I am here ->

The marathon is almost over… only a few more days of regional meetings and I’ll have a short break to catch my breath. You know things are nutty when you wake-up on Saturday morning looking forward to the NEXT weekend. The big crest of the week’s activities finished yesterday and last night all the regional visitors headed off to their favourite haunts for dinner. We had some HR visitors in town who we took to dinner at a Japanese restaurant on the far side of the island. Four of us in total: two of us based in Hong Kong (one from Canada, one from US and a long time friend); one HR Manager from Japan who has lived half his life in Japan and the US; the final HR Manager from China who spent several years in the US, too. A real global mix.

Typically, these evenings are a great cross-cultural and bonding session as we talk about life in the Asia Pacific region, how long we’ve all been where we are, where else we’ve been and where we might be going. We had a lot of laughs that kept me going despite my fatigue and a few thought provoking moments, too.

I have been in Hong Kong over nine years. HK is a fluid, transitory place. While here, Tess and I have had many friends come and go, we’ve even had friends leave and return. We are often asked, "how long will you stay in ?" We say to ourselves and anyone who asks "three to four more years." This answer also affects all decisions we make. Even when buying large items we stop to ask ourselves (1) do we want to keep this item for a lifetime and (2) if yes, will it fit into a shipping container. Another example: for a long time we have wanted to buy real estate, but the temporary nature of our existence in Hong Kong always has us deliberating on the right purchase.

When the Terrific Trio was born all bets were off. For six months we had no idea what direction their health might take. Had there been serious, long term issues (which could still surface, too) we probably would have promptly returned to Canada where a wider variety of long term preemie therapies is available. As life slowly returned to normal and the triplets’ health became more certain and predictable, the "three to four more years" time frame returned.

Having lived outside of the "three to four more years" paradigm for six to twelve months, returning to it made us very aware how temporary we always considered our lives in Hong Kong. Where is home? For Sebastian and the Terrific Trio, home is Hong Kong. They know no other place as home. (Sebastian is even developing a British accent!) Tess and I started thinking that maybe we have been fooling ourselves. Perhaps Hong Kong IS home and we should make that commitment now. Doing so open the doors to decisiveness, long term plans with family, investment plans and real estate purchases. We often encounter people who have lived in HK for twenty years by accident! We don’t want to be those people – if we end up being in Hong Kong for twenty years or more, it should be a choice not an accident.

Being alone in Hong Kong while Tess and the team are back in Canada amplifies the introspection that swirls around these issues. Everyday MoZiLLa (aka Tess’ mom and Seb/Terrific Trio’s gorgeous gran) sends photos of Tess and the Team having loads of fun in Canada. (Okay, the Terrific Trio are not having fun when crying for their evening bottles, but it is hilarious to watch and the photographers are clearly having fun at the Terrific Trio’s expense!) These photos are deeply appreciated but also stir-up all sorts of questions… where is home?

Flashback to dinner with the HR Team. Lots of interesting discussion when finally I discovered Google has a new tool called Google Earth. During the breaks of the management meetings some of the folks were playing with the tool. Google Earth is actually really neat – a collection of satellite images that allow you to pinpoint places all over the planet. The tool is based on satellite photos, not actual live cameras on live satellites. (I pulled up HK at night to find it covered in sunshine according to Google Earth.) In the heavily populated areas there is very high resolution. In the less populated areas the images are not as good… therefore, I never got a decent picture of the Fintry dock or lighthouse but I could clearly see the area. I pulled up several pictures of Pokfulam, Hong Kong and sent them back for Tess and Sebastian to see… just so they wouldn’t forget what home looks like. I marked on the photo common places where Sebastian likes to go.

Then I went hunting for other places and what an out of this world exercise. First I went to have a look at "home" in Toronto where I grew-up. There home sat with my dad’s burgundy Subaru in the front yard. Sitting there at 5000 feet above the earth I saw my old schools, the trails where I used to run, the side streets where I road my bike, the hills where I used to toboggan. I mentally drove down the Don Valley Parkway to Toronto Island to find the Royal Canadian Yacht Club. Based on photos, (# of boats still on dry dock at the yacht club) I concluded the satellite images were pulled around late April/early May. Images of my being at the RCYC at those times of year flashed through my head. I found my sisters houses and a few other places that hold fond memories. Weird.

Then I drove up to the Farm in Omemee, Ontario – a fuzzy area where I could only see the pond – but for sure, that was our pond! I poked through Peterborough, then with a flick of a button spent a few minutes pouring over Vancouver before returning to Hong Kong.

If I had the energy I would have wondered out onto the balcony for a thought provoking cigar but I was just too tired by that point. As I shut down the satellites I couldn’t help think of the implications. I lay in bed contemplating all the places I had been to in my life that I could now go back to see… to have a second look… cities I have visited, trails I have run through, lighthouses I have sailed by. Daily the world seems large, but from a satellite a hundred miles away it seems small. If I travelled a billion miles away, home would be Earth. In such a case I’d probably say to people, "I want to retire on Earth." If people asked me, "where do you want to die?" I’d probably say "Earth."

But I am not a billion miles away, and chances are, never will be. Instead I am here, in Hong Kong, asking myself the same questions. The answers don’t come easily but on the other hand, does it really matter?

The SOS Car

Okay, who asked about the Porsche?

Many people hold incorrect assumptions about Hong Kong.  One of those assumptions is that cars are expensive in Hong Kong . They aren’t. New cars are expensive… VERY expensive. But used cars are inexpensive. There are several reasons for this. First, practical: after seven years a car needs to have an annual road worthiness test and certification. Most people don’t like this hassle and expense (even though it costs almost nothing.) Second, prestige: many often argue that  Hong Kong is about money, glamour, looking good. A used car doesn’t look so good. Third, superstition: local culture suggests that a used car may have had many owners. Therefore, one cannot be certain the car has good feng shui. What if the car had been in an accident – that would be bad luck for all subsequent owners – or a bad luck car in the first place! Therefore the costs of cars in Hong Kong drops off quickly as the car gets older.

As an example, I have owned three cars in  Hong Kong . The second was a gorgeous 1989 7-Series BMW that cost less than US$ 2,000. I spent another US$ 2 K in mechanical repairs and the car was an absolute pleasure to drive. We LOVED it. The BMW was sold to an Australian car dealer for US$ 2 K, where it had an Australia resale value of US$ 8 K. After shipping and some minor fix-ups the dealer probably made a tidy profit. The third car was, and still is an Espace Renault that cost US$ 2,200. (Yes, we splurged!) I spent next to nothing on mechanical repairs and this rather large workhorse serves us well. (See pics in the June blogs.)

The first car was a June 1985 Porsche 944. (The date is important for enthusiasts – the first person to give me the correct reason why wins a prize!) Tess and I first saw this car in November 2000. I was planning a job change for which a car made sense. We traveled out to Sai Kung in the New Territories for a test drive. It was gold at the time and Tess, who spent most of the trip back to  Hong Kong Island (about an hour) telling me why I should not buy this car, truly disliked it. Eventually, after convincing Tess it was a steal and a once in a lifetime opportunity, we agreed to buy it. Big mistake… always listen to your wife… the car only cost US$ 5 K but one year later I had spent twice that on repairs and never mind the aggravation of a constantly breaking down car. Tess called the Porsche the SOS car, which stood for “Sack of Sh*t.” Tess never really understood why I bought the car since we were planning a family at the time. 944’s and baby car seats don’t mix that well!

Despite the 944’s notoriety for breaking down, it was extraordinary to drive and very sexy to look at. Big fat wheels kept the 944 welded to the road. It was impossible to make this vehicle squeal – it took tight corners effortlessly and quietly. At modest speeds that tires made a very an atypical 944 humming sound against the road. The throaty engine was like music. The Porsche 944 was a head rush and that is probably what caused me to keep this black lemon for so long (Yes, I also had it painted.)  or to buy it in the first place.

If you know the 944 – or most any Porsche for that matter except for the Cayenne – it rides very low to the ground. When Tess woke me up on November 30 to tell me she was in labour the first thought through my mind was, “Oh my gosh, can I drive?” The night before we’d been out celebrating an award I had received and yours truly might have failed the 0.08 test. But that was several hours earlier so I concluded I was fine. After collecting our things we cautiously walked down to the Porsche. Tess took one look at it and said, “I can’t sit in that.” The car was too low to the ground for Tess to realistically get in and out of the vehicle or to even sit comfortably inside.

“We can take a taxi if you prefer,” I replied.

“No,” Tess responded, “I will kneel in the front seat.”

And so, we drove to the hospital as Tess knelt in the front passenger seat, having contractions every three minutes. It was a gorgeous, sunny November morning in Hong Kong. I prayed silently that the SOS Car would not breakdown. Fortunately we made it safely to the Matilda Hospital where Sebastian was born a few hours later.

The ride to the hospital was the beginning of life for Sebastian and end of the road for the Porsche. I found a buyer a few weeks later and sold the car for half of the original purchase price – because used cars are cheap in  Hong Kong ! The BMW entered the scene and I somewhat redeemed myself with a car that was a pleasure to drive and very reliable. And from then on I listened to Tess.

The Eagle Has Landed…

… back in Hong Kong. Wow, what a buzz.

Exercise: How to get present to your Suppressed Joy and/or Grief and or Both? Answer: After nine days at Fintry (see pic at left) leave your four kids and wonderful wife at a quaint Canadian airport on a gorgeous sunny Sunday morning, knowing you won’t see them for seven weeks and that two of those kids will probably walk for the first time during that time. Subsequently drive with Dad for five hours through the most beautiful scenery Canada probably has to offer. Drop Dad off at Tsawwassen Ferry, a location that holds deep, significant meaning from previous, life defining era. Scoot off to spouse’s dear grandmother who lost her husband of 50+ years a few short months ago but manages to still be an extraordinary hostess and cook great-son-in-law superb dinner complete with local  ale refreshments. Collapse with exhaustion, sleep ten hours, enjoy breakfast with same wonderful gran. Rush off to shop, shop, shop. FAIL to find (argh!) what wonderful wife has on shopping list. See Porsche 944  in mint condition. Have flashback to day Sebastian born. Arrive back at Gran’s to pack. Present huge bouquet of flowers. Gran threatens, don’t ever do this again. Self says out loud, "I will always do this again." Both giggle. Leave for airport. Mind once again focuses on Asia… Hong Kong… work… write 45+ e-mails on plane, sent upon landing via Blackberry. Receive 60+ in return within a few minutes of landing. Think to self, "WOOF… how long can I maintain this pace?"

Vietnam: Letting Go of the Past

I wrote the following after Tess & I visited Danang, Vietnam in April 2000.

The 25th anniversary of the United States’ withdrawal from Vietnam was upon us. Judging by the media coverage this commemoration received, the Vietnam War was not forgotten. By coincidence Tess and I found ourselves in Vietnam leading up to this occasion. Two years previous, Tess participated in a press trip that included a short stay at a gorgeous resort on a beach in Danang, Vietnam. This beach is commonly referred to as China Beach, located on the Gulf of Tonkin. During the Vietnam War, China Beach was almost the nucleus of US military activities. Today it is a long stretch of sandy white beach, with one five star resort: the Furama Resort, Danang. At the north end of the beach rise several jungle-shrouded mountains. It was from these mountains that the Vietcong watched every move of the US military. You can see a picture of the Furama Resort on the front cover of People Magazine commemorating the The 25th Anniversary.

Tess and I discussed the war several times during our five-day stay. We agreed that the nation dragging around the past of the Vietnam War was the United States, not Vietnam. For most of her life, Vietnam has been at war. This is a people who have grown accustomed to war being a regular and accepted part of life. The end of the Vietnam War marked the beginning of now thirty plus years of conflict free life. Quite possibly, the longest period of peace that Vietnam has experienced for some time. And since then, the Vietnamese government has slowly begun to open up the economy. It has a way to go, but many who visit Vietnam frequently, or even live there, say that the pace of change in Vietnam operates at Internet speed with or without the Internet. After continuing to read about The Vietnam War, and living in Hong Kong for the time I have, I have had the chance to ask many Asians (including Vietnamese) about The Vietnam War. (The Vietnamese call it The American War.) The response always contains the following theme: "You have to let go of the past and move on…"

The Vietnamese are extremely friendly, with an intense desire to better themselves and help others. Vietnam boasts one of the highest literacy rates in Asia, if not the highest. Even the number one motivator for mothers giving their children up for adoption is not to find a better life for the child, but a better education, if you can imagine that.

The Vietnam War has fascinated me for years and years. I have read easily more than a hundred books ranging from historical to personal accounts. Two nights before we left for our Easter weekend in Danang I sat up for three hours reading through a fascinating web site dedicated to the Vietnam War. Naturally I followed several links soon finding myself reading the nauseating detail of United States government interviews from the search for MIA (Missing In Action.) Therefore, Tess and I were quite amazed to experience what we saw that week while transiting through the Hanoi International Airport en route to Hong Kong.

On several occasions while dealing with the insanity of Hanoi’s airport, we glanced outside to see a massive United States Air Force transport plane (C-17) sitting on the tarmac. There were no 747’s at the airport that we could see, but had there been, I am sure they would have been dwarfed by this huge, gray, obese machine.

The rear ramp of the machine sat extended onto the tarmac like the lazy tongue of a dragon, panting in the hot sun. Nothing seemed to be happening, except for numerous civilians and military personnel running around. Each time I looked at the beast, I half expected a fully restored ceremonial Jeep to ride out of the dragon’s gaping mouth. As our transit bus drove us to our Cathay Pacific plane, the beast’s neighbour, we noticed six sets of trestles set-up behind the military plane. We boarded our Cathay flight and waited to depart.

Roughly ten minutes before we left, I glanced out our window to find the scene behind the beast transformed into a military ceremony. Sitting on each set of trestles was a silver coffin. Four of them were already draped in fresh, new American flags. The other two were being draped as we watched. Four soldiers, each wearing a different style uniform and looking as though they each represented one arm of the United States military, cared for the coffins. Several more senior looking military personnel looked on, saluting the coffins as they were draped. With the last two coffins completed, the four soldiers than proceeded to effortlessly carry the decorated coffins into the belly of the plane one at a time.

On the far side of this occasion stood a small crowd of onlookers, some military, but mostly civilians with a lot of cameras. What was more interesting, though, was the crowd watching the proceedings from our side. "Who were these people," I thought to myself. There were eight lines of roughly six people in each line. Two of the lines clearly consisted of military personnel in full military dress. Their movements were consistent with the salutes of senior personnel saluting fallen comrades. To the left were six more perfectly formed lines of civilians.

What we were watching was six fallen soldiers on their way home. Their departures were perhaps 25, 30 or maybe even 40 years late. Certainly, their status during those long years was MIA, and there on the anniversary of The Vietnam War, these MIAs were no longer MIA. They were going home. Standing there, in the blistering heat, were a handful of friends and family representing each one of these soldiers. One line of family and friends for each soldier. We learned after the fact that Senator John McCain was one of the people dressed in civvies. In the last week the media has carried numerous pictures of this event. IN someof those media stories, if you look closely, you will see a picture of a Cathay Pacific plane in the background… Tess and I were on that plane.

I sat on CX 743 and watched in awe. After so many years of personal fascination and curiosity towards The Vietnam War, it was an extraordinary privilege to share this moment that provoked all types of introspective thoughts. Suddenly our plane nudged forward. We pulled away as the last coffin disappeared into the dragon’s mouth. – April 2000

Macau Recruiting Issues

Tantalizing Tess left today for her grandfather’s funeral. Sombre moods. I am sitting at our computer sipping a glass of white wine. It’s about 11 PM on Friday night. I am taking a moment to catch my breathe before Saturday morning when my work week partly spills over into my weekend.

Work was intense this week. As a result, Tess and I didn’t get to spend much time together. My company had our quarterly Asia Pacific management meetings (QBR) Monday/Tuesday, a management training program on Wednesday/Thursday and HR meetings on Friday morning. With dinner meetings every night, everything was pressurized. But I do have to say it was a highly productive week that ended with a bang.

Several weeks ago when the jury was out on exactly what my schedule for this week I received a call from the Asia Pacific CEO of one of our recruiting vendors. (Let’s call them ABC.) This particular company is one of the largest global search and recruiting firms by revenues and their account manager for my company provides good service. The CEO invited me to speak at their regional conference in Macau on the afternoon of Friday, April 15. I looked at my schedule, “Ugh,” I thought, “that is going to be unrealistic but wow I would love to talk to them.” Of the dozens of recruiting relationships we juggle regionally this firm is one of three or four that go above and beyond to help us think “outside of the box.” To address one hundred ABC consultants at one time would be a great opportunity.

In parallel with this invitation were several other invitations to speak at other conferences that stemming that from a keynote address I gave at the Employee Relocation Council’s Asia Pacific Conference in Hong Kong. One of those invitations was for a Warsaw conference. That invitation I debated in my mind long and hard. Finally and regrettably I declined. Truly a difficult decision since I love interacting with European HR professionals and the ERC always delivers excellent conferences. However, with the conference smack in the middle of a workweek the trip would suck a lot of precious work time. With the following week targeted for when Tess and I would be back with my family in Canada, Warsaw was unworkable. Finally I chose not to go and informed Tess. Walking into our bedroom one evening I said, “I’ve decided Warsaw won’t work.”

Ever supportive Tantalizing Tess replied, “I know that’s a hard decision but I trust your judgement.” We talked for a few minutes about the conference and then I concluded with, “…and ABC invited me to speak in Macau on April 15.”

“Really? Are you going to?” Tess asked.

“I don’t see how I can. That week is the QBR, management training, EVERYONE is in Hong Kong and we have an HR off site on the Friday morning. It’s possible I could do it on the Friday afternoon but I would never make it in time with the ferry schedule,” I explained.

Then Terrific Tess came up with a BRILLIANT idea… “Ask them to fly you over,” she replied.

Macau, a former Portuguese colony that returned to China a few years after Hong Kong’s return to China, is about a sixty-minute ferry ride from Hong Kong. By the time one adds up checking in for the ferry, waiting for the ferry, the ferry ride, Immigration at both ends of the trip, you end up easily dealing with a two to three hour journey. But flying there… now that is fast. Not only is the flight only sixteen minutes long but passengers also get Fast Track treatment at Immigration. Flying there on the helicopter can easily knock two hours off the trip. I fired off an e-mail to the CEO. He replied, “We’ll do it.”

I colleague of mine, Paul, (also known as Mr. E and referenced by Tantalizing Terrific Tess a few times in her blog) accompanied me and at 3:00 PM the two of us boarded our helicopter. This was my third helicopter trip (the first two were in Monte Carlo when I spoke at another conference in 2003) and the aircraft is much more exciting than an airplane. Unfortunately the weather was overcast and visibility not so good but I managed to video parts of the flight for Sebastian to see on the TV.

We had an excellent discussion with ABC, concluding with a lot of enthusiasm. We had reached a point of creating some ground breaking and innovative recruiting solutions for both parties. The ABC team headed off to an awards dinner that we’d been invited too but I was keen to return home quickly. With a few minutes to spare Paul and I ventured into a casino next to the conference venue. I dumped 100 HK$ 2 coins into the slot machines and just by the skin of my teeth managed to hit a small jackpot of HK$ 294 before we had to leave. Instead of betting more I listened to Tess in the back of my head and cashed in. (Paul was also encouraging me to “wrap this up quickly” to avoid missing our flight.) We dashed off to the HeliPort.

Unlike the flight to Macau, full to capacity with twelve passengers, the flight back to Hong Kong only had four passengers. Paul and I sat in a row of four seats. I sat on the starboard side to video the Hong Kong approach. The blades whirred faster, the engine growled deeply, and we lifted off the platform. Macau, ablaze with lights, drifted away from us as the pilot lined up Hong Kong in his instruments. Across the water we buzzed at 150 knots into total darkness except for the occasional fishing boat far below us, and the dim glow of the cockpit lights. And that’s when the oh-so-surreal sensation set in, accompanied by the musical score of whirring blades above us.

After the flight, Paul shared how the view of the Macau night-lights as we lifted off the helipad reminded him of a lifelong goal to get his pilot’s license. For me the flight summoned a reflective side. I speculated in my head that after nine years in Hong Kong, flying to Macau at least once in a helicopter would be a probability not a possibility. But still, the flight harkened me back to my peculiar trip to Monaco, and once again swirled the fog inside my head as I continued to reconcile the events of the last fourteen months. When I first came to Asia, everything was new. But as each year passes the paintings on the wall blend into the background to become a little less noticeable until a new and atypical event like today dusts them off. Returning home with Tess away was unusual. Walking into the nursery to see four kids sleeping was even more bizarre. Carys rustled in her bed. I was tempted to lift her up for a few minutes. Instead I quietly hovered then pulled myself away.