balik kampung

i woke up this morning at 9 AM, but it was dark out, my bed was cramped and uneven and there were people all around me asleep in the dark. this happens to me every few months, i find myself waking up in a strange place with no idea of where in the world i am. i have gotten so used to it that the events have become almost a ritual. they are nearly the same each time, but not quite. the people i wake up with are never the same, even the bed changes. why do i let this happen to me? because i need to go home.

i woke up on a plane headed to paris for a 12 hour transit and then on to the US. when i boarded the plane i was in 1C, but as i was standing and waiting, an attractive indian woman who i have seen in my second favorite KL cafe, asked me to change seats with her. my seat mate was a friend of hers and if i moved they could work together during the flight. the pitch was just believable enough that i agreed before i could think the consequences through. her seat was 5C, which is a row added behind the business galley that shares a wall with economy.

i probably would have moved either way, but i should have taken the time to do the math. if i had not moved i would have been using the full-size head near the cockpit. i realized this while i was using the the chick-coup sized head near my new seat. bathrooms that allow you to change to your pajamas with room left over are a luxury that i have learned to enjoy and search out on long flights.

sitting in front would also have left me isolated from the crying child sitting immediately behind me in the first economy row. i am pretty sure the baby was the reason the woman wanted to move in the first place. she, the baby not the lady, was crying when i took took the new seat, and i figured it out immediately that i had been conned. but babies cry, and being cramped on a flight is almost enough to get me to emotionally flare, so i try to not let the crying bother me. rather than going and asking for my seat back i thought it was better that i was there, rather than someone who would be upset by it the entire flight. who wants the negative vibes of tear induced frustration flowing around the plane.

so here i am sitting in a lounge in paris. it's a rainy day, so the idea of taking the train down to the city has been altered. i am going to read, write, do work email and maybe code for the next few hours. it took me three terminal changes to find my gate, three seat changes to find power points that worked, but i have surprisingly free network access and a mostly comfortable leather seat. i have also just bumped into another pseudo-star on a business trip. i was sitting two seats away from a highly recognizable actor from the bond movies of my youth. i didn't know who it was before he stood up, i was focused on his indian companion, but at 7 feet tall he stood out in the crowd.

why am i spending this much time, money and effort to move myself halfway around the world? why is my back aching, my body clock completely out of alignment and my schedule blown for 2 full days? to attend meetings on planning for next year and kick off projects, of course. also to see my kids, get some music, sleep in my own bed, drive a car i like, go to my favorite chinese/sushi place and have other comforts i miss while on the other side of the world.

this is why anyone would go home isn't it?

one hamburger

have you ever tried to explain to an american why they don't understand the world? americans who leave the US find their vision of the world, and the place that america holds within it, is very different from those of the people they meet. growing up in the US you are taught that the world is a dangerous place; but that with truth, justice and the american way things will improve. after being outside the US, you realize that you don't even know what the american way is. that's the issue, american's are are not good at seeing there is another way to do anything.

i have been living outside the US for almost 5 years now. when i decided to leave, the seasons were changing at the same time i needed to move to the other side of the world. i was moving to a place where the change in season is more subdued than the summer to winter change of my home. the subtle nature of the seasons is something strange to an american (outside of southern california). americans don't do subtle, we expect things being hard, fast and direct. it takes experiencing another place and culture to realize there are more than one way to do things.

in malaysia there is one political party that has ruled the country for 50 years. this one party is actually made up of three political parties separated largely by language. in the US there are two political parties, with an occasional alternative party thrown in once a decade or so. in the US the parties are not broken down by ethnicity, language, region or even political belief, 40% of the electorate is considered independent and moves between these parties with the ease of trying on a new t-shirt.

malaysia has begun to change, there is almost a second party, and there are almost open elections. but there remains 3 major ethnic groups that make up distinct voting blocks. the US has only one electorate. the people do not see themselves as 3, 4 or 37 groups, because americans do not embrace the subtle differences. they are a single people not matter where their grandparents lived and what color their skin is. at home they speak what ever language they choose, but in public 96% of them speak english "well" or "very well". there is no official language at the federal level in the US, but the country still finds a way to educate and communicate among it's people. in the rest of the world there are "official languages", and ethnically separated schools that hobble a student from ever learning it well enough to participate in government.

so there is the core difference, amercians have one language. it is properly called american, but they call it english while they refuse to pronounce or spell it as taught in england. this one language means they can understand and disagree with each other with clarity. because of that there is little confusion, you then do not have the ability to say that what you said is not what you said. we can leave clinton and his "what is is" comments aside, we all know bill was officially european the day he stated classes in oxford. this lack of wiggle room from translation, or can we say directness, is the heart of the american mind-set.

i was trying to explain this to someone who lives in the US, but grew up in eastern europe. the thing i pointed out was that americans have only one set of plugs. there are plugs with an added point for grounding, but they all have the standard, orderly, two flat points. amercians would be shocked to go to the mall, buy a gadget, take it home and not be able to plug it into the wall. this is the issue with americans, no need for adaptors. again they expect no translation. living in the US is easy, you just open the box and plug in.

this ease is throughout the entire culture, americans have an entirely native meal, aptly named the happy meal. sure there are other burgers, but McD's is the clear winner when it comes to consumption. natives will remind you that hamburgers are the canonical american meal. that is clearly the case; it is a sandwich (named for the english city) made of beef and named after hamburg (the german city where it was created). by the way, americans eat their burgers with fries (not chips, that word is used for what you know as crisps), or pommes frite as they are called in belgium where the dish was created; not france as americans will tell you. so the classic american meal is mix of european dishes topped with ketchup a chinese sauce that went to UK from malaysia. (seriously look it up)

if you try to explain any of this to an american, or the fact that scampi is the italian word for shrimp so they are ordering "shrimp shrimp" for dinner, that jelly donuts are not american but german, and that ordering a diet coke with the super-sized meal under the golden arches while wearing running shoes you never use to run, are all things that the rest of the world makes fun of them for, the american will act as though you are not speaking american. they will seem confused and remind you that this is america and you should find a way to fit in. you need to adapt and become an american. go to school, learn the language and plug into the culture. they will be direct and assure you it's the american way and that doing it that way is best for you.

american's don't understand because they are always right. it's hard being always right, but if you practice and learn to speak their language, anyone can do it. you might find it hard without the ability to pretend you don't understand, but you get used to it. you also get used to taking the best from all over the world and believing that if it's good it must have come from the US. we may not know the correct name, or origin, of anything but we know its ours and that we made it the best by making it american.

we are not subtle, but at least we don't need to translate that.

choosing overachievement

we all have choices to make everyday. they can be big or small, some effect our lives, most just happen without us even noticing. humans are tuned to make choices quickly, sometimes so fast that the choice is made before we even realize we need to choose. this is a good thing when the choice is flee or fight, and the cause is a yet unseen predator. malcom gladwell wrote about this in blink, where he tried to get people to trust their instincts and just let choices happen. his point was that we get in trouble when we over-think the situations in front of us. i have been thinking about why someone would choose to be an over-achiever.

having found myself squarely on one side of the personality bell-curve, i don't really see it as a choice for achievement. it feels like "choosing" other things which there is really no choice in, like your sexuality. meaning for most people it is just a fact of who they are. the deeper personality traits they have are the driving force on achievement. does someone need to have control over their situation? are they willing to put in more than those around them to have a higher return on their investment? are they willing to "do what it takes" rather than simply "try to do it".

having never felt overly motivated, i grew up thinking i was a slacker. i was a crossing-guard (think outdoor proctor) in the 5th grade, and had no idea that other kids saw this as immediate access to the teachers pet group. i played sports almost every season, and was a life-guard as soon as i turned 16. i got my job on the beach by assisting on a save while there to interview; literally jumping in when asked. i selected my college because someone told me i couldn't get accepted; and if i did i would fail out. i became a developer because a consultant lied to me and i wanted to make a point. all of these things just happened, i never went out looking for them, they were just part of my day and i went with it. every single one were steps that led me to where i am right now.

i have also noticed that most of my good luck happens immediately following a failure of some sort. a few years ago i probably could have climbed into a bottle an drowned myself without anyone being surprised. instead i asked for a job i didn't know i wanted. i allowed the emotional response to make me move, but for the direction to be positive rather than destructive. but it wasn't a choice, i never sat down and thought about it, it just happened the way it felt like it should.

so why did gladwell get to write a book on this subject? because people have been conditioned to think things through after a round of requirements gathering and analysis. the idea is that if you are not careful you will make mistakes. but look at all the people out there who did just that, they were careful and they planned. they made decisions that made sense, and they thought were the things they wanted. look at them now, they are miserable and they make the people around them miserable in the process.

good thing they had a list and made sure the dotted the i's and crossed the t's. the issue is people don't know, or more likely accept, who they really are. their inability to be honest blocks their ability to choose in a rational way. so they choose in an irrational way. they choose in a way that can not work, because it's based on a hope rather than reality. they hope they, or someone next to them, are someone they are not. or they hope no one else will not find out what they already know.

not everyone is built for over-achievement, and trying to act like they are is a great way to be miserable. but there is a corollary, not everyone is built for under-achievement either, and it is just as bad to try to believe that you are a bohemian slacker with average prospects when you are anything but. what you need to do is admit who and what you are, and then just go with it.

life is about accepting who you are. if you are over thinking it, try to blink.

in threes

i woke up early this morning and tried to decide what to do. i went to sleep with a fever and slept in a pool of sweat. i woke up sore, tired and hungry as the sun came up. i wanted to both start the day and go back to sleep. as i laid pondering the options, i sensed a feeling of dread. there was something wrong with the force. i hate when i connect with my yoda side, because it is normally a precursor to something bad that is about to happen. it's a bit past noon and i am well on my way to knowing why i wanted to stay in bed today.

the phone rang a few hours later. i had slept and woken back up. i was laying there trying to decide how to structure my day. i have an appointment later today that i wanted to cancel. i needed food and had no idea which of the limited choices to indulge. i listened to the conversation, by the third word i knew it was one of those calls you do not want to receive on a rainy sunday morning. actually, the feeling of dread lifted a bit when it turned out that the car accident that was being discussed was without personal injury. a mercedes coupe was broken, and a friend needed a ride, but the thoughts of hospitals and tubes were washed away.

i wasn't needed for this errand of rescue. this was a pick-up and drop-off. the first event was not over, but it was not a crisis.

that is when the second event came in the form of an email. the email was titled "tears" and included the words, "i took my life at 5 AM this morning". i looked at the time it was sent, midnight, just after i had fallen asleep. it was from someone who successfully accomplishes almost everything she tries. at that moment i believed i had found the dread of the day, my friend has been dealing with the crumbling of one commitment and had decided to commit to another direction. as i sat and looked at the words, i remembered my grandfather who took the ultimate control of his life, making a final statement, by controlling the time and place of his death.

i continued reading the words and found that the statement was made, but thankfully the act was not successful. the issue with friends who are overachievers is that you know they accomplish the things they set out to do. there was no regret, there was cold and hard analysis of the situation. there is clearly a desire to finish the project. overachievers learn from their mistakes, they get better at execution and they hit their goals. all thoughts that again remind me of my equally achieving grandfather.

the second event is not over, but the crisis is probably not going to be today. today is for the feelings of sorrow that someone i care about would want to select this as their next project.

the dread of the day has not abated. being a superstitious rationalist i am all too aware of the rule of three, and being a surfer i know that the last wave in the set is normally the largest. i am standing back and waiting for the last wave now. i am hoping the wave is not a tsunami, because i have no idea where the evacuation zone is. i would like to believe the wave is not coming, but as a long time rider of the waves i can still feel the set rolling in. now i know why my arms ached this morning,

my inner-yoda was telling me to paddle.

//*******************************************

people build walls to stop waves from washing them away don't they? like the walls in new orleans that collapsed and flooded the city. reminding us why walls need to be maintained.

********************************************//

comfortably upset

living on the other side of the world, especially in a place that goes out of it's way to make people believe that everything must follow rules that make no sense, can get frustrating. the worst of those times are when you don't feel well and you crave the comforts that you left in the patriot homeland. it makes you focus on the things you wish you had, but can not get.

i have gotten used to not having access to certain things. not big things, little things, things that a pampered amercian would have at all times, things like medicines that work, services that serve and comforts that provide comfort.

panadol doesn't work for me, it does less than nothing, and taking 8 pills for a headache and having it pulse away is just no fun at all. so i stock up on pink jelly-coated tablets when i am in the US and hope the number of headaches between each trip, multiplied by 3 or 4 tablets needed to combat each, is less than the stock count of pills i carry back to the land of strange and ineffective drugs.

the fact that i have headaches and have a solution doesn't change the fact that i have other needs like stomachaches, which are called oddly gastric here. this of course also means that i need a solution for acid reflux, again i have to import and manage my own supply of pepcid AC because the bottles of chalky white liquid and the pills the pharmacist will offer also do nothing to stop the acid that chews my stomach and wakes me up while i sleep. the list continues, but the solutions begin to run out.

it might be possible that i am difficult, or that i simply like products which work for me; even if i need to carry them from the other side of the world. but there are limits to the things i can bring here. my favorite wine, beer, whiskey, swim shorts, bicycle, pizza, pasta, yogurt, classic DVD and head bands are a few of the items i can not get here, and have almost no acceptable replacement. the fact that i can't get them is something i am normally okay with. the reason i can't get them is beyond me. a country that says it is trying to become a high income economy sometimes tries to have high quality items and good service as the backbone of the system. crappy service, bad products and lack of access is the hallmark of a dysfunctional system.

as my day progressed today, my stomach started to grumble and pressure built in uncomfortable ways. i began to think the best thing for me was to go home, lay on the couch and eat some comfort food. i didn't need much more than time to recover from this, but i wanted to feel comfortable and happy as i laid down with a grumbly tummy and waited for it to pass. the bump in my plan was that i had no food in the fridge and no desire to eat the standard dinner choices, sadly indian, thai, vietmanese and chinese foods are just not comfort food for an irish american with an upset intestinal track.

room service is a company that delivers dinners to expats all over KL. they have a strangely shaped catalog that collects the menus of the restaurants you can order from. i read the menu front to back, and found a single restaurant to order from. there was pizza with false sausage i almost ordered, there was chicken in strange sauce that i could have ordered, but i went with german/swiss pork and whipped potatoes with a gravy that tastes like ketchup. if you don't know it potatoes are like children, they should never be whipped and gravy should never, ever, ever taste like ketchup; even if it is a german kitchen.

there was no comfort from the dinner. it was just not what was needed to settle me down and allow me to feel better. so i am laying on the couch, watching an 11-year old television show about american politics, and thinking about the lack of access to quality items that help improve life and comfort. i am looking forward to the day that KL has all of the quality and comfort that the rest of the world enjoys.

until then, i have a headache, i need to go take a couple pills.

private walls

i have always known that i have some pretty serious walls. i started building them the summer of 1974, just as the nixon administration was falling apart. well, maybe there were elements of the walls before that, but august 1974 was the first time i mixed the cement and filled the cracks to ensure my walls would be strong and lasting. as the years have passed i have been told that my walls are limiting and i should work to take them down. last weekend i realized just how much i need walls and why they make me so comfortable.

the summer has been filled with stress and pressure. my kids came for their 5th trip to asia, most of the stress of this trip is the time and effort to organize the logistics of flights and schedules for a family full of over committed and under organized people. even those not actually flying have needs that must be taken into account. it makes the spring a season of delicate balance, as the flowers are blooming back in the US the opportunities to discuss and debate come to life.

i had the added fun of spending most of the spring on yoyo flights between here and china. other than the weekend climb of the great wall or the afternoon walk through the forbidden city, there were few things i would want to do in beijing again. the fact that the two elements i enjoyed were a 4,000 mi long wall known as "the long fortress", and a city built of a series of walls enclosing ever smaller areas ending in the final space that was to protect one man from those closest to him, should not be overlooked as indicators of my inner self.

after the flights, after the kids, after the crazy push to finish a crazy project, it was time to get away and regroup. this sounded like a good thing and there were enough reasons to make it seem acceptable. but getting away came with another cycle of organizational logistics, location + flights + resort + leave time all come into play. the final location was the second choice of island, in the third choice of country. it was the place that flights were available to, and where a room could be found. the resort selected was done as a whim, almost randomly selected based on a photo and the hope that there would be space to spread out.

the room was exactly what i had hoped it would be, and spreading out is exactly what it allowed. a quiet resort, tucked into a tranquil area with nothing near by and nothing to do but relax. but best of all, a room surrounded by walls that allowed sunlight to bounce off the private pool and stream in the open french doors to the room within. add to this room service, a pile of books and a broken WiFi system and the ability to keep the world at bay for a long-long weekend was nearly complete.

so what i have learned about myself during this time is that although i live in a high tower with low walls all around, although my tower overlooks rolling jungle hills and distant city scape, what i really need are the private walls that surround me and allow me to disconnect from the constant needs of communication and connection. i don't need this everyday, but after the stress of successful projects and parenting, diving into a pool and not worrying about who is watching, who is going to question or comment, who is going to have an uninvited opinion, is very relaxing indeed.

walls are there for privacy, for comfort and for protection. i have built up walls in the past few years, repairing those that i had allowed to fall into disrepair while i was being told they were not needed. but having them again reminds me of why i put them up in the first place. and now that they are back i am much like the campaign slogan from nixon's successful presidential run in 1968:

"the new nixon: tanned, rested and ready"