Puddles and Reflections (more thoughts from the breakfast table)

So yesterday I gave my last talk/presentation/interview of my time here in Italy. The rest of the week I will just be doing informal consultations with people at the ITC-ILO / UN Systems Staff College and then enjoying one last Italian weekend with the family.

I called the talk "Walk in the Puddles". A lot of my colleagues mused over if it was me reflecting on our unusually wet spring here in Italy (or on the climate of our home in the Pacific Northwest). While that may have been interesting, they were all wrong. Instead, in preparing for this talk and discussing conceptually what it should do with the Director of Learning and Communication at the International Training Centre where I've been spending my sabbatical, I realized it should be more about life lessons blended with my professional experience. For some reason, it sparked a memory in me about when I was doing fieldwork in New Guinea. Stay with me here--minor diversion--How many of you were reprimanded as children to avoid puddles? I'm sure many of you are imagining the words of your own mother right now. Those of you who are parents probably are thinking the same words and saying them to your children (unless they are properly attired Pacific Northwest children in rain pants and boots of course).

At any rate, the Kamoro, the people among whom I spent time during my research, spent a lot of time traveling around in canoes, going in and out of them in swampy areas that are the landings in much of the eastern part of that region. I could't help but notice every time we got out of the canoes, the Kamoro splashed through the puddles. As a snarfy 20-something, I remember asking "Are you TRYING to step in the puddles?"

The response was astonishment. The guy looks at me as if to say "Well duh". He pointed out that everyone knows that the presence of a puddle suggests a firm foundation beneath it, you should ALWAYS walk in the puddles. The actual lesson stuck with me (in the sense that when I am riding in a cyclocross race, I make sure to aim for the puddles rather than the mud).

The metaphorical lesson only happened over time. Ultimately I built up to it in the talk, but the gist is that we are often faced with challenging situations (puddles). At a superficial glance, they look scary and as trained, we avoid them. However, when I look at some of the things I've faced and overcome, I've discovered there is firm footing at the bottom, you just need to build up the courage to find it.

Many people might ask why I chose to work and accept invitations to talk during a sabbatical--I can only assume many of my work colleagues would rather die of blistering sunburn on a beach somewhere. For me, these talks have fit into the broader framework of what I think a sabbatical should be--a time to step away from your daily routine, dislocate yourself in a way that forces you to see a different perspective. These last 10-12 weeks have done exactly that. 

This time allowed me to enable my family to live in and experience another country--actually, my older son Sean might point out that more correctly we visited two countries (Italy and France), passed through another enroute (Germany), and two sovereign city-states (Vatican City and the Principality of Monaco), and the semi-automous region of Val d'Osta. To even understand this is pretty amazing. Griffin demonstrated that play is cross-cultural. Hailey seems to be finding new inspiration.

To have my children now understanding first hand the power of culture, faith, religion, politics, art and wealth as seen from Venice to Rome, Florence to Torino is something that I hope they will always remember and I hope the experience helps to shape them into better human beings (not just realize that when you put 13 and 5 year old boys in close quarters that they will pick, fight, nag, and torment)! For my daughter, I hope that she's inspired to continue her artistic expression and the she has confidence that comes with finding her way in a world that may be often outside her comfort zone.

Griffin has now come down to join me for our daily breakfast. That's all for now, more later.

Ciao!