Taking the weekend off.

Living and working overseas can be exhausting.

When I'm living back in Melbourne, it's relatively easy to fall into patterns. I go to work, I have my various hobbies, and my social circle manages to fill the rest of the gaps pretty much without having to think too much. And if there's nothing happening, then I can just enjoy a book or watch tv or something, and not feel too bad about it.

But it's different when you're overseas. On one hand, there are the everyday challenges - trying to learn the language, learn a new job, make new friends, seek out opportunities for socialising without seeming too weird and needy. And that's just part of being a new person in a new place - you have to get up to speed before this little voice starts piping up in the back of your head...

Then there's the FOMO - fear of missing out. Taking every opportunity to make the most of my experience of living overseas. Travelling to another country each weekend, finding out where the local festivals are happening, or even just taking a day trip to a nearby heritage site.

I always feel like a day of doing nothing is a day wasted.

But at the same time, I realise that it's important to take time off constantly trying to push myself forward toward winning at life. And because I've got two big weekends coming up, I've decided to take this weekend off.

And so, my day consisted of:

- Sleeping in until 11am. I've had terrible insomnia lately, so I figured I'd let myself get a full cycle of sleep, even though I hope that changing my usual waking-up time won't make things worse.
- Going on a long walk. I discovered a small amusement park, and a couple of nice parks for walking through. I also saw my first hedgehog - not something I'd experienced before, having only ever previously lived in the Asia-Pacific region.
- Going to the cinema. Saw Pitch Perfect 2, which had its fun moments, but lacked a lot of the charm of its predecessor.
- Sitting in a cafe and read a sizeable chunk of the book that I'm currently reading.
- Writing my daily #blogjune entry.

Now it's Saturday night, and I'm going to bed at a respectable hour. With some luck, I'll be asleep by midnight. Yes, it's boring, I know, but I'll get back to my usual shenanigans next week.

For now, I'll let myself recharge.

How did I get here?

Now, since I'm participating in #blogjune, and the majority of participants are those working in the library and information industry, I thought I'd share a little on how I came to be where I am.

Firstly, one of the things that attracted me to this profession is the scope of work that I could potentially be doing. When undergoing my masters, we learn a range of library-specific skills, but more importantly, underlying all of these are professional principles of information management - which, of course, are essential in libraries, but they are also kind of essential in any work environment, regardless of whether they have a traditional library or not! And yes, all professionals have their own ways of managing their information and knowledge, but organisations often need somebody to coordinate this so that information and knowledge can be shared through a system that is compatible with all of its workers. Given the human element involved in the personal management practices of many staff, this is no mean feat.

So, as a professional, once you've established a strong knowledge of information principles, the opportunities for work are limited only by your imagination, your contextual knowledge of a particular industry, and the human resources budget of your prospective employer (and this is a major factor!).

So, given that you've done the professional groundwork (i.e. qualification and fundamental experience), how do you get the specialist experience to get to the interesting stuff?

Do you remember those word puzzles, where you change one letter at a time?

Source: http://www.powgi.com/puzzle/2015-03-02.png

Yes, there is the traditional career path of getting a job, and then doing your supervisor's job, and so on, moving up the hierarchy, and certainly, my career did start out that way:

Public Library Officer

Public Library Technician

Public Librarian

Public Library Team Leader

But it's once you start replacing some of the elements and completely changing work environments, whilst progressively developing skills, your career starts taking a completely different pathway - one that doesn't always seem organic at first glance:

Reference Librarian - State Library

Reader Development Programs Officer - State Library

Secondary School Library Manager

Community Development Librarian - Public Library
(Including partnership programs with schools/community and local history projects)

Librarian Trainer for a health library in regional PNG

Information Manager for a museum in regional PNG

Museum Programs Development Officer with museums in regional Vietnam

Knowledge manager for a cultural heritage / human rights NGO in Vietnam

Information Management Officer for a high profile international organisation in Kosovo

There are times where I feel like I'm following a winding path up a mountain, in the hope that there's a way down on the other side. It's hard work at times, but right now, the view is spectacular.

Get out of town...

Day three at work, and it was already Friday. Had I thought about what I was going to do on the weekend? Of course not! I had barely settled into my apartment, and despite my best efforts to adjust my sleeping patterns, my body was still off by something between 4 and 8 hours.

Fortunately, being the new guy at work, one of my colleagues invited me to join him and a couple of others on a day trip to Peja / Peć to visit a monastery and then go to a waterfall. I most graciously accepted.

Now, I'd only been in Pristina for three days, but after spending many months living in the big smoke of Hanoi, travelling to the neon jungle of Seoul, and then hipster central in Melbourne, it was quite refreshing to be sitting in a car for a couple of hours, staring out at rolling green hills, framed with jagged snow-capped mountains. As an Australian, unfamiliar with this landscape, I don't I'll ever bore of it.

Anyway, we passed through the city of Peja / Peć and to the UNESCO World Heritage site of the Monastery of the Patriarchate of Peć. This site was the seat of the Serbian Orthodox Church from the 14th century, though it sustained substantial damage during the Ottoman rule. As an important Serbian cultural heritage site located within Kosovo, and given the ethnic tensions that still remain since the Kosovo War, measures have been made to keep the site secure with guarded checkpoints at the entrance, requiring our ID to enter the site.

But stepping through the gates, into the walled grounds, it was like stepping into another world...

The interior of church itself was beautiful as well, and there's nothing like 600-year-old medieval frescos to transport oneself to another time. With the beautiful sunny spring weather, with a cool fresh breeze coming off the mountains, we didn't want to leave.

And then it was lunchtime.

After lunch, we headed up toward the mountains and visited a waterfall. I took some photos, but next to the above photo, it looks kinda dull. However, Peć is also the gateway to the Rugova mountains, part of the Albanian Alps, and I made a mental note that I definitely needed to return for some bushwalking in the future.

So, less than a week in Kosovo, and I already had a glimpse of what the region does best (other than coffee) - medieval monasteries and majestic mountains!

Driving on the wrong side of the road...

So, during my interview for this job, the subject of driving came up - firstly, and seemingly most importantly, if I could drive a manual car, which I confidently said, "Yes". Because it was true.

The next question: "Hmm... you're from Australia? You'd be used to driving on the left side of the road, right? How are you with the right side, considering that the traffic in Kosovo can also be a little unpredictable." I replied that I'd was used to the right side of the road here in Hanoi, and that I doubted that the traffic would be any crazier than it was here. Also true.

That said, I may have neglected to mention that I was used to driving a bike on the right side of the road, and that I might have some trouble driving under such conditions in, say, a large Toyota 4WD.

Flash-forward to Day Two on the job, and I've been booked in for my driving exam - and I'm presented with a large Toyota 4WD. Possibly the largest vehicle that I have driven, like, ever. And my first task is to reverse park in between two tiny traffic cones (which promptly disappeared once I was within a metre of the space). I had three goes to get it right. Somehow I succeeded on my second go, which meant that I was clear to proceed to stage two: the streets.

So, I had been mentally preparing myself for this moment for 24 hours, and there were a number of rules going through my head.

1. Stay on the left right side of the road.
2. Pedals are the same as usual.
3. Change gears with my right hand (not my left).
4. Indicate with my left hand (not my right).
5. Overtake on the left (not the right).

With all this in excellent espresso-fueled mind, I was ready to hit the fury road!

I will ride eternal, shiny and chrome.

However, my course wasn't so much the Fury Road as it was a series of confusing slow-paced obstacles, so my driving probably came across more like this:

On the plus side, I managed to avoid stalling the car, or opening the car door when I meant to change gears.

Unfortunately, there were a few unfortunate moments:

1. Pedestrian crossings. Firstly, we're actually meant to stop for these - as we are in Australia, but not in Vietnam. At least not that I'm aware of. However, the presence of a pedestrian crossing every 50-100 metres presents the dilemma of either taking twice as long to get to one's destination, or maintaining just the right amount of aggressive velocity to discourage a pedestrian from wanting to step out in front of you, whilst also travelling slow enough to stop if they DO step out onto the crossing.

2. Left-hand turns. Whilst right-hand turns are easy, left-hand turns turned out to be terrifying. Again, my risk-aversion meant that I missed a few windows-of-opportunity to turn. Also, remember to stay on the right.

3. Allowing enough space. As it turns out, drivers in Pristina are accustomed to only allowing an inch more than absolutely necessary when passing one another in a tight spot. I, on the other hand, am not.

4. Three-lane roundabouts. Seriously, what the hell? Apparently there are rules for which lane you're meant to be in, depending on where you plan to exit the roundabout, which results in traffic zooming between lanes whilst within the roundabout. Plus I'm meant to indicate when changing lanes. I think I'd rather a life of hook turns, and navigating the Elizabeth Street Roundabout of Death over this.

So, at the end of my test, my examiner paused for about 20 seconds, which felt like they lasted forever. He didn't explicitly tell me that I'd failed, but suggested that I get a few hours' practice driving on Pristina's streets, and then come back to him, and he seemed confident that this would be no problem once I'd built up some familiarity.

I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Fortunately, I wouldn't need to do the reverse parking test again.

Two weeks (and half a dozen hours of driving) later, I met up with my examiner again, and passed with flying colours with one accidental curb-bump which he chose to overlook.

Welcome to Europe's youngest capital city.

So, upon touching-down at Pristina International Airport, I somewhat-anxiously awaited the arrival of my luggage which, after three consecutive flights with two different carriers through two major airports, I wasn’t 100% optimistic about. So, when both bags appeared on luggage conveyor, I knew that I was already winning.

I was met in the arrivals hall by my work colleague, who drove me into town to find me a hotel room for the night.

The view of Pristina from my balcony.

First impressions:

• Okay, we’re on the right-hand side of the road again.
• The roads are in good condition, and it’s all cars, no motorbikes.
• For 10pm on a Tuesday night, there are a lot of people out and about.
• Many of them are young people – mostly in their 20s.

On this final note, my colleague explained to me that many of those who lived in the central Pristina area were university students. However, Pristina is also the “youngest” capital city in Europe. This is not only because it is the capital of Europe’s newest independent nation, the Republic of Kosovo (though, whilst this is recognised by Australia, there are still many nations who do not recognize its sovereignty). In terms of demographics, 50% of the population are aged under 30 years.

Indeed, in the weeks that followed, walking down the main pedestrian strip of Nene Tereza Boulevard felt a lot more like wandering through a university campus, with many young people gathered at cafes, or wandering along, dressed in designer clothes and enjoying each other’s company. Certainly not the culturally-devoid Balkan backwater that some would have had me believe before arriving. In some ways, Pristina reminded me of Melbourne – mostly because everybody is well-dressed, and the coffee is excellent.

Let me say that again – the coffee is excellent. I have yet to have a bad coffee here, compared to Vietnam, where it generally ranges from passable to awful, and unfortunately coffee is almost undrinkable in Macedonia and Bulgaria. But here, every café has an espresso machine, and everybody drinks macchiatos - though my preference is for an espresso, no sugar necessary.

Finally, Pristina’s population is 90% Muslim. There are numerous mosques, and there’s no escaping the intermittent call to prayer, broadcast from their minarets. But at the same time, religious expression os not something that I’m overly aware of when interacting with the local people. It’s certainly not present from the way people dress, and from conversations I’ve had with people, attitudes range from completely agnostic and indifferent, to “it’s purely a personal thing”. It feels a bit like Australia's relationship with Christianity, to be honest - it's present, but nobody's going to judge you either way for your own beliefs, nor force it upon you. Furthermore, the government has had a no-tolerance policy of citizens who go to fight with ISIS in Syria, with offenders facing up to15 years in prison. If anything, this is a city that feels like it challenges Western notions of Islam being oppressive and culturally restrictive. It also sits in a happy co-existence with the Catholic church here – who proudly claim Mother Teresa as one of theirs.

So, overall impressions? It’s a small city – with a population of 200,000 people, it sits somewhere between the size of Hobart and Geelong. As a young city, it’s still trying to find its own cultural identity, still living in the shadow of its past, and not yet sure how to assert itself into the future. But that said, it definitely has its own liveable charm, with its share of visiting international cultural festivals, al fresco dining and drinking, and a vibrant social life.

And did I mention it has good coffee? It’s the small things that are the most important.

Preparing for Kosovo...

When I first told people that I was moving to Kosovo, the following reactions ensued:

- A look of surprise. Kosovo isn't exactly on anybody's radar when you're living and working in the Asia-Pacific region. I'm pretty sure most Australians wouldn't be able to name all the independent states that emerged from former Yugoslavia.
- Slight confusion. Why would you go there? Why indeed?
- Sudden concern. Is it safe? Most people associate Kosovo with the conflict in the late 90s.

In fact, when the opportunity presented itself, these were also my main reactions. Fortunately, my thoughts were along the lines of:
- I don't know anybody who's been there, so all the more reason to go. (This was also my reasoning for going to PNG. Twice.)
- As an Australian national in my 30s, it's pretty much my only chance to live and work in Europe.
- Finally, according to the Smartraveller website, travel in Kosovo requires a "High degree of caution". This puts it on the same level as Papua New Guinea, Myanmar, or Russia.

To be honest, I was a little apprehensive, and even stalled on making a final decision. I consulted a few friends who had been there, and the impression given by them was that it was "a bit of a shithole" (their words). However, in my travels in Laos, I encountered a development worker who had lived in Pristina, and she said that it was one of her favourite places in the Balkans, and the coffee was excellent. Furthermore, around that time, I read an article about the Most Beautiful Cinemas in the World, which included Dokufest - the International documentary festival - held in Prizren every year.

Good coffee and a documentary festival seemed like enough of an incentive to be flown across the world for a job. It would be my first foray into the thus-far undiscovered continent of Europe. I also knew that working for a high-profile international organisation would be excellent professional experience.

But mostly, I figured that this really was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and that I would regret passing it up.

So, I took it.

Prepare for #blogjune 2015.

So, it's been a while since I've blogged. Not that this is a great surprise, as my level of discipline applied to such things has been pretty much non-existent.

But it's June. More specifically, it's #blogjune - where I will blog every day for a month.

Last year, #blogjune was a fantastic excuse opportunity for me to reflect on my work and career, and put into writing many of my thoughts and ideas (some more eloquently than others). This in turn became the basis of much of the presentation that I delivered at the ALIA conference in September.

You can see the presentation below, but it won't make a lot of sense without having the words to go with it.

This year, my month of blogging will be quite different. It'll be a chance to recap the past six weeks, during which I've been living and working in the Balkans, and attempt to summarise my initial impressions, and attempt to make sense of it all. It will be interesting to look back on in a year or two from now and see how much my perspective changes through the years.

So... stay tuned!