Rajasthan: Glorious, bloody and spectacular

That was how the audio tour of Jodhpur Palace sought to sum up the history of Rajasthan among other similar melodrama: "Glorious, bloody and spectacular."  Fortunately our road trip around what the tour also called the "Land of Kings" has only been glorious and spectacular and something I would urge anyone to find the time to do.  Its a region of quite remarkable beauty not only in terms of its countryside - varying from desert to jungle - but also in its architecture, artwork and of course its people. 

After what has seemed a relentlessly intense and overwhelming journey across North India through infamously crowded metropolae such as Calcutta, Varanasi and Agra; Rajashtan has offered some very welcome respite from India at its most.  The people have taken tourist-bating - the sport of continued interference, salesmanship and confidence tricks - down several gears bringing new freedom in our willingness to engage with them.  (Although that is not to say that the endless game of "come to my Emporium - no obligation to buy" - hasn't been pursued with the same enthusiasm).

What is so marvellous about this part of India is that for the citadels of Jaipur, Jasielmer, Jodhpur, Udaipur and many others, all the mystery, romance, chivalry of the desert and its kings are not fairytale fantasies but instead the extraordinary facts of a thrilling history.  Magical and at times preposterous, tours of the palaces and hill-top forts that pepper this land reveal the stuff not only of legend but of Bollywood script.  Maharajas, Maharinis, elephants armies and breathtaking treasure form the backbone of the history of Rajasthan in a character that becomes almost predictable.  The opulence of the regal palaces is some of some of the most awesome artwork - both islamic and Hindu - and the impregnable nature of the forts bely a past that still seems tangible today (in a way that we discovered quite personally and surprisingly).

In many ways, despite twenty-first century trappings such as mobile phone branding, Bollywood and the internet, Rajasthan has not changed all that much and Indians remain as deeply embroiled in their relationship with the deities as they were then.  Many of the Maharajas still sit on their thrones - most notably in Jaipur - and the influence of their ancestors is palpable and ubiquitous, particularly in the way their monuments literally overshadow the modern cities.  But for most Indians, life is no different than it was in the days of the Moghuls.  A detour on the Silk Route, the area still does a roaring - and quite regionally specialised - trade in all the same products: gems in Jaipur, silver in Jaiselmer and spices in Jodhpur.  Continueing the history of the place as a bastion, and only 130 km away from the Pakistan Border, Rajasthan boasts countless army deployments off everything from helicopter gunships to camel contingents.  In the corner of an museum in BIkiner Fort we discovered the relatively obscure Maharaja (Ganga Singh) in a painting containing Lloyd-George, Winston Churchill and Lord Kitchener as THE Indian military representative to a meeting of the Imperial War Cabinet fighting the First World War.

The desert reality of Rajasthan is ever present with every camel that walks down the street and the experience is incomplete without a camel trek (advisedly brief) across dunes into the sunset.  My own highlight of this part of the trip underlies the magic of the place as watched a traditionally dressed muslim emerge (pictured above) from the dune-haze like a mirage while talking on a mobile phone in order to sell us beers as we watched the sunset vista.  It confirmed like nothing else the maxim we are often reminded of: "in India, anything is possible".

(I must take a brief moment here to praise the network of people who ensured we had a smooth, enriching and rewarding tour.  Janu of Janu's private tours introduced himself to us at Jaipur Train station and from that moment set about tirelessly attending to our logistics and welcome with remarkable astuteness and resourcefulness.  Rakesh, the driver/guide Janu appointed to our service drove us around all of Rajasthan with the care and attention of a true professional. Sanjay of Sanjay's Villas in Jaiselmer laid on the most enduring memorable excursion into the Desert involving not only aforementioned camels and beers but also quite oppulent "gl-amping" and the romance of peasant folk music.  As well as their man in Udaipur - Jamel - I sincerely recommend that anyone venturing into their domain plug into this highly capable and cost-effective network to get the very best out of their stay here.

While I've come out of Rajasthan with any number of my own stories, including our Christmas retreat in a living Maharaja's Palace by the lake in Dangapur, it is some of the yarns I've picked up along the way that will define this adventure.  There's the little nine-year-old girl we found perfectly tight-rope walking - without a safety net - seven feet up outside the gates to Jaiselmer Fort.  Her own father had been disabled and so her mother had set her to work monitizing the amazement of tourists for the sake of the family's survival.  The look of concentration and determination on that little girl's face is one of the most inspiring things I've ever seen.  Then there's the devotee who volunteered to be buried alive in the foundations of the 15th Century Fort at Jodhpur as the human sacrifice to negate the curse placed on its future by the disgruntled hermit who was evicted from his mountain-top retreat to make way for it.  

FInally, there's the quite astonishing story of Kuldhara.  Quoting the "Travelenz" Blog: 

"The story is that the Diwan of Jaisalmer,  Salim Singh, is believed to have developed a lecherous eye for the village chief’s daughter who was stunningly beautiful. He was keen on adding the beautiful lady to his harem or else face the threat of unreasonable taxes. With pride and honour overruling all worldly interests, the chiefs of the 84 villages decided to go away in a single night with whatever they could carry with them leaving behind not just their homes but also a curse. That anyone who tried to live in the village would perish."

The spooky ruin of streets, houses, temples and wells that remains to this day is the greatest testament not only to the mystery and romance of the desert but also to the sheer mystery and insanity of India.

 

The Taj Mahal: Heaven on earth

Entering the Taj Mahal grounds at dawn is like opening a birthday present and every step closer is like removing another layer of wrapping paper. The palpable sense of excitement exudes from almost everyone entering with you - for the vast majority of visitors the experience usually has once-in-a-lifetime billing. 

I've done a few of the big, world-famous tourist landmarks: the Sydney Opera House, the Vatican, the Acropolis, The Empire State Building etc etc. Almost always these monuments are so over-exposed in photography that you know them so well by the time you visit them that they are something of a disappointment, a let down. In the same way as seeing a TV star in real life you feel like saying, "you look taller on TV." But the Taj over delivers, exceeds expectations and takes you quite by surprise in the degree of awe it inspires in you. It isn't just a beautiful building, but a beautiful place, a beautiful environment surrounded by a beautiful garden. What it does to your disposition and the memory it leaves you with is far more impact full than the way it pleases your eyes.  It was designed to represent heaven on earth for the wife of a powerful Moghul - Shah Jahan - but for a short few hours represents heaven on earth for all it's visitors too. 

One of the characteristics that makes the Taj so magical is that the light dances off the marble in so many different ways as the day matures that it is always changing. Dawn is a celebrated time to visit it as it catches the early morning sunrise light so beautifully. We were slightly too late to catch any crimson hues, but as we arrived the structure was almost translucent. Many of our early photos look as if we are standing in front of a faus movie set rather than an actual three dimensional reality. The marble is so pure and clean, and it's designs, carvings and embellishments so perfect, that it is a feast of movement and dynamism as the sun travels through the sky rather than a static vista.  

While many complain about the touts and hawkers in Agra, and the hassle tourists undergo; I must say that from my own experience, in comparison to what we had just endured in Varanasi - it's a walk in the park. Certainly do not let Agra's reputation it this area dissuade you. 

I understand now so clearly why the picture of Princess Diana looking glum alone on a bench in front of the Taj Mahal came to symbolise the way things weren't all rosey in Buckingham Palace. If you don't have an stupid smile on your face throughout your visit to this wonderful place, something is seriously wrong.

But that said, there is something very sad about the story of the Taj, and while this doesn't detract from the happiness the builds and it's grounds brings you, it does bring a certain pathos to the experience that gives this visit depth and humanity. It took 20 years to build and some of the marble work - to his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who bore him a staggering 14 children - still remains to this day the finest workmanship you will see. Sadly, his own son, Aurangzeb overthrew him and imprisoned him in a marble palace-prison within the Agra Fort across the river where he sat and gazed at the romantic tribute he had built for his dead, beloved wife for 8 long years before he died in 1666.

But just as some believe he was able to join his wife in heaven after he died, his body was entombed next to her's deep inside this physical and atmospheric representation of the after-life below where you can see replicas of their tombs side-by-side and ponder the infinity of true love. For me, I don't think there's a more profound manifestation of a man's love for a woman anywhere on earth. I think it is the spirit of this gesture that leaves you with such a warm glow as you leave, as much as it is the more temporal experience.

In short if you ever get the chance to visit, do so. It most certainly is bucket-list calibre - something you must do before you die. 

Varanasi - My Take-out from "Temple Town"

I'm not sure why I wanted to return to Varanasi, and after watching how little I enjoyed this visit, my partner (@Terresa_Joy) who hadn't been before - was certainly confused. I think that like Tequilla, Varanasi seems to have a great ability to re-engineer your memory of itself, leaving you with a fond certainty it is worth a repeat performance. But beyond that, there is something unbelievably compelling about a place that celebrates death as much as life; is home to cow, pig, goat, monkey and mouse as much as it is home to human; and that in so many ways seems timelessly independent to the rest of the world.

There are a couple of inescapable characteristics of the place that underline that compelling aspect right from the get-go. A city of more than a million people, and some three-and-a-half thousand years in age at its oldest part - the old city (Godaulia) - is stacked against riverside ghats (steps) alongside one side of the Holy Ganges, while on the other side of the river...nothing. Nothing at all. Mudflats. A vast flood plain usually shrouded in a polluted smog that casts a quite incredible red mist over the sun when it rises from behind it. 

The river itself, a perennial giver of a Holy Hindu Life-force, is at once a heavily polluted waterway and a holy relic of an ancient yarn involving Shiva, his dead wife and a heavenly funeral. As such, people come from all over this vast nation to undergo a lengthy and ancient ritual in order to see their loved one cremated, right there on the ghats and the ashes thrown into the river. (Some, though, are not cremated, and are instead tied to a stone and thrown in - such as pregnant women, children and animals - because their innocence negates the need to atone in fire. Problem is, they can break free from their dead weight and float down the river!) The so-called "burning ghats" - which are publicly accessible - burn the deceased 24 hours a day, (2-3 hours per corpse) surrounded by huge piles of wood, grieving relatives, and bemused cows and dogs feeding on the rubbish that - as everywhere here - lies all around.

Not everything is so grim though. As we journeyed into the town from the airport, our progress was blocked by a huge wedding party, causing an enormous traffic jam that took about 15 minutes to clear. Lead by the groom on a ornately decorated elephant, the procession included two other guests on the back of a donkey, huge mobile neon lighting and a bass band. 

December is wedding season here, and all across "temple-town" huge wedding parties block the streets and bring the city to a sta

nd still. The 15km drive from the airport took over an hour. It finished a ten-minute walk short of our destination as the Old City hotel we were staying in can only be reached by foot or two-wheels because the Dickensian streets are usually not even as wide as your outstretched arms. This is important because the two wheels include motorbikes, and the feet can include those of cows. Our progress was impeded for some time while two huge cows blocked our way as they slowly attempted to turn around in an alley way narrower than their own length. Footwork is precarious as the nicest streets are layered with a slippery veneer of quite ripe cow and dog excrement.

So it's an interesting place! What ruins it, apart from the almost certain inevitability of sickness (which certainly took the edge off my stay) are the hawkers and wallahs (many of them charming, cute, cheeky and cunning children) whose constant sales activity is ubiquitous and relentless and usually dishonest. At one level it is the place in the world where any budding salesperson should visit to learn the art of overcome objections. 
"Boat?"
"no thanks"
"good price"
"no thanks"
"maybe tomorrow?"

And so on. There is no such answer as "no", they simply do not hear it. They fundamentally believe in the power of their persuasive skills. A "no" now can easily become a "yes" in the future, it is only a moment in time in a process that will see you ultimately relent. Boats are merely one commodity in a city seemingly entirely pointed at relieving tourists of all their available cash. Silk is the speciality product of Varanasi and everyone who tells you "I am not a guide" is instead on commission from a silk shop and their apparently generous efforts to show you around eventually culminate in an emotionally-laden request for you to visit said shop and buy overpriced things.

Other scams include the time-honored massage scam which I only remembered - 15 years later - just as I entered its grip, literally. A chap will march up to you enthusiastically and offer his hand to shake, with a jolly "namaste, sir!". What harm can that do, you think. The hand shake quickly becomes a tight massage grip and before you know where you are you are lying face down on a filthy wooden platform on the ghat receiving a fairly ordinary going-over. On this occasion I was able to remember the trick just in time and ripped my hand away. But it is quite counter-intuitive to resist all these offers of friendship. Genius. 

One I did keep falling for is the third-eye blessing, a holy-looking priest approaches you in full Hindu get-up and plants a big red dot on your third eye while wishing you and your family all manner of good will and fortune. Hard to reject that kind of bonhomerie. Priest, schmeist - there is of course a bill. 

I could go on, but you get the picture. Wherever you are in Varanasi, there is always someone in your ear (and at night time the commodity range mutates to include hashish, cannabis and opium). And what makes it so overwhelming is that so much of the pitch is emotional. So many negotiations invoked at some point the seller's need to feed his family, and the phrase "oh sir, you break my heart" is quite clearly a mainstay in the "wallah's guide to fleecing tourists" phrase book. As with death and marriage, Varanasi is a crucible of commerce at its most intense. Everything has a price, everyone is a potential customer and no moment is a rest from it.

Finally, one more component is sheer movement. Traffic - be that on foot or on wheels - is bedlam. Right of way is given to the boldest, who may travel up the middle of the street - or alleyway - as fast he or she dare. When that boldness subsides in the face of someone far more bold - who could be a four-wheel-drive, a bus or a large cow - then they must blend into the less bold traffic relegated to the left, who in turn must yield to let you in. No one "gives way" in the western sense of the phrase, and there is no lane-type order. People simply dodge and weave, usually at speed and with only millimeters to spare. They know the rules and as chaotic as it appears, no one seems to hit anyone. However, to the uninitiated, it seems pure anarchy...and very, very dangerous.

Even now as I "speed" away on the train from what seemed such a dreadful place only hours before, I am beginning to realise that Varanasi is a far better memory than it is an experience. As  @Terresa_Joy  said summing it up beautifully: "you are amazed you found your way out of that labyrinth alive with money still left in your pocket, for at the time neither of those things seem remotely possible!"

An Ode to the Uber-Roi

We would hereby like to propose the Kolkata Oberoi Grand as a Harvard Business School Case Study in Customer Service Best Practice.

We have stayed here for the best part of a week and feel that the customer service ethic here is second to none.  There is a culture of service rarely seen in the modern world, and it should be documented to help businesses better understand how to serve the customer.

The Oberoi is a superb experience from ambience and comfort point of view anyway, and needs only a modest level of service to make for the perfect getaway and a welcome retreat from the mayhem of Kolkata.  But our experience has been that it is the service that has made this week so incredibly memorable.

The attention to detail has been surprising, nothing forgotten and every whim catered for.  The follow-up on requests and desires has been religious and most importantly the time taken to chat with and make us welcome - amid a very busy and demanding workload - has been quite remarkable.  

On many an occasion, restaurant orders were given regular updates on progress, "sir your meal is a little late but will be here wihtin two-three minutes" was a regular example, and never actually prompted or solicited.

The information too, advice, tips and recommendations have been quite informative and have added tremedous value to our stay.  The care put into even the smallest of elements - for instance the presentation of laundry pictured above.  The consierge service in particular was excellent and no effort spared in ensuring superb experiences, and characteristically again always followed-up with progress reports.  In particular the chef always made sure he came out to provide context and background to the traditional Bengali dishes served and the cocktail waitress going to special overnight efforts to prepare Martinis she thought would suit our tastes.  

I really cannot say enough complimentary things about this experience.  Anyone staying in Kolkata should certainly consider the extra expense of a stay with the Uber-Roi; but it is even worth adding Kolkata to a tour of the sub-continent purely to enjoy this quite splendid legacy of a by-gone age to revive such a culture.

Harvard - put it on the to-do list.  Thank you to all who work at the Oberoi Grand.

Calcutta's Colosseum

It is known as The Colosseum - mainly because of its shape and a chequered history of inhospitable crowds and poor odds for visiting teams - but the first time I saw Calcutta's Eden Gardens about 15 years ago, I dared to dream that one day I might see England play there.  Through a quirk of fate, that dream came true this week, and it has not remotely disapointed.  Not only has the cricket been tremendously enjoyable - including fine performances from two of the world's greatest test batsmen- but the atmosphere has been electric, just as I imagined.

Getting to the ground was more than a challenge. Because of the heat, and unlike most test cricketing nations that kick off around 11am, Test matches in India begin at 9am, so we failed to get there on time due to an abject inability to read the small print on the tickets.  That failure was even more punnishing when we got there to be told that cameras of any kind were "not permitted" (something else mentioned on the tickets) and so we had to walk back to the hotel to leave them behind.  Although only a short 20 minute walk, that walk took us through the Calcutta Bus Station - easily the worst square half mile I've ever been in, full of the most putrid smells and rotten filth and fraught with the danger of traffic and the sad sights of tiny, often injured and certainly destitute puppies.  

Finally we made it along to the ground, and were soon put upon by one of the stranger invasions of privacy I've experienced.  It is often said that one of the problems with India is that you can find yourself being stared at by a crowd people as you go about your business.  This annoyance reached new heights as a TV camerman parked himself infront of us as we watched the cricket and trained his lense on us...for about 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes he relaxed his tired arm, but instead of walking away or focussing on the cricket as we hoped he might; he instead called up his tripod carrier so he could film us some more without effort!  We weren't entirely sure why we drew so much attention, but we eventually concluded it was True-Aussie Terresa's "I love India" hat!

While Terresa made her colours clear, I too had ended up accidently wearing my sympathies on my sleave - literally.  On the way to the ground a chap offered to paint the St George Cross on my arm.  I said "no" but he refused to listen and did it anyway.  However, the badly painted white and blood-red cross led most people to just think I had sustained an injury!

The first day we cooked in the hot Calcutta sun, ironic of course as England's Captain is named Alistair Cook.  England accounted for themselves well and held India to 270-odd at stumps, taking the crucial wicket of Sachin Tendulkar well short of the century his adoring fans had hoped for.  We made it along in the afternoon for the second day and by then England had bowled out India for a modest 316 and were well on the way to a controlling first innings total with the Captain and opener on the way to a century of his own.

Yet at times - in this ground well known for its riots and once referred to as a "Cauldron" (by Bob Willis - one of the only English 11 to win here) - various incidents of crowd insanity were far more compelling than the genteel events at the crease.  The ground certainly boasts the noisiest and fastest Mexican Wave of any I've been in.  The Barmy army -  who usually command any ground they visit - had been strangely silent on day one and, I suspect, probably didn't expect to be spending the day in a "dry" ground. By Day two, however, they were far more rowdy - had they all found a creative way to smuggle in alcohol I wondered?  But pretty soon the Indians had crowded out their area and at times drowned out their tunes - I've seen the barny army quiet, but never silenced.  Luckily they had brought a trumpet which certainly helped.

 

Most of all though, the adulation for the "Little Master", Sachin Tendulkar, is beyond hero worship. Whenever he was posted to the boundary to field, the crowd flocked to meet him like so many moths to a flame. In fact the crowd followed him to such a degree soldiers were deployed to manage them wherever Sachin went to field, often getting crushed against the fencing in their efforts.  The sheer noise of their excitement at his very presence was indeed deafening and always detracted from the cricket.  In fact, noise and heat were - as I had expected 15 years before - the overwhelming aspects of this experience.  Very few people could concentrate at the crease against the din raised on Sharma's run up or when Trott faced his first ball.  But - I am happy to say - England proved solid and unswayable and could be - as I write - on their way to their first victory here since the 70s.

Our Eden Gardens adventure ended as it had began - on the TV.  A TV interview for both of us on our exit of the ground about our views on the match.  I said that I thought England might win, Aussie Terresa proudly declared said she hoped India would!

 

Kolkata's Oberoi Grand: a new Fort William

I wonder if it's possible to experience a more stark juxtaposition of human reality than as a guest of the Oberoi Grand in Calcutta?

In many ways I feel this luxury hotel, protected by wrought iron gates, metal detector screening and a military check point, represents a new Fort William - the original colonial outpost sacked during the series of events leading up to the Black Hole of Calcutta incident. Many  of the guests we share the hotel with - much of the time ourselves included - seem in the business of denying the outside world exists and relish protection from it.  Few can blame us.

 

After two days exploring the 'outside world' the sheer poverty, destitution and squalor of Calcutta has become starkly apparent, but so too has the great dignity of those battling it.  Just as the foul stench of excrement, urine and rotting refuse is battled - and for the most part overcome by - the intoxicating cocktail of spices, incense and perfumes; so the optimism inspired by the determination and resilience of Calcutta's poor overwhelms the emotional impact of the abject deprivation suffered by this unfortunate multitude.

 

It isn't just the ubiquitous urine and festering rubbish, it is the vulnerable victims that shock.  Such as the heart-wrenching view of mangey and often crippled wild dogs stalking the streets in search of scraps to eat.  There are so many limbless lepers and cripples not shy to parade their stumps for donations that we are already in danger of becoming de-sensitised to such a shocking image.  Whereas I will never be able to be de-sensitized by the mal nourished babes thrust in our faces by their desperate mothers amid pleas for alms.

 

In particular we were struck by the little girl - no older than 10 I don't think - who greeted us outside Mother Teresa's House with helpfulness and apparent altruism only to set about us on the way out with a very clear intention to extract payment for her earlier directions and effusive welcome.  When we went to offer a small donation she replied insistently that she did not want money, and frog marched us to the nearby shop to buy her the food she and her family needed.  Her highly adept "working" of tourists is to be admired and the hope her survival instinct inspires is infectious. It is perhaps ironic that outside the doors of Mother Teresa's home for 50 years, this little girl was able to extract from me a greater donation than the saint-to-be's own sisters!

 

Contrasted with the guests at Oberoi - myself included - who nonchalantly graze at all you eat breakfasts and limitless buffet lunches and then lie by the pool in the sun; the so-called uncivilized masses have a great deal to teach us all.  However, they also have a great deal to learn.  The streets are mayhem, bedlam even, and the traffic a reason-less throng of speeding taxis and trucks - bereft of lanes or traffic lights - blended with the crossing pedestrians in a bizarre dance of danger and risk.  So many times we ran the gauntlets of chaotic, devil-may-care traffic, but it wasn't until we took a taxi that the dodgem-like chaos appeared to take on some rhyme.  It seems relentless beeping for the horn is the only way to ensure survival - producing an incessant din that is frankly maddening.

 

Don't get me wrong, I don't think I have ever enjoyed any hospitality more than the Oberoi.  The hotel is filled with a musty ambience of a bygone era - the British Raj.  It can boast India's very first lifts, the original we ride to our room today.  Only a short walk to the nearby Eden Gardens Stadium, it's the perfect billet for the cricket press and players alike, here for the third test between England and India and so there's a great air of civilisation brought by the likes of Mike Atherton eating his breakfast and working by the pool. The attentiveness of the staff leaves you feeling like royalty and the peaceful pool, welcoming bar and sanctuary-giving lobby are lovable.  I must admit that on day two we still have not eaten outside the Oberoi's four walls.

 

But we have ventured out and walked the streets for many kilometers drinking in the disturbing sights, stomach quenching aromas and infuriating noise; as well as marvelling at the scale and gradieur of the remaining Raj-era architecture.  We have dived head long into the culture shock that comes from any visit to India and have loved every minute.  Having been to India too long ago to remember well, I am being reminded that what is so addictive about this insane country is what it teaches you about life and the living of it.  It can be so intense that if you are lucky enough to take refuge in somewhere like the Oberoi, you need to merely in order to process India's lessons.  As I do so during the coming two months', I hope to share them here, so watch this space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Obama Won #election2012.

Phew!  I don't think I could have coped with living in a world where an inspirational humanitarian,  focussed on lifting the fortunes of his fellow man, is swapped out by a management consultant focussed on running the world's most powerful nation like a multi-national.  

But could it have been any closer?  The US was split down the middle more-or-less 50-50 per cent, with only a few tens of thousands voters making the difference.  There is so much analysis now in play about how Romney lost - was it the 47 per cent video, #Sandy or the fact that the Democrats' 2008 coalition of the young, women, Hispanics and African Americans (far many more of whom voted this year than in 2008) shut Romney out.  But it increasingly seems to me now that it is not so much about Romney losing.  I think it is more about how the Democrats managed to prevail on the day - and it is in and of itself a very inspiring story.

You can tell from the moment that a tear rolls down Obama's cheek in this thank you speech to his ground troops the morning after his victory how important he knows their work was.  Obviously Bill Clinton played a very important part - but his role should be seen not as an invidual but as a member of a hard-working and highly effective team (as this terrific story explains).  

It is a fact that became clear to me very early on in the piece watching the results come in, and seemed so key even at the time that I tweeted the comments from CNN's John King: "we have all under-estimated the Democrats ground game" as it became apparent that the ground troops in Ohio and other tight marginals had a far more effective get-the-vote-out ground game than the Republicans.

The Obama team's use of social was as effective on this occasion as last election, with a tweeted picture of Barack and his wife Michelle on the moment of victory becoming the most re-tweeted tweet ever.  But more critically, the @barackobama team ran a campaign around #stayinline as they at some point realised that those still in line when the polls closed still had the right to vote and therefore needed to stay put.

Then this morning, I saw this tweet from my former boss, Marc Benioff, another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

It seems despite Romney's pitch to the nation that it took a businessman to manage the country out of its economic woes, not a big-government-arian; it seems his team couldn't manage itself out of a paper bag.  Their use of technology seems riddled with school-boy errors and ultimately proved not only ineffective but fully counter-productive.  Read this article detailing the unmitigated technology disaster that was the Republican ground game and you'll get a sense of that special brand of business management he would have brought to the American economy had he been elected.  

It is singularly hope-inspiring that while this was the most expensive election of all time, with at least a billion in campaign funds blown in just the last few weeks on attack ads, it was the ground game of a few thousand dedicated and highly-motivated troops just working hard - combined with the commitment of a few tens of thousands of supporters making that effort to get out and vote - that made the difference.  Despite what the cynics say - you can't buy the most important Democratically elected job in the world - you have to earn it.  Barack Obama deserves it not just because of the hope that he inspires in his people; but because of the attention to detail and hard work ethic he instills in his team.

UPDATE: Romney's Digital Director repsonds to criticisms here, saying - amusingly - that he and his team didn't "give up on data" (even though they had given up on 47 per cent of the population).

How not to talk to your customers on Twitter

I couldn't have invented a better example of how not to engage your customers socially if I tried, and certainly couldn't have invented a stranger scenario for it either.  As always with Social Media - you only really learn hands-on and all the theory in the world will only be useful if you put it into practice.  Being on the receiving end of a brand's customer service efforts taught me no end about how the theory works out in practice.

Needless to say, my PR consultancy business web site did not mention "the prophet", much less be abusive.
So - to the "strange scenario".  I logged online monday morning to finish off a blog post I'd been writing - funnily enough on social customer engagement - to find that #muslimrage Jihadi hackers had hacked my website and turned it into a protest site against makers of a video apparently insulting "the prophet".  Now I was told that setting up your own business would involve daily challneges, but this was not your everyday small business challenge.

Naturally I immediately hit my social networks for advice and was quickly told to contact my hosting provider for assistance.  I tried this in the old traditional way, and also in the new social way - both with VERY disapointing outcomes.

First - traditionally on the "award winning" customer service line I waited an hour and 20 minutes before giving up and hanging up.  The hold "music" is almost entirely populated with marketing messages about various aspects of their service.  It is my feeling that when a customer has got problems with one aspect of your service, they are not terribly predisposed to hearing about how fabulous other aspects of your business are.  But call centres isn't really my area of expertise.

So with that channel not only proving fruitless, but also intensely infuriating, I moved to social networks - an area I do have some expertise in.  First I went to Facebook and messaged them there where I was - still at the time of writing some 7 hours later - quite ignored.   

I turned also to Twitter, initially also ignored.  But soon I was engaged and told quite categorically that it wasn't their responsibilty but variously that of Wordpress or the webmaster.  

Tweets:
"I'm sorry we can't help with that, you should restore a backup. We may have one available for you but there's a fee associated."

"It's not something that needs to be patched, the effected sites have been exploited not the server"

"Only if it was through a server vulnerability, which it wasn't. Your site and the others effected are all Wordpress."

I was told they *could* restore my site for a back up but that would cost me.  I asked how much, $85 dollars I was told.  A further 5 tweets then proceded to explain just how much it wasn't anything to do with them.
So there are a number of problems here and I will list out what they should have done in a moment.  But more generally what is so bad about this is that the ration of useful tweets versus those endeavouring to protect their brand was 7:2.  Later - having checked the situation with my web designer, who incidentally responded like lightening to my Facebook post - I replied to my hosting provider that I'd like to take them up on their back up offer but would prefer not to sit on hold for another 80 minutes.  No response!  So you see - much effort gone into brand protection but a fairly <shrug> attitude to *actually* helping me.  At the time of writing, still no response - which looks very much like <sulk> in response to some of my critical tweets - a look no corporation can afford.

The lessons I took from this, or maxims I have seen reinforced, are:
1. Take it offline - ironically it is always best to be seen to be responsive socially, but to take problem conversations onto email as soon as possible.  (In this case all the context on the source of the problem should have been conveyed by email, along with helpful advice as to how to fix the problem and how to prevent it happening in the future.)
2. Identify yourself - at no point did I know who I was talking to - brand handles should identify themselves with ^initials.  This is a conversation between people.
3. Never say its not your fault, or aportion blame elsewhere (again, this can be discussed on email and in greater context than 140 characters allows - but to be seen to be finger pointing in social media is horrible!)
4. Don't be seen to be helping socially noisy customers short-cut the call centre holding pattern - however long it is!  Instead seek to help them help themselves by pointing them to specific online support resources pertinent to their problem - thereby providing relief without undermining the process.  Being responsive and opening up an alternative channel for communication is what is key here to alleviate the frustration.  (However, scale your call centre so no one - no one - sits on hold for more than one hour!)
5. Most importantly in this case - help first, self-defence never!  Again, what left the sourest taste in my mouth on this occasion was that the huge effort that went into absolving responsibility massively outweighed any the very minimal effort pointed at actually assisting me, their customer.  

Ultimately, once I'd established what had happened to my website, I needed my hosting provider to restore from the back up and was willing to pay the required $85 to do so.  
However, I did not want to risk 80 minutes on hold waiting to make that request and transaction.  The fact that I got 7 tweets absolving responsibility yet complete radio silence on all channels for several days to my efforts to get a resolution leaves the sourest footnote to this tale of epic #fail.

UPDATE: I would post this on my business blog, but as yet Crazy Domains have failed to respond to any request to get it restored from back as they offered 2 days ago.  They have not responded to 3 emails sent monday requesting this.  They have still not responded to a Tweet requesting this, or a Facebook request - and I'm not going to put myself through another 80 minutes+ holding for their Technical not-support, peppered as it is by obnoxious marketing messages.  I must say though they were very responsive to convert the sale though!  

So far no channel has been an effective way to communicate with them.   
Ultimately, I don't get the ins and outs of who/what is to blame for this but I expect more from my hosting provider in helping to fix the problem - least of all a response!  (But in terms of their claims that they aren't responsible at all, this post on Whirlpool is very interesting...)

Welcome to Enlightenment 2.0

The final session of the Philosophy of Social Media (#philsocial) course I've been attending and blogging about here sought to pull together the various themes and threads of the previous five weeks.  When distilled into just a couple of hours it became clear to me what a fundamental change the arrival of social media represents.  Not entirely in and of itself, but as at once an enabler and a by-product of a significant shift in human affairs. Welcome to the Second Enlightenment, or "Enlightenment 2.0"?

Several of the key themes of Dr Rayner's course weave together to form a cohesive argument - for me anyway - that what is in play right now is the twenty-first century equivalent of The Enlightenment.  The Eighteenth century intellectual and cultural movement in essence saw the birth of modern democracy and prompted modern scientific endeavour and the Industrial revolution amid the thinking of Issaac Newton, Voltaire, Locke, Rouseau and found its crescendo in American Independence and The French Revolution.

Dr Rayner reprised his comparison from the 5th lecture of Spinoza - a pillar of Enlightened thinking  - versus Hobbes.  Where Hobbes saw a social contract based on fear and danger, Spinoza saw it based on love, co-operation and common affinity.  It has been Spinoza's ideas that Rayner used to underscore the essential ethics of the social revolution throughout.

This is not a sudden movement, and as such we learnt about Rhizomatic theory - where new movements don't develop in full view like a tree but suddenly emerge after gradual underground gestation - much like a potato.  Thus new Social technologies are playing a powerful part in what appears to be the movement's present emergence into the mainstream.  

In the second lecture, there was the contention that the roots and genesis of this revolution can be found in the Counter-culture of the 1960s and embody many of those key themes - peace, love and harmony.  Then through the Hacker Culture of the 1980s, where co-operation and collaboration led to a commonly owned outcome - ultimately crystalised into the internet.  It is disruptive and irreverent - like the 1984 Apple MacIntosh Supe

In lecture 3 we looked at how concepts of "The Gift Culture" and Collaborative Consumption (one of "10 ideas that will change the world" according to TIME magazine.) define the new social era as much as the new trends in "prosumerism" - where the user is at once consumer and producer of shared, mutually-owned content.  
In lecture 4 we looked at how now the emergence of new standards in trustworthyness and influence such as Klout, Kred, Peerindex or most recently Trustcloud - mean that your online activity and conduct could roll into a score ultimately as important as your credit rating as companies now begin to award discounts and special access based on your Klout score.  Obviously, this means that in time, acts of pro-active and public kindness or collaboration might be wise investments in your future.
Finally in lecture 5 we also saw the power of social to convene anything from a brief flash mob or swarm to a fully-fledged revolution such #arabspring or #occupy - harking back to the disruptive counter-culture explored in lecture 2.   
As we drew towards a close, Dr Rayner summed up what he saw to be four key pillars of the Social Media phenomenon:
  1. You have to give to get back - pay it forward and gift culture environment
  2. Trust as a social currency - reputation as important as a credit rating
  3. co-creation as an intrinsic motivator - mutual benefit, creative win-wins
  4. Look for collaborative advantage - add value. 
It occurred to me that so many of these new characteristics of social intercourse signal a quite different social, cultural, political and commercial environment from the one we are used to.  The possible end of command-and-control management in both society and business to a world where consensus and mutual benefit as well as individual empowerment drive decision making.  

Commercially too we see fundamental change to where the dynamics of economic interest are as much about shared-ownership and gift culture and less about ownership and capitalist profit.  The way companies engage with customers and employees - collaboratively and peer-to-peer - will change radically in the coming years.  Some 50-to-a-hundred years' hence this could be as different a world from today as 1850 was from 1750.  That time period saw the invention of steam, democracy, the labour movement, the beginnings of universal suffrage and international co-operation - replacing war, despotism, industrial exploitation, agrarian serfdom and slavery.

What was a key factor in the spread of those new and radical ideas?  The Printing Press and the Steam Engine.  I think I have come to the conclusion that what is emerging - rhizomatically - is a new Age of similarly significant transformation in human affairs, where social media is today a major catalyst. As in the late eighteenth century.  Those that recognise this and join it might even become referred to as "enlightened".
It was an awesome course and I am greatly endebted to Dr Tim Rayner for his "enlightening" thoughts.  I strongly urge you to enroll for the next run of this, starting September 4.  Here is the final deck:

Social Media: Far from maddening a crowd?

This week's #philsocial class nicely brought together several of the more interesting themes that this course has presented into what has actually been the more directly useful content to my endeavour to better understand what Social Media means for business and organisations.

It was also very interesting personally - it was about revolutions and flash mobs and the power Social Media has to create and motivate a crowd.  Begining with #Kony2012 as a case study, Dr Tim Rayner (@timrayner01) looked at whether Social Media was a truly powerful tool for activism, or whether the ties created were too weak for anything more than mere "clictivism" - i.e. superficial and transient activity that ultimately led to nothing.  The famous Kony video campaign did create more than 100 million views on You Tube and Vimeo - but any "boots-on-the-ground" attempts were a spectacular failiure.  This could be partly because the campaign was visciously discredited in the media, or simply because Social Media doesn't create enough "glue" to galvanise people into meaningful activity?  This was the central question of the session.

We then took a tour of popular revolts and demonstrations through the last few years - a nostalgic parade of romantic movements that evoke great emotion and excitement. We dwelt on the London Riots (and let's not forget the #broombrigade), #arabspring and #Occupy in particular, but also looked at the "Sorry Everyone" and the subsequent werenotafraid.com campaigns following the 2004 US Election and London bombings respectively.  (It is interesting that both campaigns were achieved - in 2004 and 2005 - before Facebook or Twitter.)

The key proposition was that for those that took part the movements empowered them - gave them a sense of belonging and empowerment.

However, to what extent could Social Media take the credit for these movements?  The rest of the lecture explored two very interesting differences of opinion.  

Was the revolution tweeted?

The first is essential to guaging the very value of social networks.  Gladwell vs Shirky debate (nicely summed up and even scored a year later by Bill Wasik.)  Malcolm Gladwell - famous author of "Outliers" among other missives - argued, importantly in October 2010, that "the revolution will never be tweeted" in The New Yorker.  Malcolm made the argument that Social Networks build only "weak ties" that cannot be galvanised into powerful armies of activists - only months before powerful armies of activists were galvanised through social networks all across north Africa.  The revolution was indeed tweeted and the hashtag was #arabspring.

Clay Shirky argued that while more than mere social networks were needed for social organisations to become effective forces for change, was not reason for social methodologies to be dismissed out of hand:

"The fact that barely committed actors cannot click their way to a better world does not mean that committed actors cannot use social media effectively"

But it was BIll Wasik's summary of the two positions that provided the most value for me.  He argued two points of great pertinance to the organised use of Social Media.

  1. That while social networks could not create strong ties, they could maintain already strong ties across a distributed area
  2. That emotion was the glue that bound these networks.

Loose ties is an important aspect of the machinery of social networks I have learnt.  It can help build weak ties with total strangers in such a way as the strong ties are latent and implicit, and achieving those strong ties is greatly expedited as a result of the strong affinity and proximity social media can achieve.  Basically, when the moment is right, those weak ties can be converted into very strong ties very quickly, and then maintained over huge distances.  Wasik's other point about emotion being the glue is key also - if you can develop content or an experience that evokes great emotion - and that sense of belonging and/or empowerment - then you can create a very powerful network indeed.  The value of such networks could one day become an asset on the balance sheet of the wisest companies.  

Fear or Love?

The final part of the lecture looked at the other debate and in it reverted to the core of the series - the Philosophy - comparing the social organising principles of two great thinkers: Hobbes and Spinoza.  The former thought that fear was the fundamental civilising factor in the way community organised itself.  The latter saw that human affinity and - for want of a better word - love bonded far tighter communities.  Their very different times and experiences in a large part explain their radically different positions of course. But in today's world the passion and enthusiasm of the #occupy movement and the commitment and comeradery of the #arabspring masses demonstrate quite clearly that the collaborative and pay-it-forward gift economy of the social media counter-culture is in the ascendance.  The Hobbesian command-and-control, top-down society on the other hand patently will not work - neither politically nor commercially.