Globalisation - Love it or hate it ...?

Sometimes I rail against the ‘global society’. When I travel and find myself seeing the same stores everywhere I wonder why the British High Street is replicated in so many places. What’s happened to local flavour, individuality ...?

Of course, when we scratch the surfaces of these places we find that the local flavour is there – it just may take a bit more than the cursory glance we so often give things to find it. Stephen Fry on QI mentioned that most visitors to the Louvre go directly to the Mona Lisa, spend less than three minutes looking at it, then leave the Louvre. The cursory glance – maybe this is all that most modern tourists have time for?

When I travel I like to stay in one spot and take it in, to absorb the flavours and smells. I like to base myself in one small town and sit in cafes, watching the people go about their days, trying to understand what is making the particular place ‘tick’ – I like to scratch beneath the surface.

But I have a confession to make. There are other times when I really welcome the surfaces, the visible global brands.

On moving to Prague, I needed some furniture. I don’t want to spend a fortune on furniture. Money spent on a sofa can be better spent on so many other things in my book. So I turned to Ikea. They make it easy. They are everywhere. We’re all familiar with how the Ikea store works. In Prague there is a regular bus from the nearest metro station that takes you directly to Ikea. Of course the store is so popular it’s always crowded – in fact as I left at lunchtime, there were so many people coming there that they had to control entry at the front door. But at Ikea you know what you’re going to get and that can make it worth dealing with the crowds.

Then there’s coffee. When you’re in a new place and don’t know where the best coffee is, sometimes you’re happy to experiment and get rubbish. But when you’re feet are sore, it’s cold, you’re tired – well then, I have to say it, the pleasure I get from a double espresso in Starbucks really lifts my spirits. It’s the consistency that attracts – knowing that when I order my coffee it will be the same, good coffee I can buy in Dubai, Sydney, London or just about anywhere else in the world.

When I rant and rave about globalisation, when I complain that the main street in each major city replicates every other main street in every other major city, take it with a grain of salt. Like everyone else I like to grab a dose of the familiar to help me through the challenges of a new city, a new country, new people, new work, new language ... I admit it. I like to be able to get a Starbucks espresso. Yet I need to remember I didn’t make these changes to my life for familiarity. I made them so I could experience different things ... so from now on, only one Starbucks a week.

It’s time to find those great, local coffee places ...

More on my move ...

Arrival!

My flight landed early. The way through passport control was fast and efficient. My luggage was amongst some of the first to be unloaded. I breezed through customs.

A wonderful beginning.

I phoned Martin, my real estate agent, who had offered to come and pick me up and drive me to the apartment. He arrived promptly, helped with my luggage and was, as ever, charming and full of useful information about my new home.

After signing everything that needed to be signed and learning how to use the multiple locks, I was alone in my new, very empty home. My top priority was something to sleep on, and something to sleep under. So I harnessed all my courage and found my way to the Metro station, and on to a train with a 24 hour ticket (for some reason I always find train systems a little scary and am amazed each time I try a new one at how easily they can be navigated).

So to Pankrác station – just one stop further out of town. A yoga mat, a duvet, and I was set for the night. I have to say, that after two nights of this uncomfortable arrangement, my white cloud of an IKEA mattress is beckoning.

Of course, I’m still trying to get the hang of the heating controls – but I haven’t really needed the heating. My kitchen cupboards are bare. But I have found the Tesco Express just down the road. My biggest challenge now is finding my way to and from the station. First time was in daylight. No problem. But in the dark (just after 5 pm – short days here now!) everything looked different and I walked and retraced my steps twice before finding my way. I am optimistic that from now on I shouldn’t have any problems.

Do it now ...

After years of corporate life, in both the public and private sectors, I am moving on to the wonderful land of ‘making it on my own’. Well, I hope it will be ‘making it on my own’ and not ‘unemployed and homeless’.

Four more working days at the office and then a couple of weeks of getting things sorted and I will be changing countries. No doing things by halves for me this time. This time I’m going to give my own business a shot. I’ve decided life is just too short not to spend it doing things that you love. The big question now, of course, is will anyone pay me to do the things I love?

At the moment though I’m not loving it so much, but I know that there is a reward ahead that makes all the sorting, packing, unpacking, repacking, disposing of, deciding to dispose of, reclaiming, etc. worthwhile. I hope so anyway. Because this process is draining. The ridiculous levels of attachment I have to things that are completely replaceable are really making me wonder. I’ve completely failed with reducing the amount of music I will carry to my next abode. I tried. I really tried. All that happened as I sorted through the hundreds of CDs was I remembered how wonderful they all are, and started listening to things I hadn’t listened to for years. And don’t get me started on the books.

Yet time is running out. The removal company is coming tomorrow to start the assessment process ... so, being an absolute master of procrastination, I chose this moment to update my blog ...

Do it now. Okay, I’m going. Now. Okay, okay ...

Friends

What is a friend? Are our true friends more important to us than even members of our family? A popular, and oft-repeated Facebook post claims: “Family isn't always blood. It's the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything for you, and love you no matter what.”

In the words of Alain de Botton, a friend is someone “kind enough to consider more of us normal than most people do.” And when we think about the importance of friends, one can’t help but think Nietzsche was right to find Epicurus’s ideas on friendship appealing: “Of all the things that wisdom provides to help one live one’s entire life in happiness, the greatest by far is the possession of friendship.”

This past week I have managed to catch up with two wonderful friends. The next week will, I hope, see me have the opportunity to spend time with others. I am blessed with a collection of special people – not a large collection to be sure, but a collection nonetheless – of people who I consider to be true friends.

Then there are the new friends. The people we meet by chance who touch our lives and who, for whatever reason, reach us in a way that makes us want to open ourselves to them and to meet up with them again and again. The people we want to build a friendship with because of that spark they have that lights our hearts and our minds (and if we’re very lucky, our bodiesJ).

They may, over time, become family. Or we may realise that we were mistaken. Or they may not like us quite the same way we like them.

I guess what counts for me is that amongst all the people that I have met, there are a few people I find it easy to support and love who support and love me back.

I want to break free

I know some of my older readers will remember Freddie Mercury and this wonderful Queen song. I've been reflecting recently about how many barriers we create for ourselves to prevent ourselves breaking free. Why is it that people need to feel safe and secure, even when it's clearly not making them happy and is, on occasion, even damaging them?

How can we remove the bars that cage us and take action to go to another place in life? What is the worst that can happen?

Any thoughts, encouragement, random hints, etc. welcome.

I know it will be worth it in the end.

Stepping out ...

I'm not good at making choices. Sometimes in my life there has only been one thing on a menu, only one suitable place, only one unmissable movie. Now as I work through my year of living differently, I find choices abound - and it can be tough to make a decision.

Take tonight for instance. It's a long weekend. No work tomorrow. And I've decided to meet up with a friend and go out. But where should we go? Do we want to go to Neos on the sixty somethingth floor, of perhaps something a bit closer to the ground, should we go somewhere by the beach, or somewhere that has dancing ...?

Too many choices. Stepping out is hard. But I'm going. We've got as far as arranging where to meet and at what time. The adventure begins. Where to next ... I'll keep you posted. Maybe ;)

Just listen ...

This morning I was watching a webcast about selling stuff on the internet (stuff being the technical term for anything that people want to sell, from content to services to tangible processes). One sentence resonated, staying with me throughout the day.

"When was the last time you spoke to a customer without trying to sell them something?"

Every week I receive one or two sales calls - in Dubai these are usually from banks or financial advisers. More often than not they launch into a prepared script about their product. They haven't asked me what I need, let alone taken the time to establish that I need anything at all. They pitch their product or service as though whatever they are offering is something everyone will want, regardless of their individual differences. My credit card requirements as a single woman of a certain age will be the same as those of a 20-seomthing who's just left home. Or so they seem to think.

They deliver their pitch in such a way that you know the clock is ticking. You can almost hear the voices in their heads:
- Should I give up now?
- Was that a flicker of interest?
- Maybe she's worth another 30 seconds before I decide to hang up and try the next call.

Yet, when someone does stop and listen to us, when someone asks what we want or need and then waits for the answer, and listens to it, most of us feel far happier about spending the time talking to them, and are probably more open to buying whatever they have to sell.

If you're in sales, give it a try. Ask one good question (a nice open ended question designed to give them scope to talk) and then listen. If you must make a noise, make sure you're encouraging them to keep speaking. About what they want, about what they need.

Give it a go. I'm sure you'll discover that you understand their needs more deeply - and when that happens, then you can think about maybe selling. Get used to this process, use it a few times, build up a relationship with your prospect. When you make the investment you will reap the financial rewards.

Home

After spending a too short two weeks in Australia I find myself thinking about what home means - and how many homes can a person have?

I live in Dubai and have lived there for over ten years. I have good friends, friends I want to see regularly and often, in Dubai, the UK, Switzerland, Canada, Macedonia, Poland ... These are all people I have met since I moved to Dubai - they are the friends of my midlife and I love them dearly.

That said, I have friends in Australia who I have known for way longer and who I wish I could see more often. Two or three weeks a year visiting the country of my birth doesn't allow me to spend the time with them that I would wish to spend.

Then of course there is family. Love them or hate them, we can't live without them. They made us who we are. They shaped our lives, supporting us in times of trouble and grief, cheering us in times of triumph, and they are just there during the plodding days of ordinary life. And that's the important thing. They are there. Always. No matter what family ties tie. I have found that even remote cousins can sometimes seem at least as close as good friends because of our shared background; the family ties we have in common making up for any lack of shared experience.

So when it comes to ideas of home, and where I will spend the rest of my life, I confess I am torn. Sure I live in Dubai, but that's more because it's convenient than through any sense of belonging there. And Australia as the country of my birth, the home of my family, the place with which I am most familiar, well, it's home.

At this stage I find it impossible to say where I will end up - but I have a strong feeling that no matter where I keep my belongings, airport lounges will remain familiar places.