Nostalgia - Babies

My youngest (soon 2) was today operated on his thumb, and had to be put under full anasthetics. It was thankfully an in-and-out procedure, went very well, and we were allowed to return home after a couple of hours. Although it was a minor operation, I was scared, as I guess any parent is who knows what risks are involved in any operation. But I was also nostalgic, because right next to the operating rooms were the birth wardens, where I gave birth to all three children. I saw a woman at the door in labour pains. I saw dads sleeping. I saw newborns in their car seats. And in the room where my son woke up, there was a mother and her 20-minute old infant. Seeing a new born nearly makes me cry each time. A new life is such a blessing. And I have been so blessed to have experienced this three times myself, and through friends, continue to see new mini-people join this world - and grow up into little people, and bigger people.

Learn for Life (and send your kids abroad)

My Sunday evening program does not usually include going to a lecture, but my old university supervisor from 12 years back (International Relations Masters at the London School of Economics) is in town (Berlin) and gave a talk on Britain and the EU to alumni, just around the corner from my place, so I decided to go. I didn't think a) he'd remember me, b) there would be anyone in the audience I would know (or anyone in the audience on a Sunday evening. End.).

Well, wrong on both fronts. Although I'm very active in alumni work for my Berlin university (I did a second masters five years after the first one), I have been lousy with alumni contacts from London, although I loved my years there. This was the first event I went to. I plan to go to more.

My supervisor, now a Liberal Democrat in charge of foreign policy in the coalition government, remembered who I was. More impressive, I bumped into someone whom I started my PhD year with (he became a Doctor, I quit very early into the program), as well as another professor I know. It was great fun to catch up on people who were in my year.

But the best part was to listen to a topic that I rather passively follow (through the media, and even there I often skip much of the UK news these days), from a perspective that I have not followed since my studies (i.e. "real foreign policy"), and from a person who has a truly British perspective on things. It was as if I had been transported to a different, older world, where people ask questions about defense cooperation and budgets (do these things really shape the world? It's such a different discourse from what I'm used to these days, either general budgets or health/aid (the latter unfortunately definitely does not shape the world enough)).

At the end of the day, whether defense budgets and foreign policy or what not, the world I live in is so small. It's a privilege, and I should use and learn from the intelligence out there more (see last post on networking).

The "lesson" I am supposed to share from this evening (says my Professor): send your kids abroad early. Everyone is a "foreigner" somewhere. No need to say more.

Can Books Be Dangerous?

I read a lot. The thrill of holding a new book in my hands that I have wanted to read is like waiting for the roller coaster ride to start its first descent. Sometimes, it's exhilarating. At other times, it's hugely disappointing.

I believe that life is too short to read bad books. There are so many great books out there, and whenever I come across something I don't enjoy - or struggle to get through - I give up and move on. At the moment, I'm reading Rushdie's "Joseph Anton", which I have written about in a couple of posts. I just received Alois Prinz's new biography on Hannah Arendt (yay!), and have on my bedside table Chinese Mo Yan's (nobel prize winner) "Red Sorghum" (brutal).

I just read in the newspaper that Turkey lifted a ban on 23,000 books, that had been in place for decades. The ban included some mundane Western comics, but also books by PKK leader Öcalan. In line with the Rushdie fatwa case: can these books be dangerous?

Libel, hate-speak, denials of holocausts etc have been and continue to be banned in many places. The line between freedom of speech and incitement of violence or insult can be a thin one, and placed in different spots by different parties and individuals.

Just a while back, I was reading a book review on a current bestseller novel called "Er ist wider da" (He's here again), which is about Hitler re-emerging with amnesia of the past 65 years in our current day, and eventually rising back to power due to public parody and media hype. The reviewer criticized the author of "being naive about his readership", implying that the book may be read as right-wing neo-fascist propaganda.

Food for thought.  

What's a Good Babysitter?

When my son was 4 months old, I started working on a project, and needed a babysitter to take care of him for a couple of hours each day. My girls were at daycare, but I didn't have a place for him yet. I found a babysitter through kindergarden, and had a friend vouch that she was great also with babies. This babysitter turned out to be a true gem, and also turned into a friend.

I later on recommended her to several other friends, and they often sing the song: "There's no-one like A." It's true: she is just perfect. Super organized, super nice, able to multitask, independent, very discreet, very diplomatic, very intelligent... I felt so comfortable leaving my baby in her care, and trusted her 150%. She has unfortunately now moved on to other work (she's a talented and rising star in the art world), and no longer has time to babysit our kids.

Our girls started daycare at a very young age for German standards (4 and 5 months). We had an amazing woman at kindergarden taking care of both of them when they were small. She was one of those kind teddy-bears, who rather calmly cuddles and holds five crying babies than set one down.

It's such a difficult thing to do: to leave your small child in someone else's care. Trusting this person to be kind to your child is essential. We've been very lucky so far, although we've seen some rotten apples during our years as well.

I hope that during our ongoing search to find someone to take care of our kids in the afternoons, if everything works out with my new job, we'll find more gems. Cross your fingers for us.

The Slot Machine called Career - and Coins

I am a strong proponent of networking. When I was working for the World Bank, this was a very easy task, because the status of the World Bank at development meetings acts like a magnet: people throw business cards at you. I collected very useful ones (the most high-profile ones I had to go and gather myself, of course), but also held a bunch in my hand after any large meeting wondering what on earth I would do with some of them.

I got invited to events only because of my institution, not because of my job, title, or - woe of woes - skills and personality. I once went to wine and dine luxuriously in Milan and Turin because the organizer was so happy to have the Bank on their list of attendees (I did actually go to the meeting because it was hugely useful for my project's contacts, and did have to convince my Manager using the criteria of objective usefulness that he should approve my trip).

But the best part of networking, useful or not at the precise moment of contact, is that there are people - a "face" - behind the business cards. These are real people, with strengths, weaknesses, stories, and personalities. They make working "real", which is not the case if you only communicate through e-mail or phone. And face-value increases trust. Would I ever ask for a favor of someone I've e-mailed with extensively to organize some or other issue at work? Rarely. Would I ask for a favor from someone I chatted to during an extensive coffee break and lunch at a conference? Yes.

The most useful network is personal. And the best network ever consists of friends. Those of you out there know who you are. You are the coins for this slot-machine called career (the great part is that the machine does not eat the coin, but lets me use it again and again...).