Moving Forward; Looking Back.

I leave in little more than 36 hours. It can't come fast enough. The more I've reminded myself about the luxuries of home, the more I've longed for it. That's not what this is about though.

* * *

The other day I caught myself crossing a one-way street. And I immediately knew I was familiar in my surroundings. I've always nurtured the idea that one-way streets are a barometer of sorts. Gauging how acclimatized one is to the particular locale. It's like this: If you watch someone cross a one-way street and they look both ways, they're not that comfortable in their surroundings. It's when your strides have become precipitous, when the sleet and wind inflame your desire to get home and your foot boldly leaves the curb, as you glance to the right, and only to the right, that you know you're at home in the neighborhood. My shoulders shrugged, as I tried my hardest to make my pea coat hide the exposed skin on my cheeks. I strode brazenly into the roadway without a thought of turning to the left. It was a one-way street and I knew it, I didn't consciously think about looking both ways, I just wanted to get home as fast as possible and I knew it. The moment of self-realization came a few steps into the road.

In the 8 months that I've been here, a lot has changed and a lot has remained the same. It has been a lot of fun, and a lot of things I can best describe as the exact opposite of fun. To say I’m more able to get around than when I first arrived is an under statement of the highest order. Upon my delivery to this backwards-ass land some 32 weeks ago I was paraplegic-style immobile. I couldn’t get anywhere without all kinds of help. If I did arrive somewhere, I didn’t know how to get what I wanted. Now I’m a ninja of the public transport system and have explored the city in its near entirety on foot. I have always liked walking and exploring and I think that will remain constant wherever I end up.

I was naïve and optimistic, in the extreme. I was giving out benefit of the doubt like it was candy and I was Willy Wonka himself, on Halloween, no less. I’ve since learned that not everyone in the world deserves my immediate trust. There are a lot of blatant imbeciles, or gypsies, as the case may be, who are ready to take advantage of anyone at the next turn. I look over my shoulder now more than ever, even though this city seems incredibly safe.

The lesson has been cemented that people are products of their environment. Nobody smiles here, but when I read about the history and culture I begin to understand why. It’s not up to me to judge anyone; I should be more understanding of where they have come from and what they have gone through.

I started a job at which I had no clue. I was afraid to talk on the phone, I would pray for voicemails to pick up, and when I did talk to someone my voice shook and stuttered in embarrassing ways. Now I’m willing to talk to anyone about anything any where in the world. And I’m getting pretty good at it. Good enough in fact that I left the job I came here for and started my own company.

I couldn’t ask people for anything. I was afraid to speak out for fear of sounding stupid. Then I got hungry and needed to order food. It was one small failure after another but I made progress and tried to keep smiling throughout. One day I went to McDonalds and managed to complete the whole transaction in one smooth exchange of Slovak phrases. Victory. At last.

I’m not sure what the next 8 months will hold. Probably more of the same risk taking. My role can only be to calculate the odds as best as possible. I’m pumped about work. I want it to succeed like any other project I’ve undertaken. I reject the notion of failure and embrace the challenge. Victory earned is the only kind worthy of celebration, if you ask me. I’ve thought a lot about priorities and hopefully I can continue to apply that knowledge. I want to do more traveling in 2010, although I’ve been lucky enough to explore Hungary, Czech Republic, Poland and Austria already. I am remiss I haven’t yet made it to the Eastern mystery that is Ukraine. I'm excited for Western Europe, the Balkans and Turkey.

At the end of it all, no matter what happens, and regardless of what has already happened, this whole stupid foray into Eastern Europe has been an incredible learning experience. For that reason I’m happy to say that I would be stupid to
regret any of it. I’m glad I wasn’t sitting at home doing the same thing. I really am giving it a shot, so to speak.

In the immediate future, which I'm currently enamored with, I excitedly await the amenities of the developed world, not to mention my family and friends, both of which are amazing and whom I struggle on the daily, to get by without.

Getting It Done

I'm still not blogging as regularly as I'd like to be. In fact this post has marinated as a draft a few times, before I have now finally managed to hammer it out. It's like this: I have all this great prose, bottled up in my brain. Unlucky for you, loyal reader, I don't have the hours in the day to put it down on this here web-log. I've been busy as hell, working ungodly hours, to the neglect of my sleep cycle and my diet. It's all in the interest of what my boy "Bloggeries" calls passive income. I think that makes it worth it. I'm enjoying myself too, which is important and makes the whole experience much more bearable.

Anywho, I've finally thrown on some Vince Guaraldi Trio and plunked myself down with a glass (read: bottle) of cheap Merlot (all liquor is cheap here, by the way) and taken some time to reflect on the last few months. On one hand, I feel like I've climbed a mountain; on the other, I think I just arrived at base camp of a much bigger mountain.

Allow me to elaborate, please. We started to plot our business, Kakushin Group, almost two months ago. As I mentioned, it was conceived over pints of draught on the back of bar room napkins. The very conception of the project could be subject of another post, so I’ll table it for now. Suffice it to say, the upside looked very promising, while the downside looked negligible. In short, I had very little to lose. I think that a good risk to reward ratio is something that should underscore every decision I make, be it a stock trade or a night at the bar. “I don’t believe in luck, I believe in odds.” Said Seth Davis at the beginning of Boiler Room.

So we set out, hell bent on starting a business, all the while not really having an idea how to start a business, -let alone in Slovakia. Yet, for reasons of which I’m unaware, I maintained an optimistic demeanor and an irrational belief that we could accomplish anything. I think this has also been paramount to making it as far as we have. I don’t know how to make a website, produce a business information event, or deal with the slow as molasses Slovak bureaucracy. Somehow, 8 short weeks later, we have all of the above and are on our way to new challenges, specifically selling, something I do know how to do.

The point I’m trying to distill here is this, we could have gawked, worried and procrastinated at the formidable task ahead of us. Instead, we thought about what we needed to do and found ways to do it. There have been innumerable twists along the path we've bushwhacked so far, we’ve had to come up with some unorthodox solutions but up to this point, we’ve managed to get shit done.

And so, it is the base camp analogy that rings true. It has been excruciatingly difficult, lugging our shit this far, throwing up our metaphorical tents and canvassing for the best available Sherpas. But it has already been extremely rewarding. And tomorrow, we push for the summit, where the majestic view will no doubt be worth the ascent.



On a completely unrelated note:

I’m going home in a week for the holidays. Words cannot describe my excitement. I have nightmares that I’m going to catch swine flu and be barred from boarding the aircraft.

Next I will post an 8 month recap of my life in Slovakia and try to throw some darts at the wall to pin down where I think it might be going – at which point I encourage you to stay tuned reading along, to see how I’ll inevitably be hilariously wrong. I've always sucked at darts.

A Note About Dress

Ahhh to be free. Once again able to blog about whatever I please.

I went out last night, for the first time in a month. I understand once again the notion of tolerance. Or my lack thereof. I awoke after a very brief sleep feeling quite well, to my surprise and delight. I drank some coffee, put on sweat pants and waded through the streets to the office, taking my usual route. I hate sitting all day so I try to walk to and from work, as the weather has made it quite bearable. It also gives me time to think.

I was struck by insight not far from my office. Although I had showered and brushed my teeth, I was still clad in extra baggy gray sweatpants and my hair fairly matted. Aside from the odd glare of contempt, I went largely unnoticed on my way to the office, ducking and weaving between giant concrete blocks. I try to catch peoples eyes, but today was, generally speaking, one unmet glance after another.

During the week, I try to look sharp. I think I catch more glances. I think I go more noticed. Maybe people are daydreaming on the weekend, window shopping for watches with egregious price tags. Not interested in a rogue passerby. I'm willing to say though that the more raggedy said passerby looks, the more likely he or she is to get glossed over.

Be conspicuous.

Off to press my pants and shine my shoes.

Casual Fridays are bullshit, if you ask me.

The Kakushin Story

Trusted readers, I've been lying to you for the last 8 weeks. This has been a long time coming.

The beginning:

It was about two months ago, a warm October afternoon: I flicked my wrist, releasing the metaphorical white towel into the air, before it flopped down on the canvas floor. My job wasn't going the direction I had hoped. I had learned a lot and it was a positive experience, overall. I just wanted something else. I closed the door on my days slanging pharmaceutical knowledge solutions. I didn't know exactly what I was doing, but it felt right.

I hadn't given much thought to what I wanted to do. It's just not my style, I guess. I needed some time to think. I had a few options on the table but they all proved far from what the truth would end up being. Looking back, I had jumped on an Air France flight to Slovakia, right after graduating, with much less rational thought than the average person might have thought necessary. And yet, no regrets. But 6 months later, I needed a change. I've always had something of a short attention span. I'm easily amused, but easily distracted.

Unemployment was awesome, for the first week. My phone broke and I started getting really bored, really fast. Raoul, the guy who was previously my direct boss had also recently quit. He sent me an e-mail. We met up when he was in town. A few beers later, pipe dreams were beginning to materialize on bar room napkins. One thing led to another, and we sort of ran with an idea. Having nothing on my plate, I immersed myself in the project, half-believing it wasn't actually happening.

Two months later, and with the full support of my fantastic family, I find myself in my own office with two of the people I most enjoyed working with - we recruited another former colleague who ended up quitting shortly after we did. The whole thing was serendipitous in the extreme and I am enthusiastic about the upcoming challenges and what is destined to be the tireless pursuit of success. I'm not sure where it will take me but I know if I do my best to make it a success I will be making forward progress.

We reached a tipping point today. Our first program is coming together and our website is up and running. Now that I have something to show for my time. I'm finally willing to say...

BEHOLD: KAKUSHIN GROUP

Normal City?

The original idea from this post comes from a comment by a friend of mine, @tburts. It was one of those sound bites that blindsides you in any idle conversation you might be having. It catches you off guard. It sticks, like gum on your left converse. I remember the conversation, there's a photo of it burned into my brain. This blog then is that metaphorical stick with which I'll release myself of this stage 5 clinger.

So it was like this, posted up, the corner in site, when Tyler blurted it out. Why does Kingston make so much noise about wanting to be a normal city. There was no such thing as a normal city, our good friend declared.

I immediately liked what I heard. It was refreshing in a few ways. Just having finished orchestrating the entirety of Orientation week, including some verbose and harsh disputes with Kingston city council members I had been feeling fairly disenchanted with the town in which we resided, which I had come to call home. More importantly though, the brief audio-blurb resonated with me at a frequency that seemed fundamentally more sound.

When I think about it, it makes sense. Ottawa is different from Toronto, for reasons that are glaringly obvious to me (make up you're own local example. I'm sure if you are even only a little bit objective you'll see it to be true, I don't feel like explaining). And both Ontario cities are far diverged from Montreal, let alone Vancouver. The evolutions of our cities and their populations are complex, and not easily remedied with a few teaspoons of your favourite elixir. Moving to Bratislava has further atrophied the proposed notion that Kingston's desire to be neatly arranged in the "normal city" category is completely asinine. If Kingston considers itself atypical then I honestly don't know what to call this post communist hilarity I now occupy. Life's all about the angles.

Allow me to be bold and extrapolate for my boy TBURTS. In thinking about his statement I have more or less reached that a city is like any other organism. It's made up of it's composite parts, for better or for worse. Sure, the city has activities analogous to eating well and exercising, but it's still a product of it's past and a reflection of it's composite parts. It might be matured, young or somewhere in between. Whether or not that's what Tyler had in mind remains untold, he probably thought of something more clever.

Also, can you believe this guy??

Also, there's a stranger sleeping on my couch...More to come on that

Ode to the Frizz

Well friends, the low frequency blogging continues. All the blogs I'm following have slowed down their rate of posting as well. Everyones busy with other stuff. I'm just lazy, I guess. Draped on my couch like the thick fog that has embraced my apartment building for the last few days.

I have thought a lot about Miss Frizzle in the last 36 hours. I don't know why. It must have something to do with that motto of hers: Make mistakes, take chances, get messy!

As I approach my departure date, I get excited about going home. But I also reflect more and more on my time here.

While I haven't been surfing on a sine wave, or riding a river of lava, I can't help but feel like I've been on something of a wild ride.

A few things have effected me pretty blatantly, not to say that I'm a new person or anything crazy. I'll give you an example. That should help. I ask a lot more questions now. This trip has been good for my curiosity. I am always trying to figure out my world. Without this renewed sense of wonder I would have taken much longer to get acclimatized to my new spot.

Getting sales experience has also helped. I'm harder to lie to now. I'll pinpoint your objection, with a volley of questions so thick that if they were arrows they would blot out the midday sun, prominently held high in the hand of the sky. I would have also lit the arrows on fire and soaked the grounds under your soles with petrol. Needless to say, mess with me and you'll find yourself in a pickle. A HOT pickle, no less. I can still be coy and charming as hell though. I would say that I'm maybe even more charming. Travel has given me some great talking points. Everyone should travel.

The thing about learning first hand, is that you're learning by doing. Which means you probably suck at the start. That's uncomfortable. But it's this lack of comfort, the one where your stomach is turning and your head spinning as you falter in embarrassing ways, that is so important. I've learned a lot from it. My head spins in a lot less situations now.

For that, I thank Miss Frizzle's school of hands-on.

A Stark Realization

First of all, let me apologize for the lack of blogging. This unemployment gig has left me with so much time to fill, and no sense of urgency to fuel me to do anything meaningful.

Today I realized that I would be home in a little more than 3 weeks. Pretty crazy. How things have changed.

I spent a good part of today remembering my arrival, not even 6 short months ago. For example, right now I just got back from the grocery store, I remember when I didn't know where that was. I've since learned the whereabouts of many supermarkets, not to mention the exact locations of all of my most preferred foodstuffs. I can have small conversations with the cashiers.

I took the tram today. Actually, I took a few trams today. Come to think of it, I actually played the tramschedule like a jazz flute on the way to and from work. I caught a number of short routes, rather than waiting like a chump for the easiest tram to show up.

At the start, everything was serious. I was on edge. My senses were in overdrive, trying to intercept every stimuli no matter how small, while the switchboard that is my brain, scrambled like it was being operated by a gorilla on roller-skates. Moreover,I couldn't interact with anyone or rely on myself to get anywhere. Except for that one time on the first night when I was pissed drunk and got lost, then conveyed to a taxi driver I lived by the (now torn down) hockey arena by making slapshot motions and shouting player names.

I remember was listening to this. Seems a lot funnier now.

I take a lot of stuff for granted. I should work on that. Entitlement is a dangerous thing.

...

I am not taking going home for granted. Far too excited.