Beyond Debits and Credits

And that's how you Pay It Forward

2012-01-19T17:55:00.015-05:00

These days, it's quite easy to distinguish a first year from a second year MBA student in the Darden hallways. A slow, sure, somewhat bored gait is definitely that of a second year's--possibly sporting a tan from his/her winter break vacation in the Caribbean islands. But spot a suit and tie or pencil skirt-clad student, nervously pacing outside the interview rooms, there's your first year. He/She is clutching the Darden leather folder and anxiously reviewing his/her notes for the upcoming internship interview. These are common sights in the Darden hallway. But behind the scenes are quite different.

The Sunday before classes for second years started, I went to school to hold a mock interview with a first year. I had gotten an email asking for interview preparation help and I was happy to help. I was surprised to get to school at around 10am and see most of the learning team rooms occupied with first years and a number of second years helping the first years prep. This brings me back to a year ago when I myself was a nervous first year who was looking up at second years and eagerly absorbing their advice on something as measly as what to wear during interviews.

In between classes, you see the piano room and cafeteria filled with first and second year students chatting over coffee about interview preparations and sharing notes about companies. I've heard my first year friends tell me how helpful the seniors are, moving and shuffling their own schedules to accommodate meetings with them. You even see second years doing three or more mock interviews with first years in one day, on top of regular classes and club activities. This may not sound like a big deal, but you have to realize how valuable a second year's time is. That second year student also went through hell of a time during his/her first year--with the very rigorous curriculum, resume/cover letter drops, interview preparations, and almost quarter-long internship where he/she was under a very scrutinizing microscope. So, that second year was very much looking forward to his/her final year in grad school--the one that his past seniors promised would be filled with tons of tee and ski time, camping trips, wine tastings, and catching up with whatever things he/she had to give up during the first year including sleeping and exercising.

This reminds me of the reason why I chose Darden for my MBA. There was that promise of a close-knit community where students lived next to each other, watched college games together, dog-sat for each other, and just really helped each other. Well, the fact that Darden is in the college town of Charlottesville and the next city and big bar is some 70 miles away is probably a factor. But hey, we could have chosen to nauseate ourselves crazy visiting all 200+ vineyards in the Virginia area but we're not exactly doing (just) that.

So to my fellow second years, kudos for paying it forward. The Darden community salutes you for your effort, sacrifice, and strong commitment to helping your fellow Dardenites be a little closer to achieving their ambitions. Cherish that warm feeling you get when the first years you coached get the job offers they wanted. It's like winning the bet on that right horse. Or just kinda.

To the first years who already have summer internship job offers, a hearty congratulations! Give yourselves a pat in the back and do try to enjoy the rest of your first year without studying too much. You will eventually rummage through your DA notes for when you use Crystal Ball during your summer internship.

To those still searching for a job, hang in there. It may be difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel now, but believe us when we say that it will all work out.

To all first years, thank the second years who took time out to help you be a little more prepared, walk a tad more confidently, and talk like you know the real reasons behind the Eurozone crisis. And remember, PAY IT FORWARD. Remind the first years of the class of 2014 why they chose Darden as their MBA school--and that goes beyond the extra rigorous academic training, $5 wine tastings, TNDC (Thursday Night Drinking Club), and the oh-so-beautiful grounds. Those are just the bonuses, of course.

P.S.
No specific reason for this particular photo. Just that I wanted to share how beautiful this view was walking back to my apartment. Perhaps that's another Darden bonus.

Walk It Off, Girl

2011-11-09T19:49:00.015-05:00

Now that recruiting season for second year MBAs are here once again, it's common to hear one MBA say to another, "Suck it up!" or "Walk it off!" Yes, we do need to suck it up when interviews are scheduled one after another with barely a restroom break in between. And we also need to walk it off (quite more often than we want to) when we get the much regretted rejection calls or emails.

I've been heavily immersed with recruiting preparations for the past weeks now. Networking nights started in early September where we had to dress in suits and chat up company representatives. Of course, we had to do good research before we went to these events. A glass of wine in hand and enough alcohol in our systems to give us courage, we would try engaging a company recruiter by asking (what we hoped were) intelligent questions and sharing our views on their recent company performance or acquisition. The goal: try not to make him/her yawn while you're mid-sentence, and yeah, get an interview invite. After networking nights came resume drops. This entailed making cover letters for each company, which of course had to be tailor-fitted to the industry, the people you spoke with, your company fit, etc. Whoever worked the darnedest in networking and prayed the hardest got the interview invite. Then comes more intensive company research (read: financial reports, company-related news in the past year, executive board resumes, etc.) and interview preparations.

Modesty aside, I think I was quite diligent in my preparations. I've filled notebooks on company research, reviewed relevant school notes for possible technical questions, and smiled my widest during company networking events. So when I received numerous interview invites, I was very happy. However, I was waiting for one particular interview invite. The company was one of my top companies and I had worked my ass off in networking with them. So honestly, I was quite confident I would get that much coveted interview invite. Anxiety got the better of me so I would constantly check my email during ungodly hours to see if they've sent me the invite. When finally they released the interview invites, almost everyone I knew got one. All but me. I knew I was being arrogant but I couldn't believe it. I even emailed our career development office to ask if they might have gotten my email wrong. Alas, everything was as it should be. And that meant I didn't make the cut. For both positions I was applying for. The worst part was that the company invited over half of the people who submitted their resumes--a fairly high yield. A 50% chance of getting in and I wasn't even part of that best half. Not even as alternate.

At that point, I was devastated. I felt rejected and just plain miserable. I had been invited to interview by almost all companies I had dropped for and now this. The ultimate rejection from one of my top companies. When these things happen, you start doubting yourself. You begin asking, "Why am I not good enough?" "What did I do wrong?" "What did I not do?" You start scrutinizing every email you exchanged with the company recruiters. You start reviewing your cover letter for the nth time. I was even almost certain I spelled the company name wrong or put a different company name hence the no invite. But after spending an agonizing hour retracing my steps, nothing seemed amiss. I just had to accept the fact that I wasn't good enough for them.

Then came the tears. And two hours later, the anger. I thought to myself, "Hey, a good number of companies want me so if you don't want me, fine!" A friend suggested I bid my points to still get an interview invite despite not getting it on the first cut. I knew this still made my chances very slim since my resume was not good enough in the first place. But I did it anyway. I bid all of my points to both positions they were recruiting for and prayed again. This time I got the interview invites for both roles but at the back of my mind I knew it was still a second-rate invite--one I had to buy my way in.

With only a few days to prepare, I did my usual company research and interview preparation. For the first round of interviews, I had two 30-minute interviews for each position which meant a total of 2 hours of interviewing. One thing I didn't see coming were the case interviews. The candidates were given hypothetical scenarios ranging from launching a new product line to opening a plant in a new geographic location. We were then asked to share our strategy in each scenario. Some interviewers were more intense in giving us hypothetical numbers to work with. With no calculator or computer available, it was long division all over again.

I did get to the final round for both positions, which was the very next day. This time, each candidate had two 45-minute interviews for each position. For me, this meant three hours. Straight. More cases and more behavioral questions. By my last interview, my bladder was ready to burst and I had my arm propped on the table, supporting my aching head. The interviewer had this amused look on his face, "We've been working you hard, haven't we?" Me: "You have no idea." How I managed to survive is still a mystery to me.

Three hours later, I get a call from the company extending me full-time offers for both positions. I was in total shock. At best, I thought I'd get one offer.

I walked home with a very happy heart. I couldn't thank God enough. But I was still wondering, "How?" How can this one company who did not want me in the first place so as to deny me an interview invite now change its mind and give me two offers (a very rare thing to do)? Is it possible to change a recruiter's mind about a candidate? Is one's resume really not a good picture of a candidate? Or is it perhaps one's persistence and one's determination that makes a well-rounded candidate?

To the first year MBA's out there and those still dropping resumes, don't let an interview reject get you fully down. Yes, it's devastating. Yes, it can be one of the worst things to happen to you in MBA world but hey, it's not the end. Go bid those points and spend it wisely. That's another good shot for you. Show them that there's a whole lot more to you than what your resume or cover letter says. Show them what you're really made of.

So the next time you're faced with rejection, remember: Walk it off, girl.

Summer Musings

2011-09-05T16:08:00.029-04:00

First off, a huge apology is in order. I've been neglecting my blogging duties and have terribly missed writing over the summer. No excuses on my part and I'm hoping to make up for my blogging absence in the next months as the second year MBA promise of more time for leisurely activities finds me.

Now that the dog days are almost over, allow me to backtrack a little bit and muse on the have beens.

"Cubed"
Having been absent from the workforce scene for over a year now, I found myself awkward and a little lost in the maze called corporate America. As I started my MBA internship and slowly assimilated myself back to the reality of corporate life, I kissed goodbye to my sheltered student life at Darden. Goodbye 10am classes, Hello 5:30am wake up call. Adios afternoon snacks/naps, Hola endless back-to-back meetings. Being at work again made me reminisce my student life. I remember feeling so "work-sick" when I was a few months into school. I missed the surprises of daily work challenges, working with different people from different functions of the company, and best of all, I missed the monthly paycheck. I never thought I'd say this but being back on the payroll again made me miss student life! I did enjoy the paycheck and seeing my bank balance have credit transactions instead of just debits. And I did like interacting with people outside of my MBA circle but boy, whoever said student life is the best sure knew what he was talking about.

I spent my summer internship in a big retail company in Chicago, IL. After spending five years working in the finance function, I opted for a general management position and I wasn't disappointed. My role called for a good balance among very diverse disciplines--marketing, finance, sales, project management, and team management included. I wish I'd paid more attention to my Decision Analysis class when we discussed regressions and other statistical tools because I found myself working with a 50-million member database mining for useful and relevant marketing/sales insights. I had to rummage through my school notes and cases we discussed in class to remind myself how to interpret t-stats. The retail industry itself was highly challenging especially in an economy where consumer spending could do a lot more than just improve. We were faced with intense competition by other retail giants and internal calls for more budget savings, process efficiency, and increased productivity. So, it's safe to say that there were no dull moments.

Now, the hardest part of every internship is the very limited time-frame. I was working on a big project with a 12-week timeline. Take the one week of orientation and I was down to 11 weeks. When one has to orient herself with a new industry, get to know who's who in the corporate ladder, and actually implement the recommendations, 11 weeks is all too short. So yes, suffice it to say that my summer back at work was very challenging.

Never Under-estimate the Power of LO
At Darden, we have this course called Leading Organizations (LO). This course is taught in the first term of all first years and aims to develop the softer side of leadership skills. At first, I found the course to be too touchy-feely. We were talking about how to manage people's feelings; how to deal with a very diverse team where people had different cultures, values, and business practices. At times, there were role-playing sessions where students with pretend to be the characters in the cases and simulate actual conversations (or even confrontations) in the work place dealing with conflicts and issues. In my mind, I felt that these things could not actually be taught and eventually learned. I thought that these were things that were more innate and natural to human beings. And I was arrogant enough to believe that after working for five years in the corporate world, I most probably have encountered most kinds of people and hence know how to deal with anyone. I have to say, I couldn't have been more wrong. And it was a hard lesson learned.

After being sheltered in the MBA cocoon for almost a year, I got accustomed to being around people who were the same mold as I was--mostly Type A individuals, highly-driven, assertive and ambitious--your typical MBA student. Sadly, I forgot that outside this sheltered world of mine, more than one type of person exists. I forgot that people will not think exactly the same way I do nor will they share the same passions that I have. Not that I have more to offer, just that we each have different perspectives and different priorities and it takes more than a fancy spreadsheet model or your confidence and assertiveness to get people to believe in you and see things your way. In fact, I realize that sometimes you don't need for people to see things your way. People will use different lenses in looking at the same thing and so long as you arrive at the same conclusion, there's the pat in the back. The rest, as they say, is all in a day's work.

So yes, don't ever under-estimate the power of LO. Don't think that just because this class will not equip you with regression techniques and Excel shortcuts, it won't prepare you for when you go back to the real world. You will need more than quantitative prowess to achieve results. More than that, you will need to lead people to the right direction and find creative means to do this. Realize that you won't be leading a herd. One sheep won't be the same as the one beside it. It will be something closer to leading a whole zoo. Some will jump at your command, others will crawl, and others still could sting you. So, never forget the power of LO. It's a jungle out there!

Kindle the Way
They say that the suburbs is for people with families. So I thought I'd live single life to the fullest and live close to downtown Chicago. People did warn me about the horrendous commute but I thought I'd brave it. Alas, I'm not as brave as I thought I was! My commute from downtown Chicago to the suburbs where my office was was almost tolerable, at best. It was a 1.25-hour commute one way via train and bus. That meant waking up at an ungodly hour and reaching home when the sun was almost setting. That also meant that my two-month old Kindle (e-book reader) was going to be rightfully depreciated! So, I successfully finished six long books over the summer with most of the reading done over my long commute. I actually found myself looking forward to my commutes to get back to the exciting reading!At this rate, I could be a spokesperson for Amazon!

Give me back my rice!
Over the summer, I was living with three roommates, all of whom were American. I was very lucky that all four of us got along well and maximized what Chicago bars and restaurants had to offer. Most of our co-interns also shared the same passion for food and good bars so we explored much of Chicago cuisine and bar scenes. I only had one complaint: I felt rice-deprived! Asian that I was, I'm used to eating rice at least 2-3x a week. However, my American roommates always wanted to go to these American brunch places where the staple in the menu was sandwiches--in every concoction you can think of but one with rice! So one Friday, when we were supposed to have our regular brunch time (usually at different brunch places), I actually bailed out on them and ordered in some cheap Chinese food! Ah, you know how they cook it in that sweet, spicy, greasy way and with lots of rice? Oh. So. Good!

Death by Butts and Guts
Another thing about my roommates is that they were very health-conscious. Not that I live a very unhealthy lifestyle and I do love my carbs but they took gymming to a different level! We all enrolled at a Wicker Park gym and even got a special group discount for the summer. I'm used to working out 3-4x a week but they all worked out almost every day! Some days I'd be too tired from work and from the long commute that I'd go straight to the couch, turn the TV on and watch Suits or Sex and the City re-runs. When my roommate comes home, he'd see me on the couch and say "See Yumi, that's how you start getting a fat a**!" Told ya they take working out seriously! I obviously would feel guilty afterwards for not working out so every Friday afternoon, I would drag myself to this intense workout class called "Butts and Gutts." The class is appropriately named as it focuses on toning the buttocks and abs. It was a very intense one-hour class where the strict and uptight instructor would shout commands like "Clench those butts girls!" I'm guessing I burned more than 1000 calories each workout. So everytime my roommate would catch my lying on the couch and eating while watching television, I'd defend myself by saying that I had enough pre-paid butts and gutts workout to last me for three days! Of course, I also had enough muscle aches and pains to last me for six!

So there, that I think pretty much sums up my summer experiences. Back in good old college town Charlottesville now makes me miss the windy city very much. I miss the very diverse bars and restaurants. I miss the fact that you can hail a cab from the street way past midnight. I miss that you can ride the bus or train to practically anywhere in Chicago. Most of all, I miss my new friends--my roommates and co-interns who all made my summer memorable! But going back to Charlottesville made me realize something. When I came back to my apartment, opened my room and sat on my bed, I actually said to myself, "It's good to be home." So yes, this is home. As far as it is from my real home in the Philippines and as different as it is, it has become my home for the past year now and will be in the next year. And believe it or not, I'm actually looking forward to staying here, with its country beauty--limited dining options and no cabs beyond 12 midnight and all!

Hola Barcelona!

2011-03-31T13:59:00.020-04:00

Two weeks ago, Darden students finally got their much-deserved break from classes and recruitment--two full weeks of Spring break! Growing up in a wet/dry season country, I never experienced this wondrous holiday. So to make the most of it, I decided to sign up for Darden's Global Business Experience (GBE) in Barcelona, Spain. This was equivalent to one full class in school and it was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world with no cases and no spreadsheets involved. So yes, it was a no-brainer for me. It was going to be Spain for me for over a week!

Before I bore you with a daily journal of my experience focused on Barcelona's great art and architecture and adding my own takes on its business context, let me share with you some anecdotal highlights of my experience.

Almendras, por favor?
On my first night in Barcelona, we were sitting in a Spanish bar and restaurant watching the football game between FC Barcelona and Getafe. Of course, the place was packed with Barça fans making it very difficult to get a waiter's attention. I had wanted a bowl of peanuts to go with our jar of Sangria. When I finally got his attention, I proceeded asking, "Hablas Ingles?" (Do you understand English?). He curtly said, "No." I've been warned about this great language barrier but still braved going to Spain with just a printout of commonly-used Spanish phrases a friend was kind enough to give me. Perhaps "peanuts" in Spanish might sound like its English version. So I tried asking while seemingly trying to conjure a bowl between my two hands, "Peanuts, por favor?" He looked at me blankly and shrugged his shoulders. Hmm... The internet should be useful in a time like this. So I said, "esperar (wait)," pulled out my iPhone and searched for "peanuts in Spanish." I showed the screen to the waiter in the hopes that he could decipher what I was asking for. For some reason, this did not prove to be effective since he again shook his head and shrugged. Ah, don't they always say that a picture is worth a thousand words? So I searched for peanut images. Lo and behold, a beautiful photo of peanuts in a bowl which I excitedly showed him. As if a eureka moment had just occurred to him, he said, "Ah, almendras! Sí, sí!" and rushes off to the kitchen. Ah, the irony! All this trouble and frustration and the answer was in my last name. Of course I knew that my last name meant almonds in Spanish. But I had wanted peanuts and not almonds. Still, it could have saved me the trouble to use it as reference. I guess the obvious is never the first choice. Well, suffice it to say that it was one of the best roasted almonds I've had. Perhaps it went well with the delicious Sangria (sweetened red wine) or because I never exerted that much effort in getting myself a simple bowl of nuts.

Dinners at 10pm, Sangria galore, and Barcelona's nightlife
My mind and stomach have been trained to eat dinner at 7pm. This was tested and challenged during my trip to Barcelona when I realized that dinner was served two to three hours later. Who eats dinner at 10pm?! Apparently, the Spanish do. How can one even fully digest the meal before going to bed? Well, the Spanish can because nightly parties start at 11pm or 12mn and ends until the sun rises. Not only did I have to adjust my body clock for the 6-hour time difference but I also had to settle into a new routine. We would start our day at 8am with breakfast at the hotel. Spanish and continental cuisine were the day's order so it was bacon, eggs, and churros for breakfast. Classes (held in IESE business school) started at 9am and ended at around 12nn. Our afternoons were spent touring and appreciating the city's art and architecture. We were back at the hotel at around 6:30pm, took a 2-3 hour siesta (nap) and met at the hotel lobby for dinner plans at around 9pm. Dinners were usually a good mix of tapas and lots of Sangria and lasted until around 11pm. And then the nightlife began!

Barcelona bars and clubs are unlike those I've seen from home and here in the US. For one, the Spanish really know how to make drinks! Order a rum and coke and the bartender would fill a little more than 1/2 of a big glass with rum and filled the rest with coke (no diet coke, mind you). So yes, it was more than potent. Since the clubs only start to really swing at 1am, we would get our cocktail fixes by bar-hopping then proceeded to club-hopping. Some of Barcelona's best clubs were facing the beach so it was dancing by the beach for us. Barcelonians also take dancing very seriously. All the clubs we went to had a minimum of three dance floors (one had one dance floor per level) with varying music from hip hop, house, to pop--whatever sways your liking. You can even see the age group differences in the dance floors! And for those who wanted a break from the dancing, you can comfortably sit in the plush couches and be entertained by the attractive ladies dancing in the podiums. If the dance floor craze is too much for you, a few steps brings you to a gorgeous view of Barcelona's beach and city lights, the soft sounds of the sea and the slightly cool evening breeze. Let's just say it was a helluva party!

Team Barça
During our free day, I visited Camp Nou, the football stadium in Barcelona and home to FC Barcelona. I'm not a football fan myself but after watching a live game in Madrid's Santiago Bernabeu stadium (Madrid vs. Lyon), curiosity got the better of me and so I went on a Camp Nou tour. And my, was it an experience! In the huge museum, you could see all the FC Barcelona moments that made history and re-live them using the six multimedia areas, 8-meter interactive table, and 35-meter audio-visual projection. Most multimedia areas used touch screen technology which really felt like being in one of those Mission Impossible movies. You can run through the player's tunnel; see the pitch from a view only the most expensive tickets can offer you; pretend you are the great Lionel Messi photographed in the press room; and you even get a peek of the players' changing rooms, jacuzzi tub and all.

Before that day, I never realized just how big football was in Spain and the rest of Europe. Even more surprising for me was how one sport can bond a whole nation. Like they say about Barça--it's more than a club.

Now, on to the serious stuff. I've logged a daily journal of my take on our classes, field trips, and the beautiful sights of Barcelona. Not only because it was a course requirement (which it was), but also because I would want to remember these rare moments.

Day 1 – March 20, 2011
Casa Batllo
After a lot of introductions to revered artist Antonio Gaudi and his famous works, finally Casa Batllo—one of Gaudi’s most celebrated work of art. Standing across the street in Passeig de Gracia, taking in the view of this strange-looking but quite exquisite house, I knew I was looking at a master’s work. It was a house none like I’ve ever seen before. The stark contrast between Casa Batllo and the traditional Spanish buildings beside it was overwhelming. Casa Batllo was almost fantasy-like. While the nearby buildings fashioned straight lines, rectangular windows, and triangular roofs, Casa Batllo was all but conventional. It seemed like Gaudi was avoiding straight lines, traditional house hues, and ordinary concrete. The façade was made of sandstone, covered with colorful mosaic. The windows were irregular oval in shape with strange-looking balconies seemingly shaped in skulls and bones. In place of bricks, the roof replicates that of reptile skin or more specifically that of a dragon’s, with a cross or a sword near the side. Our guide shares this to be Gaudi’s reverence towards St. George, patron saint of Catalonia. St. George was said to have slain a dragon with his sword. The interior was no less fascinating, with clearer attention to detail: ergonomically-designed stair railing; diminishing window sizes from bottom to top floors to reflect the higher quantity of light necessary for lower floors; light shades of blue ceramic tiles at the bottom floors and darker hues at the top where the light was the harshest; wave-like ceilings to mimic the sea; and other almost minor details that would let the audience truly experience the sea the way nature intended it. It was amazing how much detail Gaudi put into this house, how much time he spent creating the perfect experience, and how much inspiration he must have had to create such a modern-looking piece of work during the 19th century.

Musings
Our professor said that perfect engineering and design comes when possibilities, constraints, and uncertainties meet. Where did Gaudi start when he designed his masterpiece Casa Batllo? Surely not with constraints, given the possibly astronomical costs of restoring the building. With greater detail and flair come greater resources necessary. But this sure did not stop Gaudi. This tells me that (1) the Batllo’s (who commissioned Gaudi to remodel the house) gave him almost unlimited resources; and (2) Gaudi was unwilling to settle for less and compromise his vision. So perhaps Gaudi started with possibilities. Like modern-day geniuses and artists in the business world (i.e., Steve Jobs), he started by challenging assumptions and defying the status quo. Who said that windows had to be rectangular or roofs triangular? Like most successful innovations, it always starts with “What if?”

Mies Van Der Rohe (Barcelona Pavilion)
After a quick visit at the Olympic stadium (for when the 1992 Olympics was held in Barcelona), we stopped in front of what appeared to be a big old church. Of course, that’s not rare in Barcelona but I wondered what was special about this one. At the side of the Church was this modern-looking building of glass and marble. I was pretty certain it was a reception area. Perhaps of the church? To my surprise, our guide stopped in front of this modern structure and said that this was one of the most influential structure in the 20th century. I knew I didn’t have an artistic eye, but seriously? And then it dawned on me. It was 1929. In an era where gothic design was in fashion, Mies Van Der Rohe created a design ahead of his time—a structure made of glass, marble, and steel—no different from the many skyscrapers we see in big cities today. In its strangeness and uniqueness, the pavilion was heavily criticized and was later destroyed. It was only decades later that the people realized the great value of the pavilion and hence began its reconstruction.

Musings
Van Der Rohe was another Gaudi by heart—bold and daring. He challenged the status quo to bring about unconventional innovation to what is now the foundation of modern architecture. But I wonder, at what cost? Ridicule and criticism? What motivated him to deviate from the norm and explore new possibilities? Why was he willing to pay the high price of perhaps tarnishing his name as an artist by creating an artistic abomination? How was he to know that the prize would be bigger than the price he had to pay? The bigger question for me was, “Would I have done the same? Would I ever make a business decision so unconventional that I would risk my colleague’s trust and my own reputation?” Perhaps not. Where do I find the courage to do so?

Day 2 – March 21, 2011
Colonia Guell
Today we devoted our visits to Gaudi. First stop was the Church of Colonia Guell, an unfinished work by Gaudi. Eusebi de Guell commissioned Gaudi and intended to build a church with a crypt underneath. However, when Eusebi de Guell died, his son decided to cease the construction of the church hence only the crypt was completed. The crypt, almost like a small chapel, is perhaps the most beautiful chapel I have ever seen. Made of brick and stone and adorned with mosaics, the crypt is shaped so oddly (irregular oval), one would think it was a natural creation. The interior is even more mysterious and enchanting—slanted columns, high arches, and beautiful stained-glass windows. The wooden pews with seats ergonomically designed to fit the buttocks was meant for two people to sit slightly facing against each other to avoid distractions from the Eucharistic mass. At first, you’d think the structure with its odd shape is unstable but history tells us that Gaudi used a very advanced technique of modeling the church by hanging little sand bags from chains allowing gravity to pull the bags downwards and giving weight distribution to form the model structure. This showed him the necessary shapes and angles of his pillars. He then placed a mirror under the model to see how the structure would look like. This model was the most primitive technique of modeling designs that only computers could do today. It is said that this puts Gaudi 75 years ahead of his time.

Musings
The Colonia Guell is yet another proof of Gaudi’s genius. With a burning passion to execute his eccentric design, he created a means to his end—his very own primitive modeling technique using sand bags. With no technology to help him execute, this should have set Gaudi’s constraints and limitations but this did not stop him explore the possibilities and come up with unprecedented design/architectural innovation that would later lead him to create his biggest masterpiece—the Sagrada Familia.

Sagrada Familia (Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família)
When I was working for a consumer goods company, I worked with a project nicknamed “Sagrada Familia.” The innovation in the making had been going on for almost 10 years with no completion date set. And boy, did this project give me countless headaches and frustrations. I kept wondering why we were still pursuing something so uncertain. In my naïve thinking, I would have already abandoned it if it had been my call. The Sagrada Familia, however puts that 10-year project to shame. Starting construction in 1882, the Sagrada Familia is still in the works today, 129 years later. This is nonetheless, Gaudi’s biggest masterpiece and Barcelona’s most celebrated landmark. It is said that the expected year of completion is in 2026, 100 years after Gaudi’s death.
The Sagrada Familia, with its massive size (occupying one whole block of the Eixample district), stylish towers, ceramic pinnacles, and overall grandeur is breathtaking. Gaudi had envisioned the church to have a total of 18 towers with three grand facades to represent the Nativity, Passion, and Glory of the Christ. Sadly, Gaudi only finished the Nativity façade, dedicating 40 years of his life to the design and construction of the Sagrada Familia. The interior of the church was a big surprise for me. Entering from the Nativity façade, with Gothic and Baroque designs, very much like many cathedrals, I did not expect the interior to fashion a more Art Nouveau design. Except for a crucifix at the center of the Church, no statues of saints adorned its interior. Gaudi’s love for nature was evident—tree trunks of varying kinds stood as a forest of columns across the halls while humungous flowers decked the high ceilings. The varied wall to ceiling stained glass designs invited colorful light to shine the basilica.

Musings
Gaudi’s masterpiece is to me both majestic and lamentable. The Sagrada Familia’s remarkable design is concrete proof of his genius but I daresay so is it telling of his failure. To create something so ambitious and almost conclusively unachievable in his lifetime must have been a source of frustration to Gaudi. But an interesting point was raised in class. Did Gaudi know that he will not live to see his masterpiece completed? Probably yes. So why did he create something he knew he could not finish? It could be because of passion for the arts or his strong devotion to Catholicism. Or it could very well be his refusal to settle for anything less than his ambitions despite the limitation of mortality. Would I have settled? Would I have worked within my constraints and uncertainties and in the process curtail the possibilities?

Day 3 – March 22, 2011
Picasso Museum
Today we started class with a short clip on Pablo Picasso’s life in preparation for our Picasso museum tour in the afternoon. A child prodigy indeed, Picasso accomplished outstanding paintings as early as age 10. His mastery of traditional art came so early in his life that he must have been bored enough to explore unconventional painting as evidenced by his blue and pink era paintings and finally to the more controversial, Cubism painting. Cubism was Picasso’s early version of 3D, where he depicted objects from a multitude of viewpoints to add different contexts and perspectives of the subject. To the traditional art viewer’s eye, I would expect this to be nothing short of eccentric. But to Picasso, this was advancement from traditional art. And to the world today, this was what revolutionized European painting and sculpture. It was a strange experience to walk through Picasso’s works chronologically. You could see his earliest paintings from when he was a child, drawing pigeons on small wood pieces, then beautiful portraits and sceneries on canvass, to the lovely hues of blue in his later life. The shift to Cubism in Picasso’s paintings was so startling that one would think these were from a different artist. At first glance, I could not find the beauty in these strange, almost grotesque depictions of the human form. But a closer look will bring out the curiosity from the audience. It seemed to me that each painting was broken down into smaller objects, each with a different story to tell and different perspectives to show. They were then re-assembled in an abstract form, not conventionally beautiful but alarming and alluring nonetheless.

Musings
Picasso’s early mastery of traditional art led him to explore beyond the conventional. It seems like this is the winning formula for successful innovations—challenging the norm. Just like Van der Rohe, Picasso dared think outside the box and revolutionized art. Now, if only it were that easy to change the status quo.
Brilliant as he is, I find Picasso more human than perhaps Gaudi. Like most people, Picasso drew inspiration from people and objects around him. You could almost picture the story of his life from the evolution of his paintings. You could see his obsession with one woman from the different paintings he drew of her. And as his women changed, so did his paintings. Some of his paintings were so passionately done, one could almost feel the emotion behind it. This to me, humanized Picasso for who among us have not used an object or a person to draw inspiration from?

Day 4 – March 23, 2011
Miro Museum
Today was a free day for us. The instruction was to choose a different place in Barcelona where design plays a role. I chose to visit another artist’s museum. After racking my brains hard to understand Picasso’s intense and unconventional work on cubism, I was personally hungry for traditional art. Was I in for a surprise!
Joan Miro was a Spanish Catalan painter and sculptor. His work leans more towards surrealism and he was said to express contempt for conventional painting. Touring the Miro museum and seeing dozens of his work, I must say I was not impressed. In fact, I found most works so strange and (for lack of a better word) ugly that I wasn’t sure I was still looking at art, or perhaps “beautiful” art. One specific painting caught my eye. Walking towards it, I could see a crowd inspecting it quite intently. School children were looking at it with blank stares; young adolescents were stifling laughter; while the more mature crowd and those who seemed like art enthusiasts were looking at it in awe. The painting (named Landscape) was that of a big white canvass and a small blue dot on the center right. Like the school children, I stared at it blankly. Perhaps it was too abstract for my taste. But seriously, I can do this myself.
So what was so special about Miro that put his name up as an acclaimed artist? Miro’s refusasl to confine his works within the boundaries of traditional art was definitely one of the reasons for his fame. Miro was also revered for the exceptional diversity in his works. His freedom of interpretation and continuing search for fresh sources of inspiration—blank canvasses, straight lines, dots, empty spaces, empty horizons, etc. also made his works unique. He regarded objects with life and seemed to find some depth in the most mundane of things. He was quoted in saying, “For me an object is something living. This cigarette or this box of matches contains a secret life much more intense than that of certain human beings.” I personally would not go so far as think of inanimate objects as living and thinking but hey, to each his own.
Miro was also unique in his vocal dislike for art critics saying, “they are more concerned with being philosophers than anything else. They form a preconceived opinion, then they look at the work of art. Painting merely serves as a cloak in which to wrap their emaciated philosophical systems.”

Musings
I wonder though—how much of his work did Miro intend to be interpreted the way art critics and fans have—with layers and layers of meaning? Are people reading too much into his paintings, wanting it to be deep when the artist’s intention was only shallow? Who’s to say that in Miro’s painting of “Still Life with Old Shoe,” he intended the shadow cast by the gin bottle as a weeping silhouette? Or that the sole shoe in the painting, with its bright colors was for a one-legged harlequin as some art enthusiasts have interpreted? I find these interpretations as perhaps overly-dramatic and really reading in between the strokes more than sanely necessary. For all we know, these artists could have meant their works of art to be appreciated at face value or for their aesthetic appeal. Maybe the human instinct to complicate things got the better of most of us and just like with life, we interpreted innocent paintings as something more than meets the eye.
One thing I greatly admire about Miro is his defiance against art critics. Unlike Picasso who seemed eager to please his critics and garner the much-coveted awards, Miro was no pleaser to anyone but himself. It seems to me that his own audience was himself. He said, “Throughout the time in which I am working on a canvass I can feel how I am beginning to love it, with that love which is born of slow comprehension.” One can sense that Miro’s first audience is himself, that he must first love his own work no matter how long it took. Who among us can actually say that? Who can say that he or she is working for his or her own personal fulfillment and actualization and not to please others? I for one have worked more for my boss, colleagues, and the many other stakeholders I was taught to satisfy.

Day 5 – March 24, 2011
Dali Museum and Dali’s House
Today is a full-day field trip for us going to Figueres and to Cadaques on the Costa Brava, a two and a half hour drive from Barcelona. Our main focus is Salvador Dali, a prominent Spanish Catalan surrealist painter. The drive in itself was beautiful, offering spectacular views of wide green fields, galloping horses, and snow-capped mountains. Our first stop: the Dali Museum. I thought I had seen “eccentric” from Gaudi, Picasso, and Miro’s works but had I known about Salvador Dali, I would have labeled the other artists as conventional. I cannot properly articulate my first reactions upon seeing Dali’s designs. It was perhaps closer to disbelief than awe. Some of his works included a living room design mimicking a woman’s head—two paintings for the eyes, a wall ornament as nose, a lip-shaped couch, and a floor-to-ceiling cascade of blond hair. Writing this down is even odder than seeing it in person! His other, less gallant works included unique paintings with tiered substance offering different interpretations depending on how closely you are viewing the painting. That for me was unique and peculiar, even enjoyable. Dali also had this strange obsession for painting the things that he feared the most. It was said that he had a phobia for ants and sex hence his repeated paintings of these in many different forms. Dali’s imagination was as surreal as it can get and is perhaps too overwhelming for my taste. What I do like about it is its ability to rouse curiosity from the audience, whether to ask “What in the world is this?” or “What is the meaning for using a melted clock as symbol?” We learned later on that the melted clock was in fact Dali’s interpretation of time and its relativism. One thing for sure, one is bound to spend more than one curious minute looking at any of Dali’s artistic works.
Our second stop was Dali’s house in Cadaques, facing the Costa Brava coast where the beach view was absolutely breathtaking. Taking in the beautiful surroundings, my first question was “How can someone born and raised in such serene atmosphere grow up to be very eccentric?” I had expected Dali’s house to be as odd as his works of art but I was surprised to see a more normal abode, perhaps discounting the huge stuffed bear standing by the entrance and the big stone egg adorning his terrace. It was a unique experience walk through a great artist’s home and actually see his bedroom and workstation. Almost all rooms had great views to the seascape so it remains a mystery to me why none of his works that I saw seem to have been inspired by the simplicity and calmness of the sea.

Musings
Yet another eccentric artist is added to the roster, perhaps the most eccentric that one classmate actually labeled Dali as the Lady Gaga of the art world. Hilarious but true actually. Dali seemed to give no regard for his critics and was comfortable deviating from the norms of the art world. He seemed in fact to enjoy and bask in his eccentricity. Does this show Dali’s true commitment to his art? Did he remain true to himself by not letting others influence his art? Was he not a pleaser unlike the many others who catered to critics’ standards in place of their own? Who today can say this for themselves? To not live and make decisions based on other’s expectations?

Day 6 – March 25, 2011
Restaurant Coure
Today is the final day of class. We take a more modern shift in our understanding of Strategy as Design in Barcelona. What better place to start than in the kitchen? Apparently, gone are the days of traditional cooking when most dishes were served warm and well-cooked. Today, we see a new art of food preparation and cooking called molecular gastronomy. This is a new discipline that uses the physical and chemical processes that occur while cooking to come up with unique dishes. For instance, an egg that is cooked at a perfect temperature of 62 degrees C for exactly 35 minutes will yield the highest protein from the egg (or so I understood). Our five-course meal consisted of:
1. Onion soup with egg and cheese omelet
2. Tuna with beet mousse
3. White fish with hazelnut
4. Duck leg and pumpkin
5. Strawberry sorbet and biscocho with roasted nuts and cream
We spoke to the restaurant owner Alberto who very fondly shared with us his strong passion for molecular gastronomy and his commitment to furthering this art at almost any cost. So much so, that his business would run one million euros in revenues per year but would suffer a loss. His big investments in molecular gastronomy equipment and strong insistence to take two days a week off work to focus on brainstorming for new ideas were perhaps some reasons for his losses. He viewed molecular gastronomy as an art and himself as an artist who needed some time to re-energize and brainstorm new ideas. More surprisingly, he did not at all seem bothered by the fact that his business was incurring losses. He re-iterated that his passion had some costs that he was willing to take. Quite literally, he could be one starving artist in the flesh.

Musings
I can’t say I enjoyed the five-course meal. I definitely loved the soup and the dessert but everything in between seemed too raw and exotic for my taste. The fact that the meal did not tickle my senses does not discount my admiration for restaurant owner Alberto. Very rarely have I met people (especially in the business world) who would sacrifice financial growth and stability in the conquest of art or any other passion. Is not the very purpose of business money? And isn’t business a means rather than an end in itself? Apparently, not to all people. Perhaps my business-trained senses cannot comprehend such squandering. But to people like Alberto this was not squandering at all. More likely, it was investing in what would be the future of food. Hence one can consider the costs to be an asset rather than as expense.

Final Takeaways and Reflection
Reading the course syllabus for this Global Business Experience course Strategy as Design, I struggled to make the direct connection of art and architecture to business. How does design fit into strategy, and even more puzzling, how does it fit into business strategy? I’ve always regarded art and architecture purely of aesthetic value, something to please the senses. After learning and experiencing the works of Gaudi, Picasso, Dali, and Miro, indeed there is something deeper in the layers of paint than meets the artistic eye.

Dissatisfaction breeds Innovation
How did Apple become one of the most iconic and aspirational brands today? How did Steve Jobs land to be one of the most influential people of the century? It all started with innovation. People like Jobs were not afraid to work with ideas without constraints and uncertainties. Stripped off constraints and uncertainties, one is left with endless possibilities. Who said that a computer should be a three-piece hardware? Couldn’t it be a one-piece small flat screen? The iPad proved it certainly could be. Of course, Jobs is not alone in breeding innovation from dissatisfaction. The 19th and 20th century artists in Barcelona shared the same passion and commitment to innovating without constraints. Gaudi was relentless in his ambition to build Colonia Guell even without the computer technology to aid him. And so he made his own technology with the use of sandbags and gravity, making him 75 years ahead of his time. I bet even Jobs couldn’t have thought of this.

Your Audience is Key
It is very easy to identify one’s audience in art. More often, your audience is the critics who will make or break your career. In the business setting though, who is your audience? Is it your boss who makes your final evaluation? Is it your colleagues whom you work with every day? Is it the company’s shareholders for whom you are trying to create value for? Picasso shows us his wisdom in choosing his audience wisely. Driven to become the world’s greatest painter/artist of the century, Picasso knew whom to please and get approval from—his critics. And so, unlike Miro and Dali who painted and created works of art more for themselves and their passion, Picasso for me aimed to progress according to his audience’s expectations and even exceeded that. Where 2D painting was in fashion, Picasso exceeded expectations by introducing Cubism or the (badly put) 3D in 19th century painting. Did that give him the edge over rival artists? I definitely think so. Indeed, he was named the greatest artist of his time.

Fail Cheap
Staring at the Sagrada Familia, I cannot help but think that this beautiful masterpiece is both a testament to Gaudi’s genius and failure. A minor basilica, much smaller in size than some of Rome’s greatest ones, construction is still on-going after 129 years. If Gaudi were still alive, would he still have considered this unfinished monument an achievement? Perhaps yes. After all, he most probably knew he wouldn’t live to see the church finished. He just wasn’t willing to settle for anything less than his 18-tower ambition. Say for argument’s sake Gaudi did fail by completing only one façade of the Sagrada Familia, at what cost? Did he fail cheap? Business trainings and self-help books teach us that’s it’s perfectly alright to fail but if you do, fail cheap. How do we measure “cheap” in failure? Do we take an acceptable threshold level, some sort of percentage to total costs? And when do we make exceptions such as those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities or masterpieces, another Sagrada Familia, where any cost of failure is acceptable? I’m guessing these exceptions are very rare in the world of business where among one’s audience are shareholders whose mantra could very well be, “Show me the money.”

Are you Happy?
In our final class day, someone wondered loudly, “Do you think these artists were happy?” This question is not directly related to design as strategy but one I want to delve deeper anyway. Why? Because of its relevance and because this almost rhetorical question transcends centuries, artists, and businessmen around the globe. So, were they happy? Granted, they were probably a little crazy or extreme but I would like to think that yes they were happy. If I were paid and revered to do what I’m most passionate about, I will definitely have a smile on my face. But where do we see this level of satisfaction and fulfillment in the business world? More often than not, I see highly-paid bankers sticking to the job for a few short years for the money or sought-after managers hopping from one industry to the next in search of greener bucks. What does it take to actually spend 60 years of your life devoted to one industry (art) and one function (painting)? With no retirement, mind you. Will I ever find myself in that level of comfort and contentment; to not want more than what my life’s passion needs me to give? For now, I am far from this. I’m still struggling with what my real passions are and embarrassing as it may be, I’m searching for the greener pastures as well. But it is indeed comforting and inspiring to know that pursuing one’s passion, achieving financial stability, and being happy are not mutually exclusive.

The Climb

2011-02-11T19:01:00.021-05:00

Mulling over this strange, roller coaster-like saga that we've fondly called "the recruitment process" in business school, I'm reminded of a song I heard a while back. This teeny boppy song many people will find corny, mind you. But if you listen closely to the lyrics, it's actually quite beautiful and very apt to the many events unfolding in the Darden halls these days.

Today, a dear friend of mine called me to share wonderful news--she received an offer from one of the most prestigious consulting firms in the country and in one of the most coveted offices. This would have made any other business school student happy but "happy" cannot even begin to describe how she is feeling now. See, I've seen this friend go through hell and back (apologies for the crude language) to get this job. I saw her cry from the first three rejection calls she received, stand back up and try harder, then go numb of pain, exhaustion, and defeat from the next two rejections. In the end, she resigned to the high probability of her going back home and possibly taking her old job back by the summer. So yes, she is beyond thrilled and I must say, "damn well-deserved!"

The early part of the recruitment saga I can relate to the first part of the song's lyrics:

I can almost see it
that dream I'm dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head saying,
"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
lost with no direction
my faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

And then, there's that latter part. That part when students start receiving offer after offer after offer. Your first offer will make you invite some friends for celebratory drinks. The second one will perhaps have you bargaining for a higher compensation package. And the third will most probably make you want more. This might not be true for all but I'm sure we can somehow relate to this insatiable feeling of wanting more, whether more interview invites, more job offers, or just something more out of life. It's funny how at first we start with saying "just one (just one offer)," then "Two is always better than one, right?" and then we end up thinking, "I want more."

I think I know why. It's the climb.

The latter part of the lyrics sums it up best:

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

So yes, it's not just about that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or how fast you get there. It's that climb. It's that thrill of overcoming something seemingly unattainable at first. It's that satisfaction we get from proving to ourselves that we can. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Life after all is about progress, about pushing yourself beyond your own boundaries and becoming better than you were yesterday. And that's exactly why I'm in business school today.

I wonder though, when does it end? This part of life seems to me like a circular reference (one of Excel's woes). What variable feeds what? Is the fat paycheck the end goal to arrive at the optimal number of job offers? Or is it that qualitative aspect of success? That sense of fulfillment from knowing that you've made more than a quantitative impact to society and to your life?

I wish that someday I'll have the wisdom to know the difference.

Lyrics from Miley Cyrus' song, The Climb

Choices

2011-01-07T16:51:00.000-05:00

Caveat: This entry is in no way meant to be insensitive to the plight my classmates who are making intense preparations for their internship interviews and are in the process of landing internship positions. Rather, this is one girl's reflections on the choices she made and the possible repercussions of those choices. So, do read with caution.

Three days ago I was ecstatic. I was in Mountain View, CA, sitting in a company's conference room for one of our job trek visits when my phone buzzed with an email. The email read, "You have been invited to interview with (insert company name)." Reading the company's name gave me an unexplainable feeling of excitement. See, this company was one of my top companies to work for. This was my McKinsey (top consulting firm that many of my consulting-bound classmates would shed an arm and a leg for). That plus the fact that they only invited a handful for interview. So suffice it to say that I was beyond thrilled. My happiness was short-lived though as I remember the difficult dilemma I was facing.

Two months ago, I received my first internship offer from a Fortune 50 company with a great leadership program. Since the company did not recruit on-grounds at Darden, I reached out to some associates who interned and eventually worked there full-time. The conversations I had with them confirmed the quality of the program and I knew I would be foolish not to accept the offer. This plus the fact that they pay package was highly competitive and the company was headquartered in one of the most beautiful cities in the US.
Decision deadline: mid-January

One month ago, I was very surprised to receive my second internship offer from another great company. Their hiring process was very intensive, the final round being a set of three interviews with senior management, each with 4-5 mini finance cases. I was almost definitely sure I wouldn't be getting an offer especially after meeting my competition at their headquarters. But God works in mysterious ways and I received my offer a day after I flew back to Charlottesville.
Decision deadline: early January

A few days ago I made phone calls to the two companies that sent me internship offers. I kindly asked for an extension of the decision deadline they gave me. I was told by the career office and second years that most companies agreed to an extension to give students a chance to weigh their options before deciding on which offer to accept. Unfortunately, both companies denied my request. Since I was given an early offer, they needed to know my decision ASAP to figure out how many more they will be hiring from the normal recruiting timelines. Very reasonable, of course.

So, there I was staring at the (interview invite) email that I've worked so hard for. I could literally have jumped for joy but the phone calls I made a few days back made my heart sink as quickly as it had palpitated with joy. There was no way for me to interview with this company (total of 5-6 rounds starting end January and ending in March) with my decision deadlines due this week and next. It would be foolish and impractical to reject two equally great job opportunities for a shot at an internship job with possibly less than 10% success rate. Who was I to take such big risk?

Today, I am sad. I had just clicked the 'decline' button in my 'interviews' page. I also called the career office to make sure my decline was reflected and the alternate got the invite since I had waited until the last minute to decline. I just didn't have the heart to make that final click of the mouse that drew the curtains to a close.

Life is truly ironic. Sometimes, you will find yourself wanting something so badly that you exert all your effort to get it. You will pray very hard for it. You will go out of your way to initiate something, you will spend hours and days to get things moving and you will give up time for yourself and your friends to seal the deal. But when you finally get there, when you are facing that one thing that you've wanted so much, you hear yourself say 'No.'

It would have been utterly hilarious if it wasn't so sad.

I guess these are what we call choices. Once you make your choice, all one can hope for is not to look back and regret. No wishing there were two or three of me, no 'what-ifs,' no more sadness, only moving on and hopefully finally feeling happy and content with blessings one didn't even dare dream of having.

And I quote Robert Frost in 'The Road Not Taken:'

Two roads diverged in yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both...

Black November's Ray of Light

2010-11-16T23:32:00.009-05:00

I've been hearing all about "Black November." As an ignorant international student here at Darden, I thought it pertained to the weather change--the creeping winter evidenced by the sun setting at 5pm and the harsh, chilly air forcing you to stay indoors. And then, I heard about "Black Friday." Back home in the Philippines, this was a holy day for us Catholics, observing the death of Christ. Apparently, this is the biggest sale event of the year here in America. As an American friend says, "this goes to show what our two countries worship."

Finally, I learned what "Black November" meant in the Darden dictionary. Black November is that most dreaded time for first year MBA students. It's when recruitment efforts are intensified as resume drops become due and interview invitations are anxiously awaited, and this on top of an already very rigorous coursework. Obviously, the dreary winter doesn't help ease things ups. So yes, it can't get any blacker than that.

Today, I woke up to rain pounding on my window and an ominously dark sky. I wanted to curl up in bed, warm and dry under my comforter. But of course, there were cases to do and a Marketing simulation class activity to tackle.

About four hours into class, I saw an email notification pop in my screen. The subject noted the name of the company I had interviewed almost a month back at the NSHMBA MBA fair in Chicago. I had been anxiously waiting for word from this company since I knew some final results had already been out. Realizing it was an email, I figured it was a letter of rejection. I'm sure they'd at least give me a call if they were offering me the internship position, I thought. An hour later, I finally forced myself to come to terms with reality. And so, imagine my surprise to see a congratulatory email with an internship offer! I was beyond astonished! I read and re-read the letter at least thrice and triple-checked my name in each page. I just couldn't believe it. Whether it was the power of prayer, talent, or sheer luck, at that very moment, I was just relieved.

Thinking back now, I realize that relief isn't the first emotion I would have expected from myself after reading my very first offer letter. It should have been happiness or joy, right? But see, "relief" is defined as "the feeling that comes when something burdensome is removed." And that was exactly what happened to me. That fear of not having an internship, that fear of not finding a company who will sponsor international students, that fear of finding myself regretting leaving a perfectly great job to venture out and gamble in the MBA realm--these were all lifted somehow. This was my "relief"... my ray of light in the otherwise cold and dreary Black November.

Almost 12 hours after all the excitement, the dust has settled somewhat and I hate to say this but I'm faced with new fears. My letter had said, "Yumiko, we are looking forward to you joining our program. I am sure you will make an important contribution to the success of our company."

Slight panic begins to set. How much value can I add to this 10-12 week internship? Will I be able to apply all these fancy MBA tools that I learned in the actual workplace? Can I prove myself worthy of a full-time job offer? ...And many other crazy thoughts.

Perhaps I should leave these thoughts for another day and enjoy this brief moment of relief (or even joy). After all, it's not often that you wake up to a cold, ominous dark sky and and end up feeling that warmth of sunshine.

To my fellow First Years, here's to your own rays of light in this challenging but temporary Black November. This too shall pass.

The trouble with Cold weather, Stockings, and a Lost car

2010-11-11T21:43:00.008-05:00

I've lived in a tropical country all my life. This meant enjoying 95 degree F (35 degree C) weather almost 10 months in a year and frequent beach getaways. I've been bracing myself for the notorious US East coast cold fall/winter weather and suffice it to say that I didn't prepare enough.

A few weeks ago, Charlottesville weather started to get more chilly. Mornings were cold at about 55 F (13 C) and nights hit a low 36 F (2 C). My teeth are literally chattering in this temperature. So my wardrobe changed overnight from nice and cool t-shirts and summer dresses into turtle necks, long-sleeved shirts, scarfs, and warm coats. This gets trickier with recruitment week and company briefing days.

I've been so busy and stressed out lately juggling between schoolwork and recruitment activities that I haven't actually thought of my personal girly woes. Two incidents these past days reminded me there's more trouble in life than finding the best mutual fund to invest in or how to approach a case interview.

A few days ago, I found myself without a clean set of pant suit for a company briefing. So I decided to wear a business casual dress instead. Now, I knew this would be a welcome invitation to hypothermia for me (what with the start of winter sneaking in). But I checked the weather forecast that day and it was relatively sunny. To be on the safe side, I decided to put on stockings/hose, those lace top thigh high ones. It wasn't much protection from the cold but it was better than bare. So at 7:50am, in the chilly morning air, my roommate and I walked through the unpaved road from our apartment to school. Three minutes into the walk, I felt my left hose start to run down. I tried hoisting it up back in place subtly. It didn't help that some classmates were walking behind us. I knew I should have gotten the pantyhose one but those somehow cuts your air supply. I was tempted to rush back to the apartment and take it off but that would make me late for class (the $5 penalty wasn't appealing to me either). So, every few seconds my roommate stood directly behind me to give me a bit of privacy to pull my stocking up. At that very moment, I wished my thighs were two inches bigger. Totally embarrassing. I won't even go to the details of how I managed to hold my stocking and cross the busy two-lane street and the parking lot to school. The memory of it will haunt me for a long time.

I cursed the cold weather then. Little did I know I'll be cursing it again not 24 hours after my stocking incident.

Last night, I planned on going out and taking the car. I didn't find our car in the parking lot so I figured my roommate used it. She got home later than me so I wasn't able to ask her about it. The next morning, as I was preparing breakfast, I casually asked her if she took the car last night. The conversation went along these lines:

Me: Did you use the car last night?
Roommate: No, I didn't.
Me: But it's not outside in the parking lot.
(Me rushing outside in the cold without a jacket to look for our car. I checked both ends of the parking lot to no avail.)
(Me with numb fingers rushing back inside the apartment.)
Me: It's really not there!
(Me thinking about the car insurance coverage if it included theft or misplacement...)
Roommate: Wait, wait... I think I used it two days ago when I went to the gym. I'm not sure if I drove or walked home..
(Her thinking about her crazy busy day two days back and how hectic it was that she forgot how she got home.)

So we rushed our breakfast and left at 7:30am to look for our car in the school gym's parking lot. If that panic wasn't enough to wake us up, the cold winter air sure did! That plus the lawn sprinklers that just had to turn on when we crossed the lawn. Thankfully, we found the car parked outside the gym with two parking tickets on the windshield. At least it wasn't towed.

So there, two days in a row my morning caffeine fix came in the form of loose stockings, a lost car, and a damned too cold weather for me. I'm scared to think what mishaps the real winter will bring.

P.S.
Special thanks to my roommate Astrid for having my back and for making mornings a little crazier than usual. Never gets dull at 127.

First Dates (a.k.a Interviews)

2010-10-28T19:01:00.001-04:00

Please refer to my last entry for the contextual explanation of recruitment and the dating game.
http://almondspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/10/that-scary-thing-called-recruitment.html

My first taste of the recruitment dating game came all too soon a few days ago.

Last Thursday night, I found myself rushing through my Economics final exam. The four-hour online exam opened at 5pm and I had a 6am flight from Washington Dulles to Chicago. That meant two hours of studying/cramming from 5-7pm, exam time from 7-11pm, rushed packing from 11pm-12mn (why does it take 20mins to iron one button-down corporate top?! I miss you Mom!), and onto the 2.5-hour drive to Dulles international airport.

A couple of us international students were on our journey to our first-ever off-grounds job fair. The National Society of Hispanic MBA's (NSHMBA) was hosting the annual conference and career expo at Chicago for three days. There were over 60 recruiting companies from across different industries, with internship and full-time job opportunities for MBA students from all over the US.

I stood there at the fair's entrance, taking in the huge rectangular expanse filled with colorful company booths, stern and smiling recruiters reading resumes, and nervous MBA students milling about. I breathed in the air of hope for an internship job, the fear from hundreds of competition walking around in the same suit as I was, almost indistinguishable from each other. Suffice it to say, it was like opening that not-too-thick but not-too-thin envelope from a college you applied to. You kind of think it's not a rejection letter because there seems to be more than one thank-you-for-your-interest sheet there but it's not thick enough to include your dormitory options. So you open it and hope for the best.

I had already plotted my route across the labyrinth of company booths. I prioritized the companies whom I know was open to hiring and sponsoring international students (sadly, the slow economic growth is still unkind to us who need work visa sponsorship). Picture this: a big circular booth decorated with the company's colors, logo, mission statement, etc., 4-5 small tables spread out, manned by 1-2 company reps, segmented by corporate function. I fall in line under finance and wait to have my chance to speak to the rep and pray that he will find me and my resume worthy of an interview. I finally get my turn, introduce myself as a first year Darden student interested in finance internship opportunities. I talk a little about why I'm interested in the company and the position while holding my resume in front of me, ready to run it through him if he asks me to. Sometimes they do and at the times that they don't, I volunteer to walk them through it anyway. I only have my voice and effort to lose. It takes me about one minute to give the highlights of my resume and achievements, choosing those that are relevant to the company and the position, while they listen intently and ask a question or two. After which, they pause and appear to be taking it all in (while I pray harder). They scribble some notes in my resume and tell me they'll call me within the day if they want to schedule an interview with me within the two-day conference. I do this full spiel for about five companies. My half spiels (meaning I did not even get to my resume part) were delivered to the many other companies that unfortunately did not hire internationals or those that did not have corporate finance vacancies.

At 2:45pm, I received my first interview invite call from a top high-tech company. They wanted to interview me at 3:00pm. I couldn't have been more thrilled and nervous at the same time. I had 5 mins. to check myself in the mirror and tame my bladder, 5 mins. to use my iPhone for a half-baked company research and 5 mins. to run across the big hall, down the long flight of stairs, and to the interview hall.

Friday, 3:00pm (Interview with High-tech company)
I find myself sitting inside a 5x10 ft. closed booth for my interview. My interviewer is a finance representative with a very pleasant smile and demeanor that immediately put me at ease. She asks me about myself, what achievements I'm most proud of, which ones were most challenging, etc. Most questions were behavioral and situational questions. There were few technical questions which I think I managed to address reasonably. I try my best to relate my experiences to their internship program. She also went on to tell me about the company culture, their big emphasis on corporate social responsibility (which I'm very happy and excited to hear about) and what to expect from the internship. Turns out they were piloting an international rotational MBA internship program. I am thrilled at this possibility. What better way to learn than from a top high-tech firm's global environment?

At the conclusion of the interview she tells me that I have a strong resume and a good fit to their program. She said that she was endorsing me to the next process which was the internship interview. I didn't expect to get immediate feedback but hey, I'm not complaining.

Happy but dead tired, I trudge back to our hotel at approximately 5pm and exhaustion from the difficult exam, jet lag, and the arduous job hunting experience almost put me into a coma. I make sure my phone's ringer is on just in case I get lucky and get other interview invites. The stars were with me as I get three more interview invites from a US bank, a US airline company and a US retail company. All three were top of my list of companies to work for. I offer a thank you prayer as I start reading up on the companies.

Saturday, 11:30am (interview with Airline company)
Before I bore you with the details of my interview with the airline company, let me backtrack a little to my first impromptu interview with the same airline company.

The day before my scheduled interview, I had gone to their booth to chat with the finance representatives. The rep takes a look at my resume and tells me that she had actually seen my resume already (from the NSHMBA resume book) and that she had wanted to call me for a screening interview but since I submitted late, they didn't have enough time. I asked if she had time now and if they had open interview slots for the next two days. She endorses me to another guy who takes my resume and reads up. I volunteer to walk him through it highlighting my relevant experiences and achievements. He catches me by surprise by asking how I could convert my experiences in the consumer goods industry into the challenges that the airline industry was facing. He asks me technical questions on promotional and advertising schemes, its impact to the P&L and how this will translate to the airline business. What kind of promotions would I recommend? What will be the financial impact to the business? I try my best to wake my dead brain up and scavenge through my five years of corporate experience to pick those that were relevant to the airline business. I mean how different can shampoos and airplanes get, right? He also shared how corporate finance worked in the airline business and the challenges they faced. This was my first peek on what it was like working in finance for an airline business. And it's pretty damn interesting. At the back of my head, I curse myself for not researching more. I certainly didn't want to spoil my chance at this great opportunity. Too late now. This pseudo interview goes on for about 20 minutes. From my peripheral vision, I could see the queue behind me getting longer and longer while the other MBA students listened intently to our discussion. I realize how embarrassing this was for me. I was probably not making any sense at all. The rep finally concludes our discussion, scribbles some notes at the back of my resume (what I would have given to see that) and tell me that they'll review my credentials and they'll give me a call. I get the sad feeling that they won't.

Fast forward to Saturday, 11:30am (actual interview with airline company)
It's that small interview booth again. If I wasn't so nervous, the claustrophobic in me would have made a dash to the door. Instead, I sit poised and smiling. I expected the regular first questions of 'tell me about yourself' or 'walk me through your resume,' or even 'tell me about a time when you...' Instead, she asked me a number of technical questions including the formula for working capital, different depreciation methods, etc. She then presented me with four mini cases. She came up with fictional business scenarios involving new markets, geographic expansions, new line introductions, pricing simulations, competitive movements, etc. She then asked me to assess the situation and provide my recommendations. I was totally unprepared for this. I have never done case interview preparations because I was naive enough to think these case interviews were only for the Consulting industry. Boy, oh boy. Note to self: sign up for the case interview workshop. I try my best to bat the curve balls. But I'm pretty sure I made quite a lot of strike outs.

Saturday, 2:15pm (interview with Bank)
At this point, I was feeling sad and forlorn. I felt very de-motivated by my last interview. I prayed hard this one wouldn't be as bad. And I think it wasn't. This was perhaps my most relaxed and conversational interview. The VP who interviewed me had such a kind and welcoming demeanor. It was more like a conversation than an interview. I told him about myself, my interest in the banking business, and my experiences while he told me about the internship program, the bank's culture, the people, and the highlights of his experiences. Before I knew it, 30 mins. was up and I went away feeling relieved that I didn't appear to bomb the interview but confused as well because I didn't know how to assess it.

Saturday, 3:00pm (interview with Retail company part 1)
I only had about 10 mins. to collect and ready myself for the next interview. I was particularly excited about this one after hearing about the good reputation of their leadership program. My first interviewer was a young woman who was from the leadership program herself. She informed me that I will be having a back-to-back interview with another manager after she interviewed me. She also told me that the second interview will be the final interview. They will be making their decision based on my two interviews today. Whoa. Talk about unnerving. I didn't see that one coming. I felt my heartbeat race a lot faster. She probably heard the thump thump. Not good.

For the whole of 30 mins., she probably asked me all combinations of situational and behavioral questions--situation when I took a risk and failed, time when I dealt with conflict, time when I had a big argument, etc. I had to poke my brain hard to remember relevant experiences. She scribbled a lot in her interview questionnaire form which was about 4 pages long. This got me even more nervous. At the end of the interview, I had major brain drain. One down, one more to go.

Saturday, 3:30pm (interview with Retail company part 2)
I didn't imagine I could get more unnerved than I already was. After one bad interview, a confusing one and a mentally draining one, I was ready to wipe my brain to a clean state. Tabula rasa. But there I was, sitting in front of a stern-looking interviewer, sharing more situational and behavioral experiences and he didn't seem to have any reaction whatsoever to anything that I said. I tried very hard to connect with him to no avail. So yes, the last and final stretch (for the day at least) was unnerving at best.

A long 30 minutes later, I take a deep breath, exhale slowly and let my mind go blank for a precious moment. There was so much emotion inside me--exhaustion, sadness, relief, happiness, excitement, anxiety... I couldn't even pick the first one to prioritize. I settled on savoring the day's conclusion. That day was probably one of the longest days in my career. I realize I never had that many interviews for company recruitment. I stayed with only one company in my five years of work experience after all.

With all the job hunting and interview frenzy, I couldn't even pause to admire and take in the beauty of the city. So, I end the day with a nice dinner, good white wine, and a lazy, chilly walk at Chicago's Navy Pier. I think I deserved that.

Sitting in my room back in Charlottesville now, I re-live my first interviews by writing this blog entry. I smile, cringe, and wince at those crazy moments I had. All those emotions I had during and after the interviews are pretty much pacified now. All but one--anxiety. For when the interviews end, the waiting game begins.

I will probably hear more bad news than I am willing to bear now. But I still feel grateful to have been given the chance to interview. Perhaps I can take those first interviews as practice, as a warm-up to what will hopefully be many more along my way.

I remember a big mistake that I made in my job, only three months after I joined the company. It cost my company a few hundred thousands. I remember that feeling of stupidity, fear, and just utmost contempt at myself. My first boss, looked at the fear and regret in my eyes, smiled at me and said, "Just charge it to experience."

I never made the same mistake again. It was a small price to pay for what is more valuable--experience. But when you are an international MBA student who has invested a whole lot of money in your education, toiled long and hard on the unbelievably demanding school work, and fought your way for that rare spot of an interview at a company that actually hired non-US citizens, when someone says "just charge it to experience," you know that that experience is actually a very steep price to pay.

That (scary) thing called ‘Recruitment’

2010-10-15T18:09:00.006-04:00

Caveat:
This is an amateur first year's take on what MBA Recruitment is all about. I'm hoping to create an updated blog entry for when I actually do know what the heck I'm talking about.

It’s only been three months since I’ve been out of the work force, two months since I started business school and yet, here I am losing sleep over every other MBA student's biggest source of anxiety--recruitment (aka the job hunt).

Darden devotes one week after final exams to recruitment events--company briefings, office hours (a small group of students interact with recruiters and company executives), and networking events. Darden does a good job in pushing (and scaring) students to start the job hunt early lest you don't get your dream job and ideal company. So like a scared mouse, I've been running to quite a number of company briefings and networking events in the past month including General Motors, 3M, Amazon, Credit Suisse, JP Morgan, Goldman Sachs, Deutsche Bank, Johnson & Johnson, Bank of America, etc.

So what exactly is this scary thing called Recruitment and how does it work?

Getting to Know You.
As in all relationships, everything starts with getting to know the person, in this case the company. A company briefing in business school is perhaps the first step of recruitment for both the company and the students. This is a student's first peek of the company's culture, its personality and its people. To encourage better networking, most of the company representatives are Darden alumni. Darden students who interned in the companies are also invited to speak about their internship experiences. At the end of it, students ask some questions and the presenters address these. The student then does his/her own introspection, gauge his/her level of interest after hearing what the company is all about and decide if he/she wants to pursue a possible internship opportunity or full-time job at the company.

Up Close and Personal.
If a student finds these initial qualities appealing, then it's time to get up close and personal. This happens in a number of ways. Some of which are:
a. Pitt dive: After a company briefing, some students approach the presenters to ask more questions and network with the recruiters. This is usually challenging to do as the recruiter-student ratio is usually 7:1 or even 10:1. So a student's talk time is very limited hence he/she has to make each word count (scrap 'count,' replace with 'memorable'). This way, the recruiter will remember you when you write that thank you note after the briefing and pitt dive.
b. Office Hours: These are similar to pitt dives but is usually held in smaller settings. This is a good indicator of a student's interest in the firm. The recruiter-student ratio is also more favorable at say 5:1. So students get to ask more specific questions and get more detailed responses.
c. Networking socials: This applies mostly for the Banking and Consulting industries. From what I've seen, it seems like bankers like to network in bars a lot. Yes, that's networking and socializing under the influence of booze. I haven't figured out yet how that formula works because I'm not sure how well the recruiters will remember the students after five drinks but hey, I'm no expert. Consulting networking socials also include sponsoring tailgate events (the pre football game party).

The Date(s).
So you've met the company, you've gone up close and personal through pitt dives and other networking opportunities. It's now time to move on to the date, that is, the interview. If you're lucky, you'll get a second or third date (interviews). For now, I have very limited experience in this matter so I'll reserve my thoughts on this for when I get more first-hand experience in the dating game.

I do.
Those two word say it all. If the company likes you, you'll receive an internship offer. You'll get the details of the offer probably including scope, roles and responsibilities, compensation and relocation packages. Hmm... Pretty much like your standard pre-nuptial agreement.

Adios Term 1!

2010-09-22T08:30:00.008-04:00

Ah.. I miss this. I miss sitting down in my room and using my laptop for anything else but spreadsheets and Crystal ball models. I've been MIA from the blogging scene lately since I devoted the past two weeks for final exam preparations which comprised of re-doing cases and spreadsheets from scratch, creating review notes and attending our section reviews. More time spent in school and burning the midnight oil, less time exercising, eating and sleeping.. and yet, the exams were still a (forecasting) surprise for me. Another one of Darden's bootcamp treats I guess.

After 5 short weeks, Term 1 has officially ended. In another 4-5 weeks, our 2nd set of final exams will have me stressfully juggling between acadmemics and recruitment demands.

Silver linings:
(1) I'm learning new perspectives, new approaches, new tools and new models that I think I can actually use when I go back to the workforce. Our Decision Analysis (DA) class taught us regression and statistical models that were very similar to the Marketing Mix Modeling (MMM) that my company used to pay an arm and a leg for before. The MMM was always an uncomprehensible black box to me, needing an uber analyst's IQ to execute. But learning the tools and methods taught in class, I think I just might take a crack at being a not-so-uber analyst.
(2) I'm getting my money's worth. Some people say that an MBA is mostly networking and party time. Not at Darden. Definitely not. I wish they'd let us squeeze in more time for networking and parties. Hint: A 50-50 split is not bad at all.

So with Term 1 over and Term 2 already tapping us in the shoulder, we are moving on to a bit of Recruitment preparations--company briefings and networking events. Both are very new to me but will be surprising and exciting I'm sure.

http://almondspeaks.blogspot.com

Random Friday Thoughts

2010-09-03T19:46:00.003-04:00

So I'm sitting here in my room on a Friday before movie night.. There's a football game going on now which was supposed to be my first American football experience but I was smart enough to log it in my Saturday schedule. Hopefully there's another one soon. There's a lot going on in my head right now. I can't really structure my thoughts clearly hence the apt title "Random Friday Thoughts."

Another Darden week went by leaving me breathless (once again). It's only been three weeks but with the unbelievably fast pace that we're going, it feels like it's been months too many! Classes this week have definitely been harder. Last week, we were learning about price-volume-profit scenarios in our Decision Analysis class. It was pretty simple for me since these things are exactly what I was doing in my job. Then suddenly we move forward to learning how to simulate scenarios using the Crystal Ball program. We're combining concepts of analyzing uncertainty, probability distributions, NPV simulations into spreadsheet modelling, Crystal ball and tornado sensitivities! We've tackled real-life cases about Oracle softwares, Overhaul engine services, Natural-resource explorations, and Cogeneration plants! I made a clear mental note to myself never to get into these crazily complex businesses. I was re-introduced to long-ago math concepts of normal/uniform/triangular/gamma distributions. All in four very short days. Talk about intense. Seriously. It felt like going from first gear to fifth gear. It's a miracle the engine is still purring.

On the bright side, I'm still enjoying the learning experience very much. It's amazing and amusing how the case method actually plays out well even in quantitative classes. There are some times though that I'm sitting there confused and frustrated that I want a time-out and in dire need of a shift to lecture mode. But I'm keeping my faith in the process. Let's see how long I can keep up. Two years less three weeks is a pretty long time!

http://almondspeaks.blogspot.com

T.G.I.Th

2010-08-27T18:53:00.008-04:00

http://almondspeaks.blogspot.com

Note:
Due to network problems, this is a late publish, supposedly for Thursday. I guess Friday wanted the "F" back, and rightfully so as it's obviously a Friday now.
Happy weekend everyone!

Okay. So those last two letters aren't exactly the conventional "F" that fits in your weekend welcome banner. But with my life at Darden now, it fits aptly. I don't think I've ever looked forward to Thursdays as I do now--with arms wide open.

For the past week, I've started my new routine as an MBA student. It's one that I sort of expected I guess but the extremity of it still caught me offguard. It goes something like this:

6:40 Wake up, get ready for school and eat breakfast
7:40 Walk to school
8:00 First Class
9:30 First Coffee (A Darden tradition where students meet at PepsiCo forum for coffee or tea and chat informally)
10:00 Second Class
11:45 Third Class (I'm so hungry this time that I nibble some crackers in class)
13:10 Lunch (I usually pack some lunch and eat at the cafeteria or if I'm not too hungry, I rush home and make a decent meal)
14:00 Read/Study/Prepare for the next day's cases. We have three cases to discuss everyday, with usually two spreadsheets to prepare. Cases vary from being 2-page or 20-page long or even one thick annual report. The tricky part is studying the note discussions/lectures as well since you need this for case context.
I like studying in school, away from the temptations of my soft bed but oftentimes the school AC is too cold for me. So some days I study at home and (un-intentionally) catch some ZZZs.
19:00 I meet with my Learning Team in school. Learning teams are groups of 5-6 students from different sections and diverse backgrounds. Your LT is your support group. Each one has a specific strength (whether Finance, Marketing, Operations, or Accounting) to provide good insights for the team to better analyze the class cases.
21:00 We get lucky sometimes and end within an hour and a half or two. I have a bit of time to spare so I hit the running track, gym or the tennis court. I need to keep the blood circulating amidst the schoolwork frenzy. The other night, I was running in the treadmill while reading the thick reading for our Leading Organizations (LO) class. I realize how insane it is but time is always of the essence these days.
22:00 I go back to my apartment, eat (if I'm hungry), catch up with some emails, review the next day's cases, finish the lengthy LO readings, type out the LO homework and sometimes do the Career Management assessments.
00:00 I finally hit the sack utterly exhausted.

The next day, the sun rises and the cycle starts all over again...until Thursday. See, we get Fridays free. Darden has taken last year's student feedback and this year implemented a 'no-classes on Friday' curriculum. Fridays are reserved for recruitment events such as company briefings, recruitment socials, interviews, etc. Since recruitment season is a few weeks away for now, we are temporarily savoring the freedom.

Right now, I sense that all this sounds insanely impossible to keep up with and just damn tiring. But I also know that it's mostly because the routine is new and the transition from work life to student life is no easy feat. So, I'll give it more time and wait for myself to get the hang of things.

Meanwhile, let me enjoy this beautiful night called Thursday night. And just like any true Dardenite, I'll be heading off to TNDC. Thursday Night Drinking Club is a Darden tradition where Darden students go to a bar and celebrate the survival of one hellish week. It's really just a roomful of tired students drinking beer and talking about everything but the schoolwork and cases. But to us, it's that lucid interval where we catch a short glimpse of our lives before MBA.

Cheers Darden 2012!

First Cases

2010-08-19T21:52:00.005-04:00

www.almondspeaks.blogspot.com

For the past days, I've started hitting the books again. Or more specifically, I've started studying and analyzing cases. See, the Darden School of Business is one of the few business schools (including Harvard Business School and Ivey) that utilize 100% case study method. Instead of sitting through lectures where professors lead the class discussions, Darden students engage with each other in a collaborative setting through case analysis and discussions. The way I see it, the professors are class mediators, stimulating the discussions and steering it towards the right course or direction. The bigger class role relies on the students and their inputs towards the case discussions.

We have had around five live cases already in the past four days and I'm feeling a bit dazed. Two months of unemployment right before school started and five years from undergraduate school have made my brain rusty. But I'm liking it so far. We've discussed cases on Target, Samsung, British Petroleum (BP), etc., touching on the most recent corporate issues and concerns. The best part was actually seeing and interviewing the CEOs or representatives of these top companies after our case discussions. It was amazing hearing them answer our pressing questions on their corporate dealings and actually hearing first-hand their future plans. It was the closest thing to picking their brains and I'm not complaining.

They said that the success of case studies and case discussions rely heavily on the students' preparedness and level of participation. So far, I'm enjoying my class discussions and the richness and diversity of our inputs. Coming from an Accounting/business background, it's very refreshing to hear ideas and points of view from lawyers, pilots, doctors, bankers, consultants, athletes, etc. You're seeing more than just the other side of the coin. It's more like seeing the other five sides of a cube really. And I'm trying to do my end of the deal by speaking up and adding a thing or two to our discussions. Hopefully, those made some sense to my classmates.

A famous Darden professor, Peter Rodriguez, told us in his welcome remarks for International students that in a case study environment, you must not be afraid to "open your kimono." Don't be afraid to share what you know and how you think. Open your kimono. Just let it hang there.

Well, that last line might be more applicable to guys. But hey, we're only 30% of the population anyway.

"This is America."

2010-08-06T22:30:00.009-04:00

A few days back, some of us Darden International students went for a first-time road trip out of Charlottesville. What better place than the nation's capital, right? So we went to Washington DC for some R&R and of course, to better immerse ourselves in the country's rich history.

We walked, talked, toured, took photos, walked some more, ate Asian food (that we miss so badly), and walked a whole lot more. Our feet could have died a premature death but we did cover pretty much everything touristy in DC--the wide array of museums (and there were lots of them! Good thing it was free), the US Capitol, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the Washington monument and the charming Georgetown.

We were taking a lot of photos at the foot of the Washington monument when someone suggested to do crazy poses to add flavor to our all-too-touristy photos. I'm not one to experiment on poses and obviously I felt shy with the many people watching and waiting for their turn to shoot photos so I declined. She said, "This is America! No one cares." I just had to throw my head back and laugh. Hard. She's right, you know. This is America. Land of the free. One of the oldest (continuous) democracies in the world. As students/tourists in this country, I guess we at least get a free pass at unrestricted freedom.

Too bad I missed my chance. Well, the next two years should present more opportunities.

http://almondspeaks.blogspot.com

Darden Firsts

2010-07-29T16:54:00.010-04:00

What's the best part about a new place, a new school or a new home? Firsts.

Many firsts will come my way in the next few weeks as I immerse myself in the Darden and Charlottesville community. My first encounter with some of my future classmates came last night when a bunch of us Darden incoming first year students decided to meet up for a pre-Darden get-together. Thanks to Facebook, the turnout was pretty good! Around 15 of us met at Basil restaurant at The Corner near downtown Charlottesville for dinner and drinks. International diversity was quite well represented with people coming from Brazil, Colombia, Nepal, India, Dubai, Taiwan, Philippines (yours truly) and of course, the US (San Francisco, New York, Chicago, Hawaii). Conversation was rich and interesting, with people getting to know each other and starting new bonds. Everyone had very interesting backgrounds and stories to tell--from engineers and consultants to journalists. I was the only boring accountant around!

We went to our first bar experience at Charlottesville where I had my first 'power hour'--a shot game where everyone is supposed to drink one shot of beer every time the music changed. I figured it won't be too difficult since songs changed every four or five minutes. Surprise, surprise: the bar played 1-2 minute edited songs! So yes, I bailed on that challenge. I don't like beer anyway.

After a few hours, we went to a different bar with better cocktails (those I can take). We played this strange game of shooting small sacks of sand into a hole, a long distance away. I guess it's supposed to test how good you can aim with a few bottles of alcohol in your bloodstream. I won twice :)

The rest of the night was spent exchanging stories over drinks and dancing. It's quite easy to be comfortable with people you find many commonalities with--whether a career objective, a job history, a dream vacation, or a point of view. I guess there's really truth to what all Admissions officers advised us about choosing schools--it's all about fit. When the night was over, it felt like we weren't strangers at all.

Tomorrow we're scheduled for some barbecue cookout at someone's place. Another first I'm looking forward to.

http://almondspeaks.blogspot.com

Hello Darden, Hello Charlottesville!

2010-07-28T00:17:00.005-04:00

Caveat:
This entry is long, detailed and feels like a 'Dear Diary' piece. So, caveat emptor.

After 22 hours of a cramped, long and arduous journey across the Pacific, I finally made it to Charlottesville yesterday. That trip is something I won't be volunteering for anytime soon. What with the very long immigration queue, stringent customs check and delayed flights. My sleep aid failed to work once again and I was alone with my sad-turned-anxious thoughts.

And so my first glimpse and feel of Charlottesville's abundant greenery and quaint charm was a warm warm welcome. The school grounds was a beautiful sight--extending many miles beyond my human eyesight--with students leisurely walking around the campus, enjoying what is left of summer. I get that scholarly feel and can't help but feel excited to be studying again after five years! The weather was warm, about 32 degrees C or 90 degrees F (I have to get used to measuring the temperature in F). Still nothing I'm not used to back in Manila.

I met my roommate and we bond easily. So happy about that! She was brave enough to rent a U-haul van by herself to fetch our furniture from a second year's apartment and move in to ours. Boy, am I lucky! We still haven't finished unpacking and fixing everything yet but we're slowly getting there. Yesterday ended with a nice dinner with one of the second years who very kindly helped us move in and offered free 'orientation.' Goes to show that Darden's tight-knit community and welcoming culture make two international students feel not so far from home.

Today was quite productive. We luckily stumbled upon the ID office when we were lost looking for the International Students Office. So we got our UVA IDs (weird seeing my face in that piece of plastic, looking like well, a student). We do get discounts from shops, restaurants, bookstores and even mobile carriers--student perks. The rest of the day was spent driving across different shops to cater to our different and urgent needs. So after spending 13 hours out of our apartment, we've ticked the following boxes: University ID, signed I-20 with ISO, AT&T contract, new bank account, new internet connection, home furnishings, and two all-American meals (we have to take our 'before' photos ASAP before the calories start pouring in).

Hmm.. not bad for a second day. There's still tons I need to take care of before I can sit down and truly enjoy Charlottesville but I'm savoring the joy of this novelty amidst the frenzy. I even filled my own gas tank for the first time!

When "Soon" becomes "Too soon"

2010-07-19T03:21:00.010-04:00

I've been MIA with blogging lately. This has been due to the fact that I am one week away from leaving Manila/Philippines hence the endless preparations I had to tend to--packing (I sincerely hate this part), pre-MBA requirements/preparations including quite a number of books to read, health requirements to accomplish, Visa acquisition, and my favorite part, getting together with friends for farewell lunches/dinners and simple hang out sessions that I've come to truly value. I realize now how much I've taken their company for granted. And how much I will miss each one of them.

So, enough with my excuse for being MIA.

Here I am now, taking a short break from my crazy packing session. I have 1 1/2 bags (of 2) full and still there's so much that I want to bring. How do you let go of your favorite jacket, already a size too small but has nostalgic value? How can you leave that cute (heavy) mug that a dear friend gave you for Christmas? How do you part with the countless CDs your friend gave you as music compilations? Or even your oldest pajamas that your brother got you for your birthday? You hate parting with these simple things not because they have monetary value but perhaps because when you know that you'll be away for long, you want to hold on to things that will remind you of the people you are leaving behind. You want to hold on to those memories that will pretty soon be compressed in your brain, to make way for the new ones you will be making, albeit with new faces.

So yes, right now I feel that "soon" has become "too soon."

I remember my life a year ago. More specifically, my life during my MBA application preparation. I practically didn't have a life anymore beyond GMAT books, MBA school researches, essay-writing, interview preparations and school information sessions. My weekdays were spent hard at work at the office, including stealing even brief lunch minutes of reviewing my GMAT notes. After work, I ate a rushed dinner and hit the books until 12mn-1am. After the GMAT hurdle, I still didn't get my usual 6-7 hours of sleep since I would set my alarm at ungodly dawn hours to check my email for updates from the schools, whether for interview invitations or the dreaded rejection mail. Thanks to the 12-hour difference with US time, I never got a moment of peace.

I remember that period of anxiety and agony. Most of all, I clearly remember the feeling of wanting so much so so badly. I wanted my dream of pursuing my MBA and 'soon' just couldn't get to me fast enough.

And like what people say, "be careful what you wish for." It's ironic that right now, I want more time here at home. I want more time with my family and friends, doing the most mundane of things--lazy Sundays watching TV, fighting over whose turn it is to wash the dishes, playing guitar hero marathons, catching the latest movie and hanging out in the coffee shop after. Things you never thought you'll miss terribly.

I realize that yes, you can want something so badly and you can pour over all your blood, sweat and tears to get it. And you just might, like I did. You took all the steps--the first baby steps, the trot, the run, the leaps and bounds. But when it's time to take that last jump, that final leap to seal the deal, courage no longer seems enough.

The familiars in Golf

2010-06-03T03:37:00.002-04:00

I always thought that golf was a stupid sport (no offense meant to any afficionados). I thought it was a rich man's sport. A very expensive game of chasing a small ball into a small hole across vast lands. It didn't have the competitive heat of basketball or soccer. It didn't have the team spirit of volleyball. It didn't even have the attractive outfits of tennis! To my naive mind then, it was a 'Daddy's 'sport.

But recently, I've taken golf lessons in the hopes of penetrating the so-called language of business. They say that most business deals are made in the golf course. And I definitely want in on that. So, in preparation for business school and the various networking and social events I will have to tend to very soon, I'm learning the sport and believe it or not, loving it!

I realize that golf is very much formulaic as with many things in life. Grip. Backswing. Drive. Follow-through. Hold. (or something like that). I thought that it would be easy. Just five or so simple moves. But it isn't easy at all. Apparently, golf is not just about a stupid ball into a stupid hole. Precision and consistency are key. A wrong grip, a wrong club angle, or an inaccurate twist of the shoulder can make or break your hit.

So in that sense, golf is like many other things. Formulaic but difficult. Like our jobs. People teach us the basics. In Marketing, it's: insight, concept, product, execution (forgive me, my Marketing is rusty). In Sales, it's: product, selling story, customer service (or something similar). In my job in Management Accounting, it's: numbers, analysis vs forecast, analysis vs historical data, recommendations.

But when you do the actual job, you just don't do steps 1, 2 and 3. Sometimes it's 1, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3 and many other combinations. Like golf, you have to mind your basics but you also have to make everything else make sense. And move in harmony. When you're there and you're actually doing it, you don't just repeat the steps--you feel the ground on your feet, gauge your target, hold your grip and control the energy you exert. In the bigger scheme of things, the basics will have to come naturally. As in our jobs. And in our lives.

Sigh. If only life were as easy as 'lather, rinse, repeat.'

Notice of Departure

2010-06-02T01:08:00.005-04:00

Today I received an email with the subject "Notice of Departure." It's not the first time that I've received an email such as this. I have had subordinates leaving the company hence the routing of the notice of departure with the necessary clearance forms. But this time around, the 'departing employee' is yours truly.

The big bold letters, the formality of the text, the finality of the words... It hit me. I will be leaving my company very soon. After five years, four business units, 11 brands, eight different positions/roles, countless financial reports and commentaries, my Unilever journey will come to an end.

I remember my first months with Unilever, fresh off college. I remember staying many nights at the office until 1am, cursing my work, pulling my hair off and vowing to tender my resignation the very next morning. But I had decided on giving it another chance. I told myself that these are just birth pains, that I would eventually get the hang of things. Thankfully, I did. I also remember the arduous new templates the Global guys or new bosses would ask me to accomplish in record-breaking time. I remember promising myself that my resume would be in the hands of headhunters by the end of the day. But it never did. Because I never quit.

Somehow, I always found a reason or reasons to stay--my company's noble vision, my supportive bosses, my talented subordinates, my brilliant colleagues and my challenging yet fulfilling job. Someone wise once told me that the day you find yourself forcing yourself to go to work, will be the day you should consider leaving your job. I've had many of those days. But I've had more days of being at the office, talking to my colleagues, brainstorming and challenging each other, coming up with product and consumer/customer solutions. And completely forgetting why I had a difficult time getting up in the morning. I loved my job and I guess no other reason except my commitment to further my education, expand my global network, learn from the world's best professors and students and all in all experience that quantum leap would have made me leave my job.

Notice of Departure. Yes, it hit me. Hard. And it felt like one big, painful, final thud.

Summer's Last Hurrah

2010-05-24T08:32:00.031-04:00

I'm not fond of swimming. Maybe because I don't know how to swim or perhaps because I nearly drowned twice when I was a kid. But I do love the sun, the sand and the beach. The combination, coupled with good company simply makes summer contagiously fun!
So I went to the beach with friends last week. Boracay (fondly called 'Bora') is a famous beach in the Philippines hailed for its pristine waters, powdery white sands and abundant night life to boot. And boy, did I have a lot of fun! The heat on my skin, warm sand on my feet and laughter all around reminded me of my carefree childhood. Living within a mile of the beach guaranteed me at least five summer beach outings every year. But the older I got, the fewer my beach getaways became. Seems like age always finds creative ways of pulling us farther from life's simple thrills. And so, this rare beach moment and the fact that this is my last summer home before I leave for my MBA in the US made the experience all the more priceless.

Looked like Fall...

Felt like paradise...

Especially with the fantastic view...

Picturesque times of day...

Unique enterntainment...

Good food...

And great company...

Business trip

2010-05-15T11:21:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow, I'm flying to Vietnam for a business trip--probably my last overseas business trip before I leave the company in about a month's time. Sad thought actually.

I'm not a fan of the long, uncomfortable plane rides, lonely nights at hotels, fully-packed meeting days, and coming home to a desk of high-piled paperwork to sign and a full inbox. But what I will miss is the diverse minds, personalities and culture that come together in multi-country meetings. It's amazing how most of us come from the same continent, work for the same company, abide the same principles and yet offer each other totally different perspectives of a common theme. That's one of the perks of a multi-country, cross-culture organization. Someone somewhere has had the same challenge you're facing now. Very rarely will you feel alone in your dilemmas or market battles. If you're lucky, your solution might even just be as easy as 'copy-paste.' Plus the language translation, of course. In my company's words, that's 'sharing best practices.'

Darden and AIM partnership

2010-05-11T19:10:00.002-04:00

I was perusing the Darden website and blogs and came across some very interesting news. Good news actually. The Darden School of Business has just signed a partnership with one of the top Asian MBA schools and incidentally is located in my country--the Asian Institute of Management (AIM).

I'm happy to hear that Darden is establishing strong relations with Asian schools and expanding their reach and connection to the Asian market and its upcoming leaders in business.

Darden Announces Partnership with the Asian Institute of Management
April 28, 2010

The University of Virginia Darden School of Business announces the signing of a partnership with the Asian Institute of Management (AIM), located in Manila, Philippines.
Mr. Edilberto C. de Jesus, president of AIM, traveled to Darden for the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding between the two schools.
“AIM is well known to us as a leader in graduate management in Asia,” said Darden’s Dean Bob Bruner, “and we are kindred spirits in the way we create classroom experiences.”
Like Darden, AIM uses the case method as a primary mode of learning in its programs. AIM was founded in Makati City in 1968 with a grant from the Ford Foundation; its case method curriculum was developed with an advisory group from Harvard University.
“AIM and Darden share roots,” said de Jesus, “and we look to learn from the experience of Darden as the field of graduate management education evolves.”
The two schools will engage in joint faculty research, joint case writing, exchange programs for graduate students, collaborative executive education programs and scholars from both schools will be invited to participate in conferences and lectures.
“From AIM, we at Darden seek to deepen our perspective on the Philippines and East Asia,” said Bruner. “The Philippines have enjoyed remarkable growth, which stretches the creativity of business leaders, and more mature economies like the United States can learn from this.”
Founded in 1954, the University of Virginia Darden School of Business improves society by developing principled leaders in the world of practical affairs.

Source:
http://www.darden.virginia.edu/html/news_article.aspx?id=21299

10 years A-counting

2010-05-09T02:35:00.006-04:00

I had dinner with an old friend last night. We caught up with each other's lives over salad and crabs. I updated her with my MBA plans and mentioned that I decided not to enroll in an Accounting pre-MBA course available for incoming students at Darden. As one of my closest friends during our BS Accountancy undergrad years, she said "You shouldn't! You've been doing Accounting for 10 years!" Instinctively and defensively, I started to say, "Of course not!" and then I realized that I spent almost five years in college studying Accounting plus another five years in corporate finance doing Management Accounting. So yes, my love/hate affair with Accounting has been going on for 10 years.

I never thought I'd end up in my career now. I wasn't the most enthusiastic Accounting student during college. In fact, I hated doing debit/credit journal entries and much more memorizing Auditing principles. The one subject that I liked was Management Accounting--a more niche market in the world of Accounting. Lucky for me, I ended up in what to me is the lesser (Accounting) evil.

I still clearly remember how I landed my job now. When I was first offered a spot in the Management Trainee program in my company HR asked me what function I wanted to pursue and I automatically said "Marketing." Ah, the enticing and sexy world of Marketing. Who wouldn't be lured in its glamour? Some Sales managers tried to sell me the perks of the sales job--the free car, gas allowance, meal allowance, incidentals allowance, etc. But I figured I wasn't patient enough to be in Sales. A Finance manager tried to convince me to choose Finance. The promise of a free calculator and Excel training weren't enough to sway me. So Marketing it was. I spent a good nine months as Assistant Brand Manager. Yes, it was fun, exciting and sexy. But the type A in me was looking for the method amidst the chaos. I yearned for something more concrete than "instinct" and "gut feel."

I moved on to my Finance (Management Accounting) stint and that's where the ball hit home. Corny and disappointing as it felt to me then, I was home. The best part was I felt that I got the best of both worlds as a finance business partner for Marketing. I satiated my need for order and method by doing Management Accounting work. But at the same time, I pursued my inclination for Marketing by being the business partner for Marketers. Essentially, I was the translator of Marketing's plans into viable business cases. For me to be an effective business partner, I had to speak Marketing and Sales language. So I was still actively participating in idea and insights generation but at the same time reminding my team of the financial implications of our decisions. So yes, it was the best of both worlds.

What made me stay and love my job? It wasn't the perks or the power and authority a finance manager holds. It's not an obsession with numbers. But the story behind the numbers. When people look at the small black and white Excel columns filled with seemingly senseless numbers, they probably see the number glare--the low or high sales growth, the so-so profitability, the high overheads, blah, blah. No argument there, b.o.r.i.n.g. What I do see is the story behind those seemingly senseless numbers. A growth figure is not conclusively high or low. It's the perspective and context of it. It might look low but you have to ask, "What happened in the past year?" "Was there a big sales upsurge not present this year hence an incomparable sales offtake?" If sales growth is so high, it doesn't automatically mean that the company is doing just great. "What is the market growth?" "Is the company growing alongside the market and competitors?" You get the message.

So to me, numbers are not just numbers. They have (believe it or not), very interesting stories behind them. I even came across an abnormally high sales month and no one knew the reason why. All other factors were normal except the unusually cold weather. So, my financial commentary read, "High sales is attributed to cold weather." Shoot me.

You know how painters feel when they see a blank canvass or what architects see when they see a barren piece of land? Painters see their masterpieces while architects see skyscrapers. I, on the other hand, look at plain old boring numbers and investigate the stories behind them. Sometimes I feel like a storyteller or a writer. It does make the work more interesting.

So that's me after 10 years of Accounting. Will there be 10 years more to add to this? Or five? Or none? I don't know. Let's see how the numbers add up. For now, it's 10 years and (a) counting...

Why blog?

2010-05-04T06:22:00.002-04:00

The last time I opened Microsoft Word to write an article was probably two years ago. Hmm… Let me add a qualifier to that: This does not include the monthly financial commentaries I write on the company’s topline and bottomline results. But come to think of it, those monthly writing exercises actually helped delay the formation of cobwebs in my right brain. Right. Those just appeased the regional and global controllers that we were spending their money right.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that I’m happy to be typing away trying to engage any readers out there.

So, how do I plan to engage you or what do I plan to blog about?

Short answer: my MBA adventure at the Darden (University of Virginia) School of Business

Long (checklist) answer:
-my (expected difficult) transition from a five-year stint in the corporate world to the world of MBA
-the ins and outs of the Darden MBA
-the changes I will go through and embrace
-the homesickness I know I will feel (big lump in throat)
-the diverse people I will meet and become friends with
-the cultures I will learn about and experience
-the travels I plan to take
-my musings and reflections on school, career, and life in general
-the lessons I will learn and mistakes I will learn from
-any other escapades as a Pinay MBA student in the US
-and any other relatively mundane adventures

Why am I writing?

Short (beauty pageant-like) answer: Because they say that this will be the best two years in my life

Long (-er) answer: Because they say that this will be the best two years in my life and I’ll be damned if I won’t have lucid memories of it by the time I’m sixty.

Hello (Blog) World!

2010-05-04T05:50:00.001-04:00

Blog
1. noun – (a contraction of the term “web log”) is a type of website, usually maintained by an individual with regular entries of commentary, description of events, or other materials such as graphics or video.
2. verb – to maintain or add content to a blog

*source: Wikipedia

So essentially, a blog is a modern-day diary with one difference—it’s for the whole world to see.

For those who know me, my sudden interest in blogging will come as a surprise. Not that I don’t like writing. Once upon a time, I spent the longer part of my days in a cramped and crowded room, full of editors, photographers, layout/graphics artists and student journalists-turned-layout-models. I poured hours and days into writing, editing and laying out the school paper. Sleep was a rare commodity and barely beating the deadline was the norm. But I loved every minute of it. It made my B.S. Accountancy undergraduate experience almost bearable.

So no, writing is not my issue about blogging, it’s the intimacy and openness of it. It’s like giving anyone who has access to the worldwide web a license to pick your brain and take a peek at your mind’s content. I pondered on it and realized, why not? If there’s something in there that could actually benefit another human being or even lend someone else an “aha” moment, then peek away!

So here I am, the virgin blogger ready to share her next big adventure!

Her Cup of Coffee [Archive]

2005-03-10T03:08:00.001-05:00

This article was originally published in the March 2005 edition of The LaSallian, the official publication of De La Salle University as my monthly column as editor.

I never did like coffee. There’s something about its bitter taste that leaves me feeling bad about something. But I know someone who loved coffee not only for its bittersweet taste. It was a love for it that I only recently understood.

Before I end my term as editor, I would like to impart a personal lesson. Something less complex than rules and policies to rant about, or solutions we seek and thirst for, yet can never quite fully quench. This will only be a story to hopefully learn from. But at best, it will be my long overdue thank you.

She was different. A man’s spirit and courage in a woman’s body. A beautiful face carefully hidden with a stern exterior. To those who knew better defined it as strength. To those who didn’t saw it as a product of too many storms and doldrums. Coffee was a staple diet to her. Her husband had awoken to its reassuring aroma. Her first-born had broken all too many of those brownish cups brimming with coffee. Her second child had wiped many of its brown stains on the carpet. And her third had grown to share the same love for it. She awoke with it and retired to bed with the brownish cup by her bedside. But more essentially, she waited with coffee.

She was not like most mothers. When most would readily finish their children’s homework and happily glue their hands together for their tykes’ art class projects, she wouldn’t finish her children’s tasks. But she had her own ways. It was only much much later in their lives when they learned that it was not a gesture of indifference but rather a lesson of independence. There she sat with them for sixteen years waiting for something one could not have directly pointed out, coffee after coffee, after coffee.

At the young age of thirty-nine, she was widowed. While others mourned loudly in grief, she was silent and glass-eyed, almost still. It was only later that everyone would learn of the fear that strangled her—the fear for her little ones, the youngest only eight. She could not have explained it to them better, “Nothing lasts forever,” but in deeper meaning, “I am alone.” And then there was coffee.

Many guessed she was waiting for someone, to have a hand to hold on to again but alone she raised her children. When examinations came, she would sit with them like she always did and willingly memorized the life Julius Caesar or the periodic table. It was easier to learn if the kid asked the questions and the mentor answered, she always said. In preparing for school competitions, she would act as actor or judge, villain or priest. They were learning and she waited for them til the wee hours, with shaky hands, coffee after coffee, after coffee.

When her eldest was ready for college and she was forty-six, her daughter left the province. One after the other, each child left home with heavy hesitation. Always, she would say, “What’s a few months? You’ll be back home before you know it.” And she threw herself harder at work, making both ends meet. At night she would call and wait for all three to be safe in their dormitories. And when they were all safe and sound she would say, “I just also finished my coffee.”

Now I am twenty-one and still, patience is not one of my best virtues. I’ve always wanted for things to come instantly lest I lose interest. I guess it took this long for me to realize what my mother has been teaching me for twenty-one years. When I was four, angry and frustrated for not easily mastering how to write my full name, she was waiting patiently for me to learn it. When I was seven, jealous and angry at the affection my brother was getting, she sat waiting for me to learn to love him. When I was twelve, feeling betrayed for the loss of a father who promised me many things, she was in more pain but waited for me to mature and accept life not only for its bliss but also for the wounds it brings. When I was seventeen, proud and naïve, I disobeyed her but found her still full of love and once again waiting for me to heal. When I graduated, ashamed and disappointed of my grades, she beamed with pride and waited for me to be content. All these years, she was patient. She weeped, struggled, and bled. But still she waited. And so now, I begin to understand her and her endless cups of coffee. Perhaps coffee was her way of coping and healing, of saying, “I’m just here. I’m not going anywhere.” To her, “No matter how long it takes, I’ll be waiting for you to come back home.”

I’m not sure what she’s waiting for now. For my brother and sister to mature? For us to go home? To someday settle down? For grandchildren? I don’t know exactly. But what I do know is how my mother so simply taught me that lesson in life—to find joy and patience in waiting. Life may not give you everything easily and instantly but if you must wait, wait patiently and wait gladly…perhaps coffee after coffee, after coffee.

Thank you, Ma. I’m so proud of you. I may not love coffee, but it could always be tea. I love you so much.

One Team [Archive]

2005-02-01T02:51:00.000-05:00

This article was originally published in The Philippine Daily Inquirer (Young Blood section) in February 1, 2005.

I have attended a number of seminars and workshops. Each of which aimed to instill in me the values of unity and leadership. But sometimes, in the process, igniting a sense of competition, of rivalry, and conflict. Because in the end, only one should emerge as the victor, the one leader in the pack. And then, the main goals of unity and solidarity are slowly broken into sub-groups, into smaller teams, and eventually just one “I” or “me”.

Great people have said that there is no more for two people at the top. Others even go to an extreme extent of saying, “It is not enough that I succeed, others must fail.” One workshop taught me otherwise.

Like everything, it started with a story, a challenge for 47 eager students. We were divided into three teams with each team given 12 golden bricks. Our mission: to let everyone cross the “river of crocodiles” using the 12 golden bricks, unharmed and at the shortest time possible. By the time my team used up all our 12 bricks, we were still halfway down the river, hungry “crocodiles” at our feet, and time ticking away fast. It got us thinking, “Who are we kidding? Unless we started growing gills and fins, there was no way everyone was going to cross this river.” Everyone shared the same dilemma. We were left scratching our heads with uncertainty. One facilitator, Mr. Jojo Alino, boldly asked, “How many golden bricks do you have?”
“Twelve,” came the chorus.
“Count again.”
It took a quick manual count, a number of prudent questions, and a few arguments before someone braved, “Thirty-six?”

Yes, three 12’s made 36. It was unfair that the instructions were not clear, and the fact that we were grouped into three teams had us assuming that we were competing against each other. But then again, it did say that “the team that crosses the river first, wins.” In this case, we were ONE team.

From 47 students, 16 universities, and 10 undergraduate courses, we became ONE team.
It’s surprising how differences can be compromised between so-called enemies and archrivals when the right occasion calls for it. I never imagined myself working (and read: harmoniously, albeit the periodic bickering) with whom we have fondly called “mga taga-Katipunan,”and the “mga aktibista.” Yes, (to my fellow Lasallians) I now appropriately call them by their first names.

One amusing conversation comes to mind. I had daringly and proudly told an Atenean fellow delegate about my newly-discovered “talent” of easily picking out an Atenean from a crowd. Not to be outsmarted, my Atenean friend said, “To be honest, I can easily tell if someone is from La Salle too.” Overheard by a delegate from UP-Diliman, the butt-in came as, “Really? I can’t tell a Lasallian or Atenean apart.” Now, that came as a big blow. But I can’t help but laugh at the frank comment. There we were, boasting about one’s “edge” over the other (whether who’s got the best basketball team, the biggest school grounds, or the hardest subjects), when in reality it’s the “same difference.” This coined term (“same difference”), no matter how paradoxically absurd can’t possibly describe the situation better.
No matter how better or more advantaged we feel over another (especially a long-loathed archrival), one person will always see both parties as equal, as one. This ludicrousness of course, has a deeper implication. Let’s take for instance, our pitiful country. If one may have noticed, we are more than a financially unstable nation. In fact, we are one unstable, divided nation. We fail to realize that people will not see Imelda Marcos (Guinness World of Records’ only woman with 3,400 pairs of shoes); National artist Levi Celerio (Ginness’ only man who could play beautiful music with a leaf); Ferdinand Marcos (the man who allegedly took away the largest loot in history); or Joseph Estrada (allegedly amassed $82 million in kickbacks and payoffs in his 31-month stint as President) as who and what they are. In a stranger’s eyes, they see ONE poor country, ONE desolate nation, ONE wretched people. And in a desperate time when all that’s left for people to cling on to is prayer, there is no room for mere competition.

This story is simple. It’s simpler than most parables, a whole lot simpler than your 800-peso Rich Dad Series but it is something most (if not all) of us forget or perhaps deem unnecessary. Why indeed should one share his glory to 46 others? Why can’t one be solitary in basking under the blinding limelight of fame, success, or wealth? Simple. Because it takes more than 12 golden bricks to build ONE lasting empire.

To the Unilever Business Week 2004 Committee and to my ONE TEAM family, thank you for teaching me life’s better lessons.

Las Fiestas en Siete [Archive]

2004-09-09T03:47:00.001-04:00

This article was originally published in the September 2004 edition of The LaSallian, the official publication of De La Salle University as my monthly column as editor.

I am promdi. For those who are not familiar with this term, it has been popularized to mean “from the province”. In my case, I am a promdi of Cebu City. This used to be a topic that I shied away especially on my first months in Manila. Not that I was ashamed to admit that I was a true-blooded probinsiyana but because I was avoiding the curious stares and raised eyebrows of people who sincerely asked if we had cable TV in the province or if I came to Manila with a bayong in my armpits. Boy, did I wish to name all 80+ channels covered by our cable TVs. At one point, I even made an extra effort to stress that I traveled to and from Cebu in an airplane (not in a boat that they supposed took more than a week to get to Manila) and that it was very rarely that you will find a bayong circling around the baggage cartels.

I grew up in a quaint little town, north of Cebu where everyone knew the wife of whom and the cost of the neighbor’s new car. It was a charming little place where minding your own business was not in fashion and considered selfish even. It was a place where fiestas were as popular as Christmas and where it came so early that you would actually see people feeling fiesta in the air. At seven, I welcomed the sharp squeals of pigs at dawn for it only meant two things—lechon and fiesta. At seven, I realized the indispensable nature of our fiesta. Christmas could be “postponed” by storms and hurricanes but not our fiesta. You always saw it coming. You felt it “going”. And how I loved it then.

Three years in Manila did not only mean three years of homesickness but three years of missing our fiesta as well. It always fell on September and for some reason, our trimestral break never allowed me to enjoy my visit home long enough to pig out during our fiesta. This year though, is an exception. For what seemed so long, I finally came home in time for our fiesta.

I don’t know where to begin or how to describe this yearly celebration that never failed to rouse the whole town like newly-borns. The first event that was celebrated days before the feast day was the torch parade where on one night, the people lit torches and marched and danced around the town in honor of our patron saint. It was like one big mardi gras. Lost in the sea of shrieking people, lit torches, and beating drums, I felt like I was seven again.

While I used to stand on tiptoe or sit on my father’s shoulders just to see the loud commotion during the torch parade, I now stood tall beside my mother and siblings and the hundreds of neighbors parading with torches around town. When I was younger, the highlight of the evening used to be the brave men who coated themselves in black grease, danced with the drums, and “breathed” fire while the young ones clapped their hands in glee. I waited. But no, I didn’t see my greased “heroes” now. What I saw were two, fully-clothed men who held small, thin torches in one hand and a cellphone on the other. It was then that I noticed the other changes.

What used to be candles or torches for light was replaced by the blinking lights of cellphones. Why don’t we call it the “cellphone parade”?What used to be hands thumbing the rosary beads and audible voices chanting vigils and prayers were now thumbs clicking away the keypads texting and hushed voices in gossip each assuming that other people around were praying. What used to be big images of our patron saint raised above our heads for tribute, was now gigantic Bob Marley pin ups. Until now, I still wonder of the logic behind this. The ati-atihan dancing was even “upgraded” to include the ocho-ocho and siete-siete dance moves. I looked around for the giant paper mache (or higante as we call it) and the decorated caro. The caro was decorated alright, but with sickly little flowers that barely gave off sweet fragrance in the air. How disappointed our patron saint must have been! The scary-looking higantes were replaced by cheap replicas of your modern day celebrities. There was a live gay version of Marina waving to the crowd with his tail; a giant Dugong which left the little kids running for their lives; a colorful Mulawin that started the elderly wives talking about the happenings of their favorite telenovelas. You can just imagine my horror when near the end of our parade stood the higante of our patron saint, the back of its head replaced by a higante version of our town’s political candidate. Talk about religious propaganda, huh?

Was it just me or has the times really changed? How quickly it has to begin excluding or forgetting the real essence of fiestas. If I wanted to know who’s in and who’s out in the telenovelas or start learning the newest dance moves, I could just have sat in front of the tube. Are the patron saints lame excuses for extravagant feasts and shameless parades of entertainment nonsense? Or could this have already been the sad reality merely re-invented by a hopeful seven year-old?

Las fiestas en siete. Fiestas at seven. I miss home. I miss fiestas. If only I were seven again.

Politics and the Theater called Malacañang [Archive]

2003-09-09T00:19:00.003-04:00

This article was originally published in the September 2003 edition of The LaSallian, the official publication of De La Salle University as my monthly column as editor.

Theater is an art sealed with passion, perfected with practice. So is politics. There’s really not much difference. Stage performers entertain their audience, while our dear politicians attempt to enchant the vote out of us with appalling dance numbers, lip syncs, and of course, the leery handshakes. The only difference really, is the entrance fee.

After the madness elicited by the ouster of actor-turned-president Joseph Ejercito Estrada, one would think that the government wouldn’t be graced with showbiz personalities (at least for a few terms or so). We would have thought that the people would be a little more wary in selecting and putting their trust in singing and camera-loving celebrities. Well, we thought wrong. The political limelight is still very much alive. In fact it is “burning” with a rumored more than 50 television stars, all vying or expressing their intention to run for public office in the congressional, city, and municipal levels in the 2004 May elections. The seeming avalanche of showbiz stars waiting for their poses taken not in the photo studios but in Malacañang is keeping the Filipinos highly aware of the upcoming elections. They surely wouldn’t want to abandon their idols now. No surprise there.

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The Evolution. Politics is not far behind science and technology. If apes evolved to become homo sapiens. Philippine Politics has evolved to include just about anyone who could read and write. And had there been no age restriction, Judy Ann Santos would most probably be mayor of some forlorn city.

This evolution of roles started back in the 1930’s and heightened in the 1950’s when candidates started hiring movie actors and actresses to draw and hold crowds ridding of orators and practically eloquence. Who needed eloquence when you have a handful of beauties and bodies rubbing you just the way you like it? You go home with a few hundred pesos, sardines, autographs, and ask, “What platform?”

After presidential candidate Ramon Magsaysay introduced the common tao approach in election campaign, attempting to remedy his lack of articulation, people soon realized the importance of more than mere vocal campaign. Soon enough, politicians became more physically exposed to the general public. Now, it’s not much of a shock to see politicians and government officials cutting ribbons or representing as wedding sponsors, or even some sharing their sex life, sex escapades, and STDs to the public. Now, that’s what we call, bridging the gap!

The reign of showbiz. Entertainment was and still is the leading factor in winning an election. The politicians needed the entertainers to keep their audience interested lest they’d go running to the opposing candidate getting their meager share of “amusement”. The politicians couldn’t get enough votes without them, so they were the ones in demand. So, instead of being employed by the candidates, they got wiser and what came out was a new breed of politicians. Fresh from Mother Lily and Kuya Germs! You can’t get this anywhere but the Philippines!

If you still need more proof of what a showbiz studio Malacañang has become, here is an unofficial list of aspiring candidates for the upcoming elections: Fernando Poe, Jr. for President, Singer Imelda Papin for Congresswoman of Camarines Sur, Action Star Gary Estrada for Congressman of Quezon Province, Comedian Roderick Paulate for governor of Albay, Action star Rudy Fernandez for Quezon City Mayor, Actor-Singer Tirso Cruz III for Mayor of Las Piñas City, Actress Elizabeth Oropesa for Mayor of Guinobatan, Albay, etc. (the rest of the list could take up half this column).

Although a great number of them are well-educated and may have the leadership to run our country, the greater majority has proven to be ill-prepared and ineffective. We have started a new trend in politics. Out with the traditional politicians or trapo and on with the showbiz stars. If there had been a worse option, the Philippines might as well give up democracy. Maybe that’ll give Bush another reason to come parading along Roxas Ave. and maybe we’ll spend another few hundred millions or so. No big deal. At least he’ll wear a barong.

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Perhaps the Filipino people could not anymore distinguish between reality and make-believe. You see Erap in protagonist role saving the world as Asiong Salonga in Leon ng Maynila and you think he’s just as good with politics. And now that his dear friend FPJ is said to be a presidential candidate, it will be no surprise that people would think Agimat could also save our country. This alone can trigger our distrust on our politicians and the stage show they might have caused our government to become.

If anything, our government has become one big carnival. In place of freak shows and your regular Houdinis, we have a better selection ranging from big-pocketed crooks, Jueting thieves, smuggling rich men, “schizophrenics” (if you called call someone with multiple identities and fortunately aware of it as such), and madmen or madwomen, all amassing our nonexistent wealth. Call them whatever you want. Any category could not better their decadence.

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No final curtain. The line of distinction between politics and theater or showbiz in the Philippines is a thin one. Too thin in fact that sooner than we might expect, there will no longer be such a distinction.

Theater, arts, and showbiz are fields the Filipinos are renowned to excel in. However, politics is a whole different arena. It’s easy to pretend, to memorize and adlib scripts, to plaster superficial grins, and wear out your hand signing autographs. What we need are leaders who can keep their feet on the ground, people who care more than their diminishing sex life or the thinning crowd of fans.

We face not pretense and fantasies but reality and this reality not only bites. It stings. Kills. And this time, there will be no one yelling, “Cut!” and no final curtains are drawn.

When Mona Lisa Smiled [Archive]

2003-01-31T20:35:00.000-05:00

This article was originally published in the Feb 2003 edition of The LaSallian, the official publication of De La Salle University as my monthly column as editor.

When does a teacher end and a pupil begin? Some say the boundary is merely the four walls of our classrooms, where teachers enter as tutors, and exit just as well; where students come and go unchanged, with new textbooks and filled notebooks, and yet, ever adamant. Others say the perimeter is drawn on that one fateful day (at the end of every term) when seemingly, teachers play god, as jury, or judge and students await conviction. After which, both part ways with each only a fragment of a memory in the other’s mind. Still others say that one doesn’t simply end and the other begin. Both must always co-exist.

When Julia Roberts portrayed a penniless prostitute winning the heart of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelor in Beverly Hills, it was not only sales that boosted up but hopes as well. Every other girl was saying, “I could be pretty woman”. And if it were not for the fact that we don’t have a Beverly Hills or a Rodeo drive, and much more, wealthy, ignorant and driverless men in coats calling out for help in the roadside, we would have pretty women lining up and waiting along Taft. When she played Julianne in My Bestfriend’s Wedding, the girls were suddenly eyeing and weighing up their male bestfriends. But when she played Miss Katherine Watson, the middle-aged, unmarried, unorthodox professor in Mona Lisa Smile, I wanted to be a teacher.

This is not the first time that I have been inspired by a movie. But this is the first time that I have considered the academe as a probable profession. Whether it was the setting of the movie, the exceedingly impressive college women, or the fact that Julia Roberts is one brilliant actress, the movie, in more ways than one, stirred me.

Watching the film, I am reminded of a teacher I had back in first year high school. She had the same uniqueness, the same passion, devotion, and commitment to her students not only for the present but for their future. Our first encounter was unforgettable since it had been a shock or a quite a blow on my part. Seeing her with a mass of papers in her hands, I had offered help. She gave me the strangest look, laughed and told me that I looked too skeletal to even carry five pounds of paper load. “Fine! I hope you roll down the driveway.” I didn’t say that of course. What I did though was tell everyone I knew about the incident. By the second week of school, she was as notorious as can be. Devious. So, who’s laughing now? I had felt smug about it.

She was a religion teacher, young, beautiful and full of spirit. I tried to deny the fact that I was enjoying her class, even anticipating the lively discussions. She always found ways to amuse the class even at the cost of her humiliation. She constantly asked me to recite, to read aloud and by the end of the quarter, I had the highest grade in class. Did she know I started the rumors and was this a part of her plan of vengeance? I never found the answer.

From late afternoon talks to birthday parties, I finally realized I found a friend. Our 12-year gap seemed unnoticeable, concealed by her eagerness to help me achieve my dreams and my willingness to let her. She believed in me and yet I never did.

Now, I ask, where is that magic? Where is the connection between students and teachers? Is it lost because we are older now, that we are finally adults and that sometimes we feel that we know more than they do? Or maybe it is because we call them “professors” and the name adds a certain weight, a seeming barrier that we are unable to penetrate. The older we get at the University, the more “professional” our relationships with teachers become. I am not saying that we should all go out, party, and start calling each other ‘pre or tsong. I am only hopeful that somehow we can remake the magic, that when we enter our classrooms, we do not only see a face, sometimes even nameless, but instead a mentor, a likely friend, someone ready to help us reach even the unreachable. I could only hope that when our teachers see us, we are not only a blurry of class records and a tally of student absences but ready minds and hopeful souls.

So, when does a teacher, as mentor truly end, and we, as students come into being? When we say “end”, we mean the exit from our lives, the conclusion of the syllabus, the granted independence. When do they hand out our grades and exit gracefully leaving us in euphoric bliss or in hopeless tears? And when do we start closing that door and forgetting their existence? It’s simple. They don’t. We don’t. Both must always co-exist. If not for one’s self, for each other, for the dreams, for our dreams and the fervent hope for a future.

(To Miss Lourdes Tarrosa, the best teacher I ever had, my mentor and my friend, I still thank God for a precious blessing. I am grateful and forever will be.)

With Honors [Archive]

2002-12-31T22:51:00.001-05:00

This article was originally published in the January 2003 edition of The LaSallian, the official publication of De La Salle University as my monthly column as editor.

I’m not used to sharing my personal sentiments to the open. This time, I shall make an exception.

Few were those destined for greatness. Too few, in fact, that the rest of us become shadows or lame silhouettes of futile attempts to make it to what everyone came to call the “top”: top of the class, topnotcher, top of the firm, top of the corporate ladder, you complete the rest. Whichever “top” it was always seemed better than anywhere below. It had become an epitome, a silent, yet known paradigm to complete the essence of one’s existence. You had to be somewhere or be someone above the ordinary. Even being anywhere that fell the slightest inch above anything or anyone became acceptable. As long as you had those whom you can look down from “above”. Sinful, yes, yet relieving.

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I was raised ambitious. Then again, who wasn’t? I woke up to the overwhelming challenge of becoming someone, of becoming a “name”, a figure no less than extraordinary. It all began with stars, not those that blanket the dark, vast sky, not even those that shine in the spotlight, but those little stars drawn on the palm of your hand. Kindergarten. My sister came home with a palmful of them. I, on the other hand, constantly tried to master the art of drawing stars with my left hand, always in vain. (I was never ambidextrous.)

The stars became A’s, then of excellent’s and superb’s, until the challenge grew to be with honors.

Now, let’s backtrack some more. Remember when you were five and your teacher asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up? The answers were always: I want to be a doctor so I can cure the sick; or I want to be a teacher and help my students; or I want to be a nun and serve God. Now that you’ve grown “up”, what do you say when asked the same question? I want a five-digit salary, insurance, and pension. And you call that honor?

So, here’s the complete picture: We work our butts thin in grade school, torment and deprive ourselves of some of the youthful luxuries in high school, and turn down free concerts and spend U-break in the library come our college years. The reward? An eight by eleven thin roll of paper spelling out WITH HONORS. (At least in the some lotteries, you get to win a trip for two to Hong Kong!)

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Life’s fate for us now seems to be determined by our course cards, our TORs, and the four-paged resume we still try to convince ourselves as genuine and “all true”. Why do you go to class when you would rather pretend to be sick? Why do you feel guilty of missing class even if you have unlimited cuts? Why can’t you settle for a 1.0 in RELS or INTROSO? We all have our petty excuses, oblivious to the fact that we are slowly consumed by a false notion of the measure of excellence. Excellence is equated with high grades, with 4.0’s, gold medals, and Proudly Lasallian pin ups. Who cared how you achieved these? You were already at the top and no one was stopping you. But somehow, in our hungry pursuit for success, we forget the inevitable. When you’re at the top, there’s no place to go but down.

At one point, you begin asking yourself, what does with honors mean exactly? Does it assure me of a good job, a decent pay, and a happy life? Does it serve as my one-way ticket to heaven too? Or would have my life been the same had I lived it as I would have wanted to? If God were to add an eleventh commandment, I strongly doubt it He’ll make something like, “Thou shall not fail Accounting”. Don’t get me wrong here. I spend my share of study hours on my desk too and even if it meant getting cozy with my calculator, I willfully refused untimely temptations. But not everything is about grades, course cards, Makati jobs, and salary premiums. Your honors do not measure the kind of person you are or the kind of life you deserve. It may get you the free car you’ve been coveting since freshman but the guarantee stops there. Who you are and what you will become will still lie on your very being. You are molded by your morals, principles, and values, not on the gold medals that hang by your living room.

***
I once came upon a film which starred Brendan Fraser and Joe Pesci, the title of which (as you may have already noticed), was With Honors. Talk about originality, huh? I hadn’t really given the movie much thought since I was then too young to appreciate good movies other than cartoons. I came to remember the movie when my co-editor and I debated over our column title. Our other editor in chief wanted to christen our column “Debit and Credit”. You can just imagine the war that it almost initiated! We didn’t want a name that highlighted our soon to be profession, we wanted something that somehow inspired and stirred us. As in the movie, Joe Pesci had said of Monti (Fraser), “…he will graduate life with honors”. And so, I say that honors is not only achieved in the classroom or during graduation, not even on the badges from the PMA. Honors is what you get for simply being a good friend, for being selfless and praying for others, for wasting your time lining up just to be registered for voting, for keeping your faith, and for the little things you didn’t think mattered but meant a lot to other people. These honors in life (though impossible to pawn) are worth more than the heaviest goddamn medal Recto can ever sell!