With 10 days on the ground in southern Africa, we began our trip with a safari not in Chobe or Kruger, but in Zambia's South Luangwa. It's not the first place most people think of when they picture an African safari. Yet, it's home to a rich set of flora and fauna, and also the origin of the walking safari.

After a nine-hour bus ride from Lusaka to Chipata and another two hours from Chipata to Mfue, we arrived at Jackalberry Safaris on Sunday mid-morning, just barely escaping the oncoming heat of the afternoon. Our accommodations for the next three nights consisted of a tent, a communal bathroom area, and a poolside bar nestled alongside the winter Mfue River.

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I was reminded the other day that I can't leave Zambia without a final post. To follow up on my last entry, "Arbitrary Lessons I Learned on the Road," I'll keep this one focused on what I've learned from working and living in Zambia over the past couple months. Parts of this are in jest, others I'm quite serious about - which is which you can decide.

I've thoroughly enjoyed my time in Zambia and don't regret a moment of it. I've learned a lot. I've been smacked with humbleness. I've gain experiences that are borderline sketchy. And, most importantly, I've made friends who are just as sketchy and equally awesome. On with it...

Nothing is fast, just "less slow."

Order a coffee here at a "fast food" establishment and be ready to wait for at least 20-30 minutes. Go to the print shop and be prepared to hover around for 1-2 hours. So, throw out your schedule, sit back, and relax, because things aren't going to move any faster just because you're grumbling and mumbling.

Life doesn't give everyone lemons.

There's a huge wealth and income disparity between the developed nations and many African nations. But, even within Zambia, the disparity is just as discouraging. A traveler just passing by may notice the modern shopping malls built for the recent rise of the middle class, but that portion of the population is small. The rest are cramped inside self-confined areas called "compounds" - a euphemism for overcrowded shanty towns where living rooms are smaller than my former NYC apartment bathroom and kitchens consist of a hot plate next to the television. The borders of the compounds are generally lined by street shops selling furniture, clothing, and various other things, so for a foreigner driving by, everything seems peachy, but we all know what lurks inside. 

Sometimes, firing someone is the best thing you can do for that person.

It feels bad when you have to let someone go, but if by doing so you're helping them develop personally and professionally, then by all means do it, but do it with empathy and in a way that maintains their dignity. The sooner the better - for you, the company, and the individual.

Being Chinese is like being a celebrity - there's a love and hate relationship.

Like some other African countries, Zambia has a sizable Chinese population. However, Zambia is the first country where multiple people have asked if they could take pictures with me. Say cheeeeeeeese, or better yet, nshiiiiima.

There's a fine line between being aggressive and being an overused expletive.

Zambia is pretty laid-back (in all good sense of the word). Unlike other countries where sellers will nag you until your blood boils, most sellers here will mind their business and let you pass on by without much ado. The only exception is the inter-city bus terminal, where the call boys are as aggressive as aggressive gets. We've tried to instill a little bit of this within our staff, and to reinforce that there's a difference between being aggressive and being rude - the line is fine, but we are by no means near it.

Drawing from the likes of Journey's made up "South Detroit" in Don't Stop Believin' and Mampi's Walilowelela, as well as my own experience with consulting-speak, sometimes nonsense just makes sense. 

Does this make sense?

I like nshima.

See you later, Zambia.

Overdue haircut. Overdue shower. Overdue shave. Overdue laundered clothes. Backpackers don't always leave the best impression. Yet, they almost always leave people with a little bit of envy - traveling around the world, meeting new people, learning new cultures, trying new foods, living new experiences. Yes, traveling is about all of these things. But, for me, traveling has also taught me - or reminded me - of lessons that are just as applicable in my daily life as they are when I am on the road. Here are just a few.

Attitude matters.

You can't expect a happy ending or a pleasant journey if you start out behaving like a grumpy old (wo)man. Treat everything as an end in itself. Find love in whatever you are doing. If, instead, you find yourself grumbling about it and notice that your friends don't want to talk to you anymore, then it's time to switch to something new. When I started my Latin America trip, I was sitting on a bench in NYC waiting for the bus to JFK Airport. A subway train passed by overhead, shaking loose idle water and landing it on top of me and my backpack. As I was taking off my backpack to observe the damage, I cut my hand on the edge of one of the backpack straps. Sure it was not the best way to begin a trip, but at least my backpack was now properly christened and ready for two months on the road.

Take the plunge and don't doubt yourself.

Roads fork and so does life. When you have a decision to make, think through your options, pick one, and don't second guess yourself. If you're right, that's great. If you're wrong, find the lesson learned, and move on. Life happens now. I was on a bus heading back to San Salvador and missed my stop. I could have gotten off at the next stop, but decided to take it to the end of the line - what other way was there to get a tour of downtown? Turned out it wasn't one of my best ideas, but at least I got to see a side of the city that I would not have otherwise.

Best stories come from the worst experiences.

It's human nature to like hearing about other people's crappy experiences. Stories of great experiences generate jealousy. You know it. Don't deny it. I thoroughly enjoyed my trek to La Ciudad Perdida, but from my experience, people don't want to hear about the hundreds of stone structures discovered at The Lost City, a stone masonry city that's old enough to be Machu Picchu's great-great-great grandfather. Instead, what elicits the most emotions are the descriptions of the hot and humid Colombian jungle air that left me soaking in my own sweat, and the beds that had soaked in hundreds of other backpackers' own sweat. I can sense your disgust already. 

Nothing is ever final.

If I accepted the first price given to me each time I wanted a taxi or some other good/service, I'll be a backpacker living without the backpack. Negotiate for a higher salary. Bargain for a better deal. Compromise on who does laundry and who takes out the trash.

A smile goes a long way.

It puts people's guards down, even if inside you're secretly thinking about how you're going to manage to pay for the $30 meal you just ate with only $20 in your pocket. Besides, it also does a whole host of positive things for your body - reducing stress levels, lowering blood pressure, making you look younger and sexier without the other person first being inebriated. On my way back to the States from Peru, I missed my connection in El Salvador and had to spend the night there. The airline compensated each passenger with a $200 voucher, but a smile and an hola at the ticket counter got me an extra Benjamin.

Habit creates complacency, but also frees you to do other things.

I get bored easily. That's why you will never find me (when I'm traveling for leisure) in the same city for more than 3-4 days. Blink and I'll be on a bus heading somewhere. But, that doesn't mean I don't like a little bit of routine in my life, just not so much that it puts me in a rut too deep to crawl out. The more "non-essential" things you routinize, the more intellectual horsepower you'll have left for other things. Although I'm not technically in Zambia for leisure, my morning gym routine frees up a period of time when I don't have to worry about anything except to enjoy the peacefulness of the morning sunrise. Then the chaos ensues.

Being uncomfortable is okay, and exhilarating.

Singapore was the first international place I traveled to solo. I still get a little nervous every time I land in a foreign country, especially in the middle of the night. But, at the same time, it reminds me that there is still so much to explore and to learn. Being uncomfortable is a sign that you are living, growing, learning. The moment you feel too comfortable is really the moment you should be sweating your palms about.

You can't control everything.

A crazy bus driver, an out-of-control client, a GPS that takes you to a nuclear power plant when all you want to do is go to the mall. There are things in life that you can control, and things that you cannot. For the former, take charge. For the latter, there's MasterCard. No seriously, just be smart enough to know that it's the latter and stop stressing yourself over it. This includes natural disasters, other persons (e.g., your partner or the guy in the car in front of you who won't turn off his turn signal while driving on a single lane road). 

You don't know everything.

So don't assume anything. This applies to what you think you know about other religions, societies, or cultures just as much as it applies to the people in or out of your life. If you don't know something, go find out, even if it means putting yourself out on a limb. 

Crap will hit the fan. Learn your lesson. Laugh it off. Act now or move on.

Nothing ever happens as you think it will happen inside your self-confined imagination. Things will break down, people will behave unexpectedly, and that is okay, because that is life, not the end of it. Be grateful for the experience.

Material things get in the way of life.

Live uncluttered. If you have too much stuff, follow this chart. If you're considering making a purchase, refer back to the same chart and imagine what category that item will fall in within 6 months' time. A hike on a summer's day requires nothing but a good pair of shoes, a water bottle, and a shopping bag to carry out your garbage. As Trashy the Bear says, "Only you can prevent forest litter."

Cross-posted: Huffington Post | LinkedIn

If you asked me two months ago whether I learned anything during my first year at Harvard Business School, my response would have been a resounding "Yes!" But, if you followed up by asking me for an example of how I applied the lessons I learned into practice, my response would have been a hesitant "Umm..."

The FIELD (Field Immersion Experiences for Leadership Development) curriculum provided me an incredible opportunity to learn leadership skills not only in the classroom, but also through practical experience in Ghana and in Boston. However, at the end of the day, FIELD remains an exercise constrained within an academic environment. The question I asked myself was "How do I actually put what I learned to the test?"

As I was starting my summer internship in Zambia over seven weeks ago, I pondered “What am I bringing to the table that I would not have been able to had I not gone to HBS?” At that moment, the answer was not quite clear. However, as the days passed and the summer (technically, it’s winter here) progressed, it became clear that what HBS equipped me with was not the hundreds of cases I read and analyzed, as I will be the first to admit I will be the last to recall any of the case facts. Rather, it was the persistent pushing and prodding by my professors, section-mates, and discussion group members that I remember the most.

As I dove deeper into the managerial and operational issues of working in Zambia, I found myself asking whether the problems were really as simple and clear as they appeared at first glance. The many times I was pushed to justify my stance -- from the morality and ethicality of pharmaceutical patents in the developing world to the negotiation tactics I would use with Steve Jobs -- became constant reminders for me to go deeper than just the first layer of the metaphorical onion.

What I learned at HBS and what I have applied in Zambia was more than just root cause analysis or the typical "Five Whys" questioning. It requires combining a dose of empathy with an equal dose of traditional problem solving. Just as I had to put myself in the case protagonist's shoes, trying to understand the motivations, pressures, and stakeholders influencing his/her decision making, I found myself standing in the shoes of our sales captains, sellers, and buyers. I forced myself to distinguish what the problems appeared to be and what they really are, as well as what the solutions should be and what they really could be given the real and practical constraints we face. This "method" of thinking has become my de facto mindset whenever I'm in the field with our sales team or in a meeting room with a multinational telecom.

There isn't a simple list of "Things I've Learned at HBS and How You Can Apply Them Too," because the skills I learned, and am constantly honing, are those that can only be learnt through the experience of having been forced repeatedly to defend my logic despite knowing it was not perfect.

To end this post on a lighter note, my HBS experience also never lets me forget that having fun is just as important of a success metric as any other. Here are a couple snapshots to explain why I may never leave Zambia (more here, here, here, here, and here).

Cross-Posted on: HBS Recruiting Blog | Huffington Post | LinkedIn

In the blink of an eye a month has already passed by since I first step foot in Zambia. Time certainly waits for no one. It's been an adventure since day one, and I have no doubt the next month and a half will be equally exciting.

Last Thursday our team camped out at Zamchick, a Zambian based chicken fast food chain. With music blasting from a borrowed speaker, we set out to attract sellers to us. Up until then, our sales captains had primarily gone from seller to seller to give their pitches; but we wanted to do something on a larger scale. We even had our own (unsolicited) dancer in front of the store, swaying his hips every which way. Slowly, the sellers trickled into the restaurant. By the end of our seven-hour camp out, the team managed to acquire a number of sellers equal to how many we had acquired in the first two weeks of June!

Less than 12 hours later, I was on a flight to Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania, with a connecting flight to Zanzibar. I've never gone through a visa process as chaotic as that at the Dar airport. Rather than relive the experience in words, I'll just say if you go, be prepared to wait around for forty minutes. My flight wasn't scheduled to land early enough for me to catch the ferry to Zanzibar, so I booked a connecting flight over the 23 miles of ocean that separate Zanzibar from the eastern coast of Tanzania (little did I know, we would end up landing 40 minutes early).

Once touched down in Zanzibar, I found my pre-arranged taxi driver (as the public daladalas had stopped running by that time). It was an adrenaline-filled hour ride to the east coast of Zanzibar. The driver put the pedal to the metal as we swerved around the dark roads. With no streetlights, the roads were only visible as far as the headlights shone. Wondering how fast we were going, I glanced over at the speedometer and saw the needle frozen at zero.

With a dramatic history of spices and slaves, Zanzibar has become a destination for anyone looking for white sand beaches lapped by a turquoise ocean. My trip to Zanzibar was primarily for a little R&R at one of Pweza's bungalows, with lunch at the The Rock, a viewing at the Zanzibar International Film Festival (ZIFF), and an excursion to one of the government-owned spice plantations on the outskirts of Stone Town.

The Rock, formerly a fisherman post, sits in the middle of the Indian Ocean about 50 meters from the Michanvi Pingwe beach. With a simple and unassuming interior, The Rock is a nice place to stop by for an afternoon coffee. But that's as much as I would recommend. The Rock's three menus are encased in what felt like five pound picture frames - perhaps this was an attempt to exude sophistication, but it came out more as obnoxious. The food was overpriced, came in small portions, and probably didn't taste any better than what I could have concocted myself. Hence, just go for the coffee - just remember to go during high tide. The high tide does what freshly precipitated snow does for the northeast US, it makes it look a lot prettier than it would otherwise appear.

After a two-hour ride in the daladala on Sunday morning, I ended up in the winding alleyways of Stone Town, one of UNESCO's World Heritage Sites. There, I managed to catch a documentary on the late Burundi prime minister, Prince Louis Rwagasore, at the ZIFF. With not much time to spare before my ferry back to Dar, I found a guide to take me to one of the spice plantations a few minutes' drive from the edges of Stone Town. As the guide took me through the spice farm, he plucked at the many plants, giving me a smell and taste of cloves, ginger, nutmeg, chilies, cinnamon, pepper, cumin, and a mixture of other spices. Afterwards, the only thing that stood between me and the ferry was a quick cup of coffee from Msumbi Coffee, a quaint little cafe with a knack for brewing single-origin Arabica coffee.

Then, it was back to hustling in Lusaka to meet with the national postal service, move to a new office, and get a long overdue haircut. We are also partnering with a local fashion blog tomorrow on organizing a Swap Shop, an event where folks can bring 5-10 items and, umm..., swap them for those of others.

What's in store for next week? Who knows - all I know is that the country manager is on vacation for two weeks, leaving me "in charge." That means Kaymu Zambia may not exist in two weeks' time!

Cross-posted: LinkedIn

See more pictures here: Facebook, Google +, 500px

Until next time!

My second full week in Zambia started out with a bang, or lack thereof. Like most things in Zambia, electricity is, on the most part, prepaid. You simply drop by Zesco, the state-owned power company, tell them how many kwacha of electricity you want, and they print you out a code to enter into your meter. What I didn't know was that my electricity would run out despite my meter displaying 11 remaining units on Monday morning. With the chill of old man winter settling in, I was glad that the meter at least had the courtesy of running out just as I got out of the (hot) shower and not beforehand.

The last two weeks have brought to light how - relatively - expensive it is to live in Lusaka. Everything from electricity to gas to food to printing soak up much more cash than I would had imagined. Of the 100 kwacha that I paid for electricity, about 34% of it went towards taxes. In July, electricity costs are being hiked up about 24% for residential homes and 14% for commercial buildings! The cost of printing - at roughly $1 per side - also makes it prohibitively expensive for most businesses to do any type of print marketing.

Trust (more so arm's length trust) is another interesting facet of life here. My encounters with people here have been largely positive, but it's impossible to not notice that the majority of homes are surrounded by 10-foot walls, on top of which are decorated by your choice of barbed wires, electric wires, and / or shards of broken glass. Even parking your car at the upscale malls comes with the risk of returning to discover that you're missing one or both of your mirrors. However, wrong doers commit their crimes at a major risk - and I don't mean prosecution by the official authorities. Vigilante (or mob) justice is not unheard of, with robbers, drivers who have accidentally hit pedestrians, and even adulterers being attacked prior to the arrival of the official authorities.

On the work front, the second week has been as equally as exciting as the first. I've spent the past week working with our delivery partner to fine-tune our order management processes, trying to mend our relationship with a sales partner, onboarding a new employee, and managing the team while the country manager is on vacation. We also managed to grab - at a huge discount - advertising space at two venues that'll be screening the World Cup for the next month! Sweet success.

On the fun side was the monthly Quiz night at an expat joint called "Chit Chat," where the nerdy MBA part of me was able to add value to a question about Jeff Bezos and another one about Dr. Sheldon Cooper. At the start of each month there's also a "Startup Hour" that brings together entrepreneurs from the area to network (I was hoping not to hear that word this summer!). Despite my general wariness of networking events, it was a rather interesting mix of people and, well, there was free food.

Oh, and there was also the gecko who took the liberty of sunbathing on his back in my living room. I promised to leave him in peace if he stayed out of my bedroom.

As I sit at a cafe in Lusaka, Zambia, I am writing this post with an Americano in the making and the sun showering me in warmth. But, it didn't start that way. I arrived in Lusaka not two weeks ago, but unfortunately, my checked luggage didn't. I know, I know, who checks their luggage? Anyway, besides that snafu, things have been going swell in Zambia.

A brief background on what I'm doing here: I'm working for an eBay-like startup that launched back in the March-April time frame. We're a small outfit, with one incredible country manager, a couple eager sales captains, and yours truly. Previous to this I was in consulting. The differences are endless, while the similarities are nearly non-existent.

Since day one I've been on a Zambian high. There is no typical day - every morning, afternoon, and evening is as different as it gets. The only commonality across the days is the morning sunrise I get the opportunity to witness as I walk a kilometer to the gym in near pitch black darkness. Oh yeah.

Since starting up my internship, I've gone into the field (the Kamwala and Comesa markets for those familiar with the area) with the sales team to better understand how the team functions, as well as how consumers are responding to our service. These field adventures surfaced a lot of interesting insights. I won't go into all of them, but will just emphasize one.

Similar to Mercado Libre in Latin America, we work in a region that lacks the physical delivery infrastructure that we take for granted elsewhere. But unlike Mercado Libre, Carousell in Asia, and eBay in North America, we are also trying to figure out how best to educate our sellers and buyers on not only our service, but also e-commerce in general. With internet penetration at roughly ~12% in Zambia, distrust of it is prevalent and misunderstandings of how it works are common. To add to that, computer-based connectivity is limited. These are just some of the many challenges - including order management, delivery logistics, buyer and seller acquisition, payment partnerships, etc. - that I'm working on over the next couple of months.

Anyway, enough with the work stuff. In general, life in Zambia has been wonderful. The people are incredibly friendly - much more so than in any other country I've visited. The transportation options are taxis or "buses," the equivalent of Latin America's "chicken buses." Except, instead of jamming passengers on a school bus, we're pumped inside caravans. Food options are a bit more limited than I'm used to, but I've finally settled into my place, so maybe some cooking is in order. Entertainment is certainly no San Francisco, Boston, or Philly, but sometimes you have to make your own fun. My first week in Lusaka included a night at an Italian joint by the name of Portico, fashion show at Sky Bar, wine and cheese at an expat's abode, overindulgence of oversized avocados, a farewell party to the old pub location of Bongwe Barn, an international food fair sponsored by the Diplomatic Spouses Association, and the Zambia (Golf) Open.

Until next time!

I’ve spent Friday, Saturday, and Sunday reflecting on my first year at HBS. In that process, I wrote an email to a few close friends updating them on my time here. As I started to write this post, I realized that the content of that email fit exactly what I wanted to communicate. So, here it is:

I started HBS a...continue reading