Archive for June, 2009



Openings

The news came through yesterday that the job in Kabul is mine for the taking. It feels good to be out of limbo and no longer having to say, ‘if I am offered the job.’ A little bit of limbo remains because I have not received approval for the trip next week, yet the travel agent sent me an itinerary and a question whether to confirm. Axel should be on that ticket but was not. A few wrinkles still need to be ironed out.

Yesterday was a quiet day, wedged in between the board’s work and the beginning of the conference. A bunch of us turned into tourists and signed up for a guided tour around the city of Charleston in the morning and an afternoon tour to the Magnolia Plantation on the banks of the Ashley River, some 10 miles upstream from the city.

Our group included a group a giggly group of (female) school teachers from California in their forties who could, collectively, answer all the questions from the tour guide and wrote down the answers they had missed in little notebooks. A quiet young woman turned out to be a newly minted captain in the US navy, docked in Charleston for the night; a young couple with a toddler and a newborn who fitted in her dad’s palm and never gave a peep during the entire day. By the end of the tour we were no longer a bunch of unrelated individuals but had bonded and talked between and across rows of seats.

As we entered the bus the guide asked each of us where we came from (Philly, Boston) and I could see him mentally adjust his teaching plan. He was going to be gentle with us and show how good the South had been (with their slaves), how scared and vulnerable ordinary people had been and what a shame that 32 of the plantations along the river had been burned and sacked, depriving us of this part of America’s heritage.

The guide talked fast and southern making it more like a foreign language to me. I was exhausted by the time we left the city and wiped out by the time we were delivered back at our dorms. But it had been a great day and, in contrast to my short visit last October, I had a much better feel for the place. Charleston’s main source of income is from people like us. The tourist business runs like a well-oiled machine with thousands of people playing their well rehearsed roles. It was a flawless performance.

It gets hot here and humid. Just like in the kinds of places I visit in Africa and Asia. It’s a little taxing for people not used to it or who are carrying excess bodyweight around. I can see them thinking about weight loss programs. We haven’t seen too many locals with extra weight. Mostly skinny boys and girls dressed to the nines. This is particularly amazing given the fried food they eat here.

Our conference kicked off with an extraordinary session run by Jim Clawson from UVA’s Darden School of Business. Part theatre, part teaching, he affirmed all the principles that we use in our leadership program and kicked at problem-driven leadership work and achievement-focused goal setting with some wonderful and compelling examples while creating a space for all of us in the audience to make connections with others. It was a flawless kick-off for a conference about good teaching and good learning.

This morning I woke up very early – it was still dark outside. My mind was full of thoughts about the impending move to Afghanistan and everything that needs to be handed over before September. I went out for a walk in the cool and empty city, looking for coffee and anxious to clear my mind. I got both tasks accomplished and am now studying the program through an Afghan lens. What sessions and which teachers will help me when I am over there?

Off duty

We finished our last day of Board meetings yesterday at exactly 5:30 PM after another full day of meetings in our plush board room. We ended with a high energy exercise about everything that we knew needed attention and repair. That is now for others to fix and attend to, as we outgoing board members hand over our batons to the newly elected ones.

Part of the reward for doing board work is that you get to eat out in interesting restaurants a lot and have long and leisurely dinners for three nights in a row. We celebrated our accomplishments and the transitions in Virginia’s Kitchen, a lovely restaurant in an old house; we had the upstairs room which looked like a museum, all to ourselves; this time there was no music to compete with.

Over dinner people took turns to speak about what Magid and I had brought to the board. It was incredibly affirming and at times surprising to hear people talk about what I, as an outsider to this academic society, an interloper in my view, had brought to the table. I am, they say here, from the real world, with the emphasis on ‘real.’

I spoke about my introduction to this society now nearly 20 years ago and what a journey it had been and how incredible to have been elected to the Board. Still, despite the fact that I know many people well, it remains an alien culture and I will never speak its language like a native.

The menus in restaurants here are so very different from those in the north. Yesterday’s dishes were variations on fried food encircled by grits and collard greens or sausage and seasfood in a rich soup or sauce. For Axel the combination required an emergency visit to CVS to buy antacids. Lucky for me CVS also sells wine, beer and ice cream – attractive items to put in our oversized and entirely empty refrigerator as we are getting ready for the conference to begin later today.

Axel has learned much about the southern perspective on the civil war. People are still upset and the view is quite different from the one we get up north. Today I am partially off duty: we have to refine out design for the session we are doing on Friday about mind mapping. But most of today we can play untill about 5 PM when the conference starts with much shrieking and hugging and kissing as we see dear friends we have missed for an entire year.

The limbo continues about Afghanistan and I check my mail several times a day in the hope of finally knowing, one way or the other, so I can make plans about the future. But the Afghanistan team has not made its decision yet. And because of that no one is travelling to Kabul on Monday, not Axel, not me. The bad news is that this was about the only window for such a trip; the good news is that I now have a chance to use up some more vacation days that will go ‘poof’ in 2 weeks, weed the garden and eat our first harvest of lettuce.

Feelings

Today is my last day on the Board of OBTS. At the end of the day, Magid and I will be let go and leave the work and the many tasks to those who were elected after us or who were appointed and took on another term. It is a dedicated group of people; strong personalities with opinions and a tremendous amount of experience as teachers and faculty members.

To this day, despite my long exposure to this group (I have been coming to these annual conferences for 17 years) the world of academe remains an alien culture. There are expressions and abbreviations that people use all the time that I cannot seem to keep straight. I have asked but forgot; they are meaningless for me. Issues of tenure, research versus teaching and grading are irrelevant to me but stand center stage in this culture.

I brought everyone their party bags, a tradition I inherited from my predecessor and embellished a little bit by not only putting in things that increase the trade deficit with China but also food for thought, candy and things to doodle with. The brightly colored party bags -primary colors only – stand out against the muted tones of the very corporate board room. Outside in the hall is a huge portrait of the center’s namesake, a local entrepreneur. He is painted running up stairs through a phalanx of clapping people, with a twinkle in his eyes. He looks very young for having made enough money to finance this building. Maybe that was part of the dream. Through this portrait he has secured eternal youth for himself and a place to meet and study for the generations to follow.

Axel in the meantime is on a historical tour and visits Fort Sumter while we do board business. He is tourist among many others in the muggy hot air while I freeze to death in the overcooled board room. We meet up for cocktails with the Doctoral Institute students and faculty who are just getting started with their pre-conference event.

Dinner is in a fancy restaurant, up carpeted stairs with a Steve Wonder look-alike playing the piano for the downstairs guests. We get the piped music. I am shocked at the prices on the menu but relax when I see a steak tartar appetizer that can function as a main course. It’s more than a main course and Axel finishes it off. And I have once again confirmed that I am weird: she wants to live in Afghanistan and eats raw meat. Everyone else around me had the more civilized variety of meat that is cooked, filet mignon that, most claim, is the best they ever had.

Axel and I don’t sit at the same table and so we haven’t had a chance to catch up on what he has done. Instead he talks with other guys his age about the feelings triggered by our possible move east – at least I think that’s what he was doing. Imagine that, men talking about feelings! It could have been a group of women together. This is what’s so nice about this bunch of people who have been so welcoming to both of us over the years.

Southern clutter

A straight flight down from Boston brought us to the South. This is a very different place. All the street names are reminders of the love/hate relationship with Britain. Liberty Street and George (or King) Street are side by side. It’s a very different place from New England: the architecture, the palm trees and the way women are dressed. There is no grunge look here. The southern belles we pass in the evening wear elegant dresses, long and short, with strapless tops if they can. And then there is the drawl; lovely.

We converged from all sides of the US to this place for our 1st board meeting of the year that precedes the annual conference. There are about 20 of us, always some new to the board and some going off, like me. With this last meeting I will have completed my three-year term.

A few others have brought spouses who joined us for this first informal event of our agenda – good food, catching up with news and ‘checking in.’ During the brief pauses of the phenomenal guitar players who augmented the restaurant’s ambiance we took turn talking about what was new, good or bad, since we last saw each other in October. I got to break the news about my wish to move to Afghanistan, which few people understand. For some it is like saying, I have decided to go to the moon. But others get it; that this is a huge and interesting professional challenge.

After dinner we returned to our dormitory. The conference organizers have put us in the nice dorms. I suspect we are in the graduate student dormitory: suites with three rooms, a kitchen, bathroom and small sitting area. We managed to fill up the few horizontal surfaces and the tiny space with our stuff in no time – even though we brought very little stuff with us. It never ceases to amaze me quick we can clutter up a place, any place.misc 014

All the suites are located around an open air courtyard that has a picnic table and a sofa and armchairs in it. They are made to look like the real things, but out of colorful plastic – like you would expect in a modern art museum. It rains here a lot and the dark puddles of standing water on the sofa and chair where the cushions would have been attest to this fact. It’s a small design flaw that makes them useless after weeks of rain.misc 015

Our dorm looks out over the backside of buildings; a parking place with a bunch of containers which, we discovered, are emptied at about 3 AM by large trucks that make much noise for a long time.

Full plate

Yesterday started with a one-hour long interview over the phone with colleagues in Kabul. They asked questions about intent and then contrasted those with the realities on the ground. It was good I knew these realities because otherwise it would have been pretty difficult to respond to their queries (“given that x and y, how would you go about z?”). Much of the issues raised are familiar to me in other settings as well and are typical of our third party work (getting paid by one to benefit another) where it is not unusual to find beneficiaries bristle at the conditions and strings attached to the aid given to them.

After that a quick visit to the nurse practitioner to talk about the hot flashes that now drench me several times a day and interrupt my sleep big time. The breast lumps, diagnosed so far as trauma-related, kept her from prescribing hormone replacement therapy. Instead we will experiment with a combination of herbal supplements (evening primrose oil and black cohosh) and a low dose anti-depressant to deal with the sleeping. When I called our local health food store to inquire about the brands (I was to get the European, not the American brands) I was greeted with ‘oh, hot flashes huh?’ It must be big business now with millions of baby boom women consumed by these flashes. Now my daily pill requirements are starting to look like those of very old people; pill boxes filled with a variety of pills in all sorts of shapes and colors!

Nuha arrived for a last goodbye before she flies home to Riyadh next week. It was her fourth and last visit to Lobster Cove which she had not seen in full spring bloom yet. Her last visit was when there was snow on the ground. Now she has seen Lobster Cove in every season. Her brother Youssouf joined us for a lunch en plein air. misc 142

He brought his brand new camera which was put to good use right away. In Gloucester we visited the Fishermen’s Memorial which stands on a boulevard that is lined with hundreds of American flags. When, years from now, they will show these pictures to their friends, it will not be difficult to guess in which country they were taken.

Nuha and her brother are both outdoors enthusiasts and we talked about the Appalachian Mountain Club and its great lodges and trails in the White Mountains. They might try to squeeze in a hike in the White Mountains before Nuha flies home.

Since I still don’t know whether Axel and I will get on a plane to Kabul a week from Monday (and me from there to Addis at the end of the month) I used the rest of the afternoon to get myself organized for all these trips, the first one starting today to Charleston for our annual Organization Behavior Teaching Conference and the board meeting that precedes it.

If I think about how much I will be away this summer and how badly the garden already needs attention (weeding, fertilizer) I get a little overwhelmed and wished I could use up my vacation days that will go ‘poof’ on June 30th. But I am programmed otherwise.

Joy and laughter

I went through whole sagas during my dreams last night – full stories with beginnings and endings, good people, bad people, much movement, laughter, anxiety and tropical fruit. That’s all I remember, and the fact that I was in places far from home. You’d think there was travel afoot. There is. We are off to Charleston tomorrow.

But yesterday was still a workday. My project for the day travelled to me. It was one of Alison’s teams that needed some help in its formative years to create an atmosphere in which everyone could contribute their best. It was called a retreat but turned out to be more of an advance.

I am not sure they had not realized that the teambuilding started the moment they got into a taxi to North Station. Travelling together is a great ice breaker if there is any ice to break. You discover things about each other that office life does not reveal or that has been obscured by irritation and mutual frustration.

Travelling together also presents a very clear and unambiguous common task: how to get from A to B. You have to do the same things that are required in the office, but seem less urgent there, such a being in constant communication. Moreover, the landscape changes all the time so that even old-timers and more senior folks find themselves in new situations that require some level of humility. And finally, not acting or complacency can make you miss your train and thus not end up where you wanted to get to.

I had a feeling that the tiny, three-member team had already bonded more on this trip north than during their last four month together by the time I greeted them on the platform of North Beverly.

We worked loosely through an agenda I had prepared after individual interviews. It included learning about styles, getting focused, digging below symptoms, addressing sticky issues and making commitments to each other.

Joyful collaborative effort was the magic word. When I dropped them off at the train they were off on two journeys at the same time: back to Cambridge and onwards to their newly articulated vision about superb work, great impact and communication at full throttle. I knew that the final part of the team building retreat/advance would take place during the train ride back. Alison, over to you!

All through the day I wore multiple hats as I picked them up at the train station, gave them a tour of our ‘estate,’ made them lunch, coffee, tea, cut up fruit, and finally opened the bottle of wine so we could toast to a bright future. I dropped them off at the train station after office hours, when the weekend had started. I was caterer, taxi driver designer, facilitator, psychologist, leadership developer, waitress and tour guide. I loved it!

We ended the day at Axel’s cousins Nancy and Ed with a fabulous dinner in great company. We played cards until I was the only one left in the game. We ended the evening watching the hysterically funny John Pinette talk about food and dieting (I say, nay, nay). Snippets from his show can be seen in various YouTube videos. Axel had tears streaming down his face – I haven’t laughed that much and that loud with others in ages.

Now back to earth – it’s a cold and grey day. I am drinking tea while waiting for the phone to ring. It will be a call from Kabul. On the phone will be two members of the project’s senior management team. One of them is an Afghan doctor who is the boss. He holds our immediate future in his hands.

Dreams and words

I woke up from a very vivid dream about meeting up with friends in a Buddhist temple somewhere in Pakistan or Afghanistan. The dream was full of images that are associated with ordinary life as well as adventurers.

For ordinary life there was, among other things, a kitchen overrun by dirty dishes and ants. The ants marched in full platoon formation as the Romans do in comic books. They were carrying loot with them.

The adventurers consisted of hippies, pilgrims and a family on World War I motor bikes, mom and dad on their own, with baby strapped to the back and little Johnny, hardly 6 on his own bike that was way too large. He managed with utmost concentration while his proud parents smiled at their clever progeny.

The friends who I found in the temple were my colleague Chantelle who lives in Pakistan for real and with whom I am about to get in the phone – and Tina, the wife of MSH’s president, who has lived in Pakistan at some point in time for real as well. Both wore scarves covering their head. Needless to say, Afghanistan is on my mind a lot these days.

I drove in to work yesterday listening to Obama addressing the world from Cairo. I heard his dream, which is one I share. Dreams are conveyed by words and thus words are important. People can say what they want about action. I prefer a thousand times words spoken from the heart before action over words spoken after action. In the latter case such words are almost always about regret or, if there is no heart involved, to justify the action.

With Obama’s words in my head and heart I had my second interview for the position in Afghanistan with a colleague in Nicaragua who is one of 5 people I am to speak with. The remaining three are all based in Kabul and have all known about my intention to apply for the job. I have worked closely with each of them during my last visit there. They know what I can do. But there is a corporate recruitment process that has to be adhered to and it is possible that they are interested in other candidates. Scheduling the remaining interviews is becoming increasingly difficult. As a result, I don’t think our planned trip to Kabul on June 15 will happen.

Teams

The trip I hoped to make to Kabul with Axel, in just over a week, seems more and more unlikely and the limbo continues. I try not to get too upset about this, although I am disappointed. I have stopped to look too far ahead (since there is nothing to see) and instead am focusing on the work of now. It makes me forget the disappointment as it connects me to exciting projects and wonderful people around the world.

I received the most encouraging news from my team in Cambodia which has managed to get government health facilities to make special efforts to reach out to youth, with a focus on reproductive health. The 26 or so government officials who are the first to participate in the leadership program were rather skeptical at first. Others were also skeptical about them and had their doubts that anything would change. The health facility managers set what seemed fairly un-ambitious goals for their teams – but it seems they have been surprising everyone, including themselves, and surpassed these goals.

The senior leadership work in Ghana that appeared to be stuck for the longest time in the initial planning phase has come unstuck. Now it requires the alignment of schedules and a dates. And that’s where I bump into my uncertain future.

Another piece of work like it, concerning senior professionals as well, is in the planning stages for Central America. I am helping my colleague Diane design a process for getting senior leaders focused, moving and more confident in their ability to function well as a team and fulfill their oversight role for major investments in health programs. She will do the actual facilitation since I am not a fluent Spanish speaker, but we fantasize about doing it together. Given all the scheduling challenges, this is highly unlikely.

Last night we attended the annual meeting of the Manchester Historical Society. The average age of its members is probably about 65. Although on the young side of the median, with enough grey hair, we blend in nicely. There is always wine and an impressive buffet of finger food before we start with business. This helps with the socializing although I always manage to introduce myself to someone with a mouth full.

The business of the Society is conducted in no time adhering to the letter rather than the spirit of parliamentary procedures. This makes the business meeting a breeze. The last piece of business is always a motion to ratify any errors and omissions of the executive board, which we gladly did.

The highlight of the annual meeting is always a speaker with something interesting to tell us about the place we live. This year it was a gentleman who had written a book about Cape Ann. He told us many great stories, accompanied by slides, of the famous people who resided here, their houses, their houseguests and friends, and their writings about and paintings of Manchester, Essex, Rockport or Gloucester.

Limbo

Everything is covered with a thin layer of pollen. We are in the midst of allergy season. My reaction to this is, I believe, intense tiredness; so much that I can’t keep my eyes open much beyond 8:30 PM. An allergic reaction to spring is a new experience for me. Now I can be more sympathetic to Axel who has been suffering for years.

I interrupted my workday yesterday with a visit to the ankle doctor. He had requested a CAT scan before I saw him. The scan did not provide any more meaningful information, nor did the doctor or his assistant. I think that the only thing my visit did was to help reduce payments for the hospital’s expensive machinery or, if it was already paid for, increase its profits.

That visit was definitely not a good use of our expensive health care system and insurance monies. When the doctor suggested that I go for other tests, or even come back in a year, I declined. The ankle is what it is and no miracle will fix it – the doctor said so himself. So why bother. But I am relieved that surgery was not suggested as an option.

There is no movement on the travel front except that everyone on this side of the Atlantic is now committed to the dates for our trip to Ethiopia. Since the phones were down or not working on the other side, in Addis, we don’t have any indication that ducks are lined up over there. No more news on Afghanistan either, except that, thanks to the US postal service tracking system, I know that the Afghan embassy in DC received Axel’s visa application. Limbo thus continues.

Scenarios a-plenty

The various future scenarios produce an active dream life but there is not much I can remember when I wake up except the ‘active’ part. These scenarios aren’t just about where in the world I might be, from mid-June on but also about which body parts will be in what state of repair.

There are various scenarios about where I will be in a few weeks and months. The only things I know for sure are that this week I am at work, mostly in Cambridge, every day and that next week I will be in Charleston, South Carolina. What happens after that is murky at best.

We sent Axel’s passport off to the embassy of Afghanistan in DC for a visa, just in case I am offered the job there. If that scenario were to unfold I would need to decide quickly whether to accept or decline. This requires that Axel consents to the move. Going to Kabul first to see for himself will help him decide whether it is a move that has potential for him too. If I don’t get the offer things will be simple: we all stay home. But current reality is one in which no decisions have been made and we are in limbo; no particular scenario activated just yet.

Late June, early July a trip to Ethiopia is on the books, though not confirmed yet. Buying a ticket for this requires confirmation of the Ethiopian dates and the Kabul trip. Everyone is trying. At least I own two passports, allowing me to get two visas at the same time.

A few things are given and unalterable at this point. In late July I am teaching at the BU School of Public Health and my shoulder operation is scheduled for the first week of August. August is also election month in Afghanistan and all travel is banned. Somewhere in there is also a family reunion, a visit from my brother and nephew and the finest summer days at Lobster Cove.

Future scenarios for my physical health include at least one that seems likely: my right arm in a sling through most of August and part of September. I fantasize about having my left carpal tunnel symptoms alleviated by the same operation that did wonders on the right side – but there are no windows for that to happen. And this morning I will find out what’s up with the right ankle from the super orthopede at B&W.


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