Thumbnail: Three drinks
Thumbnail: My clam appetizer
Thumbnail: Jazz night
Thumbnail: Scallop entree
Thumbnail: Tuna sushi
Thumbnail: Chinese food
Thumbnail: Pecan pie
Thumbnail: Guinness in a bottle
Thumbnail: Bath feets
Thumbnail: Fire hydrant
Thumbnail: Frozen river
Thumbnail: Fungus
Thumbnail: Cosmo horoscope
Thumbnail: Live free or die license plate
Thumbnail: The bed in my room

What an over­whelm­ing experience.

There was barely any time to explore; we took one walk and pretty much stayed within a 10km radius. Too much read­ing, test­ing, and meet­ing to do any­thing else. It felt like the time went fly­ing by, yet dragged on, the longer I was from home.

There’s some­thing about being away. Being iso­lated from your rou­tine and every­thing that’s famil­iar. It’s a dif­fer­ent set of stimuli.

As an intro­vert, you fall back on mem­o­ries and past expe­ri­ences, and it dri­ves reflec­tion and re-evaluation.

I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t affect me. I learned more about myself in the last two weeks than I did in the last year, and I’ll be writ­ing about it for weeks, if not months.

A Change of Personalities

It was the peo­ple who had the most impact on me. There were the ones in my lit­tle clique, a group of client spe­cial­ists in train­ing. All con­fi­dent, extro­verted, empa­thetic peo­ple. There was much to admire in them.

Then there was the upper ech­e­lon. Vice-presidents, lab pres­i­dents, big-wigs who spoke with weight in their words. You thank them for tak­ing you to din­ner, and they thank you in turn by telling you that your com­pany was a plea­sure. It was inspir­ing to observe how effort­lessly they carry them­selves with grace and charisma.

There was one in par­tic­u­lar, the national sales man­ager, a true gen­tle­man about 60, who really stood out. At first, he was the most intim­i­dat­ing per­son there; one of those exec­u­tives whose time is worth gold. His wingtips were always pol­ished to the point of reflec­tion (“you have to sell your­self before you can sell your prod­uct”, he would say).

During his full-day lec­ture he kept giv­ing me props and high-fives when I answered his questions.

What kind of busi­ness are we in, Jeff?”

An annu­ity business.”

BINGO!”, and he’d put his fist out for me to tap.

Maybe it was because I was by far the youngest in the class. He had the abil­ity con­nect with any­one, regard­less of their age, expe­ri­ence, or sta­tus. He didn’t just teach us about per­sonal empa­thy, he lived it. At the very end, I had the plea­sure of a lit­tle one-on-one time with him.

Compliments

The nicest thing that any­one said to me was that I should go into sales.

He felt that I had the out­go­ing, con­fi­dent per­son­al­ity and empa­thy that’s required. Little did he know that it was the per­sona I adapted around the group.

He also didn’t know that it’s some­thing that it drains me rather quickly, but it was nice of him to say so.

Another per­son saw my pho­tos in my screen saver and said that my can­did shots cap­tured quin­tes­sen­tial moments and emo­tions. Then he started telling other peo­ple about them and show­ing them off, which was espe­cially com­pli­men­tary. I inspired him to take up pho­tog­ra­phy, he said, so I gave him a small course on the basics.

A New Friend

There was one per­son, more than 15 years my senior, with whom I got along espe­cially well, to the point where we were shar­ing old sto­ries and con­fi­dences. Part of it was the fact that I could make him laugh. Humor is usu­ally how I relate to peo­ple. While we were wait­ing at the air­port, he thought some­thing I said was so funny that he had to call his friend to tell him right there before he for­got it. He had the con­fi­dent, people-person energy, and I drew from that. It was only when we traded per­sonal con­tact info before leav­ing that I felt as if my trip was complete.

Misplaced Luggage

My suit­case was nowhere to be found on the lug­gage belt at the air­port on the way back. I was rerouted because of a bunch of air traf­fic delays, and the suit­case was mis­placed in the process, although they found and deliv­ered it yes­ter­day. My favourite dress-shirts and sweaters were in there, and I was com­pletely depressed when I thought they were lost.

I never real­ized how emo­tion­ally attached I was to my clothes.

I had a ton of stuff packed in that suit­case — includ­ing a beau­ti­ful cK toi­letries bag that was given to me as a gift, and the per­fect DKNY groom­ing kit I haven’t seen since pur­chas­ing it — but I didn’t care about any­thing else except the shirts and sweaters. It’s frus­trat­ingly dif­fi­cult for me to find ones that fit my style and frame. And when you dress based on mood, los­ing part of your clothes is like for­get­ting your favourite memories.