CONTENTS
CONTENTS
Chapter 4, Part ii
The Big Four
(My 4 relocations leading to PwC)
I've just returned to my apartment in Auckland, New Zealand after a short weekend away to the Coromandel Peninsula, approximately a 2.5 hour drive away. If you google it, you will see some amazing photographs of stunning landscapes, mountains, beaches, coves, unique sands, and natural springs where people gather to sit in dugout pits at Hot Water Beach, one of my most unique beach experiences from around the world. As I took this drive alone, I had so much time to think about part two of this blog and how I would characterize the transition from San Francisco to London to New Zealand. So many ideas flooded my head, focusing more on the visuals, like asking you all to close your eyes and picture the most amazing green color you can think of then speckle it with black or white polka dots - the cattle and sheep - and then merge it into the most amazing blue hues above and below it for the vast skies and ocean fronts. I realise that I owe you the "how I got here" story also, and so for that, I can't stop thinking about the drive today - curves that do a full 180, winding up and down mountains, the feeling of slowing down and speeding up around these curves, hearing items sliding back and forth in my trunk as I pretended to have no fear driving at a "bit higher than I should be" speed, deciding today that I really need to go try to drive a race car..... #zoomzoomzoom
On top of the driving experience being analogous to this journey, I also took a very mindful time out today where I simply stood grounded for a good 20 minutes in knee deep ocean water as the waves came in and out, reliably but inconsistently, from various directions, at various heights and speeds, as if to say, "Try to predict me.... you cannot." I listened to a few of my favourite songs and just breathed in the ocean air, deep in thought about the fact that some people reading this have never even been to a "real" beach - the ocean. I remember when I was younger, the only beaches my closest friends had been to were Alum Creek - which is a damned reservoir in Central Ohio or maybe those at Lake Erie. Because my parents are from Connecticut, I had at least been to a few very tame beaches in Milford, Connecticut, and since then, I have had the fortune of seeing beaches around the world that are anything but tame.
I recalled that, while on holiday in Australia, March of 2019, I had a bit of a scare where I got sucked in to the riptides at Flynn's Beach.... I felt like the waves were helping me out - bringing me in, but with each move forward, the rip was pulling me back. I could see Jason who was wading just a bit from me still able to touch, but I had been swept over near the rocks and was beginning to panic, quietly. A life guard came out and pointed which way I needed to swim. I tried to follow the instructions, but I kept getting pulled back and my efforts were relentless, so I calmly asked, "May I put my hand on your surfboard just to take a break?" He obliged somewhat with a smirk that he knew I wanted rescued but didn't want Jason to see what was happening.... I then quietly asked, "Can you just take me to where I can touch please...?" So he did, and I walked in, laid down to rest, and catch some sun. After about an hour, I lifted my head up, turned to Jason, squinted, put my hand over my forehead to block the sun and said, "Soooo, ok, now that I am safe, I should tell you, I almost died." He smiled and laughed and said something to the effect of, "I saw you were struggling, and I was ready to rescue you if I needed to, but I know you wanted to try to save yourself. I wouldn't have let you die." I laughed, laid back down, and enjoyed the rest of my beach day.
It was that trip to Australia in March of 2019 where I spontaneously made my way to New Zealand for a job interview. A few weeks prior on a random February afternoon, I was sitting at the window counter top, of course people watching , from Weaver's coffee shop in the Castro - one of my favourite spots in San Francisco. My cell phone rang, an international number on the display. I picked up to Max, the Executive Recruiter with whom I had worked a year prior on the "almost move" to Sydney I referenced earlier. After a few pleasantries with this consummate professional to whom I had spoken weekly for 6 months as I progressed all the way to the relocation package, he declared, "I have the perfect job for ....." Before he could finish, I said firmly, "NO." "No?" he replied? "No. I can't even think about this, I am literally moving to London in 6 weeks." He persisted with the guarantee that this was the job for me and implored that I read the job description. I agreed hesitantly, as I had already manifested my move to London (as described in Chapter 4, Part I.) Once I told all of my friends and family about my move to London, they were all very excited and supportive. Alisha threw me a very well themed going away from Ohio and I had some amazing send offs from SF including brunches, picnics, and overall intense displays of true love and friendship that made me so sad to go. I was only able to somewhat cryptically disclose that it might be only for a very short while, as I accepted the interviews with PwC New Zealand.
The London blip and... blunder
meant - I just wanted the right floor plan, new build, private entry, laundry, three bedrooms for my future guests, and I wanted to be able to walk to work with easy access to the Tube without the need to use it during rush hour. (For those who don't know me, I HATE traffic, I hate public transportation, and I HATE commuting. One might say I have both road rage and personal space issues, but we can address that in a future blog).
With 5 massive bags, I left Ohio on Monday, April 15th on a flight to London via a connection in Washington, D.C. My flight out of Columbus was so late that I missed all possible London connections and had to sleep over in DC to take the first Tuesday am flight out. I was previously to arrive in London Tuesday morning with ALL day to get my place set up using items I had shipped to our office in Central London. With this travel debacle, I didn't arrive to London until 10 pm and was in a panic already because I knew I was going to miss going to the office to get sheets and towels when I had meetings in the office on Wednesday. This seemed like the worst of my problems until I told my real estate agent upon entering my taxi at 11 pm that once I got the keys, I just wanted a hot shower and a good night's rest. This is the moment she decided to tell me that not only did my flat not have heat, but I had NO WATER let alone, hot water. I got to my flat at midnight - it was around 40 degrees fahrenheit and all I had to cover my mattress was a towel I stole from Marriott (Shhhh, I am a platinum member), a United airlines blanket, and my winter jacket. I put on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, searched for the nearest gym to check opening times so I could have a shower, and proceeded to try to sleep in the most awkward of positions without moving as nothing would be covering my big booty if I turned on my side.
I went to use the toilets and realised they would not flush, which unfortunately, someone on the construction team didn't realise before doing a number two. So this was my welcoming experience. At 5 am, I walked to Virgin Active, calling on my way to see if I could get a tour as I most likely would be joining.... they don't do day passes and I was desperate. To cut a very very long 90 day story short, I didn't have heat nor hot water for 30 days. I got up every single day and walked to the gym to shower, go to work, walk back to a different gym to meet my trainer, and walk home. Though good for my physical fitness, this was a very very tough time, and I kept it VERY hidden - maybe one of my strongest poker faces I have kept for that long, not letting many people from the US know that I was having a miserable time in the UK. I posted photos of the food I cooked in my kitchen, but didn't share that I had to boil water to do dishes and if I needed to clean up quickly, I had to do what we lovingly call a Hoe Bath with boiled water in my sink and a few towels and messy floors. On top of no water or heat, I also had no mailbox so no mail, a fire hazard door that you had to lock from both sides with a key, no wifi, and it was furnished with the lowest possible grade furniture you can imagine, worse than a college dorm. The furniture was filthy and smelled of smoke, and nothing repaired in my 30 day duration was done properly with any sort of notice, including being walked in on while NAKED by the plumber. It took me three weeks to procure a bank account which caused me to take four weeks to get a cell phone and I never successfully got the wifi set up for reasons that would honestly just make me seem like a whiny bitch.
I was on a date and shared this story; he was shocked and asked how I had not completely lost my shit on anyone. I paused and told a story about my time in Boston and those record blizzards I told you about. One day, during the worst of the storms, I took my dogs out for a walk. I saw lying in a drift of snow, a perfectly happy homeless man smiling at me. I was in three layers of clothes for a ten minute walk and I was miserably cold. This man was LIVING in it, 24 hours a day. I saw the same in Paris, a family sleeping in a bus stop in dirty, wet blankets... If I could not handle a bit of adversity in a three bedroom flat in prestigious London where I could cook my own steak in a designer stainless steel pan, I was just an ungrateful human undeserving of my blessings. What my landlord did was illegal, yes. Was I frustrated, yes. But when I got that written offer to move to New Zealand and could break my lease with zero penalty on the grounds of breech of contract, was I able to see how the universe works, yes!
My view of London from my Dinner Table
The London Blessings
Let me please celebrate a few VERY important things about London. First of all, it has a vibe like no other - a combination of modern daytime activity and nightlife with deep historical roots. It boasts a combination of the most artistic modern architectural structures aside buildings older than I can imagine, pubs with more character and characters (I love the Brits and their dry pub humour), and the melting pot of people makes it a mecca for those who love to see the mixing of cultures. It was one of my all time favourite office experiences working with the London Acumen Solutions team, where I was embraced for my terribly inappropriate jokes and my dreadful attempts at British pronunciation of words like buh-nah-nah and tuh-mah-to. I also HAVE to give a shout out to my mini-me, Nicole, without whom, I would have never even made it 90 days. Nicole, you are seriously my hero.
I also met some of the most amazing people in my short stay. I made friends at cafes - my all time favourite is Monalicious - and met people that I truly LOVE with all of my heart. I walked and I walked, and I walked - I got so fit and felt the healthiest I ever have in my life. I guess having to walk to the gym daily doesn't hurt, but getting to work out at some of the world's best gyms with famous competitive athletes was how I avoided the incredibly overt beer drinking scene. I hosted so many visitors and visited 15 countries with ease given the access to high speed trains and short flights to Europe. This and my utmost respect for my CEO, Dave Joubran, was what made resigning from Acumen one of the most difficult decisions of my life. I think that conversation also deserves its own entry, so let's just leave it at that for now.
And now here I am, in Auckland, living in a "Top Five" city...
I resigned from Acumen after 60 days in London and gave a 30 day notice, my last day being July 12, 2019. I was to start at PwC on August 19, 2019, so I had about five weeks to take the most epic vacation of my life with the best travel companions going from Scotland to Lake District and Stonehenge in England to Austria to Slovakia to Hungary to Czech Republic to the Baltics of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia then on to Finland and Sweden before I made my way across the US stopping in DC to say goodbye to my Acumen family. I spent a week in Ohio and a week in San Francisco, trying not to repeat the going away party vibe since I had just done that 90 days prior. This move - now and for sure was then - was very very confusing to people so I tried to make it make sense with this story, but I can see now looking back, I must seem like a very crazy person.
Crazy or not, I left San Francisco on a Sunday night red eye, August 11, 2019 and arrived in New Zealand on Tuesday. I unloaded at my Corporate Apartment that had heat and hot water, then spent the day at the bank where I was able to accomplish more in two hours than what took 3 weeks in London (no offense London - I was probably better prepared). I spent Wednesday looking at 9 apartments and then tested my top three out by taking an uber to them and then walking to my office from them the rest of the week. By Sunday, I was approved by my top choice apartment and would be allowed to move in the weekend my corporate apartment expired. I furniture shopped and was able to buy almost everything in stock to be delivered the day I moved in. It all felt like super smooth sailing, like that moment at the beach when the waves are at a minimum and the sound of it is all peaceful and positive.
As you all know from reading blog one, my first week may have been the highlight and things have proven to be a bit less rosey since. It's not all doom and gloom, but it is a bit of a roller coaster that I want to share more about - the job, my team, the Kiwi people, the apartment, the culture, etc. But, to be honest, my loving and not so loving relationship with New Zealand deserves its own blog as well. Come back for that one soon, please. For now, please check out my self talk highlights on surviving two international relocations.
March 2019 - View from Mount Eden on "Interview Day" to August 2019 - My Partner Welcome Photo Shoot
Self Talk Highlights:
1. Flynn's and today's beach visits and the windy roads are not part of this story just to make it more interesting and paint a picture of the physical landscape. They are seriously the perfect metaphors for what it is like to move internationally... So many unknowns, twists and turns, friends seeming to be just out of reach, things you cannot control coming at you from every direction, feeling quite hopeless as you take two steps forward and one step back, almost every single day.... waiting, just waiting for that moment where you can lay down, relax, and have someone look you in the eye and say, "I won't let you die."
I have days where I feel almost claustrophobic - like being in another country is similar to being stuffed at the bottom of a sleeping bag with my two big brothers sitting on top of me, beating on me while I scream, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe," to which they reply, "If you can talk, you can breathe." I have had some MAJOR lows and moments where I am not sure if I am going to make it. And then I remembered these and more stories of past lows in my life and thought about what I did to get through them. I realised I have not let that life guard come out to quietly save me and I have not accessed the similar tools available. I have been hiding how frustrated and confused I am so I don't feel like a failure when asking a friend for help actually makes them feel good for helping, not a way to make me feel weak for needing it. Another colleague of mine who is also struggling with an international move told me it took her more than six months to even say out loud she was unhappy because to her that symbolized failure or defeat. The interesting thing is, until I saw it in her, I couldn't see for myself that it's OK to not be the super hero who is unscathed by a culture that isn't 100% accepting. What I cannot do is lose my mojo and withdraw, which was my first reaction. Being myself has gotten me this far in life, and I can't be anyone else. So get ready New Zealand, I found my Mojo at Hot Water Beach and shit is going to get real.
2. About the London flat and why I hid those #firstworldproblems from everyone - when there are alternative ways to handle a situation that is pretty much out of my control, the best I feel I can do is be professional to the messenger (the letting agents), know my rights, set up options, like sleepovers at my bestie's house, and take a lot of long weekend trips. For those with less of a travel budget, I should be clear that I got that first month's rent back also, so I used that rental savings for airbnbs and super cheap flights to get away from my shithole flat for the weekend. I recall in taking a class with Tim Kight at Focus 3 where he taught a great lesson about being our best in life by leveraging a focus on our response to an event to drive the outcome, not a focus on the event itself, E+R=O (Event plus the response equals the outcome). For some reason, I had that mental self talk in London and have some how lost it here in Ne Zealand, feeling like some yucky events have power over me and my response. I am refocusing on that now and plan to foster very positive changes for our office and team in an environment where I believe people truly intend to transform for the better of the community. My response to my environment is critical to the outcome; I owe it to my colleagues and myself to be the person they hired not the person who is internalizing some of the negativity I am experiencing as I acclimate. Maybe instead of being that Katydid who blends in with the environment, which I took to me I could adapt, I need to just accept that I stand out and rarely "fit in" as they say.
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