Doubt and Frustration
I heard somewhere that Eskimos increase their fat intake as winter approaches, to ward off the melancholy induced by the cold and gloom of their environment. Fat consumption, apparently, has an anti-depressant effect.
The reverse was certainly true for me on moving to the Mediterranean. I felt so good about being in the sun, that my usual cravings for high calorie treats - like crisps, peanuts, ice cream and chocolate - all but disappeared. The heat meant that I didn’t feel like cooking or eating bulky meals on a regular basis either. Instead, I’d snack on local specialities like dry bread whenever I felt hungry. Out went litres of dehydrating beer and wine; in came litres of rehydrating water and soft drinks.
These changes in my diet, together with my many long walks, meant that I lost weight. I was so pleased about this because I could stop wearing baggy clothes on the beach and start feeling comfortable in my swimming costume again. I was rapidly becoming thin and angular, regaining the physique that I’d last enjoyed as a young, athletic second row forward. Now, I could see the muscles that I’d formed previously in the gymnasium and the ability to move about breezily again, after many years in the doldrums, was wonderful.
Although I felt more positive about the correctness of our decision to emigrate at this time, I was less positive about the decision we had made regarding my job. Whilst the benefits of only working my contracted hours were appreciated, I found it hard to accept other workplace practices. Over the years, I’d learnt how to operate effectively in many different organisations, how to work with various colleagues and how to please numerous managers, but I'd never come across a work culture quite like this one before.
But then, new practices, procedures and frustrations were to be expected, weren’t they? After all, some of my reasons for wanting to emigrate were to experience different ways of work, broaden horizons and overcome challenging situations. In recent months, a restlessness with my familiar and secure life in England had conspired with fate to provide me with those challenges. I had to be patient therefore, give my new job time. With hard work and persistence, I would bring good fortune to my colleagues and employer, just as I had done on many occasions before. Some irksome policies needed changing yes, but the chairman knew that, and he’d hired me to sort some of them out.
Although I’d rationalised my observations and feelings in this manner many times, during the first few weeks of June, I still grew impatient with the lack of progress on what I felt were important matters. I consoled myself with the thought that I'd be going on my first overseas assignment soon, and hoped that the trip would provide me with a significant opportunity to effect change for the better.
I was used to operating alone, ‘in the field’ so to speak. I knew myself to be a self-sufficient and competent operator, without the need for close supervision. I felt confident about my abilities to reassure existing clients and generate new business opportunities. These would be vital qualities in my first mission abroad for the chairman, in a part of the world where telecommunication was often restricted.
Before my day of departure arrived, colleagues who’d made the journey to Libya before gave me two pieces of advice. Travel ‘light’, and declare all of your foreign currency on your way into and out of all the countries en route. The first piece of advice was easy to heed. I’d just take my faithful old flight case for my documents and a fold-over suitcase for my clothes.
The second piece caused me some concern though. I didn’t like the idea of travelling around the Mediterranean and North Africa with a large amount of US Dollars in my possession. In my previous meandering abroad on business, I’d always been trusted with a company credit card to cover most of my expenditure. My latest employer however, made it clear that unlimited company credit by means of a card was out of the question. In reply, I made it clear that unlimited personal credit was out of the question too. I simply didn’t have the spare money to use my British Visa Card on the trip and reclaim my expenses later.
When this stalemate occurred, I approached my bank in Cyprus, to see if it would issue me with a credit card in case of emergencies. The manager of my local branch wasn’t interested in the bank and other testimonials that I’d brought with me from England. Instead, he said that he would issue me a card, but only if I was prepared to deposit several thousand pounds in a separate, ‘ring-fenced’ account as surety.
I had a little chuckle to myself. I didn’t have that sort of money. Even if I had, I wasn’t going to ‘lend’ it to a bank, for it to earn interest on. I wasn’t going to run away and shirk my financial responsibilities. I was an honourable man and felt somewhat annoyed at the bank manager’s attitude. Instead therefore, I opted for the manager’s offer of a debit card; one that I could only use in Cyprus. This card didn’t require any ring fencing of my assets, but couldn’t be used on my trip either.
Why did the authorities insist on such precautions? Well, at the time, the Cyprus Government actively encouraged money on-shore and actively discouraged it flowing off-shore again. Also, too many foreigners in recent times - mainly eastern Europeans it was alleged - had come to Cyprus with no money, accumulated huge bills and then left without paying. Perhaps this explained why so many Cypriots had traded their easy-going hospitality for hard-nosed financial astuteness since 1976.
The reverse was certainly true for me on moving to the Mediterranean. I felt so good about being in the sun, that my usual cravings for high calorie treats - like crisps, peanuts, ice cream and chocolate - all but disappeared. The heat meant that I didn’t feel like cooking or eating bulky meals on a regular basis either. Instead, I’d snack on local specialities like dry bread whenever I felt hungry. Out went litres of dehydrating beer and wine; in came litres of rehydrating water and soft drinks.
These changes in my diet, together with my many long walks, meant that I lost weight. I was so pleased about this because I could stop wearing baggy clothes on the beach and start feeling comfortable in my swimming costume again. I was rapidly becoming thin and angular, regaining the physique that I’d last enjoyed as a young, athletic second row forward. Now, I could see the muscles that I’d formed previously in the gymnasium and the ability to move about breezily again, after many years in the doldrums, was wonderful.
Although I felt more positive about the correctness of our decision to emigrate at this time, I was less positive about the decision we had made regarding my job. Whilst the benefits of only working my contracted hours were appreciated, I found it hard to accept other workplace practices. Over the years, I’d learnt how to operate effectively in many different organisations, how to work with various colleagues and how to please numerous managers, but I'd never come across a work culture quite like this one before.
But then, new practices, procedures and frustrations were to be expected, weren’t they? After all, some of my reasons for wanting to emigrate were to experience different ways of work, broaden horizons and overcome challenging situations. In recent months, a restlessness with my familiar and secure life in England had conspired with fate to provide me with those challenges. I had to be patient therefore, give my new job time. With hard work and persistence, I would bring good fortune to my colleagues and employer, just as I had done on many occasions before. Some irksome policies needed changing yes, but the chairman knew that, and he’d hired me to sort some of them out.
Although I’d rationalised my observations and feelings in this manner many times, during the first few weeks of June, I still grew impatient with the lack of progress on what I felt were important matters. I consoled myself with the thought that I'd be going on my first overseas assignment soon, and hoped that the trip would provide me with a significant opportunity to effect change for the better.
I was used to operating alone, ‘in the field’ so to speak. I knew myself to be a self-sufficient and competent operator, without the need for close supervision. I felt confident about my abilities to reassure existing clients and generate new business opportunities. These would be vital qualities in my first mission abroad for the chairman, in a part of the world where telecommunication was often restricted.
Before my day of departure arrived, colleagues who’d made the journey to Libya before gave me two pieces of advice. Travel ‘light’, and declare all of your foreign currency on your way into and out of all the countries en route. The first piece of advice was easy to heed. I’d just take my faithful old flight case for my documents and a fold-over suitcase for my clothes.
The second piece caused me some concern though. I didn’t like the idea of travelling around the Mediterranean and North Africa with a large amount of US Dollars in my possession. In my previous meandering abroad on business, I’d always been trusted with a company credit card to cover most of my expenditure. My latest employer however, made it clear that unlimited company credit by means of a card was out of the question. In reply, I made it clear that unlimited personal credit was out of the question too. I simply didn’t have the spare money to use my British Visa Card on the trip and reclaim my expenses later.
When this stalemate occurred, I approached my bank in Cyprus, to see if it would issue me with a credit card in case of emergencies. The manager of my local branch wasn’t interested in the bank and other testimonials that I’d brought with me from England. Instead, he said that he would issue me a card, but only if I was prepared to deposit several thousand pounds in a separate, ‘ring-fenced’ account as surety.
I had a little chuckle to myself. I didn’t have that sort of money. Even if I had, I wasn’t going to ‘lend’ it to a bank, for it to earn interest on. I wasn’t going to run away and shirk my financial responsibilities. I was an honourable man and felt somewhat annoyed at the bank manager’s attitude. Instead therefore, I opted for the manager’s offer of a debit card; one that I could only use in Cyprus. This card didn’t require any ring fencing of my assets, but couldn’t be used on my trip either.
Why did the authorities insist on such precautions? Well, at the time, the Cyprus Government actively encouraged money on-shore and actively discouraged it flowing off-shore again. Also, too many foreigners in recent times - mainly eastern Europeans it was alleged - had come to Cyprus with no money, accumulated huge bills and then left without paying. Perhaps this explained why so many Cypriots had traded their easy-going hospitality for hard-nosed financial astuteness since 1976.
posted by Hawkeye at 9:20 am
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