Barack Obama and Soft Power

Joseph Nye has an excellent blog post: Barack Obama and Soft Power on today's The Huffington Post, articulating why Obama's style of Soft Power is so necessary for America's international influence. When I lived in London my co-workers were cautiously optimistic that Obama would become President. There concerns are well articulated in Nye's post.

Nye is the author of The Powers to Lead (2008) which I haven't read yet but is now on my short list of books to devour.

Counterfeit Peeps

As fellow Peeps lovers know this is the time when these yummy treats are ripe for picking and popping. I was trying to explain the joy of peeps to my UK work associates and I could tell they just weren't feeling the love. Unfortunately I ate the box my sister sent over for my birthday so I can't show them a sample.

People either love or hate peeps. There's nothing in between. To prove my theory I asked our current American intern if she likes Peeps - her immediate reaction was to scrunch up her nose and say yuck. I don't begrudge her since I know they are gross. That doesn't mean I can stop eating them.


Searching online for Peeps info I found this fantastic product: Marshmallow Peeps Maker. Unfortunately it seems to be discontinued as this WalMart site says not available online and not available in stores. Maybe peeps year-round would over-saturate the market. Is there a black market for peeps? Counterfeit peeps? Whamo!

Be Kind ReMind

Be kind to yourself and go see Be Kind Rewind. The title of this blog post says ReMind and that is how the title of the film is introduced and then the M turns upsidedown to become a W. This film is all about reMinding. Remember your neighbors, your history, your passion, and your old movie favorites. If you want to change history simply Swede - mix it up and make your own version.

Visit the movie website for some cool Sweding including a Swede of Google. Type a movie title into the Sweded Google search field and, amazing, it comes up with all kinds of results that have been Sweded.

For some reason this film made me more homesick for the States than anything I've experienced in a while. Something about that American dream of becoming anything you want.

Everybody needs a good whinge partner

Whinge isn't a word that I heard before moving to the UK. It basically means whining and complaining, but it is one of those British terms that goes that extra mile, I mean kilometer, to provide the perfect description. Whinging is ageless while whining is something you would use more to describe kids.

By the way whinge is pronounced windj as in wind with a j sound at the end. (This reminds me of how my great uncle Syd use to spell Kweskin "we skin with a k").

I believe a good whinge requires a witness, someone who is there to fully receive your whinging. That was the role I played today for one of my work associates who we will call Mr. Whinge. Mr. Whinge doesn't like change and unfortunately he is facing it head-on with a web-based program that has recently been modified to present information in a different format from what he is used to. Instead of brushing him off as he whinged about the program, I decided instead to sit next to Mr. Whinge and fully witness, encourage and embrace his whinging.

Mr. Whinge went on and on about how the new presentation format just didn't work for him. He had to hit this button and that key and request this document until he finally got to what he needed (whinge, whinge, whinge). Unfortunately while I was sitting there coaching him through the whinge session he actually found a solution to his problem. This nearly disrupted his whinge but being a professional whinger he expertly obsessed over how prior to this new discovery the presentation format didn't work for him.

Mr. Whinge: It is so annoying. Why did they change it? I can't find what I need (whinge, whinge, whinge.)

Amy: Look, you just figured out a way to make it work for you. (annoyingly chipper, solution-focused American)

Mr. Whinge: But it didn't work before and that is so annoying. (whinge, whinge, whinge)

Amy: You figured it out. That's great.

Mr. Whinge: But now I have to remember how to make it work. (whinge, whinge, whinge)

Amy: How about we check-in next week and you can tell me how it's working for you?

Mr. Whinge: There will be little bits of shredded paper all over the floor and pieces of the computer embedded in the wall by then. (whinge, whinge, whinge)

Amy: Fantastic, I look forward to viewing the mess. (chipper American)

It was quite amusing for me, and I think even for Mr. Whinge, that I fully indulged his whinging. After all, he really just wanted some attention and I didn't need to provide any solutions. It was a rather therapeutic session. I highly recommend getting a whinge partner.

The Hidden Rules of English Behaviour

Our English friends Adam and Tabitha gave us a hugely helpful book for the holidays - Watching the English: The Hidden Rules of English Behaviour by Kate Fox. Prior to moving to England this should be required reading for future residents. I've been diligently reading it during my daily commute on the London tube and in true English fashion people have been showing little reaction although I can see that they are reading the title. I suppose it has become my armour.

Here is a sample insight:

"It is not considered entirely polite, for example, to ask someone directly 'What do you do?', although if you think about it this is the most obvious question to put to a new acquaintance, and the easiest way to start a conversation. But in addition to our privacy scruples, we English seem to have a perverse need to make social life difficult for ourselves, so etiquette requires us to find a more roundabout, indirect way of discovering what people do for a living. It can be most amusing to listen to the tortured and devious lengths to which English people will go to ascertain a new acquaintance's profession without actually asking the forbidden question. The guessing game, which is played at almost every middle-class social gathering where people are meeting each other for the first time, involves attempting to guess a person's occupation from 'clues' in remarks made about other matters.

A comment about traffic problems in the local area, for example, will elicit the response, 'Oh, yes, it's a nightmare - and the rush hour is even worse: do you drive to work?' The other person knows exactly what question is really intended, and will usually obligingly answer the unspoken enquiry as well as the spoken one, saying something like, 'Yes, but I work at the hospital, so at least I don't have to get into the town centre.' The questioner is now allowed to make a direct guess: 'Oh, the hospital - you're a doctor, then?' (When two or three possible occupations are indicated, it is polite to name the highest-status one as a first guess - doctor rather than nurse, porter or medical student; solicitor rather than secretary. Also, even though an explicit guess is permitted at this stage, it is best expressed as an interrogative statement, rather than as a direct question.)... [pages 44-45]

Good golly we Americans would just say, "so what is it that you do?" Who knows how many times I've inadvertently embarrassed an English person when I've been so forward? Or perhaps they are relieved by my directness?

Thanksgiving Across the Pond

Stephen and I made a spectacular Thanksgiving in London last night. We invited over a friend from my work and his partner. Adam is half American, half English and Tabitha is all English so we had a two and a half British and one and a half Americans. Pretty much the current exchange rate.

Even though there was no rush here for shopping I felt the same got-to-get-to-the-store anxiety that you get in the States when preparing the menu. It must just be part of Thanksgiving. We rarely entertain so I had to pick up some essentials such as napkins, placemats, a Pyrex dish and even some water glasses. Thanks to Woolworths it was no great expense.

Here's our menu:

Rack of Lamb - Stephen prepared
Quinoa stuffing - made with quinoa bread, everyone thought it was cornbread! (photo on right)
Roasted butternut squash and sweet potatoes with dried fruit and maple syrup - yum
Minted peas - a bit of a British twist on the meal
Cranberry sauce - for colour
Smashed potatoes - my first attempt
Gravy - from a mix, I admit
Baked apples - studded with cloves and spiked with a Cinnamon stick, sweetened with honey - yum
Chocolate truffles - thanks to our guests

The best part of the meal was how excited Adam and Tabitha were to celebrate their first Thanksgiving. Plus, they kept saying how fantastic everything tasted. Guests like these are always welcome again.

Are You Speaking My Language?

Have you ever had the experience of you're words being translated during a conversation? An interpreter seems to be obligated to interpret everything and suddenly you see you're words coming to life. More than that, you see you're speech nuances in all their idiosyncratic forms.

That's what happened today when I met with a woman who works for the Royal National Institute for the Deaf. My work associate and I invited her to meet with us to discuss our training courses, which she had recently attended, to determine if we could make them more accessible for people with specialised learning requirements. Next week we meet with the Royal National Institute for the Blind about our books.

Coordinating the meeting was easy enough over email. That immediately broke down a latent fear I must have been holding of not being able to understand someone who is deaf. Her emails were casual and fun.

For the meeting she came to our offices and brought along an interpreter. Another fear broken down - she looked like someone I would hang out with - a potential friend. Even her high energy was something I could relate to.

We started our meeting and that's when I had the most difficulty. Although I was talking to her she had to look at the interpreter. Then I started to talk to the interpreter instead of her. But she could speak her response clearly so it was like a three way conversation with my work associate looking on in wonderment.

Suddenly my casual meeting-banter was being translated and I began to stumble, pause, repeat myself. I found myself saying "proactively" a lot. Then I pointed it out and the translater translated it, with all my facial expressions. Luckily it was an easy-going conversation and it seemed that she got my humour - or at least was polite enough to giggle along with me. Yes, I think she got it.

The net outcome (how's that for biz speak?) was that we came up with some good ideas for making our programmes (how's that for British spelling?) more accessible, proactively. I was so inspired that I took the moment beyond the meeting and was able to get the title sponsor for our next event to hire a sign language interpreter.

Later I was thinking about how difficult it must be to make friends if you can't verbally communicate. Yes, there are other ways of communicating but for me hanging out and chit-chatting is really important. Maybe I can learn sign language - then the next question is American or British?

Above Image from Sign Language Interpreter Services in Glasgow.

O Canada!

Its official, people think I'm from Canada. Three times over the past two weeks I've been asked if I'm Canadian. Is Connecticut close enough to the border to pass as Canada? Apparently I "don't have a harsh American accent." Interesting.

I've explained to all these folks that they can tell if someone is from Canada if they pronounce "about" as "a boot" - its that Scottish accent peaking through.

One woman who mistook me for a Canadian apologised repeatedly because she knows how insulted Americans become if they are called Canadians. Really? Frankly, I never think about Canada. How Central North American of me.

Getting into Rapport

A big thing I learned in the NLP course about being a good communicator is getting in rapport with an individual or group. This means matching them physiologically without looking like you're doing it. You can match by crossing your leg the same way, pacing your breathing, the tone, pitch, speed of your voice, hand gestures, tilt of the head and tilt of the body are a few examples.

You will know you're in rapport when you can make a subtle change in any of these and the other persons unconsciously responds. Give it a try with a friend who is willing to give it a go. Try having a conversation about a topic on which you disagree but you're deliberately being in rapport. It is really hard to disagree! Now try it with a subject that you both agree about and be out of rapport. You'll see that it is really hard to agree when you are out of rapport.

Recently I've noticed that I'm a head nodder. My head bobs up and down all throughout conversations and meetings. I don't think I noticed it while living in the States but here I feel like a bobble head doll. This past weekend I tried not doing it and I found it really hard to stay still.

Over the past two days I've had face to face conversations with American women who are my age and definitely my energy level. You know what? They bob too. It must be an American thing, a way of building rapport. There we went, bobbing away, stepping closer to each other, matching our breathing. I hope they didn't know I was NLPing them.

One Year and One Week and Now I Speak the Queen's English

Can you believe I've lived in London for one year and one week? Feels longer and shorter. No worries about a fake accent, I still think in American. However, I do have some nifty new expressions in my vocabulary.

Blag - talking your way into the VIP room

Cheeky - smooth talk to get your way

Pear shaped - something has gone completely wrong

Cheers for that - used mid-sentence to say thanks "Got the file you sent me, cheers for that, it was really useful."

Cuppa - a cup of tea "care for a cuppa?"

Bugger off - describing how you told someone to get away. "That guy kept bothering me so I told him to bugger off."

Chugger - charity mugger - this is a concept unique to the UK. People stand on the sidewalks and accost you into making a donation. Feels like you've been mugged by a charity. I give them the evil eye and shake my head "no" which seems to work. Kinda like using bug spray.

Do you think the Queen would be proud of my adoption of her English?