near London. Coincidentally, today's entry is the first (and probably last) to be absolutely free of hangovers. It is a testament to the trip that I even made it through...
How To Win Friends and Influence People: Lessons learned from 8-days in Southern Africa
Eight days is not much time to travel in Africa, but I had the pleasure of sprinting across a corner of the continent with finance extraordinaire CJB. By applying a few simple management techniques learned in the corporate world’s boardrooms, we were able to see and do more than I could have hoped for. Now I share these secrets of success with all of you, with the hope that you can apply them to your lives and African safaris as needed.
Sexual Harassment: A Team-building Activity For Every Group: On Day #2 we left crime-riddled Johannesburg for a pre-arranged Safari-in-a-box. For a couple thousand Rand we were assured a ride from Johannesburg to Kruger National Park, room and board for 3 days, and open vehicle guided tours through the park. Noticeably missing was a promise that we’d see the Big Five animals—Lion, Leopard, Buffalo, Elephant, and Rhinoceros. Anyone can see a worthless Zebra or Giraffe, but success is determined by the Big 5. Three out of five is acceptable, four out of five impressive, and five out of five unheard of. By the end of our first day we were stuck at 1 out of 5 (and a goddamn buffalo at that), so the pressure was really on for day two.
Lucky for us, the next morning kicked off with the perfect start. One of the women in our safari group had a little too much to drink the night before, and spent the night with a gentleman she met at the bar. Clearly setting an alarm wasn’t on their list of priorities, and at sunrise she had to be found, awoken, and rushed to the jeep so we could start the safari on time. CJB seized the opportunity for team building, and orchestrated a round of applause as she made the walk of shame. The jokes kept coming through the morning, and everyone got in at least one good zinger. Our safari guide was clearly better at innuendo than spotting animals, and he was followed by a randy Frenchmen, Pascal, his fellow French expatriate Chantele, Aaron the chain-smoking Australian, and even a married Dutch couple chiming in. You could feel the tension of needing to see the Big 5 melt away with every dirty joke, and that’s when the animals started rolling in. Lions, Rhinos, and Elephants started showing up out of nowhere, and at the very end the coup de grace came with a spotted leopard eating an impala.
Some would say we sacrificed the dignity of one of our own for the good of the team, but she was a great sport the whole time, and was just as happy to see the Big 5 as we were. So there it is, sexual harassment—a victimless crime.
Everything is a Negotiation: Fresh off the success of conquering the Big 5 we decided to trek to Mozambique with Aaron the chain-smoking Australian. Mozambique may be the land of beautiful beaches along the clear blue water of the Indian Ocean, but getting there is easier said than done. Since we hadn’t arranged visas beforehand we couldn’t take direct buses to the capital city, Maputo. Instead we made makeshift arrangements to travel in mini-buses, which basically means “dudes with vans”. One mini-bus took us to the border, and we figured after a quick stop at the immigration office we could find a comfortable ride to Maputo. That did not happen.
Turns out they only recently completed a violent revolution to overthrow the Socialist regime, and the immigration office is still run like a Soviet-era bread line. And it was hot like I can’t even explain. After waiting in line we were dripping with sweat, which made filling out the forms written in Portuguese all the more interesting. By the time we got our passports stamped all the air-conditioned buses had left, leaving us with few options. I halfway expected to spend the night at the border, but luckily there was a mini-bus headed for Maputo. We knew it wasn’t going to be comfortable with 16 people packed into an 8-seater van, and we knew it wouldn’t be safe packing into the 20 year old pile of junk, but at least we knew it was going to be cheap—just 3 dollars a person.
But clearly I know nothing about the art of corporate negotiation. So CJB stepped into talk the driver down by 5 rand, which is about 60 cents. 60 cents?!?! 60 cents. Even better, the driver had no idea how to respond. I mean three years ago this guy was living in a Communist country, so the capitalist rules of engagement did not apply. He shook his head and muttered something in Portuguese (which I bet loosely translates to: From Each According To His Ability, To Each According To His Need). Without other options we just turned back and paid the original price.
Once we got to Maputo we saw the cultural insensitivity of our tactics. We were staying on Mao Tse Tung Avenue; a stones throw from the intersection of Vladmir Lenin and Ho Chi Min. The lesson learned: In countries without a Mao Tse Tung Avenue, everything is a negotiation.
Common Sense Trumps Executive Decision Making: Our final adventure took us to Swaziland, where we were reunited in the picturesque mountains with the randy Frenchmen, Pascal. The decision we were agonizing over was whether to go white-water rafting on the Great Usuthu River, which sounds great until I tell you that a medical school professor of mine who was working in Botswana was EATEN BY A CROCIDILE ON A NEARBY RIVER. That’s right, eaten by a crocodile. No matter how irrational it sounded, I did not want to go rafting.
CJB, however, brought the art of executive decision making to our dilemma. He quickly decided not to raft, but before we even knew it we were carrying our bright yellow crocodile-attracting raft to the river bank. I still don’t know what happened there, but am glad it worked out how it did. We even got tossed out of the raft on a couple of rapids, but crocodiles be damned we got back in and finished the trip.
And there it is, three easy to apply business principles that will streamline efficiency in your next African safari. Enjoy.
With that, my friends, I present the first CityHangover Guestblog to originate nowhere near London. Coincidentally, today's entry is the first (and probably last) to be absolutely free of hangovers. It is a testament to the trip that I even made it through...
How To Win Friends and Influence People: Lessons learned from 8-days in Southern Africa
Eight days is not much time to travel in Africa, but I had the pleasure of sprinting across a corner of the continent with finance extraordinaire CJB. By applying a few simple management techniques learned in the corporate world’s boardrooms, we were able to see and do more than I could have hoped for. Now I share these secrets of success with all of you, with the hope that you can apply them to your lives and African safaris as needed.
Sexual Harassment: A Team-building Activity For Every Group: On Day #2 we left crime-riddled Johannesburg for a pre-arranged Safari-in-a-box. For a couple thousand Rand we were assured a ride from Johannesburg to Kruger National Park, room and board for 3 days, and open vehicle guided tours through the park. Noticeably missing was a promise that we’d see the Big Five animals—Lion, Leopard, Buffalo, Elephant, and Rhinoceros. Anyone can see a worthless Zebra or Giraffe, but success is determined by the Big 5. Three out of five is acceptable, four out of five impressive, and five out of five unheard of. By the end of our first day we were stuck at 1 out of 5 (and a goddamn buffalo at that), so the pressure was really on for day two.
Lucky for us, the next morning kicked off with the perfect start. One of the women in our safari group had a little too much to drink the night before, and spent the night with a gentleman she met at the bar. Clearly setting an alarm wasn’t on their list of priorities, and at sunrise she had to be found, awoken, and rushed to the jeep so we could start the safari on time. CJB seized the opportunity for team building, and orchestrated a round of applause as she made the walk of shame. The jokes kept coming through the morning, and everyone got in at least one good zinger. Our safari guide was clearly better at innuendo than spotting animals, and he was followed by a randy Frenchmen, Pascal, his fellow French expatriate Chantele, Aaron the chain-smoking Australian, and even a married Dutch couple chiming in. You could feel the tension of needing to see the Big 5 melt away with every dirty joke, and that’s when the animals started rolling in. Lions, Rhinos, and Elephants started showing up out of nowhere, and at the very end the coup de grace came with a spotted leopard eating an impala.
Some would say we sacrificed the dignity of one of our own for the good of the team, but she was a great sport the whole time, and was just as happy to see the Big 5 as we were. So there it is, sexual harassment—a victimless crime.
Everything is a Negotiation: Fresh off the success of conquering the Big 5 we decided to trek to Mozambique with Aaron the chain-smoking Australian. Mozambique may be the land of beautiful beaches along the clear blue water of the Indian Ocean, but getting there is easier said than done. Since we hadn’t arranged visas beforehand we couldn’t take direct buses to the capital city, Maputo. Instead we made makeshift arrangements to travel in mini-buses, which basically means “dudes with vans”. One mini-bus took us to the border, and we figured after a quick stop at the immigration office we could find a comfortable ride to Maputo. That did not happen.
Turns out they only recently completed a violent revolution to overthrow the Socialist regime, and the immigration office is still run like a Soviet-era bread line. And it was hot like I can’t even explain. After waiting in line we were dripping with sweat, which made filling out the forms written in Portuguese all the more interesting. By the time we got our passports stamped all the air-conditioned buses had left, leaving us with few options. I halfway expected to spend the night at the border, but luckily there was a mini-bus headed for Maputo. We knew it wasn’t going to be comfortable with 16 people packed into an 8-seater van, and we knew it wouldn’t be safe packing into the 20 year old pile of junk, but at least we knew it was going to be cheap—just 3 dollars a person.
But clearly I know nothing about the art of corporate negotiation. So CJB stepped into talk the driver down by 5 rand, which is about 60 cents. 60 cents?!?! 60 cents. Even better, the driver had no idea how to respond. I mean three years ago this guy was living in a Communist country, so the capitalist rules of engagement did not apply. He shook his head and muttered something in Portuguese (which I bet loosely translates to: From Each According To His Ability, To Each According To His Need). Without other options we just turned back and paid the original price.
Once we got to Maputo we saw the cultural insensitivity of our tactics. We were staying on Mao Tse Tung Avenue; a stones throw from the intersection of Vladmir Lenin and Ho Chi Min. The lesson learned: In countries without a Mao Tse Tung Avenue, everything is a negotiation.
Common Sense Trumps Executive Decision Making: Our final adventure took us to Swaziland, where we were reunited in the picturesque mountains with the randy Frenchmen, Pascal. The decision we were agonizing over was whether to go white-water rafting on the Great Usuthu River, which sounds great until I tell you that a medical school professor of mine who was working in Botswana was EATEN BY A CROCIDILE ON A NEARBY RIVER. That’s right, eaten by a crocodile. No matter how irrational it sounded, I did not want to go rafting.
CJB, however, brought the art of executive decision making to our dilemma. He quickly decided not to raft, but before we even knew it we were carrying our bright yellow crocodile-attracting raft to the river bank. I still don’t know what happened there, but am glad it worked out how it did. We even got tossed out of the raft on a couple of rapids, but crocodiles be damned we got back in and finished the trip.
And there it is, three easy to apply business principles that will streamline efficiency in your next African safari. Enjoy.
posted by cjb at 3:02 AM
2 Comments:
i'm somewhat concerned that dr. raj gupta is touting sexual harassment as a victimless crime.
obviously he's never shared a cab ride home with CJB.
sharona, i was *there* for that fateful cab ride home, and it's like we've had an unspoken bond ever since. yet another example of CJB-initiated sexual harrassment=team building activity.
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