Sunday, March 3, 2013

Reflecting on working with Georgians


We’ve recently been tasked with revamping the academic program at the National Defense Academy here in Georgia.  I’ve been thinking about that and how we should approach it.  So I’m thinking aloud here, basing a lot of my thinking on my experiences in Iraq.  Sometimes it seems we have a “reverse Midas” situation – everything we touch turns to crap.  And the main reason is, we rely too much on what works for us.  I think it’s important that we don’t try to teach the Georgians how to do things the American way using American procedures.  I saw every contractor in Iraq do that; I know that I’ve been guilty of doing that with the Academy’s tactical officers and occasionally with my own “advisee,” and I know it would be a terrible idea to try it with the Academy folks because when our suggestion/recommendation doesn’t work we don’t ask why it failed; we simply say to the host nationals, “OK, then try it this other (American) way,” and to ourselves we say, “Thank God we’re here to fix this.”

You see, American contractors tend to look at problems in one of three ways:  as colonialists, as imperialists, or as missionaries.  This leads to either patronization, where we treat the locals as our servants, or to paternalism, where we treat them as children.  Obviously, neither of these is going to work with the current Georgian group.

My experiences in Iraq taught me several things:  1) if the locals don’t want your help, leave them alone.  We can’t force our ideas on them; all we can do is wait for them to decide to try our ideas.  2) To be successful, we have to take on the mindset of a servant instead of a leader.  That means asking the people we’re trying to help, “What do you feel is important and what do you want to do?  What does the final product look like to you?”  And that means that, sometimes, we have to direct them away from what they think they want.  They may want something that’s too hard, too costly, too dangerous, or just too wrong for them.  We have to direct them, through soft power, to what is best for them.  Once we do this, our role is to help the customers find the knowledge they need to do what they want to do.  Sometimes we’ll be the source of that information; sometimes we won’t.  If we’re not the source of that information, we have to do the research to provide it.

We forget that our job is to talk – specifically, to ask questions.  Even though it may sound counter intuitive because we’re supposed to be the advisor/expert, we need to listen more.  Our job is not to tell the Georgians what to do and how to do it.  Our job is to shut up and listen, and to offer options and ideas once they decide what they want to do.  Our guiding question should be:  “What can we do to help you get to where you want to be?”  Where they want to go is sometimes irrelevant; how they get there isn’t.  Having said that,…

Planning is incompatible to advising because we plan in a vacuum, because we plan using US methodologies and procedures, and because we plan assuming greater US resources and motivation.  I see our role as guiding the Georgians in their planning process, no matter how inefficient or slow that process may be.  I see our role as being planning resources for the Georgians, just as we would use higher sources in the US.  We also have to look at the Georgian planning process from their point of view.  The most important – if not the ONLY – things we can contribute to that process are confidentiality (so they’re not afraid to bounce ideas off us), passionate service (so they learn to trust us), and truth, specifically where they are, what they have, and what they need.  All of these, however, must be based on what they want, not on what we think they need.  This will be easier if we delete the word “I” from our vocabulary, substituting the word “we.”

We can’t change the Georgians; however, we can be a part of the Georgians changing themselves.  That means picking our battles.  And fighting small.  Let’s get some wins under our belt, let’s let the Georgians win a few battles, before we tackle the big issues. 

The late Carnegie Mellon Professor Randy Pausch wrote a book, and later produced a video, called The Last Lecture.  If you haven’t seen it, you should watch it; it’s on youtube.  In that book and lecture, he said a good lecture has a “head fake” built into it.  That’s where you think the lecture is about one topic designed for a specific audience, then you discover it’s meant to be a totally different topic for another audience.  Did you catch the head fake here?  I’m not talking about training Georgians; I’m talking about raising teenagers.

Thanks for reading.  And good luck.

The Georgian way of doing things


I’m planning my escape home in May.  The plan is for me to come home for Dan’s graduation and then Debbie will accompany me back to Georgia, spend a couple of weeks here, and then fly back alone.  So I did my due diligence online, scouring the web for cheap airfares.  I had to use a local travel agent because I couldn't get my return flight (PHL to TBS) to show up on Debbie's itinerary. In other words, I couldn't get us on the same flights online. It took 6-1/2 hours to get everything straight. It took only an hour or so to find an itinerary that worked -- short layovers and cheap fares. Then the bureaucracy that is Georgian rules kicked in.

Air France won't accept credit card payments online from Georgia (Georgia has an international reputation for running credit card fraud rings. It's been cleaned up a lot in the last 3 years or so, but the reputation is still there.) so I had to pay only cash. No problem. I go to the local TBC bank but they have a limit on how much cash I can get on my Amex. They recommend getting half today and half tomorrow except the travel agent has told me the itinerary might not be there tomorrow, so I decide to try my luck at the Bank of Georgia. Except the Bank of Georgia won't accept Amex so I have to use my debit/Visa card. Again, no problem. Except they need my passport for such a large transaction of cash. So off I go back to my flat to get my passport (not far but irritating especially in the cold). So now I have cash. (I'm making this seem easier than it was; it took over an hour and a half with waiting in lines at TBC and then BoG, running back to my flat, waiting in line again, getting the paperwork, & then waiting in line at the cashier window.)

So now I'm back at the travel agent (again, still walking in the cold). But before they can take my money and issue the tix, they need my passport info. No problem; I still had it with me from the trip to the bank. They make a copy and write down all the info they need. It’s going too well, I guess, so the travel agent throws me a curve.  Not one of the big, roundhouse, spinning curves you can see coming and time properly.  This curve is more of a Steve Carlton slider – looks like a fastball until you start your swing, and then, whoosh!  It’s gone.  Unhittable.  So here comes the slider:  the travel agent also needs Debbie's passport info. Why?, I ask. Because Ukraine Air doesn't accept e-tix so they're printing hard copies which can only be done after verifying passenger info and identity which is, of course, a passport. I think I have Debbie's info on my computer which is, of course, back in my flat. So back I go (farther than the bank walk so at least I'm getting my exercise for the day). Fire up my laptop; plug in my thumb drive, and voila! All of the info I need on Debbie's old, expired passport. Frustration level rising rapidly.

I call Debbie at her office. "Do you happen to carry your passport info on you? No, I didn't think so. Where is your passport? In the blue box? Got it. Thanks. I love you. Bye." So I call Dan (about 8.30am in PA). Dan runs up to the office but can't find the blue box. I tell him to call Debbie and then get on Facebook. He does this (very quickly, I might add) and gives me the info I need over FB. I then run back to the travel agent (OK, walk fast; it's been a long day). I give them Debbie's passport info (which is now in my updated thumb drive folder for the next time this comes up), doublecheck and verify my itinerary, and sign the form stating that I know the tix are non-refundable, non-transferable, and non-changeable. Time to give them my money and get the tix. Except their cashier is on dinner break. I wait 30 more minutes until he shows. I pay and go back to the travel agent's desk (who, by the way, can see the cashier's window and has watched me pay). She asks for the receipt from the cashier. Back I go, mumbling under my breath words that would greatly increase, but not necessarily enhance, the agent's knowledge of English. I get the receipt and hand it to the agent. She then, finally, prints my tix, gives me my itineraries, staples my receipts to the envelope, and hands me back the passport information. I leave the travel agent for home, 6-1/2 hours after I first walked in. And I'm pissed because I should have known better. Georgia runs on bureaucracy (holdover from the old Soviet days, I imagine). I should have realized this and left my flat with my passport, laptop and thumb drive, and cash that I had gathered over the previous 2-3 days.   But I didn't think ahead, so it cost me a lot of time and karmic energy. It's harder now to escape Georgia than it was when the Soviets ran this place.  Oh, well, at least I have the tix.

Just another Georgian day, giving me the opportunity to burn off some bad karma.  Thanks for reading.