Thursday, October 04, 2007

Speak to me


There are any number of frivolous ways to dabble in different cultures (see anything in this blog for example), but just for a minute, be serious. Please.

So much of traveling is about finding out how other people live: visiting tribes in the hills of Thailand, dancing with the locals in a bar in Nicaragua, renting an apartment for a couple of weeks in NYC. Knowing that things can be done differently gives us a fresh look at the way we do things. And sure, if you’re staying home you can have dinner in a Vietnamese restaurant or see a French film and get a little bit of that insight. Or you could become a volunteer English tutor for a recent migrant.

Do what now? Don’t you have to go to university for that?

You don’t. All over the country, community-based organisations train people to be volunteer English tutors: all it requires is a commitment of your time (try calling your local university, technical college, migrant centre or local government for more information). Even if there’s no such organization in your area or you don’t feel comfortable formally tutoring someone to speak English, lots of migrants really just want someone they can practise English with. All you have to do is have a little chat with them once a week or so. You can discuss football, cooking, weddings, what’s on TV or the country they’re from: whatever the two of you feel like talking about. Put up some notices around your local schools, shopping centres or cultural centres and see if anyone’s interested. Helping someone out with their English, seeing the way this improves their life, and at the same time finding out about a completely different way of living is one of the most rewarding experiences you can have.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Meet the locals, part 2


On a boring weekend, turn to the local newspaper’s community pages where organizations around town list the free or fund-raising activities they’re running this week. The chances of finding something you’d actually want to do are pretty slim, but try doing something you’d never have dreamed of doing.
Maybe the local hardware store is running an information session on how to fix a tap – not only will you gain a new skill, you’ll meet all those retired old guys who have nothing better to do than go to an information session on how to fix a tap. Maybe the local walking group is going for a hike out of town, giving you the chance to stretch your legs and have a chat with people who like wholewheat spaghetti and soy cheese. Or perhaps there’s a quilting show on at the town hall where you can adopt yourself a new grandma and get a few smocking tips.
There’s a good chance you’ll be bored out of your mind before half an hour has passed, but who knows: you might find that what your life has been missing all along is painting watercolors of dried flower arrangements. Either way, when your friends ask what you did on the weekend, you’ll have something to say.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Historical brain transplant


Maybe it’s not your home town you’re sick of. Maybe you’re sick of you. While the science of brain transplantation is not entirely perfected, there are other options for escaping the prison that is your skull (and no, we’re not talking about a ride on the peyote highway).

Instead of asking such vague questions as ‘What would Jesus do?’, try asking ‘What would Jesus do if he got to Kmart and the advertised special on fleece throw rugs was all sold out and the woman on the desk wouldn’t give him a raincheck and he was late for a meeting with his CEO?’. Or, for example, what would Genghis Khan do if he'd forgotten it was his four-year-old daughter's birthday this weekend and he had only two days to organise a children's party?

First, write the names of famous people on slips of paper. Second, write the names of places around town on other slips of paper. Randomly pull a slip from each bunch. What do you know: you’re Cleopatra, and you’re trying to buy a used car.

It might be pushing it to show up to the used car lot and pretend to be Cleopatra (but if you’re keen, hey, go for it!). But you might enjoy the exercise of doing everyday things while imagining you’re someone entirely different. For example, browse cupcake recipes online while imagining you’re Genghis Khan, then write up your experiences (as Genghis, of course) on your blog. Want more? Have all your friends choose a slip each from the ‘famous person’ pile, all visit the same spot from the ‘places in town’ pile, and each write up your experiences.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Show some civic pride


Yeah, yeah, you heart NY. Big deal. Everyone hearts NY.

But what if you heart Goulburn, Cockermouth or Yuba City? It’s not so easy to let everyone know. You can’t just stop by some unlicensed roadside souvenir seller to grab a t-shirt or pick up a stubbie holder for your beer. If you really love Goulburn,Cockermouth or Yuba City, you’re going to have to do a little work. But remember: love you’ve worked on is worth so much more than love you’ve bought.

What is it about Yuba City that really cranks your dial? What do the people who live in Cockermouth know about it that no one else knows about? Is there an in-joke about Goulburn that out-of-towners just won’t get?

Stick it on a t-shirt.

If you like a bit of glamour, pop into your local craft store and get yourself a Bedazzler and some puffy fabric paint. Or maybe you’d prefer iron-on varsity letters. If you have a printer, you can design a t-shirt on your computer and print it out onto iron-on transfer paper. If you don’t, go low-rent with a Sharpie and a white t-shirt.

You might be surprised how many people stop you and ask where you got the t-shirt (this is less likely to happen if you’ve scrawled on a white t-shirt with a Sharpie, of course). It feels pretty good to say, ‘Oh, I made it myself’. Alternatively, if the person is really desperate to get one of their own, you can claim to have bought it at some tiny shop about two hours’ drive away that’s only open on weekday mornings.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

‘Note the physiognomy of the line, representative of an overarching symbolism…’

String these phrases together: ‘great historical significance’; ‘a sublime expression of the creator’s philosophy’; ‘archetypical, yet ahead of its time’. Got it? OK, you are now a tour guide.

Get a group of friends together and hit your town’s cultural hotspot: a museum, a gallery, a stately home, an architectural wonder, the seat of government. If you don’t have anything approaching a cultural hotspot, go to Safeway or a car yard instead. (In fact, that’s an even better idea…)

Take turns playing tour guide: use your imagination, speak loudly, and whatever you do don’t include a single accurate fact. Talk, talk, talk! Hold up an umbrella so no one gets lost. You know you’re really doing well when strangers start joining in (if you’re feeling very ambitious, you could advertise your free tour in the local paper). Points are awarded for style and plausibility.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Taking care of business


You’ve just flown in and already the deliverables you’re enhancing are hung on a skyhook or outright left in the parking lot. You’ve got to ramp this baby up! You’ve got to get these offerings on the freeway! You’ve got plenty to envisage going forward, and all you want is some takeup of the best-of-breed product set. Let’s call a meeting!

The only thing cooler than a guy in a suit, sitting in a hotel bar, yelling on a cell phone, is eight guys in suits, sitting in a hotel bar, all simultaneously yelling on cell phones. Don’t you want to be one of those guys who flies into town to give a PowerPoint presentation? Well, don’t you?

Synchronise watches. You and your friends are going to put on your best suits (don’t have one? Try an op shop) and hit some downtown hotel for a breakfast meeting. The more upscale the hotel, the better: a Hilton or a Hyatt is just the ticket. Don’t forget your props: laptops if you have them, some kind of portable whiteboard, and your cell phones (extra points if you have a Bluetooth headset). If your own importance isn’t inspiration enough to get you diagramming, scoping future directions and visioning, then try giving yourselves a few tasks. You could have a prize for the first person who uses a sentence including functionality, user-defined, straw man, leading provider, monetise, robust and scalable, or give an award for best use of a noun as a verb, or verb as a noun (‘how are we matrixing this, Jeff?’ 'Well, Leon, that depends on how you action the learnings you've been tasked with').

Whatever you do, don’t forget: you are a Master of the Universe.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Miro, Miro on the wall


You’ve probably played the old surrealist game where you fold a piece of paper and someone draws the head, folds it and passes it on to someone who draws the body, and they fold it and pass it on to someone who draws the legs, then you unfold it and have a laugh at the results. This is a travel version of that game.

You’ll need at least four people for this excursion, so bribe your friends. Get them all together and fold a piece of paper in four. On the first section, secretly write a destination you’re going to visit (this could be Afghanistan or the mall or the future, whatever takes your fancy, and depending on the kind of resources you and your friends have). Fold the paper over and pass it to one of your friends, who secretly writes an activity (street theatre, knitting, a running race, fishing...).

They fold the paper over and pass it to the next person, who secretly writes a dress code (black tie, dress as clowns, ballerina outfits, diapers...). They fold it over and pass to the fourth person, who chooses an item you all have to bring (a potted plant, a champagne glass, the complete works of Mark Twain...).

Unfold the paper, and there’s your expedition. Depending on how tricky it’s going to be to execute, give yourselves a set amount of time to get together the things you need, then meet up and have your surrealist experience.

If you have more friends willing to join in, you could add other items such as budget, a manner of speaking (only using thee and thou, no swearing, no first names...), a mode of transport (hop everywhere, go by bike, use public transport...), or make up some of your own.

Make sure you take lots of photos so you can embarrass yourself in front of anyone who wasn’t silly enough to come along.