Fighting with Technology: From India and Back

The other day, my router went down. I’d never realized that your router is kind of like the heart of your entire home office. No router – no phones – no Internet – no Netflix – no printer/fax/scanner.

Now, I’ve had problems before with my modem – but that is easily reset. You call the cable company – they magically reset it on their end – and you’re off and running. But when your router doesn’t work – it’s not such an easy fix – because the cable company doesn’t own the product. The router requires a call to a distant land. A place I might like to visit one day. A trip to India.

Now before you get the impression than I am technically sophisticated, there was a time when I had no idea which was the modem and which was the router. So I’ve labeled each with a yellow sticky. I’ve even labeled their respective plugs since it seems to be an important “fix” to plug and unplug these items from the outlet. Hard to do when the back of your desk looks like a bowl of spaghetti – wires shooting out everywhere. I’ve found this especially useful because whenever anything crashes, I seem to lose my cookies. And when I get upset – I get confused. I know this – because my system goes down a lot.

I live in one of those older neighborhoods, Cox tells me, where something or other needs to be upgraded. Odd – because telephone solicitors have no trouble finding me. Scam artists appear regularly in my yahoo mailbox. And Facebook seems to know more about me than my own mother ever did. I just nod my head and assume that Cox is selling me a bunch of hooey. Hey, I don’t understand any of it anyway. I just continue to follow their instructions as we work together over the phone to get my modem back up. Fifteen minutes – and the nightmare is over.

But the router – that is a different story.

To be honest, the people who work with me in India are sweet. There is an innate kindness that comes across. They never seem to lose their cool – even as I am stomping about – completely frustrated because I don’t always understand what they are saying to me. It isn’t the accent. It’s the techie talk. The International language of computers that eludes my simian brain. It seems that I have a freeze whenever I look at a screen and have to explain what I’m seeing. Especially odd that a writer is unable to find the right words. To me, it’s like describing a Picasso. Simply impossible to do.

These poor techies have the patience of a saint – trying to work over the phone to resolve issues they can’t see – and using me as the interpreter. And so when I get upset, I try to rethink the situation. To make a personal connection – “So, how long have you been doing this job? How do you manage with customers like me who are upset? Have you ever been to America?”

I’ve discovered that you can learn a lot by talking with kindness. It resets the entire experience. It still takes two-hours to get the router fixed – and yes – you’re still exasperated at the end – but in a way – you’ve made the time work for you. You’ve learned a little bit more about someone who you’d never actually meet otherwise.

One day, I plan to visit India. I’d like to meet the folks who work in these call centers. I’d like to know what their lives are like and how they find the inner strength to work these kind of jobs. Maybe I can learn a pointer or two for the next time my system goes down. Hmmm. Come to think of it – that could be any minute now.