talk? done.

This thing of being away for work and always feeling like you have just one more thing to do to get ready for the next thing, is actually incredibly tiring. I forget that, between trips. I think that being out of the office is like having a holiday, until I remember that at least the office is safe and familiar, I can sleep in my own bed afterwards, I can have some degree of confidence that I know what I’m doing and not feel like I have to translate my concepts into different cultural contexts, professional backgrounds, and then have it translated into another language. Goddess only knows what it comes out as through that many rounds of translation. I also forget the subtle posturing and quizzing and establishing of common ground that goes on in the conversations between international folk thrown in together in a professional context. Some of it is curiosity, and welcome, and is not some of it (theirs and mine) the chance to wheel out some factoid or personal experience or little nugget of expertise you have, as if to say ‘I know stuff, look at me, I’m clever, I exist’. That, I find absolutely exhausting.

Also I think I would enjoy conferences more if speaking at them was more like stand up comedy – that you could say out loud our fears and foibles, and context, and not just tell the room some success story you’re proud of. I want to name the elephant in the room, all the elephants, it’s like the elephant is all I can see. I want to frame a talk with ‘isn’t it weird that we don’t know each other, and I’ve never even been to your country and yet here I am about to tell you something so random and hope for the best that it means something to you and meanwhile I’m petrified that my story isn’t interesting or that I’m a phony or that actually this whole thing is professional posturing and not something I like’. On second thoughts, maybe listening to everyone’s internal monologue before their talk would not be very funny.

And despite this hyper awareness of the thing I’m doing (let’s face it, probably because of it), I still manage to botch it a bit. I am my own worst conference nightmare. I accidentally become everything I absolutely know that presenters shouldn’t be – intangible, theoretical, esoteric. I have a boring power point presentation and botch the pictures (where did they go? I swear they showed up on my computer) so I am left with a text skeleton without the colourful flesh around it. Even a nicely crafted story that captures key trends in approach to something will only appeal to a tiny sub section of the audience (pedants like me maybe), everybody else likes stories of things they can see and hear and touch. We built this, did this, this happened, this many people came, it was big and red and shiny, and this is how much it cost. Conference goers who are practitioners like tangibles, and my work ends up sounding so woolly (I think). But oh well. Ideas and process innovations are hard to photograph. Maybe this is more confirmation that being the holder of technical knowledge is just not what I love being or doing. I hate to be the expert, my view of reality is something that shifts and dances, how can you pick just one story to tell of it? The map is not the terrain, the cross section is not the engine, my arbitrary decision of how to structure my talk is not the whole of what I see happening or would like to tell you. Conversations are refractory and kaleidoscopic, conference presentations are dull nuggets. Maybe this can be my last conference as a presenter. Maybe I can only do workshops from now on. Is that a reasonable decision to come to? Am I allowed?

I'm tired.
The city is great, the people are wonderful. Frank, gentle, insightful, stylish, pushy, doing cool enviro stuff. The working culture seems delightfully egalitarian and minimally pomp and posturing despite being located in a strong central governance.
The food is fresh and delicious.
The socks with local television stars as cartoons on them are great (but too small for my feet).
I'm tired.
One cup of coffee in the hotel costs more than a plate of pasta and a coffee at a cafe bar down the street which in turn costs twice as much as noodles at the markets.
There is pine nut tea.
The city is safe.
I'm tired.
The people seem to value peace - even hello and goodbye are phrases to do with wishing you peace. Gotta dig that.

Work holiday hotel away talk giving polite conversation remember to eat set alarm don't wake up weird times, look neat, be defferential, talk content, make yourself look like a valuable international guest. etc.