Breaking the ice at XacBank
4 January 2009
Why is it that when you’re just starting a job, you always introduce yourself to the CEO with spinach in your teeth, or rip your pants pocket, or spill toner on your shirt?
My finest hour was when I was starting on the copy desk at a newspaper, trying to make a good impression as a head-down, able worker, and the copy chief gave me a big story. I had my take-out dinner on my desk. As I stared intently at the screen, trying to be the model of a journalist who’s so totally engrossed in the task at hand he can’t even be bothered to look at his food, I gave my Orangina a vigorous shake, as instructed on the bottle. Forgetting about the cap. Which was off.
The guy sitting next to me said he couldn’t believe his eyes: me just shaking this bottle, the bright-yellow fizzy drink flying everywhere. And it took me a second to catch on, too: even as I felt myself getting I drenched I think I was in disbelief at the sheer stupidity of what I was doing, so I kept right on shaking the bottle for another second, soaking my clothes, dinner, and workstation in sugary goodness.
Yeah, I’m awesome.
So I’m on Day 2 as a Kiva Fellow at XacBank, here in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. XacBank is the first microfinance institution Kiva has partnered with in this country, and I have been given specific instructions to make a good first impression as a Kiva representative because Kiva is super-excited about the partnership. And I am, too: I’ve been pumped to get to Mongolia ever since I heard Kiva would be starting operations here.
In Azerbaijan, where I spent about two months as a Fellow before coming here, each of the MFIs I worked with rents a few rooms and has a few employees in their main office. I got to know the CEOs personally. We all wore sweaters to work most days. The employees were tight, like families.
XacBank (pronounced haas-bank) is like — well, a bank. It’s a microfinance bank, but it’s definitely a bank. Gleaming marble floors. ATMs. Currency exchange. An HR department. Fatigue-wearing security guards with guns. Suits and ties. A conference room with snazzy rolling chairs.
So, of course, Day 2, I break a mug right in the hallway by the stairs, the most high-traffic part of the office. I’m actually thinking, as I put the mug down on the blatantly-neither-flat-nor-level Hyundai water cooler (see photo): “This sure seems likely to fall, as this is not a flat surface.” I’m actually thinking that.
This is not a flat surface.
And this is not a new experience. I’ve been down this road before, either thinking “if I back up any more, I’ll put my tail light out on that fire hydrant,” or “if I flick this cigarette butt that way, it’ll hit that dude’s Harley,” and then proceeding to do it anyway.
So now I’m picking up broken ceramic shards and apologizing to whoever walks by. And I’m having a lousy day — I’m new to this country, it’s freezing cold, there’s bad news coming by e-mail from home and I’m too far away to be of help, I feel lonely and jet-lagged — and I’m experiencing wave after wave of let’s-call-the-new-guy-’butterfingers’ shame.
“In Mongolia,” he says, “it’s good luck if you break something. We say that if you break a glass, all conflicts will go away. So now, any conflicts people were having with each other on this floor will be solved.”
I’m not sure if this is true, or if he was just feeling sorry for me and decided to make something up. It made me feel better, though.
Entry Filed under: Azerbaijan, KF6 (Kiva Fellows 6th Class), KF7 (Kiva Fellows 7th Class), Mongolia, XacBank. Tags: ATMs, butterfingers, clumsiness, cold, copyediting, first impressions, flatness, freezing cold, mongolia, mug, new guy, nice guy, Orangina, superstition, very cold, working in a big bank, XacBank, you bought it, you break it.
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1. Lhagva.E | 5 January 2009 at 00:02
The guy who tried to cheer you up was Gantulga.TU (Head of E-Banking Dept, Marketing Div) and its a true that Mongolians believe if someone breaks a glass or a chinaware it brings good luck in some way.
I heard someone break a mug outside in the hall and I was thinking it might have been somebody from the law department.
We have a saying here in Mongolia “If you drink the water, you must follow the customs” what I am trying to say is that if you want the best out of UB and Mongolian people be willing to participate in everything we have to offer. /excessive drinking will be mandatory/
2. Kieran Ball (KF6) | 5 January 2009 at 03:34
I know quite a few people who will be delighted to know that breaking things brings good luck, from a Mongolian point of view at least but I’m sure globally applicable, as it is a perfect comeback to any complaints from uptight perfect hand-eye coordinated snobs.
I was wondering who the lucky Fellow going to Mongolia would be and now I know, I’m so jealous! All the best for your new adventure.
3. Sarah Lawson | 5 January 2009 at 04:10
Hey Mark,
Don’t feel bad about breaking the mug. I too, have had some moments with the staff here – burning my leg on the Kiva contact’s motorcycle the first day, having the Director walk in on me in the bathroom (that was awkward), and generally stumbling on everything in this office because I am so much taller than everyone. Or at least that is what I tell myself. The good thing is, they expect all these things from foreigners and are fine with it. Now that I actually do a few things right they are very surprised (maybe even too surprised). Despite all these faults, everyone does seem genuinely to like me. There must be something endearing about being a self-deprecating American
Sarah
4. Jan & John | 5 January 2009 at 18:44
Hang in there Mark. Do it for all of us us – Kiva Friends are as excited as Kiva itself is about XacBank and waiting patiently to hit the lend button on loans to Mongolia
And now we will also be watching for more of your posts to allow us to see what you see and feel what you feel. Thanks for being there. Jan
5. Sierra Visher | 5 January 2009 at 20:43
On the first day at Prisma, I couldn’t turn the water in the bathroom off. It just kept streaming out…I can almost hear the lempira’s its costing Prisma pinging in the bottom of the sink. It just doesn’t stop! The stupid nobs spin with out any traction! GAH!! I have to ask for help, and the security guard (also gun-toting) comes in and pushes down on the nob. I actually had to push it down to start it, so I don’t know how I possibly could miss pushing down to stop it.
While I was looking for the security guard, the floor flooded.
You are doing great, and I can’t wait to see pictures of Mongolia!!
6. Jim Anderson | 5 January 2009 at 22:53
Keep up the good work, Mark. And welcome to Mongolia. If all you’ve done is crack a coffee mug and haven’t cracked your head on the ice, then you’re doing fine. Would love to hear more about how it’s going, give me a call.
Jim
Mercy Corps Financial Services
Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia
9984-8398
7. Lander Burr | 5 January 2009 at 22:59
Hey Man,
My apologies for delighting in your misery, but your post just made my day better. Best of luck with your work.
8. Sarah Forbes | 7 January 2009 at 03:25
Perhaps I should be concentrating on empathizing with you and sending stories of all the times I’ve made a fool of myself here in Kenya, or taking the time to wish you good luck in Mongolia, but quite frankly, all I can think about is the image of you sitting at your newspaper desk, shaking Orangina all over yourself. It’s cracking me up.
Thanks for making my day better too, Mark!
~sarah, kf6-kenya
9. milena08 | 15 January 2009 at 02:44
One time at a work function I mistook a bottle of coca cola for a bottle of ketchup. Without looking, I poured coke all over my burger.
Hang in there, buddy. Tuesday was my first day at K-Met and I needed Sarah’s help to figure out how to flush the toilet.
I laughed at your post.
~Milena, KF6 K-Met
10. J | 11 July 2009 at 06:49
What a sweet post; kindness comes unexpectedly sometimes and just when we most need it.
I love “klutz” stories, by the way. I think they make the rest of us feel not so alone!!!