Sylvia's Journal

Archive Page 93

Celebrations

Published July 3, 2013 Home Leave a Comment

This is Tessa’s week. She turned 28 yesterday which we celebrated with the family – Faro was being watched by two of his many grandparents at our house, allowing Sita and Jim to join us. A friend had flown in all the way from LA for the occasion and for her first taste of the East Coast. After unpacking a bag of presents, mostly kitchen and cocktail making stuff, we walked to a local restaurant and had a feast of a dinner at 224 Boston Street. Tessa had reserved us seats on the patio surrounded by trumpet vines and other lush summer greenery.

The lobster traps went in yesterday, with the help of friends. It is now one year after Axel’s rotator cuff operation and we realize that hauling in lobster traps may not be advised quite yet. The same friends who put the traps in will come back on Thursday to hail them up – we keep our fingers crossed for an abundant harvest. They would be the first lobsters of the year. We have a grocery back up plan, just in case the lobsters were grazing elsewhere.

Faro is with us the whole week but so far I haven’t seen much of him. On Monday we drove into town for a potluck to say goodbye to a dear friend and longtime colleague who is moving west. We overlapped for more than a year in Afghanistan which makes for many good stories. Yesterday I left before anyone woke up and came home long after Faro’s (and my) bedtime and today I left again at daybreak. I hope we can play tonight and have some hours together. It is the first time I see him walking. The joy on his face, when he realizes that he can now reach more kitchen drawers with interesting stuff in them, is priceless.

He is learning about ‘No, you can’t have that!’ and things being taken away. His forehead wrinkles into a V and he doesn’t like it. It is still charming and quite cute to watch him express these new emotions but I know it won’t be charming for long. Luckily, he is mostly smiles.

He is having his first sea experience. Sita took him into the water, wearing his tiny crocs. He now has a life preserver as well so he can go into the boat. No swimming quite yet, but the beach is endlessly fascinating with lots of stuff to explore, still mostly with his mouth. Sita is learning to be a mom on the beach. It is a lot of work, the sun screen, the watchful eye – but seeing him explore this new world makes it all worth it; I can’t wait to be part of that. And then there is the small town 4th of July parade and the fireworks, he has no idea what’s coming.

Luscious green home

Published June 29, 2013 On the road 1 Comment

Before leaving Jo’burg and after my workshop obligations were met I was asked to do some coaching of an individual and a team. I take every opportunity to practice my newly developing skills, and each practice is pretty humbling.

After lunch I returned to the hotel, participated in a webinar, packed my bags and had an early dinner with a dear friend and colleague, who is the one who got me out of my funk over a year ago. He gave me a wonderful assignment that started me on a track upwards to where I am now. Our conversation was interrupted by the airport van showing up at the appointed time. It was time to go home.

The flights back from Jo’burg to Amsterdam felt endless. A fitful sleep shortened the time somewhat. In Amsterdam I had only 50 minutes to change planes, arriving on one side of the terminal and leaving from the far end, my luck. I had put on my orthopedic boot, which now has become a standard piece of hand luggage, making the hurried walk a little easier. But there was no time to buy cheese and licorice and, as I found out 8 hours later, no time to get my suitcase onto the flight to Boston either.

The 45 minute wait in Boston for a suitcase that wasn’t going to come was the last straw – after I had so quickly navigated through immigration with my fast Global Entry pass using the kiosk system. It allowed me to bypass the long lines of holiday makers, campers and expats entering the US pouring out of jumbos from Paris, Frankfurt, London and Amsterdam.

Back home I saw the transformation from spring to summer with everything lusciously green from days of rain. Axel showed me the grounds, proudly. He is after all the grounds keeper and estate manager. The garden drew me in like a magnet, needing some weeding badly. Soon I was on my knees pulling up weeds, harvesting some early potatoes, leftovers from last year, giant beets, and broccoli. This morning we will continue, starting with Swiss chard for a breakfast omelet, then more weeding and tying up the peas and the beans.

We ate our garden-fresh veggies, checked in with the girls, watched season five episode four from Madmen and then I tumbled into bed. I slept for 10 hours and wrote one children’s book and some poems in my deep sleep. But when I woke up I barely remembered my creative acts, only that the book was about a neon colored mouse and an owl.

Indicators

Published June 25, 2013 On the road 2 Comments
Tags: South Africa

The workshop I am attending is finishing tomorrow. I am getting to know my Monitoring & Evaluation (M&E) colleagues from Honduras, Peru, Nigeria, Kenya, Lesotho, South Africa and headquarters. They are struggling with the very difficult question of ‘how do you know whether organizational development and/or leadership & governance interventions have been effective.’ The M&E team at headquarters has to make pronouncements about the efforts in many countries, rolled up to single indicators at a high level. Our funders demand it – which makes sense – the US taxpayer (Congress) wants to know what difference the tax dollars made. But the behavior changes that turn non leaders into leaders cannot be brought about with a switch, or within project times; or, in ways that are predictable, A produces B produces C.

At an individual or organizational level, I can ask, “what do you want?” and “how would you know what you want has been achieved?” For me that is enough to determine whether the intervention(s) made a difference. But for a project that has 100s of people working on several continents, this micro view is too complex to define and too expensive to track.

I do sit in on the end-of-day reviews of the facilitation team and the revamping of each new day as an observer, but they are in charge. I have other responsibilities that are slowly filling in Thursday, a day I realized only recently was un-programmed and thus free; but no longer so. I will have another chance to practice my coaching skills and work with one of the Pretoria teams that may benefit from some reflection time.

When I get back my schedule has opened again – it was filled with two assignments that would have kept me busy through much of the Fall. But the trip to Pakistan is probably off for now due to visa delays and another has fallen through because I didn’t have any Global Fund credentials. I may have gotten my summer back after all. I know some people who will be happy about this.

A rest in between

Published June 24, 2013 On the road Leave a Comment
Tags: South Africa, Uganda

The global meeting is now behind me, and so is Uganda. It is a strange sensation to know that, after nearly 9 months of planning, this big task is now completed. We said our goodbyes after a most festive closing dinner and talent show.

The talent show surpassed my expectations. My efforts to rope in people simply by putting them on the program worked. Everyone rose to the challenge, as confidence rose during the meeting and the energy level went up. I saw how high and positive energy makes people more willing to take risks.

We had dance demos (Salsa, Ethiopian, Afghan, Ukrainian, shimmy), magic tricks, we had skits poking fun at ourselves, and, I believe, the first MSH project I know of in 26 years that has both a rap and an anthem. The latter was an adaptation of Gloria Estefan’s Reach, focused on medicines – meds within reach, sung beautifully by one of our new staff members, a young woman from Mozambique with help from some other great voices; and then everyone got into the act.

Sprinkled between the performances were paper plate awards. We had one for best eater, PowerPoint with the fewest words, most energetic participant in anything, best reporter, best photographer, best hat maker, most portable trophy and more. I received the ‘best herder of cats’ award. The paper plates were beautifully decorated by the chair and only member of the awards committee. We all had a good laugh and then danced into the evening.

It had been a moving last day, with the realization by many that the technical work of pharmaceutical management is incomplete without the self-reflection and self-awareness that have to produce the behaviors that make ownership and buy-in by local counterparts possible.

Saturday morning I joined many colleagues from Southern Africa. We left at 4 AM from the hotel to catch the 7:30 AM flight to Jo’burg. Four hours later we split into ever smaller groups: one went to Lesotho, another to Swaziland, a third to Mozambique, a fourth to Angola, a fifth to Namibia and a few of us by car to Pretoria.

I was dropped off at Katie and Josh for a braai with the participants of my new workshop, the one that starts tomorrow. But my mind was frazzled from not enough sleep and I did not retain any names. In the evening we went out to a wonderful restaurant (Kream) where we had ordered a series of exquisite starters that left me too full for the main dish and unable to even consider a dessert. I had steak tartare, crocodile Carpaccio, saffron scallops and more delicacies, accompanied by a wonderful wine of which I could only drink two small glasses before my eyes started to close spontaneously.

Pretoria winter weather is wonderful: blue skies, dry, clear air, cool at night and in the morning and evening and pleasantly warm during the day. Today Katie and Josh picked me up for a 90 minute Thai massage and pedicure, followed by a cappuccino in one of the many malls. The rest of the afternoon was for catching up on tasks that had been patiently waiting in my in box, and some writing.

And now onward to a workshop in which I have no organizing responsibilities – I am there as a participant, to listen and learn about how evaluators handle the challenges of measuring success in leadership and organizational development.

It’s about time

Published June 20, 2013 On the road 1 Comment
Tags: Uganda

We are entering day 4 of the 5 day global meeting of my pharmaceutical management colleagues. The format of spending much time in small group work is new to many – the energy is high, mine and theirs. We are tackling challenges as they temporarily block us from our vision but mostly the path is clear. I am having great fun, trying out new things, improvising, and reconfirming that this is the work I love to do.

In the meantime the coaching work is continuing. This morning I got up at 3:30 to follow a teleclass that is done from the west coast, afternoon time. It was about coaching people on the issue of time. Time is coming up a lot in the meeting and so it was, indeed, perfect timing.

I am trying to practice my coaching skills, becoming more and more aware of my errors: asking closed questions, suggesting solutions. This awareness has taken the sting out of making mistakes – something I have struggled with for a long time.

Today’s meeting is all about planning, the logic and use of planning, the review of planning processes. I have, over the years, sat in countless meetings with staff trying to figure out how to do this right. I have yet to see a group that does it well. When I put my coaching hat on I can see why planning is so difficult; when I take it off and have, myself, to comply with someone’s planning process I get caught up in the negative energy that so often accompanies the annual planning ritual. It’s the difference between ‘have to’ and ‘want to.’

I am trying to rope people in to perform on our end of meeting celebration. There are some surprises in people stepping forward with a poem, a monologue or a song, and much reluctance among most others. I am coaxing a few groups, like the Afghans and the Ethiopians, to participate in the talent show. I am not sure I am going to be successful. Our early morning yoga group is going to put up a demo which we learned, called the flow of life.

Nearing showtime

Published June 15, 2013 On the road Leave a Comment
Tags: Uganda

About 24 hours after I pulled the door shut in Manchester I landed in Entebbe with 8 colleagues who had flown in from DC and joined me in Amsterdam. One of them is Ugandan, living in DC. You could tell he was from here by looking at the amount of baggage he carried – loads of gifts (or may be orders) for the family. He didn’t join us in the bus that took us on the 1 hour ride to Kampala. I imagine it was a happy reunion even though it was the middle of the night.

The Serena Hotel is, I am told, the best in Uganda. I certainly felt like I was gently placed in the lap of luxury, worth the long plane ride. Every room has a balcony and all the amenities you can imagine, even an electronic scale to register my pre-conference weight to be checked again next Friday.

When I stepped out on the balcony to take in the cool Kampala night air a drama was staged at the entrance of a neighboring hotel. Well-dressed men in suits who had had too much to drink stumbled out of the main entrance with a few women in tight clothes who were fending them off with high-pitched voices. I couldn’t tell whether I was watching a playful end of a party or the abuse of women that would require an intervention. But then they moved en masse out of sight and things calmed down, at least that is what I hoped, especially for the women.

With all that excitement and being beyond tired, it was not until 1:30 in the morning that I closed my eyes – such a shame to fall asleep in such a beautiful place.

Today we dotted the ‘I’s and crossed the ‘t’s by checking out the rooms, the supplies, and the set-up. The conference rooms are in a separate building that is clearly a desired place for weddings. I saw at least three brides and grooms, well-heeled members of the wedding parties and countless cute little girls dressed up in starched white frou-frou dresses. The main hall was turned into a shiny and glimmering backdrop for one of these weddings – an extravaganza that would have won out in a competition with Afghan wedding halls.

For lunch we walked over to the local shopping center, risking life and limb crossing various roads teeming with motorcycles and fast moving traffic. I felt like an old lady as I hobbled across the uneven ground and should have worn my orthopedic boot.

The mall, like all malls around the world, had a food court. It is a little different from our food courts: the moment you walk in employees of a row of fast food places welcome you, smiling and menu in hand. They seat you, put place mats on the table and provide you with all their menus. We had a choice of Indian, Chinese and Korean. The Persian place had moved or gone out of business.

After you select from one of the menus and place your order you wait for the food to be brought to your table. Only after you have eaten do you pay the bill. It’s ‘medium food’ – faster than slow food and slower than fast food.

After lunch we met with the public address system manager of the hotel who sketched out the PA arrangements on a flip chart. Then it was tea time. We had tea in the bar while it rained outside and Uganda and Angola battled each other for a place on the Africa soccer cup tournament list. Uganda apparently won by a hair. People were happy, all except the Angolans.

This afternoon I welcomed our Afghan colleagues who arrived from Dubai. They are all former colleagues of mine. I stumbled over my Dari, having forgotten the most common words. It is such a shame, considering where I was on my learning curve, just where it starts to even out and you can actually say something sensible. Maybe they’ll help me regain some of my vocabulary.

Showtime starts tomorrow at 6 PM, a little less than 24 hours away. I am about 90% prepared – missing the energy that comes from being with all the participants for the final 10%.

Getting better

Published June 14, 2013 On the road Leave a Comment

On Wednesday Axel and I drove in two cars to Mass General Hospital, doubling our parking garage fee but we had to go our separate ways afterwards. I went for a consultation with the thyroid surgeon. We have gotten into the habit of going to doctors’ appointments together – four ears are better than two and we return better informed. If I forget to ask a question Axel will ask it and vice versa. The thyroid doctor in Gloucester had suggested that taking the darn thing out was a good thing. But this doctor admitted surgery would be premature. I was relieved. The idea of having my throat cut was not very appealing. We can wait until the thyroid has become a nuisance. So we are back to one imminent surgery and that is the ankle.

And now I am at Logan airport, only my second trip this year, to take off for Amsterdam and then Kigali and then Entebbe, and then by bus to Kampala. I will arrive at the hotel in Kampala, if everything goes according to plan, about 24 hours from now.

In the meantime I practiced my coaching skills on a colleague in Rwanda. I don’t think I did very well, asking too many closed questions, providing advice, making suggestions. This coaching business is so challenging because of the habits I have formed over decades. At least I am aware of the mistakes I make, always a good first step towards learning a new skill. My client may not have noticed my mistakes but I am a critical observer.

Axel is doing the same – observing himself, noticing old patterns, reactions. It is funny how this coaching business has changed us. We are trying out new scripts with each other, tumbling back occasionally into old patterns, but aware this time.

Mistakes, first steps and shared abundance

Published June 11, 2013 Uncategorized Leave a Comment

I spent the 6th of June in Easthampton, marveling at Faro who, at one year has moved into another phase: he is walking, albeit it very hesitantly and only when he is not in a hurry. That is very sensible of course. early on Friday morning I headed partway home, to Marlborough, to attend the 2nd of our 3 required face to face trainings.

Since our first intensive training, four months ago, and countless hours of coaching, my confidence has gone up a few notches. But then, when I compare my level of proficiency to that of our coaching trainer it feels like I have light years to go. And so we move forward to the next (and last) retreat in September and another 50 hours of practice coaching!

During the weekend I had one major insight, triggered by one of the (33) coaching principles that inform our education: “There are no mistakes.” Although my brain was willing to go with that statement, my gut was not, until I understood at a more cellular level what the implication is of this principle. That understanding all by itself made the 30 hours of instruction worth it: when there are no mistakes there is no blame (of self and others) – what a liberating thought!

I returned home and the end of Sunday, with just enough daylight left to squeeze about 25 asparagus beetles, some in the act of procreating, between my fingers. But the damage is done: many shriveled up spears, prematurely ending the asparagus season that started so auspiciously. We are learning that having left the dried out stalks over the winter is partially responsible for this invasion (not a mistake but something we didn’t know any better at the time). I also harvested the radishes, all with tiny teeth marks indicating that they are (somewhat) attractive to other critters. The abundant harvest of arugula and pakchoi was mostly clean, we tolerate tiny holes in the leaves, and immediately consumed.

First first

Published June 7, 2013 Uncategorized Leave a Comment

Early on Wednesday morning my sister woke me up with the long awaited news that her grand baby Romi Aline had arrived early morning of June 5th in Amsterdam, which was also her 69th birthday; what a magnificent birthday present to receive from her daughter, who is also my niece!

Romi’s arrival has increased the number of my parents’ great grandchildren to 3, with another scheduled to arrive in 2 months. I hope they watch from someplace.

Today I took the day off to celebrate Faro’s first birthday. I was the first grandparent to watch one year old Faro. We celebrated in a local restaurant where Faro practiced his newly acquired ‘goodbye’ skills, waving his entire arm willy nilly to unsuspecting patrons especially those closer to his age.

He had his first strawberries, whipped cream, angel food cake, garlic spinach, cod (oh, no, I forgot, he is a vegetarian), and breaded eggplant . Jim said I had poop duty tomorrow but I won’t be there. I will leave at some ungodly hour to get to Marlborough, halfway back to Manchester. I will be sequestered for 3 full days in a Marriott conference room to complete retreat number 2 of my coaching program. I will miss his 1st birthday party. All the other omas and opas, one aunt, one uncle and one cousin will come out west to celebrate the day. Faro will be 1 year and 2 days by then.

Digestif

Published June 6, 2013 Uncategorized Leave a Comment

Sunday evening we started with a WorldCafe-ish introduction to the two day event organized by my pharmaceutical colleagues about medicines in Universal Health Care. Sita was hired to capture the conversation on a 16 foot knowledge wall, which she did in her usual awe-inspiring way.

Axel checked in with us at the end of each day, seeing the progress in Sita’s scribing and gauging the progress of the meeting by the level of energy in the room. He met colleagues from Ghana, Ethiopia and Bangladesh – the fact that he was Sita’s dad helped with the introductions.

The joy of working with Sita is that we get to have all our meals together. On Sunday we ate Lebanese (Kebabji), on Monday we ate at Kramer’s bookstore café and tonight we ate at a greasy airport joint, bringing to an end this intense workweek for me and an friends-and-art vacation for Axel.

On the way to the airport, while Axel was deeply engaged in conversation with the taxi driver, Sita knitted this experience together with all her other scribing events, reflecting on what she learned in others and/or missed in this one. Sita is better schooled in system dynamics by now than I am. By putting one and one and one together she is intensely aware of the messes that people have created by thinking in a certain way and is dismayed when she sees similar thinking, intended to end the messes, create more of the same. It is why Einstein said, you cannot solve a problem out of the same consciousness that created the problems in the first place. But we do.

She is seeing the cataclysmic events or trends from the last years (Katrina, Sandy, tornadoes in Oklahoma, violence in Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia, Syria, and the rise of chronic diseases, missing mussels in Lobster Cove) not as exceptions and rare and disruptive occurrences, but as the new normal. Where I am still thinking of black swans, she quoted someone present at the World Economic Forum as saying, “these are large blinking neon swans.” If we choose to ignore them we do so at our own risk and peril. Afghanistan, New Orleans, Oklahoma, Syria, the morbidly obese and the Jersey shore or far away from Lobster Cove but it could be different.

Pondering all this I flew home while listening to Ludovico Eunaudi’s Divinire and reading about Gloucester and Charles Olson. The combination of sound and word made me want to write poetry, seeing hope and possibility behind this veil of worry, concern and pessimism (“no,” says Sita, “realism”). But there is no chance of that. I was distracted by the fish, chips and tartar sauce sloshing around in my unsuspecting belly, and in thousands of other bellies. There is some digesting to be done before figuring out what to do next (and before my cholesterol check blood test tomorrow).

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