Katrina, Vincent and I weren't in Kansas with Mom to wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY personally, so we improvised...


Love you Mama!

Career Advice

My friend Jill sent me this article. I read it and thought "wow, this person has never worked an entry-level job!" Granted, I have been told that I must be a real handful as an employee. Either way, see for yourself if any of this advice resonates--or at least have a good laugh.

7 Things Never to Say to Your Boss

Karen Burns, On Wednesday March 17, 2010, 11:19 am EDT

Everyone has a boss. Even if you "work for yourself," you're still an employee to your client.

A big part of maintaining the boss-employee relationship is to never allow a boss to think you dislike your work, are incapable of doing it, or--worse--consider it beneath you.

These sound like no-brainers, but many statements heard commonly around the workplace violate these basic rules. Looking for an example? Here are seven heard in workplaces all the time. They may seem ordinary, even harmless. But try reading these from your boss's point of view. You'll see right away why it's smart to never allow these seven sentences to pass your lips:

"That's not my job." You know what? A lot of bosses are simple souls who think your job is to do what's asked of you. So even if you're assigned a task that is, indeed, not your job, refrain from saying so. Instead, try to find out why your boss is assigning you this task--there may be a valid reason. If you believe that doing the task is a bad idea (as in, bad for the company) you can try explaining why and suggesting how it could be better done by someone else. This may work, depending on the boss. In any case, remember that doing what's asked of you, even tasks outside your job description, is good karma.

"It's not my problem." When people say something is not their problem it makes them look like they don't care. This does not endear them to anybody, especially the boss. If a problem is brewing and you have nothing constructive to say, it's better to say nothing at all. Even better is to pitch in and try to help. Because, ultimately, a problem in the workplace is everyone's problem. We're all in it together.

"It's not my fault." Yet another four words to be avoided. Human nature is weird. Claiming that something is not our fault often has the result of making people suspect it is. Besides, what's the real issue here? It's that something went wrong and needs to be fixed. That's what people should be thinking about--not who is to blame.

"I can only do one thing at a time." News flash: Complaining you are overworked will not make your boss feel sorry for you or go easier on you. Instead, a boss will think: (1) you resent your job, and/or (2) you aren't up to your job. Everybody, especially nowadays, feels pressured and overworked. If you're trying to be funny, please note that some sarcasm is funny and lightens the mood. Some just ticks people off.

"I am way overqualified for this job." Hey, maybe you are. But the fact is, this is the job you have. You agreed to take it on and, while you may now regret that decision, it's still your job. Complaining that it's beneath you only makes you look bad. Plus, coworkers doing similar jobs may resent and dislike you. And guess what? Bosses will not think, "Oh, this is a superior person whom I need to promote." Nope, they'll think, "What a jerk."

"This job is easy! Anyone could do it!" Maybe what you're trying to convey here is that you're so brilliant your work is easy. Unfortunately, it comes off sounding more like, "This work is stupid." Bosses don't like hearing that any work is stupid. Nor do they really like hearing that a job is easy peasy. It belittles the whole enterprise. If a task is simple, be glad and do it as quickly as you can. Even "stupid" work needs to get done.

"It can't be done." Saying something can't be done is like waving a red flag in a boss's eyes. Even if the thing being suggested truly is impossible, saying it is can make you look ineffectual or incapable. Better to play detective. Why is the boss asking you to do whatever it is? What's the problem that needs to be solved? What's the goal? Search for doable ways of solving that problem or reaching that goal. That's what bosses really want. Most of them do not expect the impossible.

Last words: When in doubt, remember that silence really is golden.

Karen Burns is the author of the illustrated career advice book The Amazing Adventures of Working Girl: Real-Life Career Advice You Can Actually Use, recently released by Running Press. She blogs at www.karenburnsworkinggirl.com.

Meet my co-workers!

Our trusty AUW Government Liaison, Mizan Bhai (bhai means "brother" and is used as a term of endearment and respect) is leaving us. We had a going away lunch for him and took this picture afterwards.

I thought you all would enjoy "meeting" the staff I work with at AUW. See if you can find me in the picture!

Resume builder: pizza delivery

For months now I have been asking Pizza Hut here in Chittagong to deliver pizzas to our two faculty residences. I explained that we work really hard and are often too tired to cook when we get home. And that we love pizza. And that Pizza Hut could make a lot of money delivering. After the third request, the new manager said "yes, we will do that."

So I sent out a happy email to faculty with news:
Just wanted to let you know of some nifty food delivery options that are available here in Chittagong.

Pizza Hut: delivery to Panchlaish Apartment and 20C
Pizza Hut can deliver. I spoke with the manager, Md. Tanjim Uddin and he said you can call up and order, say you're from AUW, and ask to have your order delivered (explain where you live--I've given general explanations, but they may need refreshing).

I sent out the email on March 3 at 9:23 AM. That evening, I received a few responses saying "we tried it--didn't work." Around 9 pm, I received multiple phone calls from Pizza Hut. I didn't answer because you never know around here if someone is calling you to "speak English and chat." Then Tanjim sent me a long text messaging saying:
"I am so sorry ma'am. The other manager was on duty and did not know about delivery. Please call me as soon as possible. This is important."

I had friends over, and was annoyed with Pizza Hut. So I didn't answer. I texted back and said "call me tomorrow about this." I didn't hear from Tanjim the next day.

This morning something reminded me that Tanjim never called me back. I was feeling feisty and in the mood to follow up. I texted him to ask if Pizza Hut would do delivery or not. He responded saying, "Yes, we will."

So I sent out an email tonight entitled "Try again...Pizza Hut Part II." A Kansan co-worker responded: "We did delivery to AUW campus tonight, at about 7:30. It may have been the first pizza delivery in Bangladesh."

I have to say--this may have made my month. Heck--my year! I now have something truly unique to put on my resume: "Succeeded in assisting with the implementation of pizza delivery in Bangladesh."

More Travel Woes

From an email I sent out to faculty and staff regarding problems with our domestic airline choices. Here's another peek into the joys of traveling in, around, and out of Bangladesh!

Dear friends ready to go somewhere,

Every GMG flight that AUW guests have had in the past week from Dhaka-Chittagong/Chittagong-Dhaka has been delayed one to two hours (or more) due to "technical reasons." Meaning, most likely, that a plane is out of commission. GMG will call up a day or two before the flight and say "we're sorry, but there will be a delay." Sometimes they just call the night before and say "the flight is cancelled." At which point general panic, frustration, and yelling ensues.

How to avoid this?

If you need to fly domestically, I suggest using United. ...Although they're not much better! I just called to try get United flight info on flights from Dhaka to Kolkata, and they told me they don't have an updated schedule and that I should call back in a week to get it. So much for travel planning!

Finally, don't trust either United or GMG's online schedules--they are old and/or incorrect, and just plain frustrating to read. Call the airlines directly!

Best of luck to ya'all,
Summer

Big news: New espresso machine in our building

Here's a little slice of news from AUW...

New Nespresso machine in 20G 6th floor kitchen

---

Ms. Summer Lewis	Wed, Mar 3, 2010 at 11:43 AM
To: auwallstaff
Dear AUW faculty and staff, There is a new Nespresso machine in the kitchen on the 6th floor. Let's make our little kitchen a cafe! You can purchase the espresso pods from me for 70 taka/pod. One pod will make one drink. There is also a milk frother that I will keep in my office, if you wish to borrow it and use to make a cappuccino. Come to me to get your pods and I'll instruct you on how to use the machine. PLEASE DON'T MESS WITH THE MACHINE UNLESS YOU HAVE BEEN SHOWN HOW TO USE IT! Let's make our little kitchen a cafe! Summer L. -- Concierge (Guest & Employee Relations) Asian University for Women (Chittagong, Bangladesh) http://sites.google.com/site/auwconciergedesk/ World Traveler http://kansaninbangladesh.blogspot.com/

Malaysian Steak

Kat and I decided to get Chinese massages yesterday at a place recommended by the owner of our hostel. Kat had already been there before (the day I was stuck in the bathroom) and was impressed with how hard the massage was. We Lewis girls are somewhat violent when it comes to massages. When I get a massage, I want someone to seek out and destroy those darned knots that I always have in my shoulders and upper back. I want the masseuse to show no fear--to get in there and work those little buggers out! The massages we've had in Bangladesh have been weak imitations of the pleasure and pain Zouk Spa delivered yesterday.

I opted for the 2 hour body massage for 80 ringit (~$30 USD). The massage began with the woman kneeling on my back, digging her knees into my body, and then pounding my butt. That brought me to attention and quelled any fears that this might be a wimpy massage.

My massage therapist was a tiny lady, probably in her thirty's. But she had a lot of power in her fingers, and also employed her arms, palms, and elbows in trying to work out my knots. I don't speak Malay, but I suspect she told the masseuse next to her that she'd never worked with such tough shoulders. Or maybe she was just commenting on how big my butt was. Who knows.

After two hours of being marinated in oil, pummeled, rubbed, and tenderized, I emerged feeling like a big steak. I felt worse than when I came in--but I knew it was all for the best.

Trust me, I feel better today, but I am really sore. My shoulders and upper back hurt and I think all the toxins released during the massage have lodged themselves in my throat. I believe it's clear I need to stay in KL for a few more massage sessions.

G.I. Woes

Today was beautiful. Kat and I have been alternating between the white sand beach and our air conditioned cabin room. Reading books and drinking beer in ice cold mugs. Loving Pulao Pangkor, a small island on the west coast of Malaysia, and preparing to return to KL tomorrow. Perhaps this scene seems all the more idyllic considering two days ago all I wanted to do was lie in bed and go unconscious.

Sunday was a day that will live in Malaysia vacation infamy: Summer's gastro-intestinal revolt. I ate something bad Saturday night. I think it was the carrot, tomato, and cucumber vegetable shake. (Please don't remind me of my sordid history with raw carrots in Southeast Asia. I know I should have learned by now. I'm a carrot lover, drawn to the beta-carotene and orange goodness. I just forget that my stomach requires careful preparation of raw carrots. And without that proper attention, this otherwise healthy veggie turns my stomach upside down).

The attack began as Kat and I scurried to join the line to the KL Petronas Tower Skybridge. We left our hostel at 7:30 am--an ungodly hour in the morning for any vacationer. I felt my stomach churn, and I thought, "That's weird. Must be because I haven't had any coffee or breakfast." Oh, silly me. If only it had been that simple.

Two days before, I had almost fainted while viewing a reconstructed Malaysian house. And I hadn't been feeling like myself since arriving in KL--meaning, I had no appetite. At first I worried about this, then I just figured it best not to ask too many questions and see this as a way to save money and shed a few pounds. I think these odd spells for me had more to do with heat and humidity than my stomach itself.

But standing in line at 7:50 in the morning with 200 other strangers on Sunday, waiting for a ticket to see the city from the highest twin tower in the world, I realized that my stomach was the one to blame. I passed my bag to Kat and ran for the bathroom (which took 10 minutes to find). I quickly learned that I had some major gastro-intestinal issues.

Returning to Kat, I wondered why on earth the Petronas Towers had to subject normal people to such silly schemes. If they just sold the tickets, we would gladly pay. Anything to avoid having to stand in an s-shaped line, guarding your spot, sneering at would-be line-cutters--all while grimacing like someone was punching you. Wait--that was just me when the stomach cramps started. And they didn't stop. Even after Kat finally got the tickets (with me sitting on the crowded steps near the ticket office, praying that I didn't pass out or make a mess).

We had enough time to visit the bathroom before heading up to the Skybridge. Riding a high-speed elevator 41 stories in 41 seconds definitely required a lot of concentration on my part. Once we finally made it to the Skybridge, I was too busy hugging my stomach and softly groaning to say "This is it?" I'm sure it was beautiful, this view of KL from up high. But I was more concerned with trying to find a bathroom. Luckily, we were only allowed to stay on the Skybridge for 10 minutes, and upon heading back down, the attendant (who'd heard of my predicament from the attendant upstairs), showed me the nearest bathroom.

And thus began the theme of my third day in KL. After eating lunch nearby (I fasted), we headed back to the hostel. I spent the day in our "hospital room"--it was too dangerous to venture anywhere without a toilet within 10 feet. I begged Kat to shoot me. Kat thought the whole ordeal was funny at one point, and her laughing made me laugh, which only made my stomach cramp even worse.

Thankfully, the problem cleared up within 24 hours, with the help of some immodium. And I do have Kat to thank for putting up with me and my unsavory smells. And we have this beautiful island to enjoy now. Sans raw carrots.

Quick notes on our vacation in KL

I copied this from an email I sent to Mom about our time in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia:

I am feeling ok

groggy, lazy, sweaty, and generally listless

not used to having this little energy

this humidity is killer

but I love wearing what I want, drinking coffee, eating good food, and walking

although I have lost my appetite the last few days

really strange for me!

right now we are in our hostel room

tiny, but comfy

good a/c

great shower with hot water

very clean

so we are happy

probably going to the beach Monday-Wed then back to KL for one night

our flight leaves late Fri. night

we can store our bags at the hostel during Fri. and pick them up before we head out to the airport

really nice city

modern

well-connected

amazing architecture

friendly people

so many different kinds of people

i wouldn't mind living here, if it wasn't for the humidity

love,

Summer

Traveling South East Asia is not always a breeze. But Malaysia is magnificent!

Kat and I are in Malaysia. Oh my goodness. This is great.

I'm not expressing myself as eloquently as I'd like to since I'm operating off three hours of sleep in the past 30 hours. I can hear you say "Wah wah wah--poor tired lady on vacation in paradise." Yes, I know that I'm whining while drinking wine, eating chocolate, and enjoying no honking whatsoever. But at least let me tell you about our trip here, ok?

We left Chittagong at 4:00 PM on Feb. 17. We were lucky to get a ride to the airport in a van. I was so thankful because two days prior I came down with a bad cold/respiratory nastiness. I didn't want to take a baby taxi (CNG) to the airport, as I was afraid I would hack to death after 45 minutes of breathing diesel fumes. I don't know if Kat would have gotten a flight refund if I hadn't made it, so it's good that I lived.

Our flight was delayed only 30 minutes--considering our Bangladesh travel experience, we would label this "leaving early." And, as luck would have it, this is the one time we didn't have to worry about arriving a little late to connect to our international flight.

For those of you who don't live and work in Bangladesh, allow me to explain. There's an annoying art to planning any sort of travel out of and into Bangladesh. All international flights (except for a flight from Chittagong to Kolkata and places in the Middle East) leave from Dhaka. (Chittagong used to have a flight to Thailand, which was cancelled months ago and never revived. I am on a mission to figure out how to resuscitate this. Begging and bribing have crossed my mind. The question is: Who do I bribe? And with what money?) We have domestic flights between Dhaka and Chittagong scheduled throughout the week. However, these flights don't always follow posted schedules and are arbitrarily cancelled at least a few times a week. Perhaps they didn't have enough passengers. Or the fog showed up. Or the crew didn't show up. Who knows.

All this means we can't just take the domestic flight that is supposed to arrive in Dhaka two hours before our international departure. Oh no--we have to do backwards planning for any sort of travel involving airplanes. Case in point: our international flight to Malaysia left Dhaka at 1:40 AM (on the 18th). There were two evening flights from Chittagong to Dhaka on GMG (one of two domestic carriers) on the 17th : a flight at 6:30 PM and a flight at 9:10 PM. We chose the 6:30 PM flight, because if it was cancelled, we could take the 9:10 PM flight.

This is how we plan all our trips. There has to be a spare flight we can take to still get our international flight after our first domestic flight gets cancelled. Does this sound a little uptight to you? I guess we've seen enough people learn the hard way, so we have to accept burning up a vacation day in transit. Or staying in Dhaka the night before an international flight. Or, in our case this trip, sitting in the Dhaka Airport from 7:00 PM until 1:40 AM while dealing with a lingering cold, bad food, and mosquitos. While eating terrible soup made from a dry mix in the one airport restaurant, the waiter ran over and yelled "Mosquito!" and sprayed under our table with the smelly Asi brand bug spray. Kat and I smiled and said thank you. I then turned my head and coughed for 5 minutes straight. Tasting toxic mosquito spray on your tongue will certainly kill your appetite.

Eventually we did get on our flight. And we got bumped to first class seats! They still had us eat the economy food, which was made by Biman Airways (Bangladeshi Airline). Tummy wasn't so happy, but legs were.

Writing all this down makes me smile. When I took this job, I thought I'd be jetting off to Thailand for three-day weekends. HA!

Upon arriving in Malaysia, we took a 28 minute (that's how they advertise it--and it's true!) monorail trip into the heart of Kuala Lumpur. Simple. No negotiating. No diesel fumes. No mosquitoes. We followed the detailed directions to our hostel, and walked in around 10 am. Unfortunately, our room wasn't ready. So Kat and I spent hours lounging on the patio, laying on the giant bench, whiling the hours away. In delirium. Neither of us had slept much, so I think people wondered if we were drunk.

We met Vince's Malaysian twin! The second this little guy jumped up on our bench, we both said "Vince!" Then we remembered we were in Malaysia.

Vince, as much as I miss you, I have to say. It may take some coaxing to get me to go back to Bangladesh.

Ciao for now.