Closing Doors

I’ve decided that I’ll probably bugger off from Bangalore at the end of the year. Where will I go? Goa of course! It would be a crime if I missed Goa for new years while I was actually in the country and many people have already told me this.

So I was thinking about three weeks in Goa, basking in the afterglow of a job well done in terms of the movie, and then on to the next place. Where will I go? That’s a little harder. I was thinking about going to Dubai, but that stuff has to be confirmed.

The annoying thing is, though, that I actually have to make a decision about where to go. You see, I got an un-extendable visa extended for three months, but they want to know when I’m leaving and from where to where I’m going to fly.

Bugger.

As you might have noticed I’m not especially good at planning. I like to flow with the go and just see what happens. I feel that when I have to make choice like this I’m closing at least a dozen doors.

Still, I’d like to see Dubai, so that’s probably the best choice to make. I really can’t see what will happen after that. Maybe I’ll go somewhere else, maybe back to India and maybe off to Europe to prepare or university. Truth be told, unless my options run out out here that last option seems the least appealing. I’d at least like to wait till the summer has stared before I hit Europe again (I hate the cold).

Plus when I hit Europe I’ll be poor again (at least in relation to everybody else). I like being well off (or pretending to be, even as my funds steadily dwindle) and the idea of having to scrounge for a beer, not go out because of financial worries and doing my own laundry is truly unappealing.

Maybe I should just get rich. Concentrate a bit more on making money and a little less on learning everything else. Then I would not have to worry about things like that anymore. Maybe I should just put my head down and earn.

Or maybe I should just avoid moving back to Europe for a while longer! Yeah that sounds easier, lets do that.

Party at my place!

I was supposed to go to bed early yesterday. It was, apparently, not in the cards. I went to the club I usually go to in Bangalore, namely Taika, danced a little bit, had a few beers and generally had a good time. Then, about half way through the night (which only lasts a few hours, as I’ve told you before) one of the guys I know said ‘hey, is your place near by?’ ‘Yeah, pretty close’ I answered. ‘Cool, can we have a smoke there?’ ‘Yeah sure, why not? Can I invite my friends?’ I asked. He gave me a strange look at this point. ‘Yeah, it’s your place.’ He had a point.

The thing was, what was meant to be just a few drinks, a few people and a few joints turned into a massive festivity that had the landlord shouting at both me and my neighbour in the morning. Actually more my neighbour, as the landlord’s English isn’t that good.

I went to bed at eight. I guess you could call that early.

When you go to a good party, you have a great time, but when you throw a good party it is far more satisfying. Well, except for the cleaning up afterwards. There was about ten of us and we drank three bottles of whiskey, two bottles of vodka and smoked a huge number of cigarettes (we had to go make cigarette and booze runs throughout the night, which became more and more interesting the more and more drunk the driver became).

As you might have guessed we all got totally smashed. Two women passed out on beds (the party hasn’t started till the first person has passed out) and nobody actually left till the sun was well and truly up. That is always a good sign, I believe. When nobody leaves the atmosphere must be good. I have to go by thinks like that, because my memories are far too tainted by my intoxication to be much of a guide.

I love impromptu parties. The great thing about them is that there is no anticipation. Nobody expects anything and therefore they just go with the flow. Planned parties are almost always disappointing, but there is no time with impromptu parties to have any emotional build up.

Two parties till the wee hours in three days. Not bad in a town where it’s officially all supposed to end by 11:30.

I’m feeling a lot better, thank you

Saturday we went out and had a blast (Even though the actual locations hadn’t changed a great deal) and I ended up meeting a whole bunch of new people. New people equals new ideas and new interactions, so that brought me back on top pretty quickly. What is more, on Sunday we started meeting people to fill all the roles associated with the short movie (we’ve got a producer and a director, we might have a lighting person and we thought we had an actor but that didn’t go anywhere). That was a great deal of fun. This short film is obviously turning into another good excuse to meet yet more people.

This week I’ve got to try and do some serious work (enough piss farting around), but that’s good as work makes me happy. Well, work I enjoy anyway.

The thing about modelling is that it is actually a lot more work than you would expect. The stuff that happens in front of the camera and on the catwalk is actually the easy part (and the least stressful). It’s the networking and getting people to know that you’re available (and like you enough to use you rather than somebody else) that takes most of the work. So that’s what I’ll be doing this next week, getting more people in the fashion industry to know that I’m around.

I know a lot of people everywhere else, but the fashion industry people seem to be pretty insulated. It’s all a matter of finding people that know people and then convincing them to put in a good word with the people they know. Rinse and repeat.

People say that I should feel lucky that things are going as fast as they are. Well, at least I’ve got a lot of free time! After all, this is still supposed to be a holiday, though I’m no longer exactly sure why it should be.

Goa for new years. Definitely in the cards. That should be a real blast. It seems that half of Bangalore will be there (if you hear them talk) which might not be completely a good thing, but hey I’m just dying to get back to the beach. What is a six month trip without a great deal of time spent baking on a thin little strip dividing the wet from the dry?

Oh yes, and I’ve joined face book; though most of you probably already know that. It’s interesting to see who’s out there and it’s nice to at least have an idea that you’re still in touch with people, though you’ll probably never see them again.

Yeah, things are better. If things continuously get better than eventually everything will be perfect, or at least in theory.

Drained

I finished my script last night and ended up absolutely drained as a result. Emotionally and psychologically the energy was pretty much gone. I desperately needed new stimulation, in order to start recharging my batteries, but didn’t actually have the energy to go and find it.

My friends were, unfortunately, not much help either. They all had their own problems to deal with (as well as letting themselves get infected with my mood). I would have loved it if one of them would have taken the lead and I could have just been dragged along in their slip stream, but that was not to be. So we just sat around and stared at each other.

I’ve found I’m a new experience junky. The best way to stress me out and have me slide into depression is to make sure that my environment doesn’t change. This means the places I go, the things I eat and the people I hang around with. As long as there is some new stimulus to incorporate into my life, I’m happy. When there is nothing new, however, I seem to slide into a self-absorb self analysis that is ultimately useful, but not a great deal of fun.

I’m hoping Bangalore still has some new stimuli to offer. It should, I sure, I just have to approach this city in a new way. Maybe try to avoid the coffee shops, the bars and the clubs and find something else to do.

The question is, I’m not sure what there is to do! I’d love to see some movies (movies are a great way to get dragged along in somebody else’s slip stream) but the movie theatres here only show Bollywood (not only, but the non-bollywood movies are irregular and at strange times). I’m already constantly reading and writing, so unless I change the theme of my reading (I’m might be reading too much science right now, which is certainly informative but not very escapist) that isn’t really an option.

I could leave town. Not for ever (I don’t think that’s a wise choice) but for a while. It would be great if I could find a beach somewhere to just sit on. I might be too far away from things for that (Bangalore is pretty much spot in the middle in the south), but I’ll have to check that out.

Basically I need new stimuli. Anybody got any ideas?

Scripted

Since Monday I’ve pretty much been in self enforced exile. I’ve trying to write a script, you see, for a short film. The thing is that it’s a short film, which means you need to write a short script. You’d be surprised, but writing a short story is, page for page, massively harder than writing a long story. Each sentence has to carry so much more of the meaning that you’re trying to convey.

It’s been quite a journey and I’m only half-way done. Basically, I spent 48 hours – with the occasional break – sitting in my room. Now writing a short script isn’t so much about the actual writing as the process of deciding what to write; so most of the time I was just lying there, staring up at my ceiling fan. 48 hours is a very long time to be staring up at your ceiling fan, believe me.

In a way it has actually been a good thing that I have almost nothing in my room. That way there is little that can distract me from what I’m supposed to be doing. Of course, I did find distractions in books, solitaire and wiggling my toes, but that doesn’t compare to the amount of distraction I would have been able to find elsewhere.

The thing is that I need to finish this script as soon as possible. The reason for that is that we feel we must do something before we’ve all left Bangalore and making a short movie seemed ambitious, but doable. The sooner I finish the script, the more doable the entire idea becomes.

So, in a way, whether we believe Bangalore was a success or a failure currently depends on me. No pressure, though. None at all. Of course, I could just be being arrogant again and the only person that cares could be me, but sometimes it’s fun to have delusions of grandeur.

Alright, back to work.

Social Lubricants

I had too much to drink last night. I blame it on the gin. Normally I’m a beer guy, but recently I’ve come to realise that beer and abs don’t go together. If I want one, I’ve got to let go of the other. Of course I can’t let go of the beer entirely (that would be un-Dutch), but I can try and reduce my beer intake.

I just realised that the above paragraph probably sounds incredibly vain. Oh well.

Anyways, so I drank gin soda, as that was bound to be better for my waist line (if not for my brain cells). Gin soda has no calories, very little taste and a kick that would do a mule proud. In my case it kicked me right in the head.

I had a great deal of fun, I’m sure, but the next day I didn’t remember most of it (it made me coin a new phrase: Alcohol Induced Amnesia, or AIA for short) and the memories I still had I would rather have forgotten.

For instance, I remember running around with some dude’s scarf that he had been wearing with his Indian clothes and was obviously expensive. I also remember not remembering what the man I’d taken it from looked like. Fortunately I did manage to find him in the end and return the thing, but still a strange thing to do. A woman’s scarf, yes, but a guy’s scarf? Probably not the best idea in the gay capital of India.

Then I remember that I somehow managed to get the numbers of three of the hottest girls that had walked the ramp that night (the party was because of a fashion show and all the big media people and designers were there, something that made my drunken antics all the more painful the next day). I also remember telling at least two people. The thing is, I do remember one of the people I told that to, but the other person is but a silhouette in my recollection. It might well have been a complete stranger. I really shouldn’t be boasting about which girl’s phone number I got to a complete stranger.

Then there was the designer who I asked if it was hard being straight and a designer. An interesting question I thought at the time (and still do), but slightly inappropriate when you’ve only just met a person. He didn’t seem to have been offended or taken aback, (he said all the really big designers were straight, so it should be doable) but that was just pure luck on my part.

That’s the stuff I remember. I wonder what I don’t remember. I guess all there’s left to do is wait to see if there’s a reaction and hope there won’t be. What ever happens, it might be a good idea to drink a little less.

Dealing with Down

I’ve come to realise that what people need when they are in a bad way is not intellectual arguments, but emotional support. We might think that we are logical, but in reality we are far more instinctually and emotionally driven than we realise. We post rationalise a great deal more logic into a situation than was actually there.

When people are down, they aren’t being logical. Being down is a state of mind, not an argument of the mind. The depressed just aren’t interested in logical arguments. You need to give them arguments relevant to their state of mind.

That doesn’t mean you have to be nice to them. People that are down are often not helped by you being nice to them. Often they have to be shocked out of their behaviour. Frequently, people use their downward mood swings to get attention. Many people crave sympathy and pity, often enjoying the very act of self pity in a masochistic kind of way. The thing is that any intense emotion – be it love, hate, desire or self-pity – can be addictive.

Don’t get me wrong, for many people are helped by the moral support that a good friend can offer. They will use that person to help themselves get back up again, as a sort of crutch. The problem is that sometimes they then become dependent on that crutch or come to enjoy the act of being helped so much that they can’t help but fall back down again to provoke a similar reaction.

A tactic I’ve started to use with some success recently is to not allow them fall into self pity. It is a matter of imposing your own frame on their world and not giving them the chance to let the world slide into their frame, in which case their problems again become important. By pulling these people into your own frame and showing them it is possible to live without their problems for a while you give them an alternative. Hopefully they will then pick up a new mindset and learn to let go of their problems.

Once they do this they can actually start to solve their own problems, or come to realise that they aren’t actually as big as they’ve made them out to be. Self-pity is self defeating in that it pushes those who can help you solve your problems away from you. Often many of the problems in a depressed person’s life are actually created by their depression and can’t be dealt with until the depression is first cured. They do things the wrong way around by dealing with their problems (the symptoms) and not the depression (the root cause).

Help these people let go of their depression and the rest of their lives will often get a great deal easier, with many things falling into line. The best way to make people let go is to show them an alternative setting without depression and show them how much better things are.

Everything has an Explanation

Indian men have a reputation all around the world as being pushy, aggressive and too open in their interest. Before I came to India I always used to think ‘that is the way they are’ but of course that’s not fair. Nobody just is the way they are. Everybody has an underlying reason for everything they do, be it genetic, educational or cultural. Everybody always believes they are making the best decision based on all available data. So there must be an underlying reason for this reputation (which is well deserved, I might add) and I think I’ve at least found part of the key.

This type of behaviour must have evolved as a viable strategy to the counter strategy used by their ‘opponents’ (In plain English: men must do this because it works on women). This does not mean I’m blaming the Indian women for the men’s behaviour, this is not an excuse for the men to behave the way they do, but it might be an explanation for why they do it.

Men in India are supposed to pursue and women are supposed to be pursued. You can see great examples of this all over the TV programs, the movies and the music videos. The man starts making his advances (which do involve grabbing, constantly pushing and generally doing everything that would piss a foreign woman off) and the woman acts as if she’s not only not interested, but as if she actually actively dislikes him. He continues and she softens to him. Finally she falls madly in love with him and they get married. This theme replays over and over again, in different varieties, everywhere.

Is it then surprising that many of the women, who’ve grown up on that stuff, play similar games? They give men, as the proverb goes, just enough rope to hang themselves. They display just a little bit of interest – a caught glance, a brush of the shoulder, or getting within their intimate zones – and then they back off and actively ignore the guy. If the guy doesn’t notice, they repeat, if he does and starts flirting back, then the women fall back and act haughty and un-interested; but the moment his interest starts to flag (and he’s shown enough interest in the first place) she’ll give him another little sign and so the dance continues.

In the west, as a friend pointed out, they call this ‘cock-teasing’ and it is highly frowned upon. Over here using any more straight forward tactic, however, would often appear slutty and easy.

Of course, the thing is that with the signs being so small and few in between the Indian men often interpret the wrong thing as signs (as they are socially obtuse), or they assume they can’t see the signs and go in regardless.

This causes a lot of suffering on the part of women.

It also causes a lot of suffering on my part, because I refuse to play these types of games. I know I’m supposed to follow the social rules of the country I’m in, but unfortunately in this case dignity keeps getting in the way and I keep walking away.

I’m starting to see why most of the men here are so keen on the foreign women.

Conversations

There was a cigarette, who was like her mother. “Free age one please, sir” he said. Do we have salt, he asked, we need salt. And we don’t have chilly powder! How can you disturb me while I’m shopping!

Flickering through different version of reality, the window to the other side crackling with visions. They scattered around, looking for the things they needed; but it was too late for the shops were closed. We’re mixing it all together, that’s the only way.

Don’t send me there again. One by one were going to make it. The cups clattered in the drain. No lights, no gauges, tires were skinny, the doors were broken, good luck. Nothing but perfect, but for a very high price. But I thought we wouldn’t be having any meat, right?

I believe you picked me, you’re a great guy and I’m so excited. Fuck. Can you do me a small favour please? No, no no, for real, this thing sucks. Tell me what you were thinking about today.

My passport thing, I’m feeling I don’t want to go back to Dubai. She walked past, fanning herself with her hand. You need honey. Headaches? I always take one, but I don’t know how many you need.

Michelangelo would be proud of you. We keep it in the fridge, right? I’m doing something interesting. That’s good to hear. The second question from the assistant was, ‘are you married?’

This gives power to the motor. Shall I keep these two things somewhere else? White, Yellow and Orange. They brought in a corkscrew. This would allow the window to go up and down. Lets go get a bite to eat.

And the mute button is there, apparen…

Autograph

Yesterday was the first time somebody asked me for an autograph. Somehow some people had thought it was a good idea to launch a new barbeque restaurant with a fashion show. They paid me and gave me food and booze, so I wasn’t going to complain. Anyway, after the show was done and I was into my umpteenth beer this little girl comes up to me, must have been six or seven, and asked for my autograph.

So I slapped her.

Just checking if you’re still awake! I didn’t actually slap her. Instead I did what I was supposed to do and signed. There was about four or five other people that they had got signatures from, so it wasn’t as if I was that special; but it was still a new experience.

Apparently the fashion week has been a success, at least for me. I’m still waiting to see what the fall out will be, but people recognise me now, that’s for sure. Is this my fifteen minutes of fame?

I’ve taken to just assuming that it won’t maintain itself and enjoying it while it lasts. Of course, hopefully I’ll be able to make a bit of cash before it fades away completely, then on to Goa.

I really need to get back to the beach. I want to find myself a little beach hut by the side of the water and write about all the shit that’s been happening to me. I might well be able to produce something worth while. I’ve got a number of short stories that desperately need writing (except for sleep, the thing that has suffered most lately from my popularity has been my writing) and some time to recalibrate would be good.

Though, that said, I’m back on an upswing. The last two weeks were a bit down (everybody has those swings right? It’s just not me that’s nuts, is it?) but now I’m back in full force and enjoying life as much as I possibly can.

I wonder, if I read back over my blog, would I be able to spot those periods where I had my down swings and those periods where I was up and happy just by the language I use? I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

The Day After

Yesterday was the last day of the IMFF and the last day of the first week of work I’ve done this half of 2007. It was a gruelling week. What got to me (and everybody else) the most was the standing around, waiting for people to decide where you go in the order, what clothes you should wear and if a shawl should or shouldn’t be added. The word modelling has lost its original meaning for most people, I think. To model means to stand as an example of how something would look.

We create models of the world to test our hypothesis. These models are then put up to stringent test and inspected from all corners to see if it holds true and gives an accurate representation of what it is trying to model. These models rarely complain because, for one thing, they are not sentient.

Unfortunately, when your model is a human being and you spend as much time looking at it, poking it and considering it, that human model often won’t appreciate it terribly much. People think that modelling is all glamour, parties and pictures. Most of modelling, however, consists of standing around and waiting for something to happen.

You don’t realise how tiring doing nothing can be until you’ve been forced to do it for five days.

Last night there was supposed to be a party to celebrate the ending of the fashion week. There was a frenzied, desperate pushing at the door with people trying to get in, screaming and generally acting like there was actually something worth seeing inside. There wasn’t, really. Just clumps of people standing around and talking, wondering why they had tried so hard to get inside in the first place. I think the negative energy of getting into the hall seriously affected the atmosphere, poisoning everybody’s mood before they had even arrived.

Then, at about 1 o’clock they police arrived and shut the entire party down. I had kind of expected that the party organisers would have been well enough connected to make sure something like that wouldn’t happen, but apparently they quite frequently have run-ins with the police, according to the rumours that have come my way.

As a whole the week was tiring, discouraging but definitely an experience I wouldn’t have like to miss out on

Fashion Week

It’s 10:40 in the morning and I’m sitting in a nearly deserted hall waiting for the day of fittings and choreography to start. Last night the show’s organiser yelled at all the models that they had to be on time, otherwise there would be some major repercussions. On time was forty minutes ago. Apparently the majority of the models didn’t take the threat very seriously. With good reason too, I might add. The show’s organiser isn’t here yet either.

I have been steadily coming later to these things. The first day I was here before the official time. The next day I was exactly on time. Yesterday I was fifteen minutes late and today I only took the rickshaw when the allotted time had come. I don’t like being late, but I also hate being forced to wait around.

These shows are an interesting combination of dreary boredom and frenzied insanity. For most of the day we either sit around, waiting to get called upon or standing around in designer’s outfits hating the fact that the designers are showcasing autumn and winter collections when it isn’t really autumn or winter yet.

Then, because the scheduling always goes to hell in a hand basket, in the last two hours of the show they try to get four hours of work done. This is normally the time they choreography of the entire show is done, so we generally don’t really know what the hell we’re doing. I swear, the woman that does the choreography will have to take a month long holiday just to recover from herding around sixty models; who all either have no experience or egos big enough to give cover from the rain.

It’s amazing that the shows work as well as they do. In front there’s models walking down a long white ramp, looking beautiful and composed. Behind there is only screaming, confusion and chaos. ‘Where’s my shoes! Where’s whatshisface? Where’s my beer!’ (Drinking, by the way, is a normal part of the shows. No complaints here!)

My noteworthy walk so far was for Levis. They didn’t want to showcase the jeans like they usually do, so they dressed up all of the strange gear. They gave me jeans, a leather apron and two knives (no shirt) and said ‘look menacing’. So I did. I thought thoughts of murder and destruction and let them all show on my face as I walked down the ramp. The effect was, apparently, quite something according to all the compliments I got afterwards. I must have looked like an absolute psycho, with a cleaver in one hand, a sharpener in the other and murder in my eyes.

Anyways, things have finally got going so I’ll leave you with that and I’ll be sure to update you all soon.

Of lies and power

I was weak, I was soft and I capitulated without getting what I want. What’s more, I know the guy that I was dealing with me was lying to me on probably at least two counts. I really need to become less nice to people, though admittedly I didn’t really want to lose this deal. Through this I’ll hopefully get the necessary ‘cred’ to not have to capitulate in the future.

I’m still finding it very hard to deal with all the lying around here. I’m getting a bit better at spotting it, but being so bloody honest myself (often to a fault) I often just take other people’s words at face value. I guess that’s an important lesson for me to learn.

Almost everybody seems to lie. It’s an expected characteristic, I think. I wonder what they think of me always telling the truth? Maybe they think I’m an idiot. Yet I’m still of the opinion that honesty is the best policy. If people know they can trust what I say then they will be more likely to depend on me, rather than on somebody whom they can’t trust.

Being caught in one lie is enough to destroy your credibility. After that people will always wonder if you’re telling the truth, never really forgetting that you already lied at least once. So if you’re going to lie, lie so that nobody catches you! That’s a pretty pessimistic piece of advice, isn’t it?

‘The devil will tell a thousand truths to make you believe one lie’ (not sure where that’s from)

I’ve been learning a lot of pessimistic advice recently. I’ve read ‘The 48 laws of power’ and I don’t think you can find a more pessimistic book about utilising power as that one. It’s right up there with Machiavelli’s ‘The Prince’ (it actually often quotes it, as a matter of fact).

Still, I advise the book. It’s got a lot of good ideas, even if you chose not to utilise all of them. An interesting thing is, I initially rejected quite a few of them, but then later on realised that the writer was probably right and I was probably wrong.

So do I actually want power? I’m not sure, but I’d sure like to have the skill set available to take it if I find out I do.

The story continues

I haven't written in a long time, have I? Nothing really to report. The last week has been very busy, if not that useful. Went to a lot of parties and for some reason they all sucked. Probably to make up for last week, where we had a weekend of parties that were absolutely phenomenal.

I'm finally getting some writing work. I'm writing the newspaper stories for a local fashion event (I offered to help the organizer) and last night somebody asked me to quote him a price to write the content for his web page. For some reason, people over here seem to assume that I'm capable, purely because I'm social and self confident.

The same dude was even talking about if I stuck around that he'd like me to possibly help coordinate his models for his company. He doesn't have any yet, but he he thinks he can start a successful agency over here. I told him the offer was interesting, but that we should take everything one step at a time. First, let's see how the writing thing goes and after that we'll take a look at if we want to work together more in the future.

So far the dude hasn't impressed me much. He hasn't called back when he was supposed to and has generally been flighty. According to the word around town that's because he's really busy. That's an explanation, but far from an excuse in my book.

The IMFF (Indian Men's Fashion Festival) is starting in a few days time. I'm supposed to be walking it and it was supposed to be my great debut. There is now a question, however, about whether I'll be walking it at all. It's through my provocation and I don't regret the provoking, but it would pretty much be the end of my modelling career here in Bangalore. Oh well, so be it. I never saw it as much more than a bit of fun and a way to make money.

Maybe I'll just hit the road again if it doesn't work out. Continue on my journey and take all the experiences and lessons learned as my prize for the price I've paid (cash wise, experience wise my time here has been brilliant).

I'll get back up here soon and tell you all how this cross road in my life has resolved itself.

Expectations

I seem to have created a bit of a reputation. I’m the guy who’s come into town only a short while ago, but knows everybody, is always full of positive energy, drinks like a fish and dances like a madman. I’m the guy who you see at every happening party and who raises the energy level through his exuberance and attitude. I am the guy that everybody wants to be around.

Somehow my reputation has way outgrown the actual me. It’s a bit intimidating, actually. When I’m tired and not full of energy, people ask me what is wrong. When I bend down to tie my shoe laces the DJ tells me to get back up. When I go home early to get some sleep, people call me up to ask if I need to talk.

When I’m in a good mood, that’s brilliant; their very expectation creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. They expect me to have good energy, therefore walk up to me with good energy themselves, thereby infecting me with their energy in turn; which then helps to perpetuate the cycle. When I’m in my downtime, on the other hand, and just want to spend a bit of time by myself to philosophize and incorporate all the new things that I’ve learned into my psyche, it can become a drag to constantly have to sit with everybody, great everybody and meet everybody (especially since I don’t remember half of their names!).

I’m also just not used to this much attention. It’s a bit freaky, to go from having only a few real good friends in Singapore and almost nobody else, to having this huge social network that I somehow have to maintain.

I’m secretly expecting the entire thing to implode on me. When the novelty of the new kid in town wears off and people realise I’m not quite as amazing as they make me out to be, things will doubtlessly change.

Unless, of course, I actually am the person everybody makes me out to be. That is, however, a thought I don’t want to tackle just yet. I’d rather just live with the idea that it will end (and therefore enjoy it all the more) so that if it does I won’t be too scarred and if it doesn’t, well then I’ll recalibrate my thoughts at some future time, when I’m more certain of the course of my social life.

Applied Body Language

This weekend I experimented with body language. I’ve been studying it for a while now, but this weekend I really focused on reading other people’s body language and giving out the right body language myself. The effect, to put it mildly, has been tremendous. Being able to understand what somebody else is thinking before they say something, or what they really mean when they are saying it can have a huge effect on rapport building. What’s more, by consciously working on my own body language I not only influence other people’s reactions, but also my own mood.

So my piece of advice for today (I’ve got a lot of advice, I admit) is to pick up a body language book and try to internalise the information inside. It will honestly make a world off difference to you and people’s reactions to you.

That’s not terribly convincing in and of itself, so I think I’ll give you some examples to think about.

1) Last night we were standing in a club, when a young man walked over that none of us particularly liked. In one sentence, he tries to hard and in that way really gets on everybody’s nerves. We didn’t want him to be a part of our group, but we didn’t want to be rude and tell him to fuck off. So, instead, the guy and I who were talking closed off our communication circle (he’s studying body language too) and within five minutes he had taken the non-verbal cue and walked away to bother somebody else.

What do I mean with ‘closed off our communication circle’? Okay, normally when you’re talking to a person you stand at about a 45 degree angle to them. This is natural and creates a triangle, with two points taken and the third point free. Anybody that walks up to the triangle will naturally take the third point, thereby making a complete triangle. If the people are happy with that person there, they will continue to stand in the same way and the conversation continues.

If, on the other hand, they don’t want the person there they turn towards each other, facing each other full on. This is a much more intimate (or intimidating if the people don’t know each other very well) way of standing. It informs the third person, subconsciously, that he or she is not welcome and unless they are complete social morons, they will quickly pick up on that and bugger off. This actually works.

2) Your body language conveys your mood and how comfortable you are in a situation. How comfortable you are in a situation in turn influences how important people think you are in a room. Therefore, the more comfortable you appear in a situation, the more important people will think you are. Closed body language (folded arms, head tucked down, folded legs, etc.) makes you come across as defensive and uncomfortable. People will not approach you and will think you are of lower social standing. Open body language (open arms, legs apart, taking up extra space and head tilted straight or tilted back) conveys you are comfortable and as a result will make people think you are more confident, more approachable and of higher social status.

What is more, when you do this you actually end up feeling more comfortable! You will find yourself speaking more and being more accepting of other people’s moods and ideas. Your mind doesn’t just influence your body, but your body also influences your mind.

3) Where you sit at a table actually influences your status in the group your in. What is more, it will impact how you sit. Sitting with your back to a wall will make you more comfortable than sitting with your back to an open space. When you are more comfortable, you take on more comfortable body language. With your back to an open space, on the other hand, you will feel more defensive as you’re not sure what is approaching behind you. This will close you off, which again will impact how much you talk and how people see you. The best place to sit is at a table is at the head, with your back to the wall. The worst place is at a side with your back not only towards an open space but also an exit.

Next time you’re sitting at a table just watch who speaks most. Interestingly, you will find that those in the more comfortable positions will speak more and you can actually make a shy and quiet person become more talkative and (vica versa) a loud person quieter by putting them in these types of positions.

That’s just three little things that I haven’t only read about, but actually seen in action over the last few days. This stuff works. If you don’t believe me, try it. Then go out and buy yourself a body language book!

Black and White

There was a book that I saw in the book store the other day called ‘social vampires’. The cover said that it was concerned with those people in your life that drain you of positive energy. People that are like energy sinks, just bringing people down with their very presence and their attitude. I didn’t pick it up because I thought I didn’t have any such people around me. Last night I realised I was wrong.

There is this one person who is exactly that. You might know these these types of people; they are determined to pull everybody around them into the same quagmire of unhappiness and discontentment, because they are too stubborn and stuck in their ways to find their own way out. This is the type of person who will constantly tell you how to lead your life, when you know you’ve got things sorted out better in your own head than they do.

They are convinced they have the right answers when you can see that the answers they’ve got aren’t satisfying them or leading to any type of happiness or self-fulfilment. I think what I’ve noticed with these types of personalities (and I’ve met a few I now realise, thinking back) is that they don’t understand that there are actually other versions of reality that are just as right as their own. It’s their way or the highway.

Last night I chose the highway. Bugger buying that book. Why spend 5 US when there is a much simpler way to deal with these types of people? Avoid. ‘Give me maximum warp, Scotty, we need to outrun this monster!’ I’ve worked too long and too hard at improving my internal world to let some semi-stranger come along and try to disrupt it. I am not a councillor, I can’t prescribe medication and frankly I’ve got much more interesting and better people around me to devote my time and attention to.

So late last night I finally walked out, along with most of the rest of the group, and we instead went and had tea in the lobby of hotel. Sounds like a strange thing to do in the wee hours of the morning, but when choice is limited you’ve got to make do with what ever comes along. (Remember, the clubs and bars close here at 11:30)

It was amazing how the mood changed after that. We sat around and cracked jokes about everything and the kitchen sink (especially each other) and ended up spending numerous hours in hysterics. I’m sure the people in the hotel thought we were high on something, but if any of us were they didn’t have the decency to share it with me. There was tea of course, and cigarettes and down in the car a premixed bottle of vodka-coke that we frequently nipped out to sip, but for the rest it was just about timing, tone and delivery.

In the end we tried to slip off with a real feather boa that had been found on the premises. We tried distraction, bullying, bribing, begging; in short we tried everything but violence (and that’s just because they took away our cutlery). They wouldn’t let us take it, however. It was, apparently, property of the hotel. My bet was that it had been left there by some other guest and they’d just decided it looked good on one of the shelves. From forgotten and ownerless party wear it was somehow converted into hotel property just by the act of long-term association. Well, we’ll just have to be more sneaky next time.

I got in at 6:30 this morning, which I think is quite an achievement considering the clubs had closed seven hours earlier. All-in-all a good night with two important lessons that I kind of already knew, but it is always good to have reinforced: ‘Sometimes just walk away’ and ‘If they haven't told you you can't, don't ask them if you can’.

The Power of Interest

I don’t know when it happened, but I think one of the biggest changes that has happened inside me over the last few months has been that I’ve started to really like and become interested in people. I’m sure that this isn’t the only reason that I’ve had such a positive response off late (maybe I just fit better with the Indian people than with the South East Asians) but I believe that it has played a major role.

With every person I meet I try to show a genuine interest in them. This isn’t pretend, either, this is honest interest and overwhelmingly people have responded well to it. I think most people are too busy in their own heads to give their full attention to the people around them. Therefore, when somebody does do that people feel special. it’s a bit like shining a spotlight on them and giving them centre stage.

Of course, not everybody is interesting. I’ve met a great deal of people that I’ve come to realise I have nothing in common with and not surprisingly I do lose interest in them; but the key is that they have my interest from the start and it is theirs to lose.

For every single person in this world there is one thing that interests them above all others and that is themselves. A person can never get out of their own head. They are permanently in there and everything they do, see and feel is always in relation to their own experiences. When you take an interest in them you focus on what they think about and care about the most. Naturally, they are going to appreciate that.

Can this type of interest be faked? It probably can be, but I think you’ll find that as you try to fake it you end up actually feeling it. When you properly manage to connect with another person (or establish rapport with them, as it’s called in the official jargon) you can’t help but enjoy it and when somebody truly enjoys the company of another person, that second person feels complemented on a subconscious level. It starts a positive feedback loop that ends up really enhancing both people’s day (if not lives).

I find that my life has been greatly enhanced by the huge number of people I call friends over here. Just their company would be enough, but that is far from all they give. They help me when ever they can, they bring me to places and let me experience things that otherwise I wouldn’t have experienced and they introduce me to ever more people with whom I can then start the whole process again.

That’s the great thing about being likeable; people actually want to introduce you to their friends as your friendship reflects well on them. Therefore I suggest that if you want to meet more people you try to take a real and active interest in the people you already meet. In that way you’ll soon find your social circle expanding and your social interactions being fuller and more enjoyable than they ever were before.

Chugging along

I would like to say that Cochin was great, but I have no idea. I was basically only in the hotel, the pub or being driven between the two. I did have a blast, though. The show was fun (nice people) and the party after was even better. I think the free piss might have had something to do with that, of course.

I met a ton of people and yet again they were positive, receptive and generally friendly. One guy was even talking about bringing me back down for a photo shoot. We’ll see if that one pans out as well.

The trip down was a little odd, as we had a mother of one of the many girls with us and she was one of those people who unfortunately wants to teach everybody how to live their lives. I think it’s rather interesting that a person who’s never been on one of these trips before thinks they have a better idea of how things should be done than the other dozen people who all have been in the industry for the longest time.

Back, on the other hand, was great. We were eight of us (me and seven girls) which, as you might be able to guess, was highly enjoyable at least for me. My room (which I had shared with one of the stylists) had been used both as a place for make up and a place for pre-drinks (as in the drinks that are consumed before the show. A brilliant idea that certainly makes you think the show went a lot more smoothly than if you hadn’t drunk). The result was that there was still a whole bottle of vodka that hadn’t been drunk. Wasting is, of course, a sin; so I felt it was my Atheist duty to finish the bottle.

12 hours go a great deal quicker when you’re surrounded by beautiful women and have vodka in your belly (making the women all the more beautiful). I don’t think I stepped on too many toes, except possibly for the other people staying in the carriage who were trying to sleep.

So yes, everything is still a sweet dream. We’ll see how long it lasts, but I’m going to enjoy it while it does.

Unique

Two nights ago was unique. I’ve met this guy down here, who’s wild, crazy and a little bit insane; a great deal of fun, in other words. We were sitting around in the local coffee joint with yet another friend (a woman from Italy who works in the IT industry, though you wouldn’t guess that until she told you) and it was a dry day. In most countries that means no rain, but over here that means no booze - a very difficult situation to be in for at least two of us.

Suddenly the bloke had the good idea of going up to these hills (I can’t remember the name). ‘It feels,’ he said, ‘like you’re at the edge of the world.’ Now, that was something we had never felt before, so we readily agreed. We didn’t know, at that point, what we were agreeing too. We walked to the car to pick up supplies (warm clothing, smokes, chocolates, etc.) and found that the lights had been left on.

That, of course, meant that the battery was flat (it always does. You’d think they would have made batteries that could last a while longer with the lights on) and that, in turn, meant we had to push. Finally all the working out in the gym was good for something! It took two tries (the first time he let the engine stall, which was quite naturally met with cries of great enthusiasm) but then we were off.

We passed the guy’s house, but he’d left his keys at his friend’s place, so we were forced to just admire it from outside, without picking anything up from there. That wasn’t such a great thing, because the hills were supposedly cold, but we were still full of good spirit, so we just headed on.

We drove down to the country, visited a banyan tree that you could park inside, tried to have a cigarette there but were thwarted in that attempt as we had no fire. No matter, on we went.

Then we ran out of gas.

I was quite impressed with how well everybody took it. We all just looked at each other (a little bit more at the guy that was driving) and then got out and made our way to the gas station. We filled a sprite bottle with gas, made our way back and continued on our way.

It was an hour long drive, in which we chatted, smoked and braked suddenly for speed bumps that would loom up out of the darkness (the highways over here have speed bumps. No, I’m not quite sure what to think of that either.)

We made some detours, on purpose, and then the Italian lady had a paranoia attack. Not a pretty thing to have happen to you when you’re speeding through the darkness with two guys you barely know in a country you know even less well and after having smoked a nearly pure joint of the strongest stuff. Actually, now that I come to think of it, those things might have had something to do with it.

Some gentle words and slow driving later and she got over it. At which point a cat jumped onto the road in a desperate attempt to commit suicide. Or maybe it just didn’t understand the laws of physics about force, reactions and all that kind of stuff. We hit it and went back to check where it was. It wasn’t there anymore. Fortunately its attempt had failed and it had scampered, or possibly hobbled, off into the darkness.

The mood was still surprisingly good and we soon made it to the top of the hill. It was about 2 am at this time and the hills were completely covered with the thickets of mist. You really couldn’t see past three meters.

For a time we just sat, talked and smoked. Then others arrived (whom we initially didn’t know) and soon what had just been three people talking turned into nearly ten people jamming to music, quibbling with each other and generally having a blast. I’m ashamed to say that the three of us drank easily as much as the rest of the people combined, but we did have a reputation to uphold (or create).

Then dawn came and we were allowed into the park. There we reached the edge of the world. It was, in true Indian style, a cliff which was hard to see in the mist, with no guard rails. It was called ‘the suicide point’ and I thought it was very nice of the authorities that they had not tried to hold back those people that might want to do that name justice.

It was an amazing view. The mist was thick as soup and ended just beyond the edge of the cliff. The sounds were muffled and the wind whipped and chased around us, pushing the fog this way and that. On a high from the drugs, drink, company and altitude we each sang a song on our own, into the mist from the bottom of our souls. It was simply amazing.

Coffee in a little tea house, accompanied by omelettes and bread. Then back into the car to bead back to Bangalore. Both of them were supposed to show up for work that day. Neither of them made it. We actually only got back in at 11 am. By that time I had well and properly passed out in the back seat.

I was told that after he had dropped us off he had discovered that the wobbling that had started on the way back turned out to be a flat tire.

Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong; but it just made the trip that much more brilliant. Hardship on the journey makes the it all that much more special.

The Moment

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but this weekend I get to travel to Kochin in Kerala for free, stay in hotel there for free and get to party for free after I do a fashion show for which I’ll get paid. Pretty sweet deal, huh? It will be my third show in India (I did another one yesterday, which wasn’t that much fun, but alright.) That number will soon explode upwards, as I’ve got a fashion week to walk and so far it seems like people’s response to me has been pretty good, as I’m supposed to walk quite a few shows.

I’m still waiting for my first shoot, though. That’s where the real money and fun are at. And then I can finally show (some of) you some pictures!

I’m still having a great time. Except for a couple of hours in the gym every day (well except for yesterday, because of the show and today because it being a public holiday) and the occasional show, I really don’t have to do terribly much. Somehow, though, I still manage to fill up every minute of every day without getting bored.

I think it’s the huge number of people I’ve met and that want to hang out with me. I’m still mystified about what has changed so drastically to make so many people react so positively to me.

I was invited to dinner at the house of one of the head chefs of one of the big hotel chains here in Bangalore and he told me ‘every one of my friends likes you, every one.’ He likes me too (slightly too much, I’m afraid). Don’t worry, there were other people at the dinner as well.

Another guy from Dubai who’s a stylist there has said that I should come up there and even offered to get me a ticket at some point, so that I could work down there (though admittedly he wasn’t exactly sober at the time, so I don’t know if he’ll either remember or act on that memory).

What ever the reason for it though, I seem to be meeting a ton of people and they all seem to want to meet me again. Tonight I’m meeting a gentleman who throws the parties in the clubs three to four times a week (and now greets me very warmly and always waves me right in, past the ques and – more importantly – the cashier’s counter). He might be able to give me some writing work down here as well. That would be excellent, as then I’d be doing yet another thing I love.

Life is good. I hope I manage to keep it that way.

Open invitation

I’ve been reading this book about body language called, surprisingly enough, ‘Body Language’ by Allan and Barbara Pease. I’ve read it once before, but decided to read it again as I didn’t get as much out of it as I could have got the first time. Now I found this one trick in the book that I decided to try out the other night and the response was amazing.

But before I tell you about the trick, some background information about my self. I’m not sure why but apparently I’m a very unapproachable person. People I don’t know almost never just walk up to me to start a conversation (neither guys nor girls). I’ve never been able to figure out why. I’ve tried opening up my body language, smiling and a whole host of other things, but it never generated any approaches (though it did cause quite a few people to look over in interest).

It can’t be because I’m ‘too good looking’ or anything like that, because I have this mate here in Bangalore who also models is at least as good looking as my self and constantly gets approached by both women and men (including me on the very first day I came out here).

I had accepted that there was something about me that just didn’t make me seem approachable. That is, until last night. Last night I tried something (only once, admittedly) and the response was tremendous. The girl I did it to (I’m generally far more interested in attracting women to come talk to me than men. I realise that is sexist, but then anybody that prefers one sex over the other can be labelled as sexist, in that case!) smiled immensely broadly and actually waved. She even almost walked over, but then checked herself as she became uncertain (I could see the uncertainty suddenly cloud her face) and she walked by. I could have stopped her right there and then, if I’d wanted to, but I was still too amazed by the reaction that a simple gesture had provoked.

I can hear you thinking, even now, ‘okay, you jerk, great story, but what was the gesture?’ Ah hah! I’m not going to tell you. No wait, yes I am. The gesture was what is called an ‘eyebrow flash’. That does not mean you burn off your eyebrows, put lights in them or anything like that (though I’m sure people would talk to you if you put lights in your eyebrows). It just means that you quickly raise and lower your eyebrows.

The reason this is effective is that this is something that we do to people we know and want to talk to. It’s a subconscious signal that tells the other person we recognise them and are willing to talk. Doing it consciously towards a person is basically inviting them in for a conversation. They can approach without fear of rejection.

‘Yeah right’ many of you now think, ‘so how come I never noticed it?’ That’s because it is subconscious, just like a ton of others signals. But I have a much better idea than trying to convince you. I’m going to tell you to try it. If it doesn’t work, well then you’ve really not made a fool of yourself (unless, of course, you think raising and lowering your eyebrows makes you look foolish) and if it does work, well imagine the possibilities!

And it works. That’s the great thing. You might not get everybody to approach, but you’ll certainly get a lot of smiles and positive reactions. In fact, I’m not sure why I’m sitting here typing this. I’m going to go out on the street and try it. And yes, I will also ‘eyebrow flash’ a few men as well, for equality’s sake.

Apartment

I now have an apartment in Bangalore. Well, almost. I’ll have it tomorrow, which is a bit tight because I’m being forced out of my hotel tomorrow morning (and they still have to paint the apartment tomorrow as well, bugger). Still, everything is working out well and it looks like I’ll be here for a while longer.

So all of yous can come and visit! I’m not sure we’ll be able to fit all of you in my one room apartment, but half the fun of India is trying new things, right?

The room has no furniture, only one window and an Indian toilet. Washing will have to be done by bucket (you take water from the bucket, dump it over your head and then repeat) what’s more there is a construction site on one side and a graveyard on the other. It is also on the third floor and has no elevator. That’s all not much of a problem though, because it’s really central (10 minutes walk from my gym) and it has a really nice roof terrace, which I imagine I’ll be sitting on a lot.

It also only costs me about 160 Singapore Dollars a month. That’s a pretty sweet deal, right?

My muscles are finally starting to get used to taking a beating every day and slowly I’m starting to notice the effect. If things go well I’ll actually have a six pack by the sixth. That’s important, because I’m travelling half way across the country for a show then and need to be in good shape. It will also be the first time in my life that I’ll have a full on six pack. It’s about bloody time.

I hope all of you are good and really appreciate the comment that you’ve sent my way. I know I’m not very responsive but I promise I read and think about each of them. Be good, wherever you are.

Alpha

I never used to be the alpha, but of late I am. I notice it in the way that people interact with me, behave towards me and want to be around me. After many months of study, practice and experimentation I am now frequently the leader of the groups I am in. People expect me to make the decision, look to me for acceptance and want me to set the mood.

Some people are naturally alpha. I am not. Everything I am today has been learned from literature, observation and my own thought process. When I was younger I was a social outcast. I had very few friends, was considered weird by most people and generally didn’t have much of a social life. I was introverted, felt uncomfortable talking and was generally shunned by people that cared about their social image.

Here I’d like to talk about what I did to change from somebody at the bottom of the pack to somebody at the top. Most of this stuff has already been mentioned in numerous books, essays and forums. I realise that quite a lot of this will sound repetitive. Still, I include it here because I want to include the whole package, not just those bits that are new (if there are any).

First I’d like to start by talking about the inner alpha, as I think that it is better to start fixing your inner game, before you start fixing your outer game. For one thing, when you’ve got the right frame the rest will all happen quite naturally. Though there might still be quirks that need to be ironed out, it will all flow much more naturally if you’ve go the right mindset. There is a lot of stuff to being an alpha, so I’ll only include some of it in this post. So here are the first four, in no particular order (they’ve been written as they came to my mind):

Alphas expect to be obeyed.

Alphas do not use words like ‘could’ ‘would’ or ‘might’, they tell other people what they want them to do, because they expect other people to do them. So you don’t say ‘could you pass me the butter’ but you say ‘pass me the butter’. You can include please, if you like. Being alpha does not mean being nasty and impolite.

Alphas also make decision for the group and expect others to follow their decisions. This does not mean they walk all over other people’s opinions. Quite to the contrary, they might well wait with making their decision until they’ve heard what everybody else suggests and then go with the suggestion that they think will be best. If, however, nobody knows what to do then the alpha will decide a course of action.

This might sound rude to you, but that’s because society’s ideals are not actually in line with our natural state of mind. We are led to believe in democracy, freedom and free will, but in small group dynamics people give up some of their freedoms in order for group cohesion and enjoyment. People don’t mind if others make the decisions, as long as those decisions bring them something. One thing a leader’s decision brings the rest of the group is a more dynamic time (as they don’t end up arguing endlessly about what’s going to happen next) as well as freedom from responsibility. They don’t have to stick their necks out, as the alpha is doing that for them.

Alphas do not mind if others take the spot light.

Sometimes people want to be alphas and they constantly hog all the attention and the spot light. This is because they are insecure in their alpha status. They are not true alphas, as a true alpha doesn’t mind somebody else taking over for a while, as they still know that they are the leaders. In fact, the alpha of the group need not necessarily be the most talkative person in the group. Some alphas are very quiet, but they dominate by force of will and personality.

An alpha that is insecure in his alpha status will soon be out alphad and might not even be aware of it. What is more, they will quickly get annoying to the other people in the group. A lot of people like to talk and if they don’t get the chance, they will resent the person who is hogging too much of the attention. A true alpha is like a chairman, deciding who should speak by focusing their attention on them (at which point others will follow their lead).

Alphas do not try to be alphas.

An alpha is an alpha. They do not have to try to be an alpha. Anybody that tries to be an alpha is, by definition, not the alpha. In fact, people that try very hard are often resigned to the bottom of the pack. Alphas do not try, they are.

So what does that mean? It means that you tell stories, do tricks and generally behave the way you do because that’s what you enjoy and because you do it well, other people enjoy it too. You talk about things that interest you or talk about things that interest other people because you’re interested in them. You don’t do it because the person will like you more if you do that. You don’t need to be liked, you already are.

If you do things for your own enjoyment people will catch your mood and believe you to be more genuine (which is true). They will enjoy being around you because you give them energy by being full of energy.

Alphas do not seek approval, they give approval.

Alphas rarely ask such questions as ‘Do you like it if I do [blah]’ or ‘do you mind if I do [blah]’. This is because that is a form of approval seeking. The alpha knows not only that he is already approved, but that he must be the one to approve of others. Other people will frequently ask them for their advice and ask them about what they should, or shouldn’t do.

This does not mean the alpha doesn’t care about what other people think. Of course they do, because otherwise they would soon lose their alpha status. They just watch for how others approve through more subtle cues. They read body language and listen to what others say without the alpha prodding. What somebody says in approval about you without you asking is far more valuable than when you try to force them to give you complements. The first types of complements are much more likely to be genuine than the second.

Alphas also give approval to others and, because they are leaders of the group, this approval is very much appreciated. When the alpha of the group gives a complement, this can make another person’s day. Note, however, that this power is lost if you give too many complements. Complements should be used sparingly and truly meant when they are given. That way they hold more value for everybody involved.

More is to follow, please give comments on what I’ve written so far. These are my observations, so they might not all be correct so I expect you to criticise, correct and counter. To be continued…