Life is

... is surprise.

2008-06-12T14:56:00.000-07:00

The life is surprise.

- my Chilean roommate

It is more noble to give yourself completely to one individual than to labor diligently for the salvation of the masses (Dan Hammarskjold, former UN Secretary General)… I take that to mean that I could devote [my time] to the thousands of people and projects “out there” and still not have a deep meaningful relationship.

- Stephan Covey

Surprises and Challenges

2008-06-12T14:12:00.000-07:00

This has by far been the most difficult post to write. It would be pointless to try to detail or even summarize the past two months plus, and all the surprises and challenges I’ve faced, and decisions and changes that I’ve needed to make, but I’ll do what I can to give you an idea of what it’s been like.

Going back to April, as I said, I was preparing for my trip to Paris, but not without my first in a series of surprises and challenges: my first real computer virus. Make that 30. (I know it sounds lame, but it was scary, considering I haven’t (and still haven’t) backed up my current work. And there’s a lot of it). So, with the help of a classmate, I got my computer reformatted, but not before I had to face surprise #2: no electricity.

Yip, no electricity. Why? Well, without pointing fingers, let’s just say some things really are better when you do it yourself. At least they get done, even if not in the best way. Anyway, regardless of who was to blame, the outcome meant my apartment hadn’t received any electricity bills since we moved in, thus not paying for any, and hence, us getting our power cut.

In an odd way, it sort of brought things to a nice and slow, candle-lit, let’s-get-to-know-each-other-better-over-drinks-because-we-can’t-do-anything-else point in the apartment. Despite this, I really did want to do whatever I could to help get the electricity back before I left for Paris. My Chilean roommate didn’t believe I was doing much, but I’ve learned that sometimes facts are less important than feelings.

That Friday, I met with the Italian-Canadian professor from my first semester to show him some of the work I’d done for Shanghai. His feedback was really useful and inspiring, a nice surprise compared to most of the academic and industry feedback we’d been getting to that point. It gave me a lot of things to think about on my way to Paris that Sunday afternoon.

I had thought that this time, because I was flying, there wouldn’t be any major surprises as far as getting myself settled was concerned, but as usual, I was proven wrong. Although the flight was pretty much as the ticket said (one and a half hours), waiting for my luggage and commuting from the Airport to my new free-of-charge six day temporary dwelling (thanks to www.coachsurfing.com) took until the evening, and shattered any plans I might have made for that day. Ah well.

The neighbourhood I was to stay in was pretty upscale and beautiful, just across the canal from the Eiffel Tower, which was probably the reason why when I finally met my coach host, I was taken by surprise #4: his 9sqm “apartment”. One bed over an office desk, a really small shower right next to it, a “kitchen” next to that, and one window at the end. An extremely narrow space with everything literally a step away. All of this wouldn’t have been so bad, had my coach host at least have a coach. Yeah, that’s right. No coach. So for six nights, I was roughing it on the floor. Apparently, this was a translation error (as my couch host was a native French-speaker), but considering he had had several coachsurfers before me, I didn’t really believe him. Nevertheless, all I could do was be thankful I had a free place to stay.

The first of two design conferences (my main reason for going to Paris) began the next day. Although I had few expectations of what they would be like, I don’t think I was ready for all the surprises in store.

Now, it would really be too much if I tried to summarize my experience of both the conferences and time in Paris here (I actually did summarize my conference notes and experiences in a document that I shared with my classmates though), but the surprises worth mentioning here were as follows:

- a relearning that the “design industry” (if you can really even call it that) is filled with professionals of varied intelligence and levels of it, and unsurprisingly, papers and presentations that reflect that diversity;

- the realization that some conference presentations are nothing more than sale pitches for companies, universities, projects or personalities;

- the observation that the motivation for why many people attend conferences as obscure as those that deal with the issue (if there is one) of “design thinking” or “design management”, it’s sadly largely based on feelings of jealousy, insufficiency, or grounds for proving superiority or recognition;

- the good fortune of finding and getting to know a Turkish PhD professor living in Barcelona who has a good sense of humor and desire to “speak unspoken truths”; an American PhD that reminded me so much of a good high school friend in both character and intellectual pursuit; an American masters student studying in London who has pretty similar career interests and perspectives on culture and philosophy. (I spent a lot of time with those three guys, and feel like in my masters course in Milan, I learned the most in Paris from them).

- the nerve that I got during the last hearing of the first conference to actually stand up and be the last person to give my feedback on the work and ideas presented. (I think I was the youngest person to do so, and in a room of some 200 academics, that wasn’t easy).

The city itself was a pretty nice experience. Paris really is as beautiful as it’s made out to be. I saw a lot of the famous landmarks, strolled down the Champs-Elysees, ate “authentic” crepes, and yes of course, checked out a local salsa club. I didn’t dance though. A French girl I had met in Shanghai was to meet me there, but she came later than I expected, and since I was with my newfound American masters student acquaintance, I didn’t want to wait too long. I realized then the guilt in focusing on my own pleasure rather than over another person’s comfort. The situation also hauntingly reminded me of many mistakes I’m sure I’ve made thinking this way. So, instead of the dancing the night away, I spent it building a friendship. I returned to Milan the night of April 19^th to a re-electrified apartment.

The next two days were the 2008 Salone di Mobile, probably the most popular public event in Milan by far. While the event focuses almost exclusively on furniture and household appliances (the traditional domain of industrial designers), and wasn’t really something I was really interested in at all, I felt obliged to go. The experience was a stark contrast to the conferences I had just come back from and had my head spinning in a daze, asking myself the question: How can I be a designer and not be interested in these things? I need to design a chair! Don’t get me wrong though, I think it’s good that people are designing these things (there was even Japanese equivalent of the Korean made Ceregem massage beds, ha ha), but I guess I just don’t want to be one of them. And so goes the quest for “what I really want to do for work”.

My computer wasn’t actually completely virus-free until after all this happened. One of my Latvian roommates, who apparently is as much a computer-geek as he is artist, helped me here. Who would have known?

It was around this time that I started to watch Canadian news and NHL highlights online. I don’t think I ever valued Canadian media and pop culture as much as I started to then.

On April 22^nd, after an inspiring guest lecture on brand strategies focused on China, I went out with my Italian class to nearby bar. Since then, the class and the time that we spend together afterwards had really become something I really looked forward to. The students reminded me of high school, and the teacher lively, prepared, encouraging, and unlike the majority of Italian professors I’ve met here, on time.

On the 26^th, after a good conversation with one of my Indian classmates, I came up with four task-orientated categories of pretty much all job types I could think of: make, manage, sell & buy. (Yeah, I know, I can be a geek too). There’s not much more to add to that here, other than to say that from this I came up with two concrete directions in which I can now redirect my career: sell energy technologies or manage consumer research. Either way, I know I’m moving away from design (“make”).

My class group presented our third workshop proposals to a representative of the said company from the previous post on the 28^th. Feedback was unsurprisingly unsubstantial, even after each group presented their work twice. But surprisingly, despite being a Monday, we weren’t to have another class until the Wednesday of the next week. Why? See if you can follow this logic: The company representative that we were supposed to be doing our next and final workshop with, wasn’t available the next day. Labour Day was on the Thursday, and so that meant that Friday would also be a day off, and of course, as our “regular schedule” was supposed to go, we weren’t supposed to have classes on Monday or Tuesday the following week, so that just left Wednesday. But of course, why have one day of class and let the students think about the project for the next eight days when you can just give them a vacation instead? So, no class Wednesday too. I love this place. The next day, I made my plan for those eight days (largely computer work).

For a change of scenery, and the comfort of feeling like I was in “school”, I spent most of my next few days in the university biblioteca (library). It was there that I met my newfound Italian studymates, who along with my Italian class, have really made my stay in Milan a bit more comfortable and easier.

On May 3, a picnic in the park with some of my Italian classmates and an extended invitation to my roommates, meant a surprising change in the dynamic of our apartment: the introduction of Mexicans. This began the language and cultural exchange between the Latinos and Latvians. Being the outsider to both groups wasn’t really a new experience for me, but like any foreign environment, knowing how and when to get involved has always been the challenge.

Two days later, after spending most of the day writing my summary of Paris, I came back to the apartment to see a really depressed and confused roommate. With one of other roommates, we watched the movies “Go” and “Criminal Lovers”. “Criminal Lovers” is French film that tells a story of increasing emotional complexity and strange plot twists. Not too far from the situation in our apartment if you ask me. With “Go”, a statement about success really got to me. I don’t remember the exact quote, but it said something along the lines of: “Nowadays, people often succeed by keeping others down rather than by showing genuine talent”. Based on my experience in an international masters program, I’d say there’s a fair bit of truth in the statement. The next evening we watched yet another movie together before calling it a night.

On the morning of May 7^th, my Chilean roommate announced that he would leave the apartment, no matter the consequences according to the contract. The reason given this time apparently had to do with personal feelings and conflicts more than anything else. After talking to him on the way to class that morning, I couldn’t help but relate his situation to that of mine when I decided to stay in Edmonton after my first trip to China. Now, I think I really understand what my real motivation was, and why it was wrong.

When we arrived in class, we were greeted by another pleasant surprise: no class! Why? Because the workshop tutor was ill, and in classic Politecnico fashion, there was no substitute planned. So, I spent the day shopping with a classmate instead. I felt like I had almost forgotten how long a day of shopping can be. Add to that the heat of the day (at +25, summer seemed to already have arrived), and the temptation of “dolce” (sweets), and I was spent. It was in that experience that I realized once again that my mind largely occupies itself with three topics: philosophy, work to do, and (you guessed it) girls. It took some time for me to relax and enjoy yet another day off, but when I did, I ended up buying a pair of shorts and a shirt, and napping in La Rinascente (the staff let me do that I assume because my partner-in-crime was busy buying the whole store (I exagrerate, but after an hour, it felt like that).

The next day was the last day my Chilean roommate would be a roommate (at least for the week). The morning was slow since we were told that we didn’t have class until the afternoon (at least we were going to have it). We talked all the way to a career fair that morning and continued once we got there. On the way to class, I felt I finally understood his reasons for wanting to leave. Once again, relating it to my experiences, it amazed me how similar people think and react given certain conditions. I would say that that’s evidence enough of some kind of “human nature”. My psychologist brother would have to verify this, but I really believe that all people are the same deep down, with the same needs, faults and “programming” (though I hate to use that term).

The afternoon was a bit of a surprise too. It turns out that for our last company workshop, my Chilean roommate and I would be in the same group. I hoped that would be a good thing.

After my Italian class and after-class amusement, I returned in the evening to the feeling of an empty apartment. My Chilean roommate had left his goodbye note on the wall. I made my dinner in relative silence until my Latvian roommates arrived with two new friends which were apparently staying over for a few days, along with a new Mexican boyfriend. I really wasn’t in the mood for anymore surprises, but in that situation, I felt like I couldn’t do anything, so I didn’t. I slept in parts that night, my roommates (old and new) leaving and returning early in the morning. Fortunately, I didn’t feel too tired when I got up.

When I arrived to school, I was one of only a few, thanks once again to another infamous Milanese sciopero (strike). That was good for me since it gave me time to put together some ideas to help guide my group along (something I felt I’d be doing a lot of that for that workshop). The good thing was that it would give me good practice in leadership and proactivity.

I returned to Caffe Carribe after months of absence that Friday, and got reacquainted with many of my fellow Ital-salseros. It was great to be back.

Saturday, May 10^th, I joined a friend for a tram party in the evening. Something like a lesser version of the Carnivale in Venice, complete with masks and all. A strange, but pleasant surprise for sure. I ran into one of my roommates, my new ex-roommate and some of my Mexican Italian classmates on my way back to the apartment late that night.

The next two weeks from Sunday to Sunday (apart from school work) consisted of: watching an Italian people-with-disabilities play; attending an Eritrean independence day celebration; being “discovered” in the salsa scene by a pretty “plugged in” salsero who has since showed me different venues for salsa in and around the city; beginning my resume writing, portfolio making, and interviews for internships; going to another classmate’s birthday party and a few too many late night parties with my roommates; the unsurprising return of my Chilean roommate. The last of which made for a good Sunday, on May 18^th, where we watched Zeitgeist together and had a long discussion about design and its (in)significance.

Saturday May 24^th was a day to remember. Having no work to do for my job for over a week, and feeling no specific pressure to revise my resume and portfolio, I spent most of the day relaxing. By whatever fortune, my Chilean roommate and I got to talking again that evening, and at some point he remarked that he “felt bad” that after seven months he was finally getting to know me “as a friend”. That was a totally unexpected surprise for me.

Later that night, we went out to a club together to celebrate our new level of friendship. However, before we could enter, my Chilean roommate stopped to continue our conversation, which was when we were approached by a typical street vendor (usually from Asia or Africa selling things anything from bracelets to neon lit animal hats). Now, a normal interaction would have included: a greeting and demonstration of the items for sale by the vendor and then a show of compassion, confusion or disgust by the would-be customer. However this time, my Chilean roommate engaged in a rather lengthy lecture on business and strategy to him, taking points straight out of our course! It was a hilarious experience, like something out of a movie, but I tried to hold back my laughter. What a night.

May 27^th was the day my class began its final work on “the technical feasibility of one of the past projects”. The day turned into something more of an experiment in democracy, with each group that had worked on their projects defending theirs as “feasible” until the last vote was cast. There were also those who “switched parties”. And as always, I fell into both categories. Work begun on each project the next day. I got what I voted for.

Class finished early on the 27^th so that we could attend another guest lecturer, this time from MIT, who presented three experimental projects on mobility, tourism and consumer experience. I thought they were really interesting, but Ezio Manzini, (the host of all of these guest lectures) gave his final critique of the work presented on the grounds that fashion was not considered in these experimental projects, and making a differentiation between Design A (a design team) and Design B (a designer). It was at that point that I started to understand my confusion with the design industry. I think I have always thought of design more as Design A than B. It was also at that point that I decided not to listen to Ezio Manzini so much anymore.

June 1^st was another important day for me, as it was the day I finally received direct client feedback on the work that I’ve been doing for Shanghai. After an hour long Skype meeting with my boss and his client, and a subsequent meeting with only my boss, the project had been redefined. What does that mean? Basically, while not all the work that I’ve done is now useless, it means that I now have two months to create a “technically feasible” concept based on what the client now wants and not what he wanted. My boss gave me the option to quit the project earlier if I felt like it wasn’t any longer of interest to me, but for better or worse, I said I would stay on until my internship. Coincidentally, this does impact any plans I might have made to travel back to Shanghai once my course is finished, leaving my future once again to the great unknown called September. This experience also echoed thoughts worth repeating again: any projects consciously thought of as good or bad, should NEVER be given priority over things that matter most in life, like relationships with neighbors, friends, families and lovers…

Perhaps this was a reason why this past Friday, after a class confrontation with my Chilean roommate, our relationship has taken a turn for the worse and he is planning to leave the apartment for the last time. With less than two months left in our contract, this comes at a difficult time. My Latvian roommates plan to leave by the end of this month, and the owners have already been looking for replacements, but with limited success. While I am not too worried about who will be paying the rent in July, I am more concerned about what new surprises are in store, and trying my best to anticipate them.

…

On a positive note, I got to see one of the brighter sides to my Italian experience on Italy’s Festa di Repubblica, as Andrea Bocelli gave a live performance in the center of the city, and have since started watching Euro 2008 (Go Germany!). However, I’ve also had to say goodbye to my Italian class this past Monday, and start to say my goodbyes to the salsa scene as places close for the summer.

Some of my family and friends will be visiting in the next few weeks, and at this point, I could use the familiarity. But before that happens, I’ve got a lot of work to do.

So it goes.

The Italian Alps, Geneva, Germany, the Netherlands and Back Again

2008-04-07T15:22:00.000-07:00

I left the apartment at 8:30 Friday March 14th in the morning, the latest I thought could and be able to make my to Milano Centrale to catch the early train at 9:15 bound for Torino. Despite what you may be thinking, this trip had nothing to do with what Ezio Manzini had told me only days earlier, but rather, as my class now had its Easter break, I wanted to go skiing.

I tried to sleep on the train, but once I got to Torino, I needed to change trains to continue my journey to the town of Bardonecchia, on the French boarder. On that train, I sat in front of a really positive 30 year old Frenchman, and we shared stories of our adventures along the way. He had won a scholarship to play soccer on a US team when he was in college, was on the French news when Hurricane Katrina hit, and then worked in Shenzhen, China for a year and a half. He said he had ambitions to start his own import-export company with China (a fairly common idea I’ve come across when talking to people who have lived in China for a while), but now, thanks to a year old marriage and his wife’s pregnancy, he has chosen to become what Ezio Manzini referred to as a “downshifter”: working in a sports shop and taking his time to enjoy “the little things in life”. Near the end of our travels together, he told me to “just keep moving forward”. Another point taken.

When I finally arrived in Bardonecchia, what I had hoped for came true. Standing in front of the lift-pass office was a fellow Canadian waiting for it to open (almost everything everywhere in Italy closes for at least an hour and half for lunch). We chatted there for a bit and then took a short stroll down the street to get a coffee. He was a fairly stereotypical guy originally from Newfoundland, now living in Idaho, who had somehow got a three month university contract in Torino to teach International Business, even though his background was in Marketing. He told me a lot about differences between Canada and the US, his academic interests and his love for cars (he had just gotten back from the Geneva Auto Show, which is ironically where I planned to go after Bardonecchia). Oddly enough though, I felt this encounter had shown me both the good and bad side of living so long in North America. The world outside is so different.

The two of us arrived at the bottom of the slopes by shuttle bus just after three in the afternoon, which gave us just two hours to ski (since almost everyone everywhere in Italy goes home when you least expect them to). I hesitated, but ended up renting some equipment and went for my three runs down the mountain. It ended up being well worth in though. On my second ride up the mountain, I got talking to two local employees who helped me find a place to stay that night, since I decided two hours of mountain time was not enough.

At five, I met one of the employees, Daniele, who had promised to drive me to the local bed and breakfast. Along the way, he invited me out with his friend for pizza. How could I say no? The three of us and Daniele’s dog climbed up a snow covered mountain path to see his cottage (a relic of the second world war) and later were treated by him in a really nice local restaurant. The whole time, I kept up in Italian conversation and felt so fortunate to have met such hospital Italians. Daniele’s friend gave me a jar of honey for my trip. Oh man!

The next day, I woke up to a fairly typical Italian breakfast and sense of hospitality from the bed and breakfast’s host Franca. I asked her if I could leave my luggage in my room while I went to go ski, and also if she could look up the times when I could take a train to Geneva later that evening, and her response, as so often was, was “Come vuoi” (As you want). I passed through Les Arnault (the village just outside Bardonecchia) on my way to the ski lifts, and in no time was back on the slopes.

The day passed by rather quickly, despite the fact that I took many breaks to eat and rest. By the end of my runs, I had completed nearly half the runs on one side of the resort. I finished my time there indulging in a little pie, and consequentially meeting Daniele once again. He had been apparently working in the machine shop the entire day, which would explain why I didn’t see him until then. He drove me back to the bed and breakfast around 5:30pm.

When I got there, Franca told me that there was no train that evening that would get me to Geneva, but I wasn’t convinced, so together the two of us went into town trying to find other options. I didn’t want to miss going to Geneva or the auto show, which was to end the next day. It turned out that my best option was to wait for the next morning and take a train into France to get to Geneva in the afternoon, giving me more or less 2 hours at the auto show. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

So, instead of getting ready to travel that evening, I spent it chatting and eating in the bed and breakfast, and later with Daniele, his wife and some of their friends in a pizzeria on top of a mountain. It was a good time, and I once again impressed myself with how well I could keep up in Italian. Who knew?

...

On Sunday, I caught the morning train bound for Chambery, France. Because I had originally thought I could somehow cut across the Italian Alps into Switzerland, I didn’t plan on spending any extra money on train tickets from Bardonecchia onwards, since I had bought a EuroRail ticket for a trip that didn’t include France. Now that I was passing through France (like everything else in Europe) I had to pay an arm and a leg for it. Once I made it to Chambery, I needed to change trains, and with the quick help of a pair of Lithuanian girls, I managed to buy a ticket for Geneva and board the train just as the last train controller was finishing his last platform check. Talk about timing.

By noon, I made it to Amberieu, where I had to change trains again, but had an hour and a half to do it, so I went exploring. Being a Sunday, I ended up at a church where I took pictures of people and their lent leaves (or whatever they’re called). It took a while for 1:30 to arrive, but when it did, I was finally off to Geneva.

When I got to the main train station in the Geneva, something immediately felt different. I thought maybe it was the buildings, but I wasn’t exactly sure. Arriving in a different country of course meant passing through a kind of quick customs inspection. Luckily, no x-rays or long lines though. With the help of a friendly staff person, I found the right train to make it to the Geneva Palexpo, site of the Geneva Auto Show. I didn’t know how to get my ticket, but since I thought I only had two hours to see the show, the last thing I wanted to do was spend more time on something as trivial as that. So, I took a chance. After talking with some train service people, I managed to get on board the eating car free of charge. In light of the quasi-confusing state that I was in, I was introduced to a big black guy who I assume was the head of that car. It turns out that he was a French-Canadian who had lived in Switzerland for ten years, Africa for two and finally decided to call Geneva his second home. He said he was also heading to the Palexpo that day, so we went there together. We got along instantly, and despite having little interest in cars and having never been to the Auto Show, he said he would come by later on. It was pretty cool. Another Canadian, just like that.

The show was pretty much as big as I imagined, with content dwarfed by extravagance. Most makes, from Rolls-Royce to Pinifarina, and Tata (from India) to Brilliance (from China) were there. And of course, being consistent with the theme of sustainability that has been tooted around the industry for the past 10 years or so, the alternatives (from Smart to the no-name electrics) were there as well. Oddly enough though, my fascination about the show wasn’t so much in the cars as in the display booths. Perhaps this was an influence from my masters course, but I really did find them fascinating. BMW had a two floor showcase and a VIP bar and lounge. Smart had their entire booth on a slant. Maybach and Rolls-Royce had hidden display areas. Fiat had a huge Cinquecento shaped room. Audi and VW played with lines on the floor and the ceiling. And Mini had a DJ booth. It was a pretty crazy competition for attention. The big black guy joined me after some time, and we made our run through the show together.

He said he wanted show me around the city and have dinner with his family afterwards, but after news of private matters, I was left on my own. He did recommend I visit an area near the railway station though, where I could try some “real” poulet. So, I made my way there, but ended up looking for one of the two hostels I had researched online, getting “the last bed in Geneva”, eating McDonald’s with one of two Chinese academic researchers there for an international conference on meteorology, and walking through the red light district (which wasn’t as impressive or as scary as I imagined it might be).

...

The next morning, I woke up as early as I could to catch the first train to Basel, Switzerland, and subsequentially, the trains from Basel to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Dortmund, and Dortmund to Muenster. Total time in transit, including waiting: almost 11 hours. Not quite Shanghai to Chengdu, and nothing like the Maglev to the Pudong International Airport, but it gave me time to think and sleep.

Once I got to Muenster, although it wasn’t raining like in Geneva, it was cold. I exited the train station from the back, where I was welcomed by a thousand parked bicycles. This was definitely the other western Europe I had hoped to see since I started researching sustainable mobility. I was picked up by one of my aunts and made it to her apartment in time for dinner.

From Tuesday, March 18th to Thursday, March 20th, I spent time with my aunt, and one of my cousins and his family. It had been many years since I had last seen both of them in Germany, but it was good to get reacquainted. It was my first time meeting my nephews. Loud and demanding, they weren’t too far off from my better-halves in Milan. Good practice for the future is the way I look at it now though. We said our goodbyes that Thursday, and by four o’clock, I was on my first train bound for the Netherlands.

...

I had to change trains twice to get to Delft (a small university town near The Haag), and once I got there the rain that had begun earlier that trip, accompanied by the cold that had been following me since Bardonecchia really brought me back to winter in Edmonton. It was late evening by that time, and the ground was soaking, the grass like moss and the wind like that I’d imagine on the high seas. And on top of that, finding my Indonesian friend’s door to her student residence (the girl who had moved to the Netherlands for an alternate masters program) was like walking through a maze in the dark. It was a terrible entrance into yet another country. That night, I had dinner with my friend, her roommate, and another one of their friends- all Indonesian. Forgetting that I was in someone else’s home, I started to ask questions (that addressed my immediate personal needs one would normally assume would have already been taken care of (like bringing toothpaste, a razor, of which I had forgotten back in Milan)). That sort of set the tone of that portion of my journey with my new temporary roommates, on par with the weather.

On Good Friday, three of us traveled together to Amsterdam to meet some fellow classmates from the masters program in Milan and another friend from Italy. Together, the six of us went site-seeing, visiting churches, museums, and of course, the red light district (not so impressive either, but better than Geneva). Late in the evening, I finally decided to look for a place to sleep. I originally had hoped to stay in my friend’s place the entire time that I was in the Netherlands, but because I planned this trip largely based on assumptions (remember what I said about assumptions!?!), I wasn’t prepared for this (not to mention the order in which I planned this trip, touring the Netherlands during the Easter weekend instead of spending that time with my family in Muenster). But, that’s how it goes.

After finding no vacancy in all the hostels on one of the main tourist streets, I sat in an Irish pub, thinking to just pass the night there. It didn’t take me long to just get up and look for another place to stay. With little effort, I ended up finding what I think was a one star hotel, and stayed there for twenty euros. My room was in the shape of a triangle, on the top floor of the building with questionable security, pretty dirty conditions, and a bed next to a guy from Somalia who didn’t really speak English and snored really loudly. It was a different kind of night, but I was happy to have what I’m sure was “the last bed in Amsterdam”.

The next morning, I woke up to an emergency call from my Indonesian friend who had said that one of our other friends had lost her luggage in the train station. When I got there, the luggage situation had apparently already been worked out, but we could only get the luggage later that afternoon. So, we each went our own way touring the city until we met there once again. We had a kind of Easter lunch celebration in an Argentinean restaurant, and then returned to Delft. In the evening, I got to witness my first Dutch Easter mass. The Dutch language as far as I’ve come to understand, although uses some German words and similar expressions, is nothing at all like it. On the way back to my friend’s place, I felt like I was somehow “in the wrong”, so I started to apologize for my difficulty, thinking once again it was based on culture. As it turns out, the problem had more to do with my lack of focus, conciseness and hesitation when I speak. In other words, the “test” of my Anyway blog. I guess I did fail after all.

The next day was relatively slow and easy. In the morning, I had a great conversation with the classmate who had almost lost her luggage about life and relationships. I can’t summarize it here, but the main message was pretty much what my philosophy professor gymmate at the university used to say to me every time we would finish our conversations: “Keep smiling Tim”. I’ll never forget that.

I toured the main square of Delft with the same classmate and then caught a train to Rotterdam where I ended up in a nice “theme room” hostel, prepared myself for another day of site-seeing, and took in a bit of the night life. I returned to the hostel around two in the morning to find a guy from Spain in my bed. Apparently, he and five of his fellow Spaniards had occupied that half of the room. It took a bit of time to finally come to an agreement as to where I would be sleeping that night, and bit longer until all the commotion stopped and I could finally sleep.

The next morning, I took my time to decide what it was that I wanted to do that day, but once I remembered that I still had to write a summary report for my work, I knew it couldn’t be much. So, I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon touring the riverside near the hostel and eating lunch at the Hotel New York (the site from which many of the first Europeans left from to immigrate to America). Rotterdam today reminds me of Shanghai - a port city with a lot of new architecture screaming “look at me”. The rest of the day was spent largely on the computer in the hostel lounge area. Just before I left, I was bombarded with concerns and questions about learning Italian by an Australian guy who assumed I was Italian. That was really unexpected. When I finally returned to my friend’s apartment in Delft, the two of us and her roommate ate KFC and engaged in a discussion about the NHL (don’t ask).

The next day, I got up at eight to finally go to TU Delft – one of Europe’s most reputable technical universities and the main reason I wanted to come to the Netherlands in the first place. It had been raining since I came to the Netherlands, but this was the first day that there was snow on the ground. I toured the Industrial Design Engineering faculty on my own and talked to the International Students Advisor. If I wasn’t supposed to be in an MBA program, then this is where is should have been. TU Delft also has the same masters program as Milan, but in opinion, of a much higher level.

Feeling a bit disappointed with my decision to study in Milan, apart from the many other bad decisions I had made on my journey, I walked to the bus stop ready to leave. It was there that I met a Greek girl who couldn’t stop smiling. It was so strange to meet her then. Not saying much, apart from answering whatever questions she asked of me, I was taken by surprise by a seemingly innocent statement, “Wow, you are lucky to see snow in the Netherlands”. I smiled and the bus arrived soon after that.

I boarded a train bound for Eindhoven about half an hour later and arrived in the central Netherlands city an hour and a half after that. There I met another student from the Netherlands that I had originally met through the publishing of “The Possibility of Shanghai”. He took me on a short tour of his university and later shared our stories of academia, business and China in the city center. It was great to finally meet him. In the evening, I made it to my last hostel of this trip.

The next day, I got up as early as I could, did a bit of work on the computer, had my breakfast, and started the last leg of my Easter journey. After missing a bus, getting on the wrong train and getting caught between a closing door, I was on my way to Aachen, Germany to look at one last university before taking the night train back to Milan.

Aachen, as I discovered, is not just a “university town”, it IS a university. While there is a sort of a central campus and main building, the various departments and their respective buildings are all over the city. Finding out where the design department was, was a challenge in itself, but I made it there an hour before closing time and had whatever questions I had answered. Another road not taken, but in this case, I think it’s better I didn’t. I left Aachen that evening on the night train.

When I arrived in Milan the next morning, it was Thursday and I was a day late for our class’ new workshop, but on-time for a new semester of Italian classes (I jumped one level. Woo-hoo!). Returning to the apartment was like seeing, to use the earlier metaphor, the remains of a volcanic eruption.

Fortunately, the last weekend of March saw a lot of restocking and renewing for Spring. The park in Affori had a display of hand-made children games and a horse riding event. The weather was warm, and the normally quiet town atmosphere had changed into that of a street market and fair. It was nice way to welcome the season. In the evening, I made dinner for my roommates and a friend.

Thanks to one of my Lativan roommates, and an evening of alcohol and “ambience” music last Wednesday, a fragile peace has since been established between my Chilean roommate and I. I hope it lasts. On the Thursday, our other Latvian roommate came back from her trip to Latvia, and we all spent the day cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. What an effort and way to reconnect.

The past week was also a lot of organizing for work (I’m now officially in the “just get those sketches done” phase. My Chilean roommate has offered to help me with concept development, as he wants me to become a “real designer” among other things.), school (This new workshop has proved to be a bit of let down despite the high-caliber firm we are supposed to be doing work for. Eg. Last Friday’s class ended with a false promise that the company would be giving a short presentation, and was instead some guy selling yoga classes. Yeah, I know. On the plus side, my group seems to be working well together despite the abstract criteria we’ve been given on which to base our work. I feel like I’m learning a lot from them, once again. This time the lessons are mostly in effective communication and proactivity.), and my next trip: Paris.

A Long Time Coming

2008-03-14T00:19:00.000-07:00

History repeats itself.

I’m noticing this more and more in my own life, and now more than ever. Just like that of last year, almost a month and a half has passed by faster than I can believe, and I didn’t take time to write a posting or take very good notes of what was going on. So I think this posting will be much shorter than it should be. It's been a long time coming, but that’s how it goes. The following is what I can recall.

Last month’s first week of classes and the memory of a scholarship I could apply still apply for (and the subsequent essay questions I needed to answer to apply for it) took me on a journey of mind-exploration that led me to discover some of the answers to the questions I had in the last posting. I pieced some of my thoughts together on paper, and it went something like this:

My dream now is no longer to redesign the car, rather, it is to “redesign” the use of the car. To provide support for other options of getting around. To influence where and how people live, rather than improving a single product’s lifecycle. Something that deals with the movement between spaces, both public and private, interior and exterior. To deal directly with the various stakeholders around local urban mobility systems to create effective business models and policy recommendations that support the use, maintenance and extension of these systems. In other words, urban planning.

I’ve also thought about this before, but now here’s the latest problem: I have next to no formal background in subject. And on top of that, I’m not willing to do any more formal education outside of work once this masters is complete. Maybe I’m just too stubborn, but that’s my stand.

If I didn’t make the link between cars and urban planning clear, the following thoughts definitely won’t be, but here they are:

The promotion and facilitation of plausible and articulated “system innovations” (innovations that affect technological, sociological and ultimately cultural frameworks). The need to look at industries as cultures, and that like them, none of them want to die or completely change. Working in policy/research gives the opportunity to deal with how these different cultures interact. Business models, laws, relationships… facilitation, communication, promotion… something I can do! Shanghai Expo 2010? Yes? The theme is “Better city, better life”. A showcase of urban dreams from around the world (http://www.expo2010china.com/expo2006/liveshow/index1.html). Theres got to be something for me there! So is it back to Shanghai afterall? Is that still my “right” road? I really don’t know anymore, but it’s great to dream.

On February 16th, I took a trip up to Como Lago (a lake 1 hour north of Milan) with the Chinese girl I got lost with in Venice. We had a great time exploring the town of Como and the southern part of the lake. We talked a lot about our pasts, present and ideas about the future. It’s been so great to find someone here I feel I can relate to and talk with so easily. Along with this, we got to sit in a seaplane (with permission), wander around a private mansion ground (without permission, but used the excuse that we were looking for a restaurant to avoid any conflict), and threw confetti on a merry-go-round (don’t ask).

For her, she said it was her happiest time in Italy. I was happy to know that.

From February 20th right up until yesterday, the majority of my time was spent trying to balance between doing technology research for the company I am working for, and doing groupwork for the latest school project: retail design for a mosaic manufacturing company in Vicenza (a few hours drive east of Milan). It was an interesting project to work on, but as with all the groupwork I’ve been involved in so far, the major lessons were in the relationships within our group, and later as it would prove to be, with the other groups, the professors and the company itself.

Some of the lessons I learned are as follows:

- The facilitation of communication really is important for groups.
- “Feelers” (a term we used back in APIRG to mean somebody who’s priority is to gauge how people are feeling) are also really important.
- Non-personal communication, especially those based solely on text (including blogs…) are not really good for communicating feelings or plans.
- If you’re in a group, it’s really up to you to declare if you feel under- or over-used.
- If you’re going to be working around other groups, be wary of copying or accusations thereof.
- If a group, professor or company can’t give you a clear answer or sense of direction, you HAVE TO become pro-active and define your own answer and path. To make a proposal rather than a question. (I think this last point is especially important for me and my life).

During this period, I was also told that I have a “scientific-mind”, that the past project didn’t go so well because of “a lack of coordination, orientation and coherence in following its own guidelines” (another lesson I think applies to my life), and heard the opinion that “America will go down because it doesn’t have any pain” (Again, don’t ask).

All of our final presentations for that project were on March 6th. We took a trip out to Vicenza for the second time to present our concepts directly at the company’s headquarters. Now, I don’t really know what happened in the few moments before our group went up to present, but thanks in part to some tips from the guy from Vancouver (still in Shanghai) about presenting, I felt really comfortable and confident. Despite the fact that we were presenting in front of the heads of the company there in Vicenza and those in Miami (thanks to the magic of video-conferencing), I had no problems with it. When the presentation finished, I had a rush of enthusiasm about our work, and was given compliments by some of my fellow classmates. It was a great experience.

Of course, I also tried to get in as much dance time as I could, wherever I was. Whether in a group meeting, on the street or in a discotec. On the 22nd, I went out with my dancepartner and the Chinese girl who went with me to Como. I was the one to introduce her to the salsa scene, even though she was already taking Flamenco classes. It was another great night. The three of us even got rides back to each of our homes from some fellow salseros, despite us living in different parts of the city. For my Chinese friend, it was her happiest time in Milan.

…

On March 11th, I finally got to do something I had been waiting for since my first trip to Milan in 2006: talk with Ezio Manzini one on one about sustainable development.

I waited outside his office for more than an hour, until I was finally welcomed in after he had finished explaining a lot of design theory to two students. I started our conversation off by telling him my story from the time of the workshop he gave in 2002. He gave his compliments to me for what I had managed to accomplish and experience for my age. Once I completed my story, I asked him what I could do now. We talked a lot about different ideas about work, “downshifters”, why I shouldn’t be an urban planner, and the need to “find out who is doing what, and what their background is”. However, in the end, his final advice was: only you can answer that. No real surprise for me.

Towards the end of our meeting, I brought up the topic of strategic design, and the course I am taking on it (founded by Ezio Manzini). I told him my impression of it so far, and for better of worse, told him using the music industry metaphor, that it seems like there’s a lot of “filler”. No offense.

Our conversation ended with him telling me to look into the Torino World Design Capital Project (http://www.worlddesigncapital.com/), and to learn Italian. Points taken.

The 11th was also the end of a mini-workshop that our class had on fashion. The only thing I felt I got out of it were some good model-like pics of myself. I guess that’s not so bad afterall.

How are things in the apartment? Well, it’s a little tough to summarize here, but my best description of it would be like a volcano. Some days active, some days not so. Yesterday we had a sort of impromptu Easter dinner together, where I attempted to make German Knoedeln. Not the most successful attempt, but it was another learning experience nonetheless.

Today it's off traveling again. Happy Easter.

... is now.

2008-02-04T17:09:00.000-08:00

I don’t know what is right and wrong.
I only know I have to make a decision,
and then make it the best for me.

- my old dancepartner

The past is gone.
The future doesn’t exist.
Life is now.

- my Chilean roommate’s girlfriend

Thoughts on Sustainability, Roommates & Reality

2008-02-04T16:49:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since the last posting, but as I’ve mentioned before, the last few Januarys haven’t been the best for me. The second half of this one ended more intensely than the first, and was probably the most stressful of the last three years. But I want to begin this posting in chronological order, so here goes…

Tuesday, January 15th, was an early start to that week of classes, lead by a full day of lectures by Ezio Manzini. The week seemed promising. I think at that point, I really begun to understand the theory behind his lectures. Summarized, it seems to be this:

The world is transitioning into its next technological/economic/social form. And like any transition period, there are always many ideas and visions about what could be created, and what experiments and choices need to be made. (One of these that I’ve really supported was that of the “Leapfrog Hypothesis”: the idea that not-yet fully industrialized societies can shift straight towards an advanced multi-local society (Eg: what China is trying to do right now)).

Four promising directions in this transition have been regarded as “promising”: Cosmopolitan localism (multi-cultural communities that are not global “melting pots”, eg. Istanbul); Distributed systems (from the energy to manufacturing industries); Collaborative networks (Eg: Web 2.0); Creative communities (Grass-root organizations that practically address specific local issues of well-being (Eg: the Slow Food organization in Italy)).

However, while these directions are being taken, they are moving relatively independently from one another. The job of a Strategic Designer is therefore to connect them in the effort to increase their effectiveness in presenting viable models of alternative visions of a sustainable world.

…

Ok. But at that point, I also started to look at this theory through the eyes of a pragmatist. How do designers do this? And more importantly, who will pay them for it? That’s the mystery and the initial reason why since that day, I began to believe that the goals of sustainable development and other “life projects”, as in much traditional art and design, are in themselves not a real business or means to an end. Rather, they’re something that outside universities and a hand full of other organizations you can only do “as a hobby”.

Also, I’ve come to look at something else differently. There are many opportunities that entice the Curious to “make the world a better place” through them. But these opportunities can be dropped, changed, or altogether determined as unsuccessful or even counter-effective (the “rebound effect”) once completed. Not only that, but more notably, they make the goal of sustainability seem something of a highly specialized topic. One that only the true technocrats of the world can understand. However, this is not and cannot be true. It has to accessible by everyone, otherwise it would not be “sustainable”. Furthermore, (and this something I think most people understand easier than full-time or part-time academics) any projects consciously thought of as good or bad, should NEVER be given priority over things that matter most in life, like relationships with neighbors, friends, families and lovers…

(If this last paragraph seems a bit out of place, it’s only because this posting is so long and was written in many stages. There was a point at which I really became emotional about this topic, of which the last paragraph is the result of. It is something I hope never to forget, and that which others can not only learn from, but truly understand for themselves.)

…

The rest of that week had me researching programs at TU Delft (a technical university in the Netherlands. The MIT of Europe), and listening to lectures on product and communication strategies, product design and business plans (all really interesting). In terms of formal education, it was one good week.

That weekend saw a sushi lunch with Adriano as we practiced our languages, the return of one of my German friends from salsa and my revitalized return to the dancefloor (yeah!), and a Sunday of celebrating Christmas with my Eritrean churchgoers.

Sunday also began a really intense stage of my work for the Shanghai firm, which kept me busy until Tuesday. My only real break was that of Tropicana. Classes Wednesday through Friday were the exact opposite of the week before, but I’ve gotten used to this inconsistency.

Friday evening was aperitivo with my roommates and my Chilean roommate’s girlfriend. She left the next day to go back to Chile. One of my Latvian roommates and I decided to call it a night earlier than the others and returned to the apartment on foot from the center of Milan. A good one and a half hour walk. It was good though, because it gave us time to talk about a lot of household matters that would soon prove to be vital to life in the apartment.

That Sunday was the beginning of my workweek once again, only this time I didn’t finish my work until 6am Wednesday morning. Even with breaks, it was tough. During one “break” I decided to see Ezio Manzini give an extra lecture to an international group of students working on a “sustainable” vehicle design for India. It turned out to be a really important event for me as well, because it made me see my efforts in attempting to “make cars that don’t pollute” seem useless. Long story short, the world doesn’t need more cars (even those remanufactured). No matter how efficient they could be or what fuel they could use, it doesn’t address the consumption and use of them in a way that will systematically contribute to actual environmental sustainability.

Yes, I did think about that before, but I guess I just didn’t want to believe it. But now, when the man who influenced me to travel to China and pursue a dream of sustainability says “don’t make cars”, it leaves me in state of confusion similar to when I first discovered that “car design” is nothing more than car styling. However, this time around, I feel I have fewer roads to take from here, which is good. Dreams can indeed die, but again, that need not be bad news.

…

I missed all my classes that Wednesday so I could go buy train tickets and reserve two rooms for my cousins that were coming down from London that weekend. Some classmates and I had already made plans to go to Venice that weekend for the Carnivale, so it was ironic when one of my cousins wrote to say they were coming down to go to Venice as well. It really gave me something to look forward to. However, before any of that could happen, things at the apartment just had to take the turn for the worse.

My Chilean roommate had been looking for a new place since the new year, and had finally come to a breaking point on January 22nd, when after a very emotional email and a non-stop internet search he had become determined to leave as soon as possible. The heart of the matter seemed to be more a personality clash with one of the Latvians than the cultural clash I felt during the first couple of months living with him.

That Thursday (after a class field trip to many famous design studios and showrooms) I had a meeting with the landlords to explain to them the situation. My Chilean roommate returned to the apartment at night after receiving news that the latest apartment he had looked at was given to someone else. That night, all of us roommates had a meeting where I presented the new rules of the house, derived from an earlier talk with my Chilean roommate where I convinced him to stay. Consequently, that night began what I think will be a long period of tense emotions.

The following day, February 1st, just before leaving for school, my Chilean and Latvian roommate exchanged some aggressive words, and it became clear that my role as the peacekeeper for this group would soon be ending. From that point on, my Chilean roommate took on a new attitude about the situation: “If I go, he goes”, with the intent of using the newly established rules as a basis for unleashing his discontent with the Latvian. I tell you, it’s getting pretty crazy over here.

…

In the evening, after some final arrangements and packing, I left to meet my cousins at Milano Centrale. I took them to the same hostel I stayed in at the beginning, and then from there, we traveled back to the centre to see the Duomo. It was from there that our experience became interesting. Upon looking for a place to eat, we came across an older Italian guy who took us to his favorite, non-tourist restaurant. There we shared whole dishes of seafood, everything from octopus to shark (I’ve never eaten shark before). Claiming to work in the insurance industry all over Europe, with an office also in Miami, he treated all five of us to the dinner (something like 500 Euros!). That’s crazy! Where do these people come from?

After that, we all called it a night, despite having made plans to go clubbing. I don’t think anything could have topped the dinner. Anyway, a few hours later we would meet once again to catch the 7:15am train to Venice.

By coincidence, we ended up in the same car as my classmates, which was nice. The trip there turned out to be a mix of sleep and conversation. I got to know my cousins a bit better, and made plans with my classmates for the day.

When we arrived and were out of the station, a girl who had come along with us (from the same department but not the same class) and I got lost (typical of me, isn’t it?). We toured both the crowded tourist streets and the vacant residential alleys as we began to get to know each other and enjoy some ice cream. After some time, we arrived in Piazza San Marco (the largest square in Venice) to meet with the rest of the group. Although the number of people there, not to mention the city as a whole, was way beyond our imagination (and probably at least part of the reason why Venice is sinking at the rate that it is), we managed to find the group fairly quickly. We had a picnic lunch together, and then were off once again. But before the two of us knew it, we were lost once again (completely by chance, if you can believe that). Walking along the street nearest to the sea, we shared a crepe, got our faces painted and tried on carnivale masks. It took us a while to find the group this time around, but after that, we didn’t lose them again. And to make sure, the two of us hung on to the other’s backpacks until we made it to our next destination.

The rest of the night, and the following morning was filled with a lot of walking and dancing in the cold winter rain. I learned a lot from the whole experience. The girl I got lost with was from China, and spoke fluent Italian. I told her a lot about my experience in and ideas about China, and she asked me the same question I had been asking myself about the adopting another culture and language. One of the Indian guys from my class asked me about my work and told me why research inherently deals with policy (something I’ve been trying to avoid as much as I could since my time with APRIG). A bit of a reality check once again. After talking to them both, I began to think that I may have give up my job with the company in Shanghai once my classes are over, and pursue an internship with a firm doing design research. However, right now, the job I have is a good fit with my studies, and there is still time to answer the questions I have about the future.

At 5:19am the next morning, we were already on our way back to Milan. We all slept the whole way, but when I arrived at the apartment, I first thing I did was get myself ready for a skype meeting with my boss. After working a few hours that day, I welcomed my Chilean roommate back in the evening, after not having been in the apartment for almost three days.

Today, thanks to a change in my department’s schedule, it was back to school. The whole day’s lecture was given by a Canadian-Italian on new product strategies and development. Very, very interesting. I reconfirmed my belief in the idea of design research once again.

The day ended with rain that flooded the streets. I turned down all options for going out at night so I could exercise, cook from the book, and finally get around to writing this. It’s been a long January.

... is short

2008-01-14T15:15:00.000-08:00

Life is short,
break the rules,
forgive quickly,
kiss slowly,
love truly,
laugh uncontrollably,
and never regret anything that made you smile.

- Anonymous

The January Line

2008-01-14T15:02:00.000-08:00

Almost half of January 2008 has passed, and in a way, I feel like I have finally taken a step over the “January line”. Something that I’ve been afraid to do since finishing my undergrad. Much like how the “September line” has always been about, “what road do I take?” or the summer turning point, the “January line” has been about, “where do I go next?” or the winter pause to look at the map and figure out if I’m in the right place. Although, I still can’t say for sure, I’ve finally decided to just continue and hope for the best. I figure that at least this way, I can say I went somewhere and finished something.

…

Life in Milan continues much as it has since I arrived in October: too expensive. School is a bit of disappointment, but every so often is sparked with renewed interest by new topics and lecturers. My roommate relations are in constant flux, primarily that with my Chilean counterpart, but at least its becoming more routine. On the plus side, I’ve got work and dance to keep me busy. And as of yesterday, add to that cooking.

Yes, cooking.

For I don’t know how many Christmas’, I’ve gotten at least one cookbook as a gift. This Christmas was no different. So, thanks to a relatively free Sunday, and foregoing some initial hesitation, I took to the occasion to “cook by the book”. My first dish? Steamed broccoli with cheese sauce (Hey, I could only make what I had). For dinner, I made “real Italian” Spaghetti with tomato sauce. Although I don’t think I made enough, I think my old French teacher would have agreed that it was “to die for”. Well, at least one of my roommates thought so.

Today, I made "Popovers" for lunch (too much) and Spanish stuffed peppers for dinner (not enough). The latter really took some time to prepare and even required me to go out and buy some more ingredients. I’m really enjoyed myself. I think I can see why there’s such a thing as the food sciences.

As for other highlights, my new 72 year old friend Adriano and I celebrated our birthday together the day after with tea and biscuits. We talked about everything from China to Italy, and psychology to cosmology (his favorite topic). I felt I learned a lot, perhaps too much. I was really glad to have found him, and we agreed to meet every Saturday for Chinese lessons, so long as I agreed to listen to him speak about cosmology. Sounded fair to me.

My actual birthday consisted of a lot of work, finishing some research for my job and then attending to household matters (getting our bathroom door and the downstairs window fixed among other things). In the evening, I finally got to sit down with my Latvian roommates and eat some dinner they had prepared (my Chilean roommate was in Florence with his girlfriend at the time). After that, they actually partook in a little salsa lesson by me before coming to Caffe Carribe with me. It was a nice gesture even if they weren’t really into the dance or the music. The night got a little more complicated than I would have liked, thanks to a really aggressive Italian and a really drunk roommate, but luckily the night ended well, thanks to the staff and a really friendly Italian who drove us home. I think that experience was another lesson for me about “helping people”. The message being basically the same as that of the German girl I had met on the train to Milan, just reinforced with a “you don’t know me”. I can’t argue that.

The past week was largely consumed by a joint project between the Strategic Design students and MBA students of the Politecnico. It was an interesting experience in another part of the city, with a lot of new lessons to learn from my fellow classmates. It made me feel like an MBA is where I belong. Oh well…

On Friday, my Chilean roommate officially through me a “Tim Party” for my birthday. Our apartment wasn’t as filled as our house-warming party, but it was nice. The “after-party” was a bit too much for me financially and physically, so after venturing to a club thereafter, I said that I had had a good night, and didn’t want to end it uncomfortably. So, I turned around and went back to the apartment. And I’m glad I did.

Saturday evening was a similar night with some of the MBA students. However, instead of ending it with the same conviction as the night before, I carried on with two of my roommates and two new “friends”. We ended up in another club where I just sat down and closed my eyes until a group of girls woke me up and insisted that I dance. In the most strangest way I could ever remember doing, I got up, took off my trenchcoat, and started to dance. I felt like a puppet. It was so weird, and needless to say, uncomfortable.

I visited Adriano before that, but not for a Chinese lesson as agreed. He had called me the day before to say he had an accident with a tram car and couldn’t leave his apartment. So, I promised to entertain him for a while, listening to him speak about his condition (something that I think I helped get his mind off by telling him how strong and healthy he looked. How’s that for psychology?), and of course, cosmology.

Today, I woke up and decided I needed to do something about exercise. Afterall, there’s no point in eating better, if you don’t move better. So, I bought myself some weights and a yoga mat. Much cheaper than going to the gym here. Oh yeah, I guess you can add that to my list of things to keep myself busy. In the words of my brothers, “Giv’r”!!!

... should be easy

2008-01-01T15:36:00.000-08:00

“Life should be easy. If it’s not, you’re doing something wrong.

First, you have to figure out what you want to do. How do you do that? Easy. What do you enjoy doing, and what can you become good at?

For example, there’s a man who works as a stone carver and says “I’m carving a stone”. Then, there’s another man who works as a stone carver and says “I’m building a house”.

Who is doing what they want to do?”

- my godfather

My German Christmas & Italian New Year

2008-01-01T14:25:00.000-08:00

After spending the night of Saturday, December 22nd, and the early hours of the 23rd with two of my roommates in a popular club, I returned home with just enough time to pack and catch the 7:05 train to Munich. That being said, I got no sleep that night.

Unlike the trip I took from Munich to Milan last year, this trip was during the day so I couldn’t sleep despite the fact it was a 8 hour ride. I just had to see the Alps this time around. I watched the landscape change from brownish-green hills to mountains and then from snow covered mountains to snow covered plains. It was great thing to see.

When I arrived in Munich, I waited for my godfather to arrive. Only this time, I didn’t have same excitement and anticipation that I had when I arrived last year. I think part of it was the weather, but also because I’ve learned to expect less so I don’t pin my hopes too high. Also, I was tired.

After half an hour or so, I realized that he probably wasn’t coming and that I’d have to make it to Erding myself. It turned out that I was right. When I got to Erding, I wasn’t 100% (or 60% for my brothers) sure how to get to my godfather’s house, and of course, ended up getting a little lost along the way. Good thing though, because it gave me a chance to walk by the central square and see the streets filled with warm light and colorful decorations. It was a beautiful walk despite my condition.

When I arrived at the house, I felt like I had just walked into the setup of a play. I didn’t mind though, I was ready to help. That feeling stayed with me until about 5pm on Christmas eve, when my godfather rang a small bell to officially start the celebration. From that point on, I began to see where my own family’s Christmas tradition came from.

From the 24th to the 26th, more relatives had come, and the traditions I had known from home were carried out over more time and more emotional intensity. I also had the chance to finally catch up on sleep. However, the highlights for me, as they’ve always been, were conversations with my godfather. And this time around, with some of my cousins also. We talked largely about work, culture and meaning. I can’t remember everything word for word, but the essence was as follows:

- You work in order to create and support your private life. But you shouldn’t loath or love your work either.

- About culture, if you want to really work in a foreign country, you have to learn not only the language, but the culture. And by default, adopt at least part of it. (This has been a big question for me since I left China the first time. Do I really want to do that?)

- About meaning, you need to at least know it in order to celebrate it. Like so many, including my godfather, have said about Christmas.

On the 27th, I joined some of my cousins for a 12 hour Lord of the Rings marathon. A story I can relate to. It was great to watch it once again, despite the length, and the resultant lack of sleep once again.

From the 28th to the 30th, I spent time in Regensburg visiting some of my other relatives once again. The highlights there were dinner in a Chinese restaurant (which immediately reminded me of the dinner I had the previous year in a German restaurant in Anting), and running 5km with one of my uncles.

Upon leaving Regensburg on the 31st, bound for Milan once again, I pondered why this trip had felt so different. Maybe it was just a timing thing. This trip wasn’t the best planned one, as everything since arriving in Milan has been. But then again, even if it was, I think it would still have somehow been different.

My return to Milan was really important thanks to the presense of a German girl I met on the train who had moved to South Tirol (a German speaking part of Italy). We told each other our stories of how we ended up in Italy, and kept each other occupied until her stop in Bolzano. Her story was so familiar to me. Though we shared a lot of thoughts and I felt I learned a lot, one sentence she said really stood out. Roughly translated:

“Some people you just can’t help. They want to live the life they have. Even if you could do something, it wouldn’t help.”

Once again, I’ve heard something like that before, just not so blunt.

…

When I arrived at the apartment, I was greeted by my roommates,… and four others. My Chilean roommate was preparing a New Year’s dinner for us all. It was a nice evening of meeting new people and sharing some good “Italian” food.

As a group, we didn’t really know where we wanted to be when the clock struck twelve, and when some of us did decide, we were already too late to make it on time. The story of my life. So, at midnight, Italian time, seven of us celebrated the new year on metro line 3. We made the best of it, inviting the others in our car to join in. It was fun.

When we arrived at our stop, we just walked around a bit until we found an activity to take part in. And the first one we found was ice skating. One of my Lativan roommates and I strapped on our rented skates, and lapped the crowd of Italians on the small skating rink while throwing snowballs at each other. Ah, wintersport.

It was by far the strangest new year’s experience I had ever had, but good nonetheless.

…

Upon returning to my apartment on January 1st, I encountered an old Italian man in the metro station by the name of Hadriano. He just wanted directions at first (something I still have some trouble giving in Italian), but when he asked where I was from and I replied “Alberta, Canada”, he guessed my city. When I asked him how he knew, he said he had an opportunity to work there once, but passed it up to go to Taiwan and Thailand and teach. He later told me that he has since learned Mandarin and that his birth day was the same as mine (albeit 46 years older)! This had to more than a coincidence, so we exchanged numbers and said we would celebrate together. What a way to start the new year.

... a funny ride

2007-12-22T20:09:00.000-08:00

"Life is a funny ride with different people along the way".

- Christine Wong (a friend from Edmonton)

A Week Before Christmas

2007-12-22T19:58:00.000-08:00

From last Friday to this past one, my first semester at the Politecnico di Milano closed with a resparked interest in the concept of “Strategic Design”, and the program I’m enrolled in.

It began with a lecture from an Italian-Canadian who formerly worked in the banking industry as a technology forecaster. He talked about technology parks, business strategy and the importance of matrices in analysis (I’m now convinced they are too). It was great to know that despite all the cynicism and doubts, I could still find some hope.

Friday evening I went to Caffe Carribe, danced, and learned my German friends would be leaving Milan that weekend. It was a bit of shock, because I thought they were staying here for a year as well. I walked home that night, and did a lot of thinking.

That weekend saw my Indonesian classmate leave the program in favour of an alternative program in the Netherlands. As I mentioned, a lot of us have been having doubts about the program, so this was not unexpected.

On the Sunday, I went to a salsa club in the south of Milan that I’d never been to before, for the goodbye party of my German friends. The experience reminded me a lot of my sudden departure from the salsa scene in Shanghai last year, and what my relationships there meant.

...

December 17th, Monday morning, after a skype meeting, and arranging some initial tasks and timelines, I officially started the job I was offered in Shanghai. That day was also the first day that I officially entered into the globalized business world- working in Milan for a company in Shanghai.

In the evening, some classmates organized a Christmas party. Although I went, my mind was still at work. A lot that would need to be done before the new year.

I arrived home earlier than my roommates and went straight to work. We all slept very late that night, waking up the one Lativan roommates who hadn’t come to the party. As a consequence, the next day, the relationship between the Latvian and my Chilean roommate changed, probably for good. The Latvian resorted to securing his own things (including the speakers which we all had used), and buying more furniture for ‘his’ space. The Chilean decided that day that it was probably best that he leave in the new year. I think that was also the first day that I called him “the drama king”. Ah, the crazy life of student residencies.

Wednesday through Friday were school days filled with theories, matrices and decreasing student attendence. Call me one of the geeks in the class, but I found more reasons to attend and at least try to pay attention, no matter how easy it was to fall asleep.

Thursday evening some of us went for Aperitivo (free food in select restaurants, a tradition in Milan) to celebrate a classmate’s birthday. Friday evening I went for salsa one last time before Christmas. Two of my roommates joined, which really changed the mood for me, but it was nice to show them that side of my life.

Today I spent the day eating out and Chirstmas shopping with one of the secretaries from my department. A really talented Chinese girl, who has lived in Milan for 8 years, but doesn’t like Italy, and speaks 7 languages. Crazy! She won’t be back next semester, but I’m getting used to this.

Tomorrow, it’s off to Germany to celebrate Christmas with my godfather and his family. My first Christmas away from home…

isn't fair...

2007-12-13T14:50:00.000-08:00

"World-class success requires that you grow up emotionally and come to terms with the fact that life isn't fair and success isn't free."

- Steve Siebold

Informal Lessons and Plans

2007-12-13T14:27:00.000-08:00

Last week’s Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were largely dedicated to my group’s first major project. Lots of research, ideas, discussion, debate and emotions. I’d say my major role was that of secretary and facilitator. A role I felt I had to take on almost by default. It brought back memories of my old days at APIRG.

Our group presented our concept along with the other three groups in the class that Thursday. There were many things about our group dynamics that really opened my eyes to a lot of issues that I never took much notice of before. I think I gained a new appreciation for management, and an understanding of why English teachers are in such demand world-wide.

Over lunch, I had a great discussion about relationships with the same Indian classmate/cousin/temporary roommate as before, that echoed my sentiments that I had when I wrote my last posting for my The Road Not Taken blog. The most memorable line he said was (pretty close to an exact quote): "Make sure the relationships you put your efforts into are clear. Because if they are not clear, your whole world will be screwed up." What a cousin.

That evening I also had some sense knocked into me by my Chilean roommate in a passionate speech about social expectations and money. I don’t really have a quote of his, but the general idea was that I don’t take these two things seriously enough. To use some of his words, I’m “like an animal” (refering to my tendency to eat just about anything) and should be more concerned about being remembered as the guy who eats like one. I think this was the first time I saw myself this way. What a roommate.

Friday was a holiday in Milan. St. Ambrogio day. All my roommates left the city for Naples and Riga (Latvia), leaving me alone, with the apartment to myself. I couldn’t stand the thought of staying home the entire weekend because of a lack of funds. So, I did the only logically thing: rely on credit. A thing that I feel I’ve been doing too much here, but the best way I think I could have managed. It’s times like this that I both love and hate “the system”.

I met my newfound German friends from salsa that afternoon. We had coffee and then explored the old castle market (where only tourists apparently go). I didn’t know this until I met them that day, but they’re part of a larger expate German babysitter community (some more of which we met in the market). It was a really stange discovery for me, which is why I include it here.

We spent a good hour or so there, then I got lost. Typical. Luckily, I found some of my classmates and stayed with them the rest of the time. All I could really say about that, was food. A lot of food! This is indeed what Italy is known for. I bought roasted chestnuts (which I happen to hate now), and the others got a lot of food from Sicily. Once again, as my junior high french teacher would say, it was “to die for”. In the evening, we went to another classmate’s houseparty, where a bunch of us stayed overnight, dancing a bit of salsa, eating small sandwiches and watching home-made videos.

The next day, I tried to go the salsa congress I mentioned earlier, but gave it up when I realized it would have been too hard to get to in time. And it was probably a good thing that I did.

When I got back to my apartment, the Romanian girl who I met last year in Modena messaged me. After coordinating a trip with a fellow classmate, I made it there the next day.

Being a Sunday in a small Italian town, meant time for church once again. It was cold and raining, so even though there was a market in the central square, the cathedral also seemed a warmer alternative. I met the Romanian girl after the service. She looked different from what I remembered, but it was nevertheless good to see her again. She invited me to her home, where I met her mother and aunt. It was a strangely familiar experience. After a lot of good food, practicing my Italian, and helping to decorate their Christmas tree, I was invited to stay an extra day. I didn’t have a change of clothes with me, but accepted the invitation nevertheless.

The next day, we were visited by my friend’s priest. Naturally, over coffee and later in their church, he told me of the benefits of their religion. It wasn’t done in a demining way, and I didn’t think it was the reason why I was invited to stay an extra day, so I didn’t mind. I even ended up helping to clean their church.

The rest of my time in Modena was spent touring the town, eating and praticing more Italian. Upon, leaving the two of us said we would spend more time together. I really hope so.

On Tuesday, I spent a large part of the day buying things for Christmas, paying off my bus ticket, and cleaning the apartment. In the evening, I went salsa dancing at a place called Tropicana. Although I could only stay for an hour (due to the metro schedule), it was a really nice time.

On Wednesday, I woke up with a very heavy head, that grew into a really bad headache. And to make matters worse, a good portion of the morning class was focused on a discussion about our course. A lot of dissatisfaction on the part of us students. I even took a risk and voiced some of my own concerns. It was nice that our professor, also the director of the program, was open to our opinions. Nevertheless, a lot of doubts remained with us.

On my way back to the apartment, I spoke with a classmate from Brazil and another from Indonesia. They came up with a good metaphor for what we are going through as a group though. It’s like we’re going through military service. We know it’s painful and hard (though not very disciplined), and a lot has to be done on the students’ part to get what we want, but hopefully we are stronger afterwards.

I had a long nap that evening, and woke to the return of my roommates who had gone to Naples.

Today, it was back to normal. Whatever that is.

... what happens to you...

2007-12-03T16:21:00.000-08:00

Life is what happens to you
while you're busy making other plans.

- John Lennon (Beautiful Boy lyrics)

Two Unpredictable Weeks

2007-12-03T16:12:00.000-08:00

Ok, here it goes...

Monday, November 19th, was a day largely of reflection and contemplation for me. I spent the morning getting a few things out of the way before arriving at the library to use the internet. After reading my emails, I spent some time in the park nearby with my thoughts. My conclusion once again, with no further explanation here: life goes on.

I had lunch with my Brazilian classmates, and in the evening I had my first Italian class, half of which were Japanese students.

On Tuesday, a classmate visited our apartment early in the morning to help us with our internet connection, but ended up just having breakfast with us. We spent the rest of the day with my Chilean roommate making our way to IKEA once again to buy some more things. I only bought food. I figured the rest of my furniture could wait.

Wednesday was back to school, and then a surprise meeting of us roommates to talk about eating and buying food. I think that day, the four of us really started to make a commitment to work together. It was a great feeling to know that.

Thursday, I woke up late, but then spent the rest of the day working on a presentation about research on the fur trade in Canada. My Chilean roommate and I stayed up really late that night working on our laptops. It reminded me of my undergraduate years in design, and how much I hated staying up late for our projects. If this really is the life of a designer, I don’t want it.

The next day was a mix of different things. The presentations in the morning went on until 1pm, and the afternoon class was complete write-off as far as formal education goes. I didn’t even know what the “professor” was trying to say (Yes, the “professor”). It was in that period that I re-realized that despite the good efforts and theories of Ezio Manzini, and his close group in academia, this course in strategic design is by and large another do-what-you-want-and-learn-by-yourself-as-long-as-you-repeat-abstract-concepts-and-someone-else-thinks-it’s-important program. I would even go so far as to argue that this is the new credo of the design industry, and why it’s killing the profession, but I won’t now.

Anyway, what saved my sanity that afternoon, was a deep conversation with a fellow classmate next to me about meaning and control. Despite the fact that we were sitting right in the front of the class, and paid no attention to the “professor” (as did most of the class), it was then that I also re-realized the importance of learning from my fellow students. I think this is where I will gain the most from this program.

That evening I went to Caffe Caribe by myself. My Chilean roommate (who ironically doesn’t like salsa) managed to convince the rest of our class (and almost me too) that it wasn’t worth going to. I’m glad I didn’t listen. It was great. A lot like On the Rocks back in Edmonton, and Zapatas in Shanghai. A big space and a tile floor with a lot of people (mostly Italians). I was welcomed in by an older lady from Calabria, and just continued to meet people from then on. Most of the dancers weren’t as good as I expected them to be, but there were of course some really outstanding dancers, and a generally friendly Italian atmosphere (take that to mean: fashion statements, showing off, and a lot of yelling). There was also a performance, and news about the Cavalese salsa congress. Ah! Another congress! I really didn’t expect that. If I can afford to go by then, I’ll be there.

I spent much of the night with two girls from Germany that told me a lot about the salsa scene here. Apparently, there are two other places to go to during the week, and the only day with no salsa is Monday. I love it.

Early the next morning (around 4am), I walked home in the rain and ran into one of my Brazilian classmates along the way.

The highlight of Saturday was a dinner-party at our apartment. The food was prepared by a French classmate of one of my Latvian roommates, and was really good. The evening was a mix of interesting conversation and a hesitation to carry on the party experience late into the night. After traveling half the way by Metro with two of my roommates, I decided to get off and go back to the apartment. I wasn’t in the mood for another really late night.

Sunday, we all got up late. My routine was partly changed because of that, as well as a bus detour in Affori (where the library, churches and hostel are). There was a huge street market taking place with food, clothes, balloons, and tuner-cars and go-karts on the side. The market made me really happy and made me think more about what it is I really want to do for work. Design?… exhibitions… conferences… sharing ideas… meeting people… communication… I love that.

I walked through the market once again on my way back to the apartment, and returned with two bags and a remaining four euros. That’ll be my reserve until at least the end of the week.

In the evening, I had a great conversation with my Chilean roommate about design, design education, and our careers. It’s times like that that I really appreciate living with him.

...

The past five weekdays were a complete mix of things, good and bad. Most concerning of all (now unsurprisingly) was that Internet was down in all the public libraries.

On Monday, my Chilean roommate and I spent a good part of the day playing “housewife”. On Tuesday, I cancelled an evening of salsa to complete a design project that I finally started to enjoy. On Wednesday, Internet was installed in our apartment, but didn’t work on my computer for some reason. That day, I really took offense to something my Chilean roommate said, and despite the fact that we had to deal with our landlords, both of us stayed in a tense state of anger with each other until he left that evening to join some of his friends. On Thursday, he didn’t come to school, because he found out that his bank account in Chile had been cleared. That day, he also started to look for flights to return home. Once I got back to the apartment that evening, both of us reconciled our differences, and refocused on this more pressing problem. The next day, although he found out he’d been robbed, he also found out that he didn’t need to fly home. Although he was actually excited to return, I think it’s better that he didn’t have to. He really belongs here, and I think he’ll become something big.

Thursday was an important day for me as well, because that day our class was invited to a conference. (Yes, another conference. And yes, I love them). And the food of course, was amazing. One of the sessions I naturally went to was on mobility. Coming out of it, I felt like I had learned so much. After classes in the afternoon, I skipped my Italian class to return to the apartment to speak with my Chilean roommate, and then go to the conference dinner at a now-popular “slow food” restaurant. It was there that I really got to meet other people from around Europe and the US in the field of technology transfer and sustainable development, and take part in a lot of good discussions about “sustainability”, “innovation”, China, Italy, and dance. Yes, I had to include that. I even managed to convince three people at my table to join me the following night.

Before leaving, I spoke with an American from the mobility session who had used the phrase “reverse technology transfer”. A great idea in my opinion. We told each other our stories of how we ended up where we were, and after hearing mine he ‘took his hat off to me’ for being so courageous. I felt honored and a little embarrassed to hear a guy more than twice my age say something like that, but I think it was another sign that despite the hardships, I may be traveling on the right road after all. I’ll take that as a blessing.

…

This past weekend was a combination of: salsa; a Saturday night that ran until six in the morning (and coming home to a broken bathroom door that now swings open from the top (don’t ask)); borrowing money; surviving on beans, tomatoes, onions and left-overs; chores; bargaining with my roommates for their food; being labeled “the poor grandfather” in the apartment; being labeled “the peacekeeper” for a group project my Chilean roommate and I are working on; inviting our new fifth roommate (an Indian from our class that needs to find a new apartment), thanking him for helping me with my internet connection problem and then saying goodbye to him the following day (he decided to stay at another roommate’s apartment for logistic reasons); getting caught on the bus for not having a ticket (yes, that’s probably pretty bad being in a foreign country); celebrating one of our Latvian roommate’s nameday with cake and cookies (my new source of carbs).

Before returning to the apartment after my Italian class this evening, I ran into my Indian classmate as he exited the bus carrying the luggage he had brought to our apartment. We stopped to talk for a while. He reminds me a lot of my Indian cousins, and I think he shares the same kind of comfort with me. He was in a really stressful state, as I have been with money and the lack of a decent internet connection. However, his situation might have been worse, but I felt I could relate to him. Oddly enough, it was in that moment that I felt I understood why I was here in Milan.

...

P.S. I think at this point, I need to come to terms with another reality: time. I have a feeling that with school, possible work, and the many unexpected complications that seem to come with living in Milan, I may not be able to write as much or as often once again. Nevertheless, I will whenever I can. I’ve discovered that blogging is now more of a hobby for me than just a communication or memory tool.

New Roommates, Design & Dance

2007-11-19T01:51:00.000-08:00

Last Monday, my roommate and I were accompanied by two Latvian student artists. Quite different from the two of us, but at least from the perspective of rent, necessary. The evening and the following day were largely spent helping them get settled in. It was a strange experience in a way. Being the native English speaker in the group, almost by default, I became the acting head of the household. That day, I created some of the ground rules and got to know my new roommates in a way I feel my godfather would.

Wednesday, it was back to school again, for a very long day of an “Empowerment” class and more introduction presentations. How I love school.

After Thursday’s classes, I took an Italian language test (with no preparation), just to see how much I’ve forgotten and need to know. The answer: a lot. But I don’t think getting back into the language will be nearly as difficult as learning Mandarin.

My roommate, a Russian classmate and I had dinner that night in the ‘design’ district of town. It was good, but nothing you couldn’t find elsewhere.

By the end of Friday’s classes, I realized that although I’m enrolled in a masters program, the same type of people remain as every other educational program I’ve been in: the smart, the proud, the teacher’s pets, the clueless, the troublemakers, the weird, the quiet, the happy-go-luckies, and me.

That evening, a bunch of us visited a “design library club” and had aperitivo (the only type of evening meal that is reasonably priced in Milan). While there, I invited the group to my apartment for yet another party. This time, it was organized by our new Latvian roommates. It was a quieter party, with “ambient” music and a lot of cigarettes. Near the end of the night, I had to set the limit and say no more. The next morning, the new roommates agreed it was too much. It’s going to be really challenging living with my roommates for many reasons, but I’m not afraid of it.

Saturday was a mix of things from shopping to email, and exploring downtown. It was also the day, my Chilean roommate officially became my fashion designer and critic.

And on Sunday, he accompanied me for my morning routine. We ended up roaming around another ‘design’ district and going into a ‘designer’ store with super-weird and super-expensive things (Eg: a wallet there cost €1500. €1500! When was the last time you had €1500 in your wallet? The wallet costs more than the money you’d put in it!). After that, we explored the complete opposite side of the city of design: Chinatown. It was a nice break from the superfluous, and a nice reminder of my life one month ago. In the process, I found my first dance destination in Milan. A hall by the name of Caffe Caribe. Fridays being “Latino Americano” night. Man, am I excited!

... indeed a mystery

2007-11-19T01:45:00.000-08:00

We never know whether our 'forks in the path' have been the best ones to take, until we have a chance to 'look back' at them.

Even then, sometimes it's difficult for me to tell.

But we all must just keep moving forward happily; holding onto our own counsel and keeping faith with ourselves and our creator that this is the path we are meant to walk.

Life is indeed a mystery.

-David Faling

New Introductions, Possibilities & Perspectives

2007-11-12T05:59:00.000-08:00

On November 7th, it was back to school again. It was also the first day I stopped living out of my suitcase. My roommate and I were late in coming to class because my watch, which I thought was working well after changing its battery twice in two countries, was slow. Luckily, the class was still doing introductions when we arrived. The teacher? Ezio Manzini.

He looked just as I remembered him from the previous year, although his white hair was a bit longer. By the end of his class, I felt reinvigorated by the potential of designers to help change the world. The cynicism I felt at the beginning of the course was now for the most part gone.

After a quick lunch with an Indian classmate, and the discovery of a really cheap supermarket near the university, the afternoon and evening classes were held, and more introductions made.

Thursday began with me coming late to class by myself. Luckily, it was another introduction period that I interrupted. Unluckily, what followed where 6 hours of “organizational theory”, with a break for lunch. Somebody please help me.

Friday, was a bit of a different day. Public transit was supposed to be on strike (they schedule their strikes here, crazy eh?), but I didn’t really think it would effect me much, since I had a meeting to talk about my internship before class. It turns out that I actually might be able to take on the job in Shanghai while completing my masters in Milan. I might even be able to do it as part of my masters, but we’ll see.

Classes begun that day with Ezio Manzini. His class went overtime by half an hour. The topic covered was well-being and how designers play a role in defining it. I won’t go into any detail about it here, but the later portion of the class was dedicated to the same idea I have been working with since the start of my first blog:

“If you really want to make a difference in the world of development,… go to China. If China can adopt sustainable development practices, so will the rest of the world”.

Again, this is not exactly what he said, but for the purpose of consistency, I’ll leave it at that.

I needed to go to the post office that day, so I missed half of the next class in order to do that. Luckily, it was “organizational theory” again, so I didn’t feel so bad. My roommate and I got a ride to our apartment by another classmate in her BMW that afternoon. I stayed up really late that night writing to my old dancepartner.

My Saturday morning was filled with things to do. Friday was the Indian holiday Devali , so I had an Indian buffet with a classmate and a girl who looked a bit like the Bollywood actress Aishwarya. I think it was the first time I ever thought an Indian girl was really beautiful. I spent the rest of the day looking for a gym.

Yesterday, a lot happened. And it was a Sunday! In the morning, while discussing our plans for the day, I realized something about my roommate: He’s a real designer. His ideas and passion for the subject are amazing. He’s working on a retail space competition that’s due in a few days and I honestly think he will win, if not at least get some kind of honorable mention. His resume already has a few of those. His only problem is communicating his ideas. After visiting the cathedral, Eritrean church, and the hostel later that afternoon, I returned to the apartment with some clearer thoughts of why I think that, and also where my strength is. It is not design, but communication. And I think this experience living with him will help me understand the meaning of that better. Despite the initial (and still potent culture-clashes), I think having him as a roommate may indeed be a “blessing”. His final undergraduate design thesis was an electric city-car system. Talk about good fortune!

My soon-to-be Sunday routine of visiting the cathedral, Eritrean church, and the hostel turned out to be more than just time for contemplation though. At the hostel, I was once again invited to eat with some of the staff, and after already having lunch with the Eritreans, the pasta seemed too much, but I couldn’t say no. I met a pair of Latvians there who apparently were looking for an apartment, so I took them to see ours. It turned out they were interested, and wanted to move in the next day! Crazy. My roommate had just finished an advertisement in search of someone, but said he didn’t expect someone so soon. They are to arrive again today. Crazy.

After the Latvians left, my roommate and I spent the next two hours or so cleaning the apartment for our house-warming party. Most of the people from our class came, as did the Latvians, and a few others. It was a great time. I’ve never helped organize a party like that before, but I think there’ll be more.

Before School Begins Again

2007-11-06T06:08:00.000-08:00

Sunday, October 29th was fairly uneventful, as I assume most Sundays in Italy will be. The famous slow pace of the country was definitely most pronounced that day. Shops were closed, public transportation less frequent, and the attitude of the people I encountered similar to the Chinese phrase “Have a rest”. With things at a stand still, and no where to go or people to see, I did the only logical thing: I went to church.

After mass at a nearby Cathedral, I encountered an old lady who insisted she tell me something about the history of the area. She ended up taking me by the arm and showing me the neighbourbood park and library. The later of which proved to be really helpful. I now had a library card, and one hour of free internet service at any public library in Milan thanks to my self-proclaimed “Nona di Milano”.

The next day was supposed to be Antonio’s last at the hostel, so we said our goodbyes in the morning, as I changed trains to go have lunch with a classmate. The rest of the day from there consisted largely of apartment planning, shopping, and because of the company I was with, discussions about the significance of design and innovation. Somebody please help me.

Until the evening, the whole day seemed a bit off. But, when I returned to my room in the hostel, I was taken by surprise. Antonio was still there. Before he could explain, I gave him a big hug. I don’t know why I was so happy, but I was. Apparently, he had missed his train. Good, I thought. We ate roasted chestnuts together and I had pizza with the hostel staff.

Antonio actually did leave the next day. For that afternoon, it was pretty much just me and the staff in the hostel. Because the search for an apartment seemed like it was going nowhere, I used the time to make my phone calls in much the same way I did when I first started my research project in Shanghai. By 6pm, I had managed to arrange four appointments for the next day. By 9pm, with the arrival of a classmate from Chile who needed to change hostels (he had been staying in another hostel for an entire month), we had five.

From 10am to 5:30pm on Halloween, my Chilean classmate and I went vigorously around the city from appointment to appointment. The last place we ended up at was ironically the agency of the first apartment we had seen together with two other South American classmates the week before. Something hadn’t really felt right about all the places we had seen, and despite my efforts to look at our options “objectively” using “The Decision Maker” (see the book Get Smarter by Seymour Schulich for more on that), it seemed like we were only settling for this apartment.

Now, I don’t know if this was fate, luck or what, but at the same time we were there, I received a call from one of the other classmates who had said they thought they had found a good apartment for us, which just so happened to be the same one I had looked at myself the Saturday before. When one of the owner’s of the apartment called me, without hesitation, I said we wanted it. We quickly finished our dealings with the agency we were with, and spent the rest of the evening wandering the centre of the city, celebrating our potential new apartment and contemplating our ability to pay the rent. We spent the evening at the hostel supported Halloween party. I don’t think either of us really felt we fit in, but it was nice to see.

The next day the two of us saw the apartment together. It was all up to my Chilean classmate at this point as to whether or not we would take it. Fortunately, despite the cost of rent being a little more than what we hoped to spend, we both agreed it was the best option. For me, I discovered that in apartment shopping, the people you will deal with actually make or break the deal. In this case, the landloards seem trustworthy, so I feel more at ease with the choice. The place is big for two people, but I’m sure we can find another roommate to lessen the burden of rent. Our afternoon was spent at IKEA. Even for the few necessities we’ll need (like beds), we could be spending up to €500. Man, Milan is expensive.

When we returned to the hostel, I read a few of the emails I had saved to my computer (internet still isn’t the easiest to come by). One was from a friend I had met in Shanghai. Her email read like a letter from a penpal, but there were two parts I thought were really thought-provoking. The first part that I wanted to share is the quote I’ve put before this posting. The second part is an interesting take on knowledge (her English corrected): “I think studying too hard is not a good thing. It means that you easily become a slave to the study, not the master of it.” I’ve never thought of it like that before.

The next email was regarding the job offer in Shanghai. It seems like the project is a go ahead. The only problem is that now I’ve set myself up to live in Milan. I talked to my future roommate about it, and strangely enough, he convinced me that the job is worth it. I’ve since thought that maybe the best thing to do is to indeed combine the two (as was suggested to me before at the Alberta Scholarship Office). It’s still something that has to be worked out in detail, and if it’s even possible, and even if it was, it would make things extremely challenging for me, but I’ve come to believe that these aren’t things I can’t do.

That evening, a bunch of us at the hostel made and ate our last meal together. The food was nothing more than spaghetti and defrosted vegetables, but it was the best food I’d had in a while. I think I really do like cooking.

The next day was all about preparing to move. My roommate and I signed the contract, and even though the place still has yet to be cleaned, and we now had the apartment. The first night belonged to me, as my roommate needed to go to Turino to get some of his things.

Saturday was a day pretty much to myself. I spent it window shopping along the main street near the apartment. I got to meet some of my neighbours and then prepared an early dinner for myself with some of the remaining food the previous occupants had left (Most of it unopened or unwrapped, so I think it was ok).

In the evening, I didn’t know what to do, so I took a stroll down the same street, but in the opposite direction, ending up in what seemed like an abandoned railyard. The kind of place a normal person probably wouldn’t wander into alone, but it’s me. I made it almost to the end where the high walls on both sides seemed to merge, but stopped when the weeds got too thick and the area too dangerous. Despite the environment, and my unknown ambitions for venturing there, it provided a good moment of contemplation and relief.

When I got back to the apartment, I went to sleep on the top floor (to test it out). Around midnight, I was awaken by an intruder. Apparently, he was a friend of one of the previous occupants and needed to stay one last night in the apartment. I didn’t have a choice, so spent the night with a stranger in the basement. The next morning he left just before the landlords and a cleaning lady came.

Being a Sunday, but already noon, I ventured back to my old hostel (with the intention of using the internet, but ending up just saying “Ciao” to one of the staff people). Next to the hostel is an Eritrean church. So, as a social sciences minor (anthropology being my favorite of the disciplines), I observed the ending of their traditional Sunday ceremony. Surprisingly similar to that of the Sikh tradition, everyone gathered together to enjoy lunch. This consisted of sitting outside and waiting for servers to hand out bread, sweet tea, and bananas. I had no money in my wallet at this point, and was still resisting making yet another international withdrawal, so part of me wanted to stick around, only to get some food. And in a matter of speaking, my prayer was answered. An old man who introduced himself as Zagai (pronounced Za-guy,… I love that name) insisted that I be fed. The food was simple and the portion small, but the invitation to return and the humility that came with it was more than what I expected. Later that afternoon, my roommate returned, and we spent our time starting to organize the apartment and eating Chinese food.

Yesterday, I spoke with the guy who wanted to give me the design job while in Shanghai. It seems like I might still be able to do it from Milan. In his words, “We’re all working globally now”. Yeah, and it’s pretty crazy if you ask me.

Around lunch, I returned to the university to receive some mail from my dad with the documents I need to get my student loan. I attended to email and related internet matters before my roommate and I decided to go out and buy some furniture. After carrying mattresses literally on our backs (at least for me) from a local mattress supplier, we made our way to IKEA once more. While there, we got a call from our landlords wondering where we were. They were waiting for us in our apartment to finish signing some contracts and go through some final details, but we were too far away to come even reasonably late, so we rescheduled and took our time coming back. It was on our return and that evening in the apartment that I really began to notice the significant differences between my roommate and me. I know I have only just begun to get to know him, but I think it will also be challenge to live with him. Part of it is language, and part of it is culture. But, we’ll just have to see.

Today, one of his old hostelmates arrived for a visit, or possibly to stay with us. Tomorrow, school begins once again. I tell you, it’s a crazy life in the real world.

... a process of compromising to the real world

2007-11-06T06:05:00.000-08:00

“I think life is a process of compromising to the real world, where you gradually give up your hopes and dreams. But I still want to keep them in my heart, though they may only be daydreams.”

– adapted from Cathy (a friend in Shanghai)

The First Week in Milan

2007-10-28T07:22:00.000-07:00

I met my old dancepartner at the metro station in the morning of October 21st. We took a taxi to nearest shuttle bus station and made it to the airport with enough time to have breakfast together and say our last goodbyes. I will hold the memory of that moment in my mind forever.

…

The flight to Milan was direct and long. I sat next to a Chinese guy who couldn’t speak English, and surrounded by Italians and Chinese alike. I must have been the only foreigner to both countries aboard the Alitalia flight. During the flight, I witnessed a man suffocate a few rows in front and receive all the medical attention he could get. I watched Shriek the Third (man I love Shriek), and was entertained by the Michael Buble of stewards (both in looks and charisma). I arrived at the Milano Centrale train station late that evening and stayed in the first hotel I found vacancy with.

The next morning I made it to the Politecnico di Milano once again, luggage and all, and collected all the necessary documents and information I needed in order to stay in Italy as a student. I spent the rest of the day exploring the neighbouring streets in search of a bank, cellphone provider, post office, and an internet café.

Now, coming to Italy this time around was probably the least prepared I have ever been for any trip. This was largely because if I could have avoided it, I would have liked to skip the whole idea of going back to school. Especially a design school. I have grown extremely skeptical of design schools over the years and honestly think the entire discipline is being misguided, but that is another topic for another time and another place. In the meantime, I still have a potential job offer in Shanghai on the table, but I’m not counting on it.

Being unprepared has however meant that the only Euros I had were those that I got in exchange for the 83 American dollars I had with me. A whopping 40-some Euros. Anyway, that meant that I needed to find an ATM that accepted Visa or resort to Western Union, because apparently the hostel I planned to stay in only accepted cash. That had me running down the same neighboring streets where I swore I saw a Western Union. It turned out that there was none, but luckily for me, I had just enough money to pay for one night. So, sparing any transportation expenses, I made it to the hostel, luggage and all, with just enough time to pay for the night.

The hostel is in a reconverted building that used to be a hospital, and the surrounding area has a park closed off by a high wall. When I arrived that evening, I walked through an unlit path through the trees with a warm yellow light at the end. Just like walking through an enchanted forest from Zelda, no joke. In front of the entrance stood a man who seemed to be waiting for me that I would later come to know as Gabriele, or Gabo. I spent the rest of the evening talking with him about everything from girls to God. The night ended with an introduction to a woman who I would later call Mimma.

On the 23rd, I spent the whole morning getting my Codice Fiscale (Italian tax code) and meeting an American English teacher in the process. I spent the rest of the day exploring the tourist sites of the center of the city, the Duomo and a castle, only because they were on the way to the post office, batteries and ice cream.

That evening I spent some time with Mimma, a 32 year old Siclian in search of work, Antonio, a 23 year old Sicilian in search of work, and Gabo, a 35 year old from Turino. Each one a real character. Gabo, a bit like Faramir from The Lord of the Rings; Antonio, a living example of dynamic, expressive Italian speakers that stereotypes are derived from; Mimma, the mother of our group, much like the Portuguese girls I had known in elementary.

The 24th was the first day of classes. Introductions, a buffet lunch, and a campus tour. Whether it was because I was back in school, back in design school, or just unprepared, I’m not sure, but I felt the most cynical that I have ever felt that day.

The following day didn’t really lift that feeling from me, but I learned that some of my fellow students had similar sentiments as one of the lectures seemed almost too ideal and out of the realm of traditional design. Even for me.

After class, I accompanied some of my South American classmates to look for an apartment. That evening was Gabo’s last in Milan. An older guy with the enthusiasm and concern for things typical of someone ten years younger.

Friday morning, Antonio was supposed to wake up earlier than all of us, which he did, to go to his newfound work. His only problem was that he went right back to sleep once he stood up. Needless to say, he didn’t go to work that day. It was my third day of school, but also the start of a Milanese holiday. So, that means no school for 10 days. Great…

That evening brought a new face to the hostel. Carlo, an Italian-Canadian actor from Montreal. Nice guy. Carlo, Mimma, Antonio and I all ate pizza and talked until late in the night. From my memory of Italy last year, and my experiences here so far, I think communication will be a much greater issue than in Shanghai. I think the Italians are too proud of their language and their heritage, but I can’t blame them.

Yesterday, I woke up early in the morning to some guy yelling praises to the Lord. Mimma and Antonio laughed when I tried to ask what was happening in my poor Italian. I spent the later morning with Mimma touring the neighbourhood and walking through the streetmarket (remarkably similar to the one I went to in Shanghai). After lunch, we said our goodbyes and she returned to Sicily. I saw another apartment, and then had dinner with the staff in the hostel. Carlo left early the next morning, but before he did he said to me, “Now you’re going to have to make it on your own, as you always have”. I wasn’t completely sure what to say to that, but I think somehow he knew the road I am taking.

... a series of pulls back and forth

2007-10-28T07:17:00.000-07:00

Life is a series of pulls back and forth.
You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else.
Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t.
You take certain things for granted,
even when you know you should never take anything for granted.

A tension of opposites,
like a pull on a rubber band.
And most of us live somewhere in the middle.

Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.
A wrestling match.
You could describe life that way.

Which side wins?...

Love wins.
Love always wins.

- adapted from Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom

Lost in Shanghai

2007-10-28T06:54:00.000-07:00

From the day I left Edmonton, early in the morning on September 4th, until the 20th of the same month, I kept a semi-detailed account of my experiences and thoughts, with the purpose of eventually starting this new blog in a similar fashion to the last two. That didn’t happen for a few reasons:

For one, I didn’t actually end up feeling so much like I was starting a new chapter in my life, as I was trying to catch up on lost time.

Two, settling in this time around in Shanghai proved to be a little less than easy, and the array of things I wanted to accomplish too overwhelming for me to focus my mind on trying to summarize them all into blog postings.

And three, I was living each day with such uncertainty and solitude, that I didn’t really know how to manage my time all that well (although I did eventually develop a bit of a routine).

But, if I had to summarize my time in Shanghai this time around into one word, it would be this: lost. Lost in time, purpose and relationships. There were some very important things I had left up in the air when I had left Shanghai the first time, that all sort of came together this time to make me accept something I now in hindsight realize I had treated too lightly in the past: life goes on. For those I care for, as well as myself.

Now I have learned, hopefully for the last time, what things are worth giving priority and taking responsibility for, and what things I just have to let be. I cannot even begin to describe the struggle here, but for the purpose of visual communication, I’ve posted the following images tell some parts of the story…

…

In my next post, I will start the next chapter of my life that started on October 21st. The day I left Shanghai to return to Milan.

On the advice of one of my brothers and the need for some big changes in my life, I will attempt to write my postings in a different style: half diary, half poetry.