Sylvia's Journal

We thought we ended March with spring, a teaser only. We started April with a Nor’easter that lasted 2 days and dumped a couple of inches of snow. The tender greens of the garlic, crocuses and other spring bulbs disappeared for a few days. And then it was spring again, chasing the snow quickly.

All of this week was devoted to the end of MSH’s leadership, management and governance project (LMG). I have seen the entire arc of it: the first project that started in 1985, and this one, the last, the ends in September. All of them aimed to do something about the way health services are managed, led and how institutions are governed.

We have learned a lot over those years (as have I). We tried to showcase some of that learning in ways that match our philosophy of ‘creating catalytic learning experience.’ Some people who attended the event, and did not know what that meant, got a taste of what we meant. Others already knew. I suspect we were mostly preaching to the choir.

The days of preparation at our Washington office and the event itself felt like a family reunion. There were old friends, colleagues from decades ago and folks who, like me, have been working alongside each other, sometimes collaborating and sometimes competing for the same pot of money.

Axel had come along to get a taste of what my work looks and feels like from a participant perspective.  My role was to be the MC, introducing speakers, but I also had a chance to slide in some messages that are close to my heart.

Just before leaving Boston I had discovered some forgotten beanie babies that I had used in training decades ago. They came in handy: there was the fox who jumps over obstacles to get what he or she needs in the here and now; there was the beaver who builds strong foundations on which we anchor our aspirations; there was the owl who holds the old wisdom and sees things no one else sees and there was the dolphin which is about joy, energy and spirit. Everything we showcased or talked about had something of these animal archetypes inside it.

And while we spent the day in a basement conference room of the Ronald Reagan Building in the heart of DC, inclement weather moved overhead.It raked havoc with people’s hairdo and apparently also the roof of a school. It also messed up travel plans: the next day we spent a good part of the day at the airport trying to get home. At one point we simply gave up our seats to wait even longer – we were more flexible than others. American Airlines gave us each a 500 dollar credit for our noble geste.

Over dumplings and noodles we counted our blessings, my friend A and I, after visiting the Henryk Ross exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, memory unearthed. On view are more than two hundred photographs, buried and then unearthed after many years, of life in the second largest Jewish ghetto in German-occupied Europe. They were unauthorized pictures of daily life in the ghetto from 1940-1945. They are views of cruelty, suffering and resilience, familiar no doubt to Syrian refugees but unfathomable to us living in peace and comfort.

I was struck by how many people smiled when it seems there was little to smile about. There are the last glimpses of people marching towards their deaths. Only a few hundred survived from the hundreds of thousands that were forcefully resettled there and then deported. That the photographer and his wife survived is a wonder. A videotaped interview with them at the start of the exhibit left me in awe about the courage they took so that we now can remember. If you live near Boston, make sure you see it.

Spring is always a time of new beginnings, even if the weather keeps teasing us with temperatures going up and then down again. I have always liked how the Persian calendar starts the new year on March 21, with its Naw Roz  (New Day) celebrations. It passed us by this year, except for the many Naw Roz wishes exchanged on Facebook.

At MSH it is springtime as well. We have a new CEO. The first encounters have been wonderful and hope giving, in sync with the ice melting in our yard and the sprouting of garlic.

We are gearing up for our yearly Easter celebration at our house to remember the good things that happened around Easter.  With my travel schedule these celebrations are not always easy to schedule so we take Easter broadly, anytime between Easter celebrations from the west and from the east. They happen to fall on the same date this time, and it looks as if I am around. Invitations are still in the conceptual stage.

My travel schedule has been light and so we have taken advantage of my presence here by seeing our kids and grandkids as often as we can.  Sita and kids picked me up from the airport when I returned from Holland on the 13^th, given me at least a few hours of quality time with Faro and Saffi. We learned that Faro has been accepted in the Chinese charter school in Hadley; Sita and Jim are deliberating whether to claim his spot or not. I already have a fantasy of going to a Chinese restaurant and Faro ordering for us in Chinese!

Last weekend we visited Tessa and Steve. We saw the hole in the roof made by the tree that tipped over their bedroom. No one was hurt but the damage is considerable. We also saw the new puppy that brings the number of dogs in their house to three. The older dogs were not very happy with the intruder, a bit like I remember Faro responding to his new sister, hoping she would go away.

We visited the Currier museum in Manchester (NH) and its Deep Cuts Exhibit showing what is possible with paper and scissors. Many pieces were statements about something not right in the world.  One can say a lot with a piece of paper and a pair of scissors. It does require that one has a lot of time on one’s hands, patience, sharp embroidery scissors, a steady hand and excellent eyesight. Axel thought some of these pieces were veering into OCD.

Afterwards we strolled along the main street of Manchester, given the puppy its first experience of a city. There was much to see and smell. A dance competition let out and the street was overtaken by various pods of young girls with their hair tightly pulled up into a bun, heavily made up and wearing their various team jackets. The combination of these girls and the puppy slowed down our progress considerably. Tessa patiently explained to each new group the brand (Australian shepherd and something else) and name of the puppy (Hazelnut), triggering tons of oohs and aahs and requests to pet.

I had asked for a nice room with a view, which is what I got but not in the way I had expected. The view was an enormous tree, close to my window. At first I was annoyed because it was actually blocking my view, until I noticed movement. On closer look the tree was full of bats. These are, I believe, the fruit bats. They used to live all over Plateau in the tall trees that used to stand everywhere. They would leave their guano on the cars of all the people that work here, until someone in the government thought it was best to cut the trees. But clearly this tree was spared and some of the homeless bats moved in.

It is like a nightmare to peek between the leaves and see fat bodies wriggling while hanging down. They wriggle to get as much shade as possible. I see large bats the size of kittens and their offspring, the size of hamsters and mice.

And then, as if by order from above, they swarm, even though it is not yet dark, about an hour before sunset. They rise from the tree, circle it, thousands of them, looking like a swarm of birds, and then, as quickly as they appear they are gone, God knows where, to catch their daily meal.

I remember watching these bats from the terrace of the Grand Hotel in Niamey decades ago. I realized this was a ritual that was eons old. No hacking of trees could stop it. I am sure people have even used chemicals. They are a sturdy lot and their offspring will go on living in trees and hunting at night, long after we are gone.

And so, I had been given after all, a room with a view.

The rhythm of my trips abroad has slowed down a bit, but new assignments are on the horizon, at least till the end of June when two major MSH projects will end activities and go in close-down mode.

I am on my way to Cote d’Ivoire. I checked with Faro to see if he still remembered that Abidjan was the capital – he had forgotten but then remembered. Last week he saw something about Lemurs and when he heard that they live in Madagascar he flawlessly pronounced its capital Antananarivo, according to Sita. I don’t think many 4 year olds (or 40 year olds for that matter) in the US would know this.

We have had some wonderfully mild weather which melted the two feet of snow and coaxed small green sprouts out of the ground. But winter is not over in Massachusetts. We have learned not to get our hopes up.

The mild weather invited everyone to go outdoors and walk. But walking these days is, once again, not all that easy. I returned to the local PT outfit and am being treated by a young man whose father grew up in Zutphen (NL) – he speaks Dutch the way Sita does. I am also taking medicine to treat the neuropathy in my left foot; it makes me sleepy and has reduced my energy a bit.

Before heading out to the airport we took a long walk on a local estate with sweeping views over the ocean and uneven terrain. Although I enjoyed the walk it crippled me, and it required a rest stop at a local tea house before I could continue a brief visit to the Cape Ann museum. It is a discouraging development.

The Air France lounge makes the 6 hour wait for my next flight quite pleasant. Aside from the good food and coffee, there is the free 20 minute Clarins face/massage treatment. I was able to get one of the last two spots and enjoyed the treatment. Sometimes it is heavy on the product demo side, sometimes it is more of a facial massage, like today. It was delicious. I feel asleep and then was gently brought back to earth by a soft tap on my shouldere. As an extra bonus I was given a cream to keep my skin from aging and instructions about all the other products I should buy.

I settled back at my headquarter desk, always cranked up high (we can crank it up and down to work either standing or sitting – I stand all the time). We are awaiting the announcement of a new CEO, with anxious anticipation. For me the anticipation is linked to whether I will stay or retire.

I am now in the thick of two courses; one, a paying one, to refine my coaching skills. It is laced with references to recent neuroscience discoveries. The other, prompted by all the references to the brain, a free course on coursera on Understanding the brain: the neurobiology of everyday life. Although the course doesn’t start until this week I am already halfway through. I watched the lesson on hearing with Axel, to better understand his hearing loss. I also learned about my own near vision loss in the module on vision. I am enjoying the course so much that even after a full day at work and two hours of commuting, I can’t wait to log on again. I am learning a ton and hope this will, incidentally, also contribute to my brain’s health.

We had managed to plan our trip to be bookended by two snowstorms. We had missed driving all the way from home in the first storm, at the start of our brief vacation since we stayed over at Sita’s; but on the day of our departure we traveled through the eye of the storm on empty highways, barely plowed and sanded. A trip that should have taken 3 hours, took us 6 hours. Some people thought we were insane. It is amazing how the vision of sitting by the fire in our own living room during a nor’easter provoked us to undertake this trip.

Before we left we were able to visit MassMOCA which was probably the highlight of our trip. The theme was ‘wonder,’ and we did wander the halls in wonderment: Nick Pave’s 1000s of mobiles dangling and twirling from the ceiling, Sol LeWitt’s murals, and more. That alone would have been worth the trip out west, though not necessarily during snowstorms. Hubris, Axel called it, this challenging of the elements.