The End

So I suck at keeping a blog. In the last week, I...

• scotch taped my camera to the front of Heather 4 and rode across the island
  
• officially graduated from Queen's
• found out the budget was cut for my project by 30-40% and thus I am going home early
• made plans to go to Scotland for 1.5 weeks instead of going home straight away.

Yeah. I'm leaving tomorrow for Scotland. Back in Toronto on the 12th...I think.

More to come...

Why the Roofs are White

So ever since I've been on the island, I've had this strange fascination with the white rooftops of Bermuda. Last week, when I was in a taxi on the way to Bermuda Airport (to fly home for Thanksgiving), I found out.

The white colour makes sense for cooling purposes. It reflect a lot of the sunlight, and helps keep the stone/concrete buildings cool.

But the more interesting question was why they are so pristinely white. Observe the picture above. Every house has the same clean, white, stepped, pyramid-shaped roof. Well it turns out these roofs stay white because that wash them regularly. Why do they wash them regularly?

Because they drink the water that runs off their roofs.

Yes, almost every house in Bermuda has a cistern underneath it, that fills up as the rain falls. (And man, does it ever rain sometimes - ruined the laptop of one of the Consultants it rained so hard...soaked right through his nylon bag). So all the roofs are made of limestone, which apparently has some sort of natural water filtration properties. The regular house-building process is apparently that you use the stone that you dig up to make your roof.
So it rains and these tanks fill up, and you use this water to flush your toilets, to shower, and yes...to drink. I naively asked the cab driver what happens if a bird/animal defecates on your roof, to which he responded, "yeah, you'll probably eat a little poop sometimes". But apparently these cisterns are so big that any poo you consume would be incredibly dilute. In fact, apparently these cisterns are large enough for a person to fit inside - you need to go down there every 5 years or so to scrub it out. There is a concrete divider inside each cistern so you can fill up one side and go inside the other to scrub. Then you pump the water to the other side and repeat.

Lastly, the roofs are stepped so that the water runs down them more slowly, allowing the cisterns to collect more water instead of having it run straight off.

Cool eh?

Ok so that last post was crappy.

So here's the story. My soon-to-be-former boss is now my former boss; he's returned to Texas. He's the 3rd Project Manager to leave this project early. Why? Well the project, and the client, are...difficult.

So I'm again bossless (the 2nd PM to leave was the one who hired me). This is kind of irritating. You see, without direction, I can't really do much. I just don't have the experience, and I don't really own any aspect of the program. So I'm stuck doing menial tasks in an environment where there is a tremendous amount of pressure to perform and deliver (i.e. "look busy when there's nothing to do"). It's...frustrating.

No unifying theme to these thoughts

So as I sit here in my soon-to-be-former boss's empty apartment (all will be explained)
drinking a Dark'n Stormy (a Bermudian drink - black rum and ginger beer), I can't help but think about how much has gone on in the past two-ish weeks.

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got distracted and didn't finish this post. I will continue where I left off...

So it's been busy.

Shilpa came to visit for 5 days last weekend, which was just incredible. We had a great time on the island; got to play on the beach, went snorkeling and kayaking, and just immensely enjoyed each others company. She has the longer (and girlier) version of the story here. Now it somehow feels like a long time ago...since then she's moved to Scotland, and officially started her life as a PhD student. I miss her, but we're managing the whole thing, despite the awkward time difference. (god bless Skype).

Work has been pretty busy since then. I've consistently been at the office from 8-7, and things have been non-stop. We're gearing up to get a whole bunch of new people on the island to start a variety of new projects (which we've recently acquired funding for) so things will only get busier.

This past weekend was pretty uneventful on the island. Spent some time on the beach before it started raining. Oh, but one interesting thing that happened was I went to go see a concert in a park - the Bermuda Philharmonic Orchestra. They were about as good as a decent university orchestra, but they played popular tunes which kept it interesting and accessible (A Motown Medley and the overture from West Side Story, to name a few). And outdoor concerts are always interesting. Here is a picture:
falling asleep. to be continued...

Shilpa

So Shilpa arrived on the island yesterday afternoon.

It's fantastic having her here.

In light of this, it is unlikely I will be posting anything over the next few days. But here are some things I've been putting off - you can look forward to these next week:

• How to catch a chicken in Bermuda
• Home is glorious. Commuting will always suck.
  
• Why they may be afraid of me.
  

Shil's here for about 5 days - she leaves next Monday, heading back to Toronto (and subsequently leaves for Scotland on Tuesday).

Why I May Never Move Here

A recent grocery bill:

• A bag of BBQ chips - $5.55
• 2L bottle of Coca-Cola - $3.80
• 2 lbs of potato salad - $16.49

Nuff said.

Feeling Good

Things that instantly put me in a good mood:

1. Sunlight
2. Friendly strangers

Now I find myself in a nation which has both of these in abundance.

The job, which was incredibly overwhelming at first, is now starting to make a little more sense, and I feel like I know what I'm supposed to do and where I can make a difference.

Last night I made friends with some local Bermudians, all in their twenties. Obscure connection - they were friends of my cousin's former residence don. Yeah, obscure. But you gotta make friends any way you can, right? All of them were really cool; friendly and fun-loving with great attitudes. The main activity of the night was a game of poker, in which the losers were punished with 50 pushups and the winner received a toy car. This happens every month. And a bunch of the guys like Jiu Jitsu. Naturally, we got along great.

So the job outlook is positive, new friends, sunlight, and a friendly culture. I'm definitely starting to warm up to the idea of living here, for as long as another year. Perhaps I shouldn't jinx it; the honeymoon will surely wear off. But for now, I'm loving life.

Spent today at the beach, which was awesome. White sand, warm water (crystal clear), and Harry Potter made for a relaxing day.

Bermudian Business is Screwed Up

--- Warning: this post will bore some ---

So people from home always ask what in god's name I'm doing here. So here's the answer.

Bermuda is a terrible place to do business.

First, there's a palpable tension between two business cultures: British and American. The British culture is pervasive throughout the island: they love premier league football, they spell colour with a 'u', and they are generally polite (with pleasantries, etc).

A lot of the business is very British as well. They avoid confrontation, preferring understated, subtle (even sarcastic) remarks. They are very hierarchical. They dress very formally, but still do silly things like Bermuda shorts and knee-socks.

A lot of American culture is present as well. I come home from work and watch American sitcoms on American channels. Tourism is a major part of the economy, and guess where tons of the tourists come from? There's even a Kentucky Fried Chicken on the island (apparently the only fast food franchise allowed to set up shop here, and the paperwork was hell). A ton of investment comes from American money, which means that there are a lot of Americans filling big finance roles.

They operate a little differently. Generally speaking, American business favours confrontation. They like flat (or just plain confusing) organizational structures, promoting a pretense of equality. They don't book as many meetings; and things often get done in informal chats in the hallways.

So Bermuda is a little confused sometimes. The Brits and the Americans try to play nice, but they're often speaking different languages.

The second reason Bermuda is a weird place to do business is the size of the businesses vs. the size of the population. There are only 60,000 people in all of Bermuda, but somehow the investment banks manage billions of dollars in assets every day. This is extremely disproportionate compared to the small labour force that is here supporting it. So they import accountants and other professionals from around the globe to augment the workforce: about 30% of Bermuda’s workforce are non-Bermudians. So we have a further mish-mash of styles and methods.

Finally, nothing is regulated. In Canada, a bank has rules it has to follow, most of which we are unaware of and take for granted. Our money is insured (we give it to them, they have to give it back; it’s the law). Our information is protected (several times over). The services are backed by guarantees, and they have detailed plans in case of emergencies.

In Bermuda they have no plans. They have no backups. And a humourous amount of the infrastructure is made up of makeshift solutions.

This is a problem.

We fix problems. That's why we're here.

Shorts...or Pants?

So I like to play this game when I'm walking down the street...

First, allow me to explain something. You know Bermuda shorts? Well people actually wear them here (hence the name). But not only do they wear them -- they love wearing them. And everyone does it. Men of all ages, races, and occupations don their knee socks and a pair of (often brightly coloured) shorts. The most popular colours seem to be standard navy and khaki, as well as a host of pastel colours (yellow, pink, turquoise), and "bermuda red". Which is really just red.

So back to the game...

So there are cars/scooters parked along the sides of the road, so often you'll see businessmen walking down the street and you can only see them from the waist up. So to pass the time I try and guess what they'll be wearing underneath: shorts...or pants (in my head I always say this like "Deal or No Deal").

I find I'm humourously wrong a large portion of the time. You see, you think you can judge by someone's appearance, but you can't. In one example, there was this old dude, a real old-money kind of guy: white hair, full beard, crisp white shirt, and a double breasted navy blue blazer with gold buttons. Very distinguished looking fellow.

He cleared the line of parked cars: pink shorts and red knee-socks. Awesome.

It's more fun than it sounds.

Pictures I

See? All the buildings are this kind of pastel colour.

Me on H4 in front of my hotel.

Heather #4, in all her glory.

Some more pictures are posted at http://picasaweb.google.com/richdchang/Bermuda