a unique perspective on this crazy world

Archive for the ‘life philosophy’ Category

sucking it up to make the world a better place :)

Yesterday I was at the bank trying to figure out how to transfer euros to a German bank account.  The purpose of this mission was to pay my share of the fees related to my German divorce.  It is one of the most amicable splits in history so it was a little shocking to see how much it was going to cost me.

But Germans are good at logic so it was explained to me that we were not paying for the actual time incurred by the professionals to deal with our actual situation.  Instead, we were subsidising other couples who had made less sensible decisions.  The fees to be paid are based on a schedule determined by the net worth of the divorcing couples.  The concept behind this is to make sure that even couples with few assets and lots of anger can afford to get a divorce and don’t have to stay together because they can’t afford to be apart.

I am a socialist at heart.  So happy to pay a little more than my fair share for the greater good of the entire social framework.  It’s a concept that doesn’t go down so well with the average Republican.  I just don’t get it.  HOW rich does anyone really need to be?

I like to live my life all over the map.  I purposely tried to spend time in my room at the Four Seasons because, hey, I was staying at the Four Seasons!  And my mom and I postponed our visit to the National Gallery because they offered us free champagne when we checked into Claridge’s – and who says “no” to free champagne???  One of the best meals of my life was my private five course chef’s menu dinner at the Meridien in Shanghai with the cute French chef taking my order and then popping out to check on me after every course.

So I appreciate how enjoyable it is to have a little cash to throw around 🙂 But I enjoy it more when there is someone there with me to spoil.  And most of the best memories of my life cost less than $100, sometimes less than 10.  Most of my happiness comes from interacting with others – and that is free.  Too much money can lure you away from actually living your life.

Why I became a socialist.  It all started when I was about 12.  I was always good with my allowance and have those strong fiscal Scottish genes.  So I was a young conservative, a Republican wrapped in the Canadian flag really.  I thought my father shared all my views.  But one day I said something and his response shook up my world.  He said we did not all start with the same advantages so it was unfair – and wrong – to adopt that great conservative stance that a social safety net was not required. Making it hard would make everyone try harder.

Right now I am reading two fantastic books about money, Niall Ferguson’s The Ascent of Money and Roger Lowenstein’s Origins of the Crash.  You will be hearing more about them in future posts.  Lots of information to support my arguments 🙂  and food for thought.

Last night I was reading about the origin of the welfare state.  Not surprisingly, Germany invented it!  German society runs really well.  Having seen it in action, I am happy to pay the fees for my divorce.  Sucking it up, paying your share and contributing to the greater good of your society really is a lot more rewarding than a pair of Jimmy Choos…

bewitching you with her beauty :)

That statement traditionally refers to an ingénue.  But I’ve always described Vancouver as a pretty girl who doesn’t have to try very hard.  Like a pretty young girl, it’s a city that doesn’t seem to have an economic plan or purpose.  It figures it will just find a rich husband – or three – and everything will be fine.  And so far it seems to be working.  It might suck for the rest of us but being pretty does seem to work…

I have been working to try and get my life under control a bit after all the travel so this post was actually inspired by events over a week ago – but, as if by divine providence, the sun came out today and it seemed the right day to write it after all…

A week ago this past Saturday was one of those glorious days when you remember Vancouver is one of the ten most beautiful cities in the entire world.  I can see the water from my living room window so was looking in the mirror to put on makeup in natural light and behind me there was this glorious swoosh of jet after jet of water.  I think it might be an installation put in for the 2010 Olympics.  There were spectacular water shows every night during the closing fireworks at Yaletown Live City.

The jets of water just accented the brilliant blue sky and water as the sun shone on the green grass of the park.  I may be a little more susceptible to aesthetics than most.  I really appreciate beautiful things, whether they are cities, architecture, art, fashion…  It’s definitely one of the reasons I have developed a gigantic crush on this piece of the earth that is hard to duplicate anywhere else.

I have had greater success falling for cities than falling for men 😉  Most of the relationships have lasted longer anyway… and been less complicated.

It was due to a guy that I first moved to Vancouver.  And it was when we broke up that I realized he and I may not be soulmates but this city was.  While I have never been anywhere that surpasses the beauty of this place on the right day, it is definitely a female city, moody and full of drama.  It’s more a low level passive-aggressive girlfriend, not a full blown Latina who might throw a heavy object at your head without warning.

Vancouver is the girl who cries to get her own way.  So, not surprisingly, on the day after the first significant breakup of my life, it was raining… but it was just a mist.  And I was still in my insane period where I lived here but refused to buy an umbrella, as if somehow by NOT owning an umbrella I could will away the rain 🙂

And most of the rain in Vancouver is sneaky.  It’s Scottish rain.  Lots of it… but often just a fine mist.  So it’s not so hard to survive without an umbrella.  Or not realize you are getting soaked to the skin.  When I started out wandering aimlessly around the city trying to figure out how I felt about my newly single status, I was dry.  And the rain was a very fine mist, easy to dismiss.  But I walked for hours, along stretches of forlorn beachfront, through residential neighbourhoods, along the Seawall into Stanley Park on a day the crowds were staying home.

When I finally arrived back home, I wasn’t too sure how I felt about the breakup or where my life was going to go.  I was only 24 so I knew my whole life was ahead of me.  And I knew I was absolutely SOAKED to the skin.  I had to take off every piece of clothing – and then dry myself with a towel.  I wrapped myself up in a fluffy robe and made some popcorn.  And thought about how I really didn’t know if I should be with Mike or not.  But I DID know he had brought me to this city.  And I WAS in LOVE with this city.  Even in the rain, I loved it.  It was a relationship that would last.  We will soon have our 30th anniversary.  Will I celebrate it with some guy – or will it just be the city and me? 😉

if you can’t join the club, try being a rebel :)

Thursday night was the monthly alumni networking session for Ivy Business School.  I never really thought I would be someone who would go to business school, let alone become part of a business school alumni organization.  But I really like the organizers so I go to chat with people – and cause trouble 😉

This week I said inflammatory things about executive pay levels and expressed the view that Quebec is the equivalent to a whiny spoiled brat within confederation (of course, part of that audience included French Canadians – otherwise it would have been boring 😉

No one kicked me out of the club though.  And since it’s principally men I think they secretly like the fact that I normally show up in short skirts and flirt with them.  Because I don’t have a proper job so am rarely coming there from an office.

But I turned out more business school than I would have ever thought possible.  I may not have a proper job but I have a decently successfully consulting practice that I am hoping will allow me to semi-retire by 55 and keep bringing in a little cash flow as long as it’s entertaining.

So I did learn a thing or two at Western… as the business school was known back in my day – before the rebranding and corporate sponsorship.  In those days, it was the most famous business school in Canada and trying hard to be the Canadian version of “Harvard Business School.”  We used the case study method and a lot of the cases we discussed had been written at Harvard.

This was the 80’s, people.  You’ve seen Wall Street?  The 80s were actually a really interesting time.  The world was full of poverty and protest.  We were well past the glories of the post-war renaissance and everyone was trying to come to grips with what to do with the western world.  Somehow Germany and Japan had lost the political war but won economically.

So everyone in North America was trying to figure out how to kick start the economy.  Some things worked.  Some things didn’t.  It was a decade filled with both serious recession and economic excess.  It was actually a pretty interesting time to be in business school with academics trying to figure it all out.

I’m not entirely sure how I got into Western Business School in 1983.  I had to work every minute to pay for it so managed to convince them I didn’t need to do the requisite courses and would parachute in from a Bachelor of Commerce program at the University of Manitoba to third year business school at the University of Western Ontario.

I had planned on the challenge being the academic part of my life but that was pretty easy.  What I was completely unprepared for was the fact that I was now part of one of the “country club” university choices made by children of privilege from Toronto who had attended private schools in the great British tradition.

I felt like a complete alien.  I had no idea what to say and no chance of blending in.  Luckily, I spent the summer between third and fourth year in Calgary at the lucrative summer job in an oil company I had secured from my University of Manitoba connections.  The summer of 1983 will remain one of the most important periods of my life.  I still have a number of friends from those four months.

But what changed my Western experience was meeting Mike.  He was from Toronto.  He had gone to private school.  He was impossibly sophisticated to a country bumpkin like me.  I spent the first party we threw together in the kitchen cutting fruit cause I had no idea how to talk to his friends.  It was as though I had been transported into the Bloomsburg circle without a manual.

Mike taught me a lot about life – and was the catalyst for my conversion to city girl and eventually to globe-trotting adventuress.  But what was most important for me that summer was Mike introducing me into his world of “faux punks”.  He was obsessed with music so that was the crux of it.  But the people he knew dressed funny.  We tried to be shocking.  We wanted to shake up society.

There is a lot more to say about the 80s.  But what changed for me at the country club is that I went back into fourth year not caring about trying to fit it anymore.  I didn’t have the background.  I didn’t have the cash.  So I wouldn’t be Eliza Doolittle.  I would be Siouxsie Sioux.

It was a wonderful lesson.  If you don’t care about fitting in and don’t try, people will gravitate to you.  They will be fascinated.  Nobody kicked me out of the Ivy Alumni.  I think they like that I liven up the events a little 😉

a thirst for knowledge

Once upon a time that phrase was used by a teacher in conjunction with me.  It surprised me at the time.  I just assumed everyone wanted to know everything 🙂  One of the reasons Sarah and I became friends was because she was one of the first people I met who had felt really sad when she first realized she would never be able to read all the books in the library.

But you have to move past life’s disappointments 🙂  And nowadays there is google and Wikipedia and learning new stuff is a lot faster!  This week I learned about military mail 🙂  My new friend Björn has been temporarily deployed to Afghanistan and he hinted that a package would be more exciting than email.  And that he liked cookies with chocolate chips…

Which definitely increased his chances of getting a package 😉 Those who know me well will know I am kind of famous for baking chocolate chip cookies.  They aren’t very German though so not sure where he encountered them.  When I lived in Germany I had my mom send me chocolate chips for my birthday so that I could make cookies to remind me of home.

He told me the address was valid but it looked a bit strange so I went on-line to make sure it seemed right before heading off to the post office.  That’s when I learned about the Feldpost and Darmstadt.  Feldpost dates back to the eighteenth century, Prussia and the Seven Year’s War.  The coding can disguise the location to which the package is being sent – and military personnel get breaks on the price of postage.  Each country has its own military mail service.

Writing the address brought back memories of Frank.  Given that Frank tried to drown me early in our relationship, it was surprising that we became such great friends.  He didn’t mean to drown me 🙂  I met him on the UN Pilgrammage for Youth sponsored by the Odd Fellows and Rebekahs back when I was just barely 17.  He was from San Diego.  He didn’t realize there were people who didn’t know how to swim so he threw me in the deep end of the pool without any evil intentions.  Luckily I had managed to teach myself how to dog paddle on my yearly visit to the lake and got out of the pool without serious injury.  I think he was more freaked out than I was.

And almost dying does increase your bond with others… He ended up falling for another girl on the trip but I have always been better at being a friend than being a girlfriend so we ended up writing for quite a long time after the trip and he ended up in the army.  His life story was never quite clear and he was the first person I met who seemed like someone from a novel – mysterious, with secrets and a history – very different than the naïve little prairie girl I was back then.

But that trip also brought me to New York City for the first time.  To the “Mean Streets”, going broke, hookers in Times Square New York of the ‘70s.  It was the “real world”.  And I was in it.  There was so much to learn.  To see.  To experience.  My thirst for knowledge grew even greater.  It was actually a reference letter for that trip that inspired the words.

Thanks to the wonders of google and Wikipedia I see the program is still going strong, having started in 1949 as a celebration of the concept of the United Nations.  It was one of the first experiences that profoundly changed my life, far beyond just the thirst for knowledge.

UN Pilgrammage for Youth

This unique Educational Program was established by The Sovereign Grand Lodge Independent Order of Odd Fellows in 1949 when the United Nations was just a four year old “toddler.” Annually the UN Pilgrimage brings together high school students from around the world to study and learn about the United Nations. For young adults interested in world affairs, international relations, economics and/or political sciences this is an opportunity of a life­time to observe the United Nations in person while exchanging views on education, politics and religion. Students tour the United Nations building and listen to behind-the-scenes briefings conducted by specialized United Nations agencies and departments including Ambassadors, Minister Counselors and Country Representatives. Each student (delegate) will participate in in-depth discussions with other young people from around the world as well as make new and lifelong friends. In addition, students experience one of the greatest cities in the world: New York. Attending a Broadway play; St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Rockefeller Center and much more.

 

believing your own press…

Posts have been floating around in my head but it has been intense trying to catch up with my real life… goal is to post something daily… we shall see…

Last week there was an article in the Georgia Straight about Bruce Poon Tip.  Richard Branson was also here talking about himself 🙂

Bruce is not as famous as Richard but does seem to also have a large personality.  I met him once, way back in 1992, when he was at a travel show to promote his fledgling venture – the Great Adventure People.

I knew who he was because I had been to Thailand the year before on my very first foray into the developing world – an Intrepid Travel tour of Thailand.  I had been raised in the school of safe travel – stay at Best Westerns, only travel where they speak English, don’t walk the streets at night…  And then I started dating some guy who had grown up urban in Toronto, taking the subway to school on his own at a young age.  And we went to Montreal for the weekend.  And Mike made me stay in some simple bed and breakfast that he just picked at random.  Why weren’t we at a Best Western where we would be safe!?!  Because we had arrived by train, not car, and were students with almost no cash and no credit cards…

And it was great!  The lady didn’t speak English so it wasn’t a warm and fuzzy experience but it was totally fine and cost $10!  Mike changed my life is so many ways and that lodging choice was only one of them.

I became the kind of girl whose first trip to Europe went something like this… my needy Australian boyfriend who had gone off alone on his eight month tour of Europe because we had just met and I couldn’t afford to travel for eight months called and enticed me into coming to London for a week.  I did the math and the Wardair flight would cost next to nothing, we could stay with his friends in Earl’s Court sleeping on the sofa and we could eat in pubs for a few pounds… so I got my very first passport and arrived at Gatwick with a daypack… practicing packing light for the three month backpacking journey I would join him on a few months later.

Scott got me to backpack through Europe… when it came time to travel back to Canada from Oz, I turned the tables on him and said I wanted to do this “adventure tour” through Thailand.  Having scrambled through Europe on $50 a day carrying my own pack for several kilometres on a regular basis had turned me into the kind of girl who doesn’t do “group tours” 😉  But I knew Thailand was not Europe and a little caution might be in order… so the Intrepid tour sounded like the perfect compromise.  We would travel like a local and it would cost almost nothing but we would have someone who knew his way around in charge of the official details…

http://www.intrepidtravel.com/?promo=CanadaSEM

Scott was a weenie so he was totally freaked at my choice but I told him he had two choices – come with me or meet me in Vancouver once I got there two or three months later…  I’d begun to realize that I had dealt with all the hard stuff when we were travelling in Europe and he was an appendage rather than this boy protecting me from the world so I could conquer Asia without him 🙂

He came along – but by then I realized I was the protector and he was just tagging along…  I also learned that maybe you SHOULD pay for the airport transfer… although you will never get a story that way… The tour cost about $10-15 per day so an airport transfer at $30+ dollars seemed outrageous to me.  Having never been to the developing world, I surmised that we were arriving mid-day so I had tons of time with daylight to find the obscure guesthouse in Chinatown in Bangkok where the tour began.

I am obsessive about details so I had a map for the guesthouse, the name in both English and Thai script… what could go wrong?  Maybe the fact that the taxi driver was likely illiterate… and most tourists crazy enough to just rock up to the airport in Bangkok and organize their own taxi just wanted somewhere to sleep…

So we spent the next two hours driving around Bangkok with the taxi driver trying to drop us off at random guesthouses… me asking for someone who spoke English, trying to figure out how to get out of this infinite loop… and telling Scott to stay in the taxi!  Cause we had paid a flat fee at the airport so I could have the taxi drive us around for hours…

I kept showing the driver the map and the name of the guest house but it became obviously that this strategy was going nowhere and we somehow needed to find OUR guesthouse or we wouldn’t make it onto the tour.  All my preparation started to pay off.  I decided our guest house seemed pretty close to a railway station.  And I might be able to get the taxi driver to understand THAT destination.  And at least then we would know where we were!

It worked.  And luckily I had read copious amounts about Thailand before we arrived so spied in one of the shops a map of Bangkok that had been written in English by Americans and came recommended by my guidebook.  I checked it out… our guest house was on the map!  So I bought it.  And told Scott we were going to walk toward the Chao Phraya River with our backpacks cause it appeared our guest house was on the river so it should be easy to find.

Well… that was when I learned that if you wander the poorer parts of a developing city, the signs are not going to be in English!  And some languages are easier to translate if you are an English speaker… Thai, Arabic… not so much… I just went for counting the number of streets between the railway station and the river!  I was pretty sure we were on the right street but the numbers didn’t add up… we walked past the spot where the guest house should be using the street address.

What to do?  Channel my instincts growing up in the bush… There were a bunch of vehicles in a parking space at the location where the street address would suggest our guest house should be.  It looked like there might be a river if you squinted through the morass of vehicles blocking the view.  So I boldly told Scott, “I think we need to walk through the maze of trucks toward what I think is the river and I bet we will find the guest house where our tour starts.”  And Sherlock would have been proud 😉

If I hadn’t managed to find the starting point for the tour, I would have never known about Bruce.  His name came up when we got to the Golden Triangle and we were so close to Burma (Myanmar by then) you could walk across the bridge on foot and add another country to your list.  Diane (our tour leader) appreciated how enticing it looked so she told us the cautionary tale of Bruce…

Apparently on a past trip she had a traveller named Bruce who because of his mixed ethnicity looked Thai.  Thais could cross into Burma without a problem but not the same for the rest of us.  Bruce was a bit of a brat so he snuck off when Diane wasn’t looking.  What Bruce hadn’t appreciated is that anyone will be welcomed into Burma with open arms.  He thought he was really clever.

But then he tried to leave!  That was another matter entirely, involving cash, camera equipment, bribes, etc.  Diane rescued him.  But she told us that was the extent of her largess.  We knew the score.  So if WE decided to sneak into Burma, we would have to orchestrate our own escape.  The cautionary tale of Bruce worked.  We just took pictures of the border sign.

But that is why when I read the re-branded G Adventures marketing stuff about Bruce I roll my eyes a little bit.  It does seem like Bruce is a pretty cool guy and I will likely take one of his tours at some point – but the idea that HE invented this form of travel… seriously, dude, Diane rescued your ass from rotting in prison in Burma and the concept of low key, hang out with the locals travel was pioneered by Intrepid, not by you, honey.  But you seem to be the more alpha male, beating your chest about how cool you are while the Intrepid guys are just doing their thing.  Me, I am a fan of the beta male… there is a lot to be said for self-deprecation 🙂  Richard – I really think you should turn in your passport.  You must be an American with all that self-promotion 😉

the key of life

I AM working on some proper travel posts – and promise to relay my adventures in Egypt over the next week or two.  But right now I am sitting in the Four Seasons in Cairo (the first in the Middle East).  Some really cool looking Egyptian or Thai desserts have just arrived even though I didn’t order any because I stuffed myself so full of panang gai (a Thai chicken curry) I don’t need to eat for a couple of days…

One of the A&K guys told us on the bus that this is the best Thai restaurant in Cairo.  It has been one of the best Thai meals of my life.  And not only do I get the ubiquitous cute, charming Egyptian servers, they have seated me so that I can watch the Nile in the dark as I eat, all lit up with dinner cruises and ferry boats passing by.

I have always wanted to stay at the Four Seasons but I am too cheap to pay that much for a hotel room.  But since A&K insists I stay here, I am planning to get my money’s worth 🙂  Have already had an amazing bath (a great bathtub rare when one is travelling) and now this incredible meal.  My room feels like a suite and I have a view of the Nile there too.  Apparently I have been upgraded and I am not supposed to tell the others 🙂  Not sure why I got to be the chosen one but maybe I bonded a little more with Sameh and Riccardo…

Bonding with strangers does seem to be a special skill that I acquired somewhere.  This trip has a number of special people and relationships attached to it.  The most memorable will be Tito.  (And then just before I posted this I had a great conversation with Riccardo… so that will be in one of the next posts…)

Tito and I met the first night on the boat.  Sonia had told us that if we wanted serious souvenirs from a vendor we could trust, we should consider the shop on the boat.

While $1 necklaces are fun, I did want to bring home a more lasting souvenir from my first trip to Egypt.  So I was checking out the shop window the first night of the Nile Cruise when I met Tamer (nickname Tito).  I promised him I would come and shop before the cruise was over.

So I spent a long time one afternoon choosing charms (one of the key of life and one of Nefertiti) along with a gorgeous silver chain so I could wear them before I got home.

Taking home a souvenir like that is so much more meaningful.  Tito and I talked about life, Egyptian politics and personal style.  On the final night I hugged him and left lipstick stains on both his cheeks, marking him.  I think that meant I was due to return to Egypt 🙂

Tito sold me a necklace charm that represents the key of life.  But I think the real key of life is to take chances, engage people and smile a lot – you too could be staring at a beautifully bright neon-coloured ship passing before you on the famous Nile – a river that has provided life to many.

turning european…

In the 80s, turning Japanese seemed a popular theme.  But somewhere the last decade or two, I turned European.

I don’t always get it right.  The cheek kissing is always fraught with awkwardness and I am constantly confused as to how many cheeks to kiss – and if I should be leaving lipstick marks or just air kissing.

But – as the bartender on my last night in Paris noted – and confirmed by his behaviour – one of the big attributes of Europeans is hospitality.  And I would also add – charm.  A big part of hospitality.  Without European hospitality, I would never have married a European man.  But that is a whole other story…

In a world where I increasingly worry about the loss of manners and civility, the Europeans are there trying to prove charm is still alive and well.  That sometimes you need to take time to perform a task properly, not just efficiently.  I have seen it across three countries in the very recent past.  The French are likely the most charming, performing tasks with both reserve and aplomb, but I have been impressed by all the Europeans I have encountered on my trip.

My final cultural adventures were two-fold.

First, I stood in the bitter cold waiting to buy a ticket to the Helmut Newton exhibition.  But I was at the Grand Palais so that provided some wonderful photographic opportunities and Helmut Newton is worth freezing off your fingers.  What is more gratifying was to see how packed it is!  I wasn’t quite sure what the four year olds were making of the shots of women wearing saddles but this is how they grow up to be European with a sophisticated world view and an ability to discuss art as readily as sport.

The second cultural adventure was more unique.  I wanted to mail a birthday present purchased in Paris before I left France.  How often do you walk past the Louvre to find the post office?  Seulement en Paris!  A beautiful, fascinating city that I would encourage everyone to visit.  No matter where you stay or what you do, Paris is certain to weave its magic.

One of my favourite Paris adventures was done on a budget.  To even out our restaurant spending, we decided to go to Monoprix and buy bread, cheese, some of those transcendent cold cuts, a mini bottle of champagne and some red wine.  It was a beautiful summer evening so we would indulge in all our treats on the breakfast terrace of our small hotel near the Eiffel Tower (we had a picnic on the lawn there one night as well).  We couldn’t find our corkscrew.  Things looked complicated.  But we were in Paris – so not only was a corkscrew produced, they opened our wine for us!  And then we had that “only in Paris” moment.   It was hot so the windows were open in the building opposite us.  And someone was practicing her cello.  So our dinner was accompanied by live classical music.

Leaving Paris is hard.   Having a memorable experience in Paris is a piece of cake.  Just ask my mom.  She told me she didn’t need to go to Paris.  It wasn’t on her bucket list.  Just by accident she turned 65 on the plane.  So this trip I suggested we should return for 75 as an anniversary celebration.  She said she’d make sure she had good walking shoes.  I’m a little worried that once she has the macarons at Pierre Hermé, I may not be able to convince her to leave…

Speaking of great walking shoes, I need to extend a shout out to Browns.  Just before I embarked on this adventure, I bought a pair of black patent driving moccasins.  Possibly one of the world’s most perfect travel shoes!  The Browns version are insanely comfortable.  I have  been wearing them every day as I trundle over the cobblestones.  By the time I get home, I will have already gotten my money’s worth 🙂  I would highly recommend a pair of Brown’s loafers.  Even though my friends all seem to think that I spend all my time in showstopping 4 inch heels, the real truth is that a large majority of my life is spent wearing Browns loafers – because they combine such a great mix of style, comfort and value.  And they are now on-line… check them out 🙂

http://www.brownsshoes.com/

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