Sally,
What a delightful post!
I never realized that this was happening.
Harry
_______________________________________________________
Sally wrote:
>Futurework indeed...
>
> >Date: Fri, 9 Mar 2001 21:13:46 -0800
> >From: "Michael Gurstein" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
> >Subject: Fw: Fwd: DELHI CALLING
> >To: "cpi-ua" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>, <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
> >Mime-Version: 1.0
> >Precedence: Bulk
> >Sender: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
> >Reply-To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
> >Status:
> >
> >> DELHI CALLING
> >>
> >> It may look like a UK number, but do you really know where the person on
> >the
> >> other end of the line is? Luke Harding visits a call centre in India where
> >the
> >> staff take crash courses in Britishness
> >>
> >> Friday March 9, 2001
> >> The Guardian
> >>
> >> It is 6.30pm and in a smart open plan office in south Delhi, the air is
> >> humming with a thousand telephone calls. Sitting in a row of
> >sound-muffling
> >> cubicles, a group of pleasant-looking young Indian graduates are talking
> >into
> >> their designer headsets. Some are dressed in jeans; others in bright
> >salwar
> >> kameez . Their customers, however, are rather a long way away, in a place
> >> where it is still lunchtime and probably cold.
> >>
> >> They are in Sidcup, perhaps, or verdant East Cheam - dotted across a grey
> >> island nation that from here seems remote and eccentric. The customers
> >have
> >> rung a number in the UK to check their mobile telephone bill, or to ask
> >about
> >> a new product or service. They are, for the most part, spectacularly
> >unaware
> >> that their inquiry has been routed thousands of miles away to an Indian
> >call
> >> centre, which serves rotis in its upstairs canteen and has a good view
> >from
> >> the roof terrace of a giant lotus temple.
> >>
> >> Not, of course, that there is much to give the game away. The subterfuge
> >is
> >> truly magnificent. Callers are greeted with a "good afternoon" when it is
> >> already evening in India and dark. Should the caller lob in a reference to
> >> David Beckham or the Queen Mother, Indian staff are able to give a
> >suitable
> >> off-the-cuff reply. Nothing is left to chance.
> >>
> >> This is Spectramind, one of India's newest and most sophisticated call
> >> centres: a place of soothing pastel colours, tasteful lighting and
> >expensive
> >> green carpets. The entire four-storey building exudes the smell of fresh
> >> paint - and of colossal corporate self-confidence. Here, recruits receive
> >a
> >> 20-hour crash course in British culture. They watch videos of soap operas,
> >> including The Bill, Emmerdale, Brookside, Coronation Street and
> >EastEnders, to
> >> accustom them to regional accents. They are told who Robbie Williams is.
> >> They learn about Yorkshire pudding. And they are taught about Britain's
> >> unfailingly
> >> miserable climate.
> >>
> >> Each computer screen shows Greenwich Mean Time and the temperature in the
> >UK,
> >> in case a staff member feels the urge to reveal that India is enjoying yet
> >> another day of blue skies and sunny weather. "We find showing new staff
> >videos
> >> of Yes, Prime Minister is particularly effective," says Raman Roy,
> >> Spectramind's sleek, pipe-smoking chief executive. "They get a two-hour
> >> seminar on the royal family. We download the British tabloids every
> >morning
> >> from the web to see what our customers are reading. We make our new staff
> >> watch Premier League football games on TV. And we also explain about the
> >> weather, because British people refer to the subject so frequently. It is
> >a
> >> science," he adds, proudly.
> >>
> >> And so it is, so much so that Britain's 3,500 call centres are justly
> >worried
> >> that their jobs will soon disappear entirely - as more and more firms
> >relocate
> >> or "outsource" key elements of their businesses to India. This
> >apprehension
> >> was confirmed by a report published last month. It said that the Indian
> >call
> >> centres were superior to their British counterparts in every way. They
> >were
> >> cheaper - costing only 35-40% as much. They had better technological
> >> facilities. They had smarter staff.
> >>
> >> American Express and British Airways started the trend eight years ago,
> >when
> >> they transferred their "captive" customer service empires to Delhi, and
> >then
> >> Bombay. BA was attracted by India's seemingly unlimited pool of
> >> English-speaking graduates, 25% of whom fail to find jobs. Indian
> >graduates
> >> required starting salaries of only #2,500, as opposed to #12,500. They
> >were IT
> >> literate, and highly motivated. The savings were enormous.
> >>
> >> Gradually, other British companies cottoned on. Last year, Harrods
> >> controversially shifted its store-card operation from Leeds to Delhi. It
> >has
> >> been joined by Debenhams, Top Shop, Dorothy Perkins, Burton and,
> >fittingly,
> >> Monsoon. The insurers RSA and Axa Sun Life have recently moved elements of
> >> administration to Bangalore, India's IT capital.
> >>
> >> Not surprisingly, British unions are starting to complain loudly. They
> >object,
> >> in particular, to the fact that some Indian call centres encourage their
> >staff
> >> to change their names to sound more, well, English. Thus Siddhartha might
> >> become Sid, or Gitanjali could be Hazel, not Gita. At Spectramind staff
> >keep
> >> their original names, Roy explains: "It is not a disadvantage to be called
> >> Ramakrishna these days." (It was obviously merely a happy coincidence that
> >his
> >> sari-clad secretary was called Sarah.)
> >>
> >> It is no secret within the industry that "agents" are taught to minimise
> >their
> >> Indian accents, to speak more slowly, and to watch the BBC news. "We don't
> >try
> >> and teach our staff to speak with British accents. But after talking to
> >> British people they do start to sound like them," manager Mr Viswanathan
> >> admits. Even after intense training, though, some callers from Britain are
> >> impossible to under stand, it seems. "We borrow tapes from the British
> >Council
> >> in Delhi. But even after listening to them there are about 20% of callers
> >who
> >> don't make any sense at all," says Padmini Misra, vice-president
> >(training).
> >>
> >> That India has so many charming and intelligent English speakers is
> >clearly
> >> one of the nicer legacies of colonialism - so we can hardly complain 50
> >years
> >> on that they are stealing our jobs. Most of Spectramind's new recruits
> >have
> >> been educated at English-orientated schools. They spend Friday nights
> >watching
> >> Goodness Gracious Me and repeats of Blackadder on Star TV, India's most
> >> contemporary channel. But watching Rowan Atkinson prance about in an
> >> Elizabethan ruff is no substitute for actually having visited the UK,
> >which
> >> most of them have not done. This is where Misra's crash course comes in.
> >"We
> >> have training modules on geography, history and the monarchy, and on
> >Britain's
> >> social structure," she says. "We teach them about British food - Yorkshire
> >> puddings for one - which would not be familiar to a young Indian fellow
> >here.
> >> We give them quizzes on Britain and allow them to surf the net. And we
> >tell
> >> them about what high-street shops there are."
> >>
> >> Misra also sheds light on why the old sit-com Yes, Prime Minister goes
> >down so
> >> well among the staff - it's because the rococo bureaucracy of Whitehall
> >> corresponds so closely with India's own. Such are the sensitivities
> >involved,
> >> however, that most Indian call firms refuse to discuss their methods. They
> >> also strive to conceal who their clients are - or what, exactly, they do
> >for
> >> them. "We have to decline your request," the US finance group GE Capital
> >> sniffs, when I ask to have a look round its huge call centre in Gurgaon,
> >on
> >> the road between Delhi and the historic town of Jaipur. "Why tell our
> >> competitors how we run and manage our business?" GE handles the store-card
> >> accounts of Harrods and other major British chains, such as Russell and
> >> Bromley. It has some 2.5m British customers but does not believe in the
> >> virtues of transparency.
> >>
> >> "Clients don't always like the customer to know that any service from them
> >to
> >> the customer has been outsourced," Matthew Vallance concedes. His firm,
> >> CustomerAsset, recently opened two new call centres in Bangalore and he
> >> predicts that more and more British firms will shift to the subcontinent.
> >But
> >> it is not just the UK that is outsourcing to India: a huge amount of what
> >is
> >> known as "remote processing" is now being done in India for the US market.
> >> While Tennessee slumbers, members of Spectramind's American team are busy.
> >> They are working on invoices that have been scanned and emailed to them
> >from
> >> halfway across the world, or preparing to chase up students who have
> >defaulted
> >> on debts of #10-#50.
> >>
> >> The US-orientated staff are trained in the nuances of baseball in the same
> >way
> >> that the British team watch The Bill in a shiny second-floor classroom
> >> decorated with photos of Tower Bridge and Prince Charles. Blue "Tennessee
> >> Titans" pennants fly above the American team's desks. "Geography is
> >history.
> >> Distance is irrelevant. Where you are physically located is unimportant. I
> >can
> >> log on anywhere in the world," Roy declares.
> >>
> >> His firm is not deceiving the customer, merely providing a "global
> >servicing
> >> resource", he explains. After a successful career at American Express and
> >GE
> >> Capital, he founded Spectramind 11 months ago. The firm is now hiring 150
> >new
> >> graduates a month and receives 8,000 applications from a single
> >advertisement
> >> in the Hindustan Times. It is already hunting for a second overflow
> >office, as
> >> the number of employees shoots up from 400 to 2,000.
> >>
> >> With the industry doubling in size every couple of months, India is well
> >on
> >> the way to becoming the call centre capital of the world - with a
> >turnover,
> >> analysts predict, of $3.7bn by 2008. In a luxuriantly illuminated waiting
> >room
> >> decorated with a photo of a giant eagle ("Leaders are like Eagles. You
> >only
> >> find one of them at a time") a group of applicants is comparing notes
> >after a
> >> fourth gruelling interview.
> >>
> >> "I've already written three exams. I'm an honours engineering graduate,"
> >> whispers one young male applicant who is wearing a tie. He and his fellow
> >> candidates are in their early 20s. They are bright, middle class and
> >tidily
> >> presented. They are, in short, the kind of people who wouldn't be seen
> >dead in
> >> a UK call centre - unless the bailiffs were knocking at the door or the
> >> student loan had to be paid off urgently.
> >>
> >> On the floor below, the British desk, which starts work at 6.30pm (Indian
> >> standard time), is still greeting callers with a "good afternoon". The
> >shift
> >> finishes at 2.30am, just as Britain is washing up or settling down on the
> >sofa
> >> to watch the telly. The Indian graduates are then ferried home in luxury
> >> Toyota Qualises, through still-warm streets full of somnolent cows,
> >yapping
> >> pye-dogs and snoring rickshaw drivers. We are a world away from Sidcup.
> >The
> >> darkness is only broken by the flood-lit lotus temple, serene and milky
> >white
> >> in the distance.
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >> _______________________________________________
> >> CrashList website: http://website.lineone.net/~resource_base
> >>
> >>
> >
