How About Some GOOD News?

I don't know about you, but I feel a general sense of change for the better around me. A number of positive things are happening which give me the feeling that the air of crisis and doom is lifting.

One ex-Canon friend of mine, who had gone through the summer feeling like the job market was dead, suddenly has one offer with a great organisation, and another offer in the pipeline. Another friend also had a very interesting job offer and meanwhile is getting 2 calls from Headhunters a week. My brother rode out a difficult re-organisation, coming out the other side with a new role.

My friend Sonny has made a breakthrough in his career recenly. Currently he's making the most of a posting with IBM in India, being trained as an SAP consultant. How cool is that! You can read his blog at http://sonnysindiaadventure.blogspot.com/.

Meanwhile, all the signs in the economy are that things are at least bottomed-out and ready for recovery, if not already so. That means that companies will plan their headcount budgets for next year a little more optimistically. Recruitment freezes will start to thaw in the last quarter of this year and especially in the first quarter of 2010.

Almost every day I hear some new change among my ex-Canon friends looking for a new role. The first months seem to have been difficult for all, but gradually people are having interviews and getting closer to new positions, or finding them already. Summer is over - the job-market is moving.

It's amazing how the sense of gloom is contagious. There was a period around April-early July when the news was bad, the atmosphere at my old company was naturally difficult and the general feeling among friends was not positive. It genuinely feels that atmosphere is lifting and the new catching disease is optimism. Even my running is improving (the pic is of me after a 10km dune run - the gray skies could not stop me running a minute faster than I hoped!)

As for me, I have a very odd sense right now that this might be my last month living permanently in Amsterdam. I don't have any firm plan about that - the experiences of the 5-month world trip from Mid-October will make clear what the next steps should be. And I will visit Amsterdam for the rest of my life no matter where I go. Living in this city transformed my life.

This morning especially I feel a creeping feeling of gradually leaving something great behind and moving onto a great next step, wherever and whatever that may be.

A Question of Identity

I left England in 1998, coming to Holland without any serious thought beyond "that seems like a good chance - let's go". Instinctively, I knew I had to go beyond current boundaries.

Just 2 days before leaving, I had quit my job and apartment - no other preparation had been done. But then, the roots of my life in England were so loose - no wife and children, no owned home and my recent history of moving 13 times in 10 years had resulted in very few firm friendships. In 2 days, I shut down my English existence, packed my stuff, called the gas and electricity companies, put the keys through the door and left.

In the following 12 years, living in Holland and Austria, I have tried to learn the secret of being an International Englishman. This secret came to me thanks to working in the melting pot of my company, with its diverse group of nationalities, and especially through working with Japanese colleagues - such a different culture to my own. One of the first big realisations came quickly - that speaking "English English" was not going to help me communicate with people.

This meant a fundamental difference in my conversation with others. The English language is full of slang, strange sayings and little oddities, things that mean absolutely nothing to a foreigner. Naturally, as an island of 60 million people, English culture has a massive focus on all things English. TV, Radio, Newspapers & Politics fuel the native humour which is quick to find its target and push it over the edge.

I learned that "International English" is not like that at all. It is a simpler and more universal way of communication. That simplicity is so essential for a multi-cultural environment, where English cultural references mean precisely nothing. It proves that Language is Culture. And I realised that if I wanted to understand other nationalities' culture, I would have to learn International English, by mirroring the way that people from different countries communicated in the common language.

For 12 years, I have concentrated on this. If language is culture, then I believe I was constantly making an attempt to dilute my own cultural sense of Being English in the interests of understanding a wider set of cultures. By flattening my vocabulary and removing slang and typical home humour from my conversation, and by seeking the commonality among many languages and the way other nationalities communicate and laugh with people in English, I made a sub-conscious decision to to shut down (or at least suppress) a part of my English identity.

That decision has served me well and it seemed no price to pay. After all, I was living in a foreign country surrounded by people from all over the world speaking my language. The least I could do was to make an effort to be understandable.

Over the years, I have met people from so many different countries and increasingly been able to communicate with them in English on an equal level. Non-native speakers are often nervous about speaking English to a native speaker because they become more conscious of making mistakes, thinking perfection is required. But I always tried to put them at ease by saying "don't worry about accuracy of grammar - I can understand you, we can communicate, that's all that matters."

I never thought there would be a price to pay for that choice. But now that I am spending more time with groups of English-only people, I am reminded that there is always a price to pay for going for what you want, small or large.

Recently in the UK at a party of Nicki's friends, I had my first taste of culture shock - in my own country. I could understand the words of the conversation, but often I had no idea of the real meaning. I don't know what is on TV or what's going on in politics over there. I don't listen to English radio or read the newspapers. Suddenly, I felt like a stranger - it was hard to contribute as the quick-fire humour passed me by. My English language is outdated by 12 years, because I have not been immersed in the country's culture for 12 years. It was a genuine shock and it knocked me sideways.

And I will get through it. Come on, I tell myself, I learned to speak German in Austria and a good amount of Dutch in Holland. How difficult can it be for an Englishman (no matter how International) to learn English English?

And despite the discomfort and shock of this disconnection (the Dutch word is 'vervreemd' - it more accurately expresses what I felt), I don't regret one single thing. That decision, so lightly taken all those years ago, to leave my home country and seek something wider resulted in exposure to such an incredible diversity of people and cultures. Surely it has made me a better person.

It took me 12 years to learn how to be an International Englishman. It will take much less to learn to be English again. But it will take time.

Contrasting Squares

A city of contrasts. I believe that's what we all love, the contrast to what we are used to. Maybe that is why we love Amsterdam.

The peace of the Hofje. The green, the calm, space, solitude, earnest learning of the university building, Minerva's wisdom.

The bustle of Nieuwmarkt. The market, terrace bar wisdom, tourists and locals mixed in this old place. De Waag dominates the square - the ancient castle-like building where merchants weighed their goods.

It's a mound of sounds. Car engines, bike bells tinging, voices, chains, squeaking breaks, coughs and splutters, high-heeled footsteps, a louder engine, English, Spanish and Dutch voices, a baby crying, a stool squeaking.

Nieuwmarkt - remarkably, the site of riots just 40 years ago, Most of the people here - mostly tourists - would be amazed to know of the riots. But I know and am always amazed too. To think this place, where we drink our tea and write our words, was the scene of police-truncheon violence and water cannon as the protesters against the demolition of old buildings to make way for the new Metro were herded away.

But much worse lies deeper, the war history. I feel it when I come here, ever since I learned that this was the Jewish quarter of a city known as Mokum (Yiddish for "Safe Haven"). Tens of thousands were removed from the area in the war. Of 80,000 Jews in Mokum before the war, just 5,000 survived. 5,000.

This deep sadness and shame of Amsterdam. We talked about it, Tine and I - she described it as "A Wounded City". Unspoken. Unspeakable. Not to be spoken of.The city recovered. Of course it did, life moves on and nearly 70 years have passed now since the war. 34 years have passed since the riots and the demolition of the rotting but beautiful buildings that stood in the way of the progress of the city.

And the Nieuwmarkt square goes about its life, serving up a beautiful atmosphere of the world moving, oblivious to the past and enjoying a present, peaceful and busy Amsterdam moment.