Intersections

The humble beginnings of Mark Cuban – billionaire owner of the NBA’s Dallas Mavericks – and how he stumbled into the Texas town 33 years ago flat-broke, sleeping on a beer-stained floor in an apartment with five other guys recently came out.

It’s a nice read that chronicles his rise and how his roommates ultimately fared.  Though none would reach the heights that Cuban is experiencing, they’d pretty much gone through some share of success.  One story that stood out was that of Greg Schipper’s. 

Through the years, Cuban would ask Schipper to join him in his ventures to be his “detail” man, but, he’d continually decline and eventually went on to put up his own digital marketing business. 

Schipper, of course, would have gone on to become a billionaire himself had he stuck around but it’s his outlook that fuels our story.  From the piece:

Does Schipper regret not taking one of Cuban’s job offers?

“I’d lived with Mark and knew what he was like,” Schipper says with a laugh. “Even though I knew never to bet against him, it wasn’t the right career path for me.

“Would I have a G5 (a business jet) now? Maybe. Would I be any happier? I don’t think so. I couldn’t be any happier with my life.”

Mark Cuban and Greg Schipper on the right. Photo courtesy of Mark Cuban

It’s a story that allows me to share a little game I play called “Intersections.”  It’s inspired by Steve Jobs’ connecting the dots backwards and I imagine what things would be like had my life gone a certain way. 

Jobs' full quote on that is this: "You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life." 

I figure we’re shaped by these three factors:  Environment, experience and relationships.  You’ve heard my story:  Had the plane I was flying in from New York when I was a baby crashed on an island of cannibals, I’d be, well, find you appetizing right about now. 

The questions are endless:  If I hadn’t married the wife I have now, who’d I be?  What kind of human would you be, had you not taken that trip that fateful night? 

In the end, I’m grateful for the path I’m on.  It’s the route that has taken me to be who I am now.    

"Would I be any happier?  I don’t think so.  I couldn’t be any happier with my life.” 

Had that plane crashed on Onassis’ island, instead, and I’d have grown up to be a jet-setting playboy billionaire and never would have had the need to write things like this?  Well, then, I’d be one sad baby.  

Varya, a Sense of Purpose and a Father's Love

Pavel Karaulov is a Russian father involved in a story that could be the basis for the next “Taken” sequel in the Liam Neeson franchise.

You see, his 19 year old daughter, Varya, seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth late last month when she’d become silent and was no longer attending her classes at university. 

Pavel’s gravest concern became reality when a message from her a week after was traced to Turkey.  His subsequent investigation led to a startling revelation:  The shy and highly academic sophomore would leave home wearing jeans and boots and “whenever she got to the university, she changed into a hijab, a long-sleeve jacket and a long skirt.”

“That’s something that is shocking,” he said. “I was never told beforehand about that.”

Thus, it seemed, Varya was en route to Syria to join ISIS.

“I’m desperate,” Pavel said, his voice shaking over a crackling Skype call from Moscow early this month. “As soon as I can jump on a plane, I’ll be there.”

It is, of course, lately not been uncommon to hear stories like his (it’s been reported that at least 500 citizens from the UK and 700 from France, for example, have done the same). 

One wonders how seemingly loved, educated and well-adjusted children would give up everything to take up a cause that involves killing others.  Part of the answer seems to lie in this CNN piece: “The recruits are often young -- sometimes disillusioned teenagers trying to find purpose and make their mark.”

Indeed, it’s something I’ve harped about in the past and am in danger of overdoing, but, living life with some sense of purpose is something I’ve wrapped my mind around for quite some time.  Result, perhaps, of being a father and of trying to understand my life that’s at a mid-point.

To avoid – I suppose – for my kids getting a one-way ticket to Libya, I’ve been singular in my determination to instill this thought upon them and, please, do forgive me if you’ve heard this one before:  Tell your child that our goal as parents is to enable them to discover their gifts, passions and purposes in life so they can help others.  Happiness comes as a result.  

Well, one just hopes their interpretation of happiness doesn’t involve beheadings in the name of God. 

The ending to our “Taken” story seems to have taken a turn for the better.  The latest report last week is that Varya had been detained by Turkish authorities near the border with Syria and her father, who is there, is working on her release. 

He’d mentioned she was “very depressed and expressed the desire to return to Moscow."

This one's dedicated to all the fathers out there who'll walk to the ends of the earth for their children. 

Revisiting Empathy

Recently, a business leader I know had shared deeply – crying even – her feelings for people under her.  Wracked by guilt, perhaps, she’d bared how she felt that things were unfair for them.  It was a continuation of her leadership style that has endeared her immensely to those around. 

It had been an emotional outpouring that I’d not witnessed in 14 years of being abroad and was clearly indicative of the stark contrast between the Philippines and Western society.  While the latter reduced almost everything to “zeroes and ones,” the country I’ve called home the past six years has made it all about soul. 

It was empathy, of course, that got her to react that way.  The word that, funnily, seems to have no direct translation into Filipino.  Google translates it to makiramay….that’d be sympathy, of course.   

“Avid” readers of my pieces know that it’s been a recurring theme during my time here.  Lately, though, empathy’s been getting a lot more airplay. 

I’d read about Steve Kerr – rookie coach and whose Golden State Warriors will be playing in the NBA’s finals this week – and how he attributed his leadership skills to his scholar father and having lived and experienced life in countries with poverty. 

A line from it:  The lessons imparted at home and the experiences gained overseas -- "They all got thrown into bathwater and survived," Ann (Steve’s mother) said -- combined to shape Kerr's worldview, foster a sense of empathy and sharpen his interpersonal skills.

chatsports.com

His father would eventually be gunned down in Beirut in 1984 and Steve would go on and channel what he gained to five championships as a player.  It’s a great piece and is worth checking out. 

It mirrors what I’d shared with the executive director of Kara’s school in a talk I’d been asked to give.  I’d revealed how these past six years have been the best of my life - primary the fact that empathy became something Kelly, my wife, finally understood. 

I’d said that it’d been difficult to talk about it in a society too busy figuring out which brand corned beef to buy from the other 19 at that grocery shelf.  “More meaty!!”

Counterintuitively, perhaps, but am truly glad we’re living in a country with great poverty – it does give one a chance to do even a little something about it.  Thus, burdening one with that all-important sense of purpose. 

Kelly, now, has developed dexterity in her communication with house help and has even taken on tutoring a 14 year old pro bono at a school for street kids. 

As for me?  It’s a continuing process, but, I think empathy’s made me a better leader, husband, father and friend.  Steve’s team takes on LeBron James’ Cavs on Thursday and so maybe I’ll catch a bit of the series – smiling as I understand a bit the road he is traveling on.  

Taal, Baguio and Facetripping

Kara's into architecture / interior design and so - like any encouraging dad - we try to do things and visit places that support that.  Found out online about the town of Taal and how they've a number of preserved heritage homes and B&B's open to visit.  

Took the two hour trip down south expecting a quaint little town and was surprised by the number of tourist buses and yuppies with cameras and iPads exploring the town.  Well, there went our quiet sojourn.  We'd been brought back to those 80's movies - stereotyping Japanese tourists with their Nikons. 

We'd been guided by a reverser architect (20 years abroad), Robert Arambulo, who'd fallen in love with the town and bought a dilapidated bahay na bato and turned it into an inn.  I'd been reminded of that Margaret Mead quote about how it's actually small groups of people who make the changes in the world when he'd recounted how it was a circle of them who banded together - with negligible local government support - to come up with a tourism thrust.

Today, it's a collection of about a couple noteworthy restaurants, seven guest homes and the newly opened treasure, Paradores de Taal ("A Place in Time").  

The visitors to the town were still no match, of course, to the horde that invaded Baguio during our January visit.  

In both cases, conversations with locals and others brought out these conclusions:

- Taal and Baguio became closer because of STAR Tollway and the extension of SCTEX, respectively.  

- The booming economy is humming along for certain sectors of society.  

- Because of the BPO industry, millennials are now traveling.  Evidence, perhaps, of that demographic sweet spot they talk about ("....the country was in what some economists call a demographic sweet spot, in which millions of young people will be entering the work force." - NYTimes - Aug. 3, 2014) .  

- It's their generation and we're just getting out of the way of their selfie sticks.  It had been a topic of conversation with my colleagues and something I'm quizzing others about is the fact that social media is driving Filipinos to travel - a mixture of wanting to show off, being envious and that fear of being left behind.  

Unless anybody out there has a better term, we're calling that Facetripping. 

Taking out my crystal ball (no, it's not an app) and I see this traveling trend growing and to locations that are experiential in nature and are, of course, selfie-friendly.    

Dinosaurs and Millennials

If asked to describe myself in one word, it'd be this: Therizinosaurus. Yup, I'm a dinosaur.  

www.walkingwith.wikia.com

There's a nagging feeling I'd fit fine if I was born 40 years earlier.  I'll cover a bit more about this shortly, but, for now I'd like to share about a forwarded article from my father in which in his own jejemon style ordered me: Write something.  

  

Its main points:

- By 2020, there will be 4 billion people connected to the internet.

- Renting is up, buying is down:  Music, movies TV shows, even games and books are moving towards an access model.  

- It's an On-Demand Economy:  On-demand food, shelter and transportation (Uber, Lyft, etc) are the obvious ones.y 2020, there will be 4 billion people connected to the internet.

Closer to home, I'd experienced the whole social media thing (note my misplaced tone of indifference) when out of exasperation in recruiting for potential employees for our manpower outsourcing company, we'd decided to hire the services of a digital advertising group.  The results have been nothing short of phenomenal:  For a mere P3,000 we were able to garner more than 100 resumes (and counting) in just over a week - speaking of "on-demand."  

So, am I a believer now?  Well, I've always been, but, now was truly able to experience what the hoopla is all about.  

Lastly, thought of introducing you to the world of illustrator Adam Ellis who seems to have tapped into the world of millennials and their experiences in this digitally connected world (you can check out more of his work here.  A must).

Pet Peeve

 

Which got me thinking:  In danger of going extinct like the dinosaur, are we paying enough attention to the digital world in what we do?  

While you're mulling over that, make the summer heat a bit bearable with music by Toots and the Maytals.  Enjoy the rest of the season!

My Uncle Went on a 150 Km Pilgrimage and All I Got Are These Nine Observations

My uncle, Rafa Cacho, 66, went on a ten day trek on the Camino de Santiago with his wife, Teresa, my parents and some friends.   Also known as The Way of St James, the pilgrimage originates in France and ends at Santiago de Compostela in Spain.  

Some of the things he brought back with him and I thought be perfect for this Holy Week:

1.   Learn to be patient and you shall overcome:  The trials we experienced came courtesy of the weather – heat, cold, rain – and exhaustion. 

    2.   Meet different cultures and be friendly:  We smiled at and greeted strangers.  Be ready with “hola,” and “buen camino.”

3.   Hopeful for the youth:  I’d observed there were many young people at Mass in the town of Portomarin in                    .

    4.   Everyone is helpful to one and all:  My in-laws, Joaquin and Nie Nie, had lost their way and a farmer showed them the right path.  If your intentions are pure, people will give good advice.

    5.   Nature’s beauty is all around:  All you need is to notice it and see God’s way and love for all. 

    6.   Find your weakness:  Recognize them and you will find your Camino in life.

    7.   Your Camino in life would be made purer if you try to walk in Christ’s way:  Do this through prayers, studying Christ’s life and to read up. 

    8.   Don't allow thoughts to linger in your mind about your needing to be recognized:   Thinking of the good in others is better. 

    9.   Recognize that there are events that are meant to be:  Teresa, Nie Nie, Joaquin and I went to a small church as we left the town of Arzua.  A lady of 88 years old gave Teresa a Camino shell made by a father named Paco who had lost a son.

A while later on the road, we’d met a trio of Americans who were two doctors and a medical assistant.  We had a nice conversation about how good Filipina nurses are and their work values. They’d noticed and asked Teresa about the shell given to her by the  old lady.  She’d explained how it was made by a father in memory of his lost son. 

It was then that the medical assistant shared that she, too, had lost a son.  Teresa gave her the special shell and both hugged and cried knowing in their hearts that the special shell was really meant for her. 

Did they both meet by chance or was it meant to be?  

20 Reflections for Reversers Moving to the Philippines

It'll be six years, shortly, since we moved here and thought be good to look back and see what I've learned.  It's no means a comprehensive look at what it takes for Filipinos coming back (“reversers” for reverse immigrants), but, it's a start. inos coming back 

1.      “When in Rome….”:  A cliché, yes, but critical.  Few months in and I’d banged on the trunk of a taxi who I thought violated my space when I was ignored at a pedestrian crossing. 

He stopped and I was itching for a fight.  Fortunately (for me), he drove off.  Eventually, got the hang that these traffic lanes are mere suggestions.  Live with it. 

2.      “United we stand, divide….”:  Don’t ever divide the price.  Yes, things were much cheaper where you came from, but, you’re not going to let yourself forever be consumed with guilt knowing that, “In Iowa, that only cost….,” right?

3.      It’s all relative.  To borrow an explanation of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity:  “Become a genius, have stupid friends.”  

We may not have a properly functioning government, wonderful roads and groceries stocked with 15 brands of the same item, but, really is traffic, pollution and sticky weather so much better than being lonely and being on anti-depressants?


Capturing Grannie’s Happy Moments (Baguio City, Philippines, 2013) 
www.seameo-innotech.org 

4.      Do a regular Pros and Cons:  Keep that in mind and, even better, write it down from time to time.    

5.      Don’t be cynical:  Have an open heart and mind.  Yes, things will start to annoy you, but,….

6.      Be spiritual:  There’s a reason why you were born here, been abroad and now back here.  There truly is.  Find out why. 

7.      It’s all about relationships here:  The cliché – another one – about it being about the people is just simply true.  In line with this, it’s a more enjoyable experience if you’re more of a giver than a taker. 

8.      Life’s a grand adventure.  Living here is the greatest of all. 

9.      Self-Realization:  Realize you’ll get to know yourself more. 

10.    It’s a “Third Metric” type of country.  You’ve come back because you want to make a ton of moollah?  You’ll be disappointed.  If you want that, the formula is this:  Celebrity > City Councilor > Congress > Senate.

Happiness, here, is this:  Family, friends, caring, sharing and loving.  Problem with that?  Stay where you belong.      

11.  There’ll be some bad and some great.  Key is to spot them and see what they mean for you 20 years down the road. 

12.  Do volunteer work.  Silver lining to living among the impoverished:  Gives you something to do of meaning.  

13.  Working with househelp is one of the more challenging and rewarding things here.  My grandfather’s adage:  If they were smarter, you’d be working for them. 

Yes, you’ll give them a two-part dissertation on the evils of real estate tax but, more importantly, they’ll teach you patience and empathy. 

14.  Utang, utang, utang…..

15.  Most of the people here are not as bright as you.  Be patient, your heart’s not as big as theirs (yet). 

16.  Self-Reflect often and be grateful for what you have right now. 

17.  Follow your passion.  Tips: Hold off on getting into something right away.  Study the terrain.  Find out what's in your heart first. 

18.  A postpaid plan is better.

19.  Empathy is one of the most important words you will learn / be re-acquainted with.

20.  The great divide.  In the US, I’d noticed, it was racial.  In Europe, ideological (Left and Right) and in the Philippines, it’s the Great Class Divide.  Almost everything that happens here stems from that.

There are, thus, cultural sensitivities that take time understanding and getting used to.  There are just some questions not asked nor comments made.  It’s too vast and complex to tackle on a list like this.

Written March 26, 2015

Of a Crying Girl, a Father and Daughter and a Knife and of Being Mindful and Ethical

Kindly allow me to recount a couple of stories:  Kelly, my wife, had noticed a little girl of about four who was crying and crying at the picnic party last Tuesday for a nephew, León.  She'd not been part of the celebration and just wandered in together with the yaya to play with the giant slide that had been set up for the event.  

Kelly asked around and was told by León's yaya, Lyn, that she observed that the little girl's own yaya, who was on the cellphone, pushed her aside and kept on pinching her on her side near the armpit.  

Kelly noticed that the girl seemed to be with a sister from Kara's school and so asked Kara to get her name.  

The following day, Kelly intimated how she'd a hard time going to sleep with the cries of the girl fresh in her mind.  Kara, though, initially protested to our bringing word to the parents about what happened concerned that it may not have been true.  

I went ahead and gave the "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing" speech and shared with her a story that has helped drive my life so far:

It had been a late evening around 1993 when while driving our trusty Daihatsu van I'd noticed at a dark side of Santolan Road a father and daughter seemingly being accosted by a man who had what appeared to be a knife.

  

In what still bugs me to this day, I just drove past them - rationalizing , perhaps, that it may have been too dangerous or that it may just have been "nothing."  

Whatever it is that I told myself that instant, I just drove off.  

It is something that I carry with a little guilt in a tiny corner of my heart and, thus, since have tried to make sure that am not part of the "good men who do nothing" group.   

Or, that night, was I just too engrossed with my destination - I don't even remember anymore where I was going then - that I downplayed something that'd have delayed me?  

In a 1973 study designed to understand compassion, psychologists found out that 90% of us rush by a person in distress if told that we're late for an appointment. In contrast, it had been found that a group of seminarians enlisted for this research and believed had plenty of time stopped and offered aid

A recent LA Times article shared that the finding in the research was so consistent they'd concluded that "ethics becomes a luxury as the speed of our daily lives increases."  

It's a fascinating piece on how - with all the distractions we now have - it's becoming increasing difficult to live in the moment....of being mindful of the now.  Of how "compulsive busy-ness, or 'active laziness' has become a curse."   

It's something that the Pope touched on recently when he'd admonished those who "limit themselves to bureaucratic work, losing contact with reality and concrete people."

Am not quite sure what happened to that father and daughter I saw on that fateful night, but, I do know we've gone ahead and sent word out to the parents of the little girl through the school.  Will keep you posted how that goes.  

Written March 1, 2015

"I Was a Teenage Cannibal," Lance Armstrong and "Lyin' Brian"

Story time:  A few  decades back a small private plane carrying an adventurous heiress of a giant American food processing corporation and her one year old son crash landed on an island of cannibals in the Caribbean.  The woman and the pilots promptly became dinner for the locals.  

Immediately, however, they took a liking to the strange "white as a mid-day sun" baby and decided to keep and raise him as their own.....as a cannibal.

  

The distraught father undertook a 17 year quest to look for them with DNA testing finally confirming that that strange, bedraggled teenager in the midst of a tribe was indeed his son.  After much negotiations with the elders, he was able to take him back to the family mansion in Pennsylvania.  

An extensive program to acclimate him to civilization soon followed including a barrage of attention from psychiatrists, doctors, linguists and anthropologists.  No one, however, could get him to eat the food that modern society served:  Pig, beef, fish, turkey, etc.  

In exasperation, the father prepared a huge feast put together by not just a few of the world's top chefs - in the belief (apparently, he, a fan of Vegas-style buffet) that given the choices exhibited before him he would finally give in. 

It was an evening, of course, that quickly fell into the disappointment category. 

"Richard, you've the world's greatest collection of food right in front of you, why is it that you refuse to even take a look at it?," the father wailed.  Visibly annoyed, he continued, "What is it you really want to eat?"

"You," said the teenager. 

This past week saw us learn a bit more about the disgraced cyclist Lance Armstrong.  He, of course, is the seven time Tour de France champ who eventually got his titles stripped because of cheating - using illegal performance enhancing substances.  

He'd a wonderful story - a cancer survivor, putting up a foundation for survivors of the disease - but, had kept the secret of his cheating through several years of court battles.  With surmounting evidence against him, he'd finally fessed up in 2013.  

Was he remorseful?  An interview last month seems to indicate he isn't, "If you take me back to 1995, when doping was completely pervasive, I would probably do it again."  This on top of an incident last December where he had wrecked two parked vehicles with his SUV and had his girlfriend take the blame for it.  

Pity the person, huh, who can't help himself because it's in his nature?

This also bring us to the story of NBC News anchor Brian Williams who just this evening had to take a leave after it surfaced that stories he has continued to tell - being in a helicopter that was shot down in Iraq and exaggerated reporting during Katrina - are turning out to be false. 

It's now coming to light that, apparently, his proclivity for lying is an open secret and had been allowed to go on by his superiors.  

Pity the person, huh, who has no one to tell him the truth about his nature? 

Written February 8, 2015 

Of Indizh, Canyon Cove and the Deaths of Crosby and Botak

As I may have recounted to some of you, I’d an extremely bizarre incident some time back while trying to book a room at Canyon Cove for my cousin Marga’s wedding. 

After repeated attempts to have them reach out to me, in exasperation, I’d blurted out to an agent, “How would you feel if you were in my shoes?”  Big mistake to ask someone who’s been trained to just be a drone – no feelings and mechanical. 

The conversation – in various avenues of the same theme – went on for about 20 minutes with her just saying that she’ll try to find out what happened and will get back to me. 

“I don’t care about what you’re going to do,” I kept repeating, “I just want you to tell me what you would feel if you were in my situation.” 

“I’m sorry, po, but I can’t,” was the automatic reply. 

Filipinos are possibly the warmest and most hospitable people in the world.  It’s what really makes me call this place “home.”  Given the wrong guidance and culture, however, they can be exasperating.  Key, I suppose is to bring out our strengths and capitalize on them.  Something Canyon Cove, obviously, didn’t do. 

I'd understood everything clearly when we finally stayed at the resort and actually felt bad I'd demanded so much from the person I'd spoken to.  After all, it was a place that was utilitarian, not too well kept and had that "pwede na" feel to it.  She was primarily echoing this culture.  

People who really know me are aware of my extreme nationalism – I’m not too happy when I’ve to eat at a restaurant that’s foreign and, for the longest time held, off on buying a pair of rubber shoes because I’d the belief there’s a local brand (even took a trip to Marikina). 

I've come up with a term - "indizh" - a play on the word indigenous - to describe homegrown companies that I'd rather patronize.  So, yeah, please, don't come running to invite me to the opening of that new Pink's Hotdogs.  I'm fine with my Manang's Chicken, thank you.   

Reasons for this include the practical:  I'd rather that the money made by an establishment stay in the country rather than go to that shareholder living in that four bed / five car McMansion in that tony Idaho suburb. 

So, in my long quest for that pair (I can actually share with you the state of my old one - which literally fell apart), I came to the realization that brands I knew growing up - Crosby and Botak - no longer exist.  Was it, perhaps, our inability to innovate that brought about this?  

Our, yes, culture that allows us to fall into that "pwede na" category?  Perhaps it was that and not the Ice Age that killed the dinosaurs, right?

Written January 31, 2015