On occasion Dad has been known to say some very thought-provoking things. Thankfully he says these things repeatedly so they are bound to sink in at some point, even if it does take “uh-hum” number of years for it to happen. One of his sayings that has most recently come home to roost is “I hope my life never depends on a flashlight or a telephone”. The flashlight we will deal with later. As for the telephone, let’s start with the battery.
For those who live in a first-world country and have the ability to both plan and follow through with a plan, battery life really isn’t a concern. If however you live somewhere other than a first-world county, forget it.
The mere possession of planning and implementation skills, no matter how razor sharp those skills may be, are no match for the havoc that blackouts and power load sharing have on ensuring a fully charged battery.
One trick used by those living in other than first-world countries is to take advantage of unexpected power bursts by plugging in the charger and telephone in the midst of a blackout. The reasoning is that sooner or later the electricity is bound to start up again. When taking this leap of faith however one must know for certain that the wiring in the domicile you currently reside can handle the electricity surge and won’t burn down shortly after the electricity starts up again.
Then there is the matter of prepaid airtime. A great concept, pay for your calls in advance. The concept however requires not only good planning and implementation skills but also excellent budgeting skills and pockets for emergency cash. In Kampala, one can purchase airtime from vendors walking in and amongst the city’s congested traffic, fondly referred to by Kampalans as “jams”.
“How much airtime is that?” you ask the guy while waving a bill at him in denominations you only dreamed about as a kid. “How much airtime do I get for twenty thousand?” The guy is distracted because as much he is focused on making a living he is also focused on staying alive not getting hit by passing vehicles, motorcycles, or bicycles.
“Well,” he says when it is safe, “it depends”. I take the airtime but only because he has taken my cash. After a moment it occurs to me to wonder if he was actually an HR professional in disguise. After all, he just gave the most perfect HR answer to any question. I look through the back window but he is gone. Days later, in the midst of a conversation that is critical to my career, I find out just how much airtime twenty thousand buys.
These are just a few of the technical reasons as to why one should hope their life will never depend on a telephone. Let’s address issues of actual communication.
“I thought you said 50 burritos!” you say to your colleague trying to juggle the burritos, your computer, the AV equipment, and the easel all at the same time. “50!” they exclaim, too busy laughing to help, “No, no, no. One-Five, not Five Oh!” And this is with someone who grew up speaking the same first language you do.
What about the miscommunications, on the telephone or otherwise, with those you may share a native language with but not the accent or slang? I know an Australian with whom we have had to rely on our limited knowledge of Swahili as our common language to ensure we understood one another multiple times. There are of course other Australians who I like just fine but I truly don’t understand anything they say.
Now, if you haven’t had the pleasure of doing so, imagine having a conversation on the telephone with someone who learned two other languages before learning your native, and only, language. Face-to-face conversations are difficult enough between people from different linguistic backgrounds when non-verbal cues can’t be called forth as back-up and smiles can’t be used to ease tension. Having a conversation with the added “convenience” of a telephone that allows for communication to take place in the middle of a jam on the back of a motorcycle or in rural African villages where children clamor for your attention can be a downright nightmare.
“When are you picking up the stuff?” I asked the driver who was assigned to pick up the stuff. I had one hand holding the telephone tightly over my right ear to better hear his response. My other hand was held tightly over my other ear to drown out noise from the jam. The Driver’s voice had an added level of excitement when he answered, “His Excellency Hastings Kamuzu Banda visited the village in 1987. It was a tremendous time and many friends were there to welcome him.” The Driver was thrilled that I had asked and couldn’t wait to finish the story. Thankfully, this was a rare situation; we had hours before the delivery had to be made, I had just purchased some airtime and for whatever reason, I had a fully charged battery and we actually able to enjoy the unexpected direction the conversation took.
Since working in not first-world countries, my answer to the problem has been to avoid using the telephone at all. If I have an office, I make sure people feel welcome. If they don’t or if they don’t come willingly to my office I quite simply track them down. I understand this technique may not always be possible but honestly, I’ve been surprised by how much more possible it has been then I thought it would be.
The result of all this has been, for me anyway, far less tension and far more fun. Conversations still divert into unexpected directions, but in person these diversions are much easier to navigate and a lot more interesting than they are on the telephone. Not only that, the diversions have taught me a lot more about my colleagues, about myself and I have heard some truly remarkable stories.
So you will have to excuse me if for now I continue to avoid using the telephone. The method seems to be working for me and frankly, I am enjoying getting out of the office and engaging in real communication with colleagues. Besides, MSF telephones are scary; they now come with a flashlight. Ay yi yi, don’t tell Dad.
Originally posted with www.hrcsuite.com.
www.catherinecarr.global
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