Pursuing a career, how to choose your beasts

One of the most common things to ponder about is whether or not you have chosen the correct career. As mentioned in "Battling the Beast", there are some things that do not go according to plan. I've had a fair share of dangling carrots - and I have made a fair share of suggestions on where the carrot should actually go. So lately I have been pondering my choice of beast battling. I am highly skilled in battling the beast, and sometimes I even follow Mr. Miyagi's advice in that the best way to win is to not fight!

So to determine if I made the correct choice, I decided to take an approach usually followed by those clever scientists. As I explained to my honeybun, sometimes the best way to proof something is to proof the contrary.

Let me explain the reason why I am not a sport star. As a young lad our schooling system placed a lot of emphasis on sport. Especially a little game called Rugby. Now the school I attended thought that this is the most important thing in the world, and we HAD to do this sport. So I had a choice: participate or be victimized. I made the wrong decision.

So being this super fit being with the ultimate physique, I was selected for the last team. The team made up of all the people they can gather on a Friday afternoon to play a match the weekend. And being so well build for speed, I was in the perfect shape to play what they call a prop. If you ever watch a game of rugby, notice the guy with the 1 on his back. The biggest guy on the field doing the dirty work. My natural position, one I played with great success for years.

Our coach had the day-time job of history teacher. It became clear why he did not teach mathematics, as for this one match we ended up with 3 props. If you know rugby, you might make the link that there can only be 2 in a team. And then he showed is brilliance. I was struck with awe as he said to me: "Since the team is not that strong, you must play on the wing - the ball will never reach you". Amazement. Now imagine this, the biggest, slowest and strongest (supposedly) guy on the field, playing the position created for the fasted, leanest, most swift-footed person you can find.

So there I was drifting at the edges of the action. I had a lovely day and enjoyed watching the game I was actually playing. And then I was my time! My time to shine! We attacked the goal line and the ball was coming down the back line. I knew that it was glory time! There was an open line, and about 10 meters to go. I was open, no more defenders; I had to trot over the goal line for victory! Then the ball was passed to me. This was it! "WHOOP!". My studs and my boot laces got entangled. Somehow your legs do not work that well if they are tied together at the feet. It was a nice cloud of dust. I rolled, people laughed and I ended up 2 meters from the foal line, flat on my face. Tied up by the feet, like when a cowboy rope cattle. And after all this humiliation, the referee blew a penalty against me for diving onto the ball.

I realized there and then, my contribution to the world would be mentally and hence the desk job!

Courage to collaborate

My honeybun is doing a company project on values. I am the guinea pig, and the Power Point consultant. So while battling to balance eggs on salt, Googling for quotes to add to the presentations and whatever is required of a guinea pig, I couldn’t help to ponder my own frustrations with my multi-cultural multi-national back-stabbing team.

Needless to say I suffer from endless pain on a daily basis, trying to manage those party crazy Brazilians, my slow paced laid back African amigos and then the too close for comfort Snake Oil Salesman and his posse. Everyone is delaying, complaining and waiting for the other one to slip up so that we can have a sacrifice! Knives all out waiting! It made me realize just how true the quote I found on the internet is: “Teamwork is essential. It allows you to blame someone else.”

So I tried to think of a time in my life where I experienced efficient teamwork. It brought me to a wild weekend of river rafting!

My friend SeaBass told us about his buddies that have this company that takes you on a river rafting trip. What a great idea! River rafting! Nice slow river flow with a couple of beers floating behind you. I could hear the laughter in my head. So the usual gang decided to take him up on this truly amazing experience!

So we headed out with as much beer as we could carry in 3 cars. The captain and his wife went in his truck. Survivor, Pedro Perez, Dangerous Dave and I drove in my car and SeaBass and Action Man E in the Bass Mobile.

We arrived at the venue the Friday night, some more jolly than the others. We were expecting the party to really start. Instead, the fear started.

Our hosts whipped out cloves and Latex, and although it might sound like fun to some of you, it really isn’t what you think. Basically you have to wear the gloves to protect your hands from thorns the size of nine inch nails. Now I really didn’t think about it at the time, but later I asked myself how the hell do get thorns on a river? Then we were given wetsuits. Problem: being a bit larger that life, The Captain and I couldn’t find wetsuits that fit; at least not without looking like a sausage. So we had to go commando on the river and we were still waiting for spring to arrive, do you see where I’m going with this?

The next morning started with a “safety meeting”. Now remember I still had this little booze-cruise-floating-down-the-river picture in my head. Then it hit the fan.

“Rule number 1: No beer on the river” (this while a couple of us were already sipping a cold one). I could feel my joy draining from inside. Then I had to listen to this little fairy tail about if I get suck under a tree log I can hold my head in a certain position and the current will form this bubble that will have enough oxygen for 30 minutes. And I really do not need to panic, as they will safe me. I also discovered later that the medic we had, well, I think the closest he got to medicine was mouthwash!

From thereon the day was full of little surprises. There were no rafts. That would have been too easy; instead we had to face those bad babies on truck tubes! And apparently we were in luck, as they had rain and the river was really strong! In fact, when we got there it was one continuous white water rapid, mountain to ocean!

We also discovered that they did not have the means to transport all those already inflated tubes. So they got stacked on The Captain’s truck. And another little jewel: they didn’t have ropes so someone had to stand in the centre of this tube stack! Brilliant! When we reached cruising speed our little brave team member was starting to lift off in his tube tunnel! It looked like we were going to fly a blimp!

After quite an ordeal we managed to make our way down to the river. We had to navigate some really tricky territory through the bushes and trees, but we ended up close enough to hear the river – al we had to do was to carry our tubes to the river. I can assure you, it is quite a sight to see guys in wetsuits doing walking through the jungle with a truck tube on one shoulder and a white helmet on the head. Like police divers!

So we got to the first rapid, we made turns jumping on our tubes, bouncing off and going solo down the rapid trying to catch the tire. Not really a successful first attempt. After the first rapid The Captain and I started to compare our pink legs. Luckily we had some chocolates to fire up the metabolism! Another little known fact from our guides.

We managed to get to this little rapid that had a waterfall at the end. I guess it was about a 10 meter drop, but the problem wasn’t so much the height as the stack of rocks and broken trees reaching up towards the sky like spears. But we were in safe hands, as the fearless leader decided that they will put a rope over the river, just before the waterfall. This will be our safety catch. As you come rushing down the rapid, you grab onto this rope and to safe yourself from broken bones and impalement. And this is where I turned chicken, besides – I now had the chance to sit on the warm rocks to defrost my legs.

Fortunately the crew had too much difficulty in getting the rope across the river and they decided it might be too dangerous. So we moved on. Don’t get me wrong, it was great fun getting bruised by rocks. And it is fun coming down a rapid and not knowing how high the next drop would be.

It all came to an end when we went over a little waterfall, about 4 meters high that pulled me under. I decided that it was the end form me, 7 hours of freezing and a busted knee agreed. Survivor also managed to knock a gap in his leg, which was later repaired with an old stitching kit, whiskey and a dining table. And 2 days later by a doctor after the wound started to ooze yellow stuff.

And this is where the team pulled together. We hiked up a mountain, got to the top and discovered there was no pick-up. One of the guides hiked back to town to fetch the cars. After about 2 hours the trucks arrived, and that is where the team showed great commitment towards each other – we all jumped onto The Captain’s truck and drove off, leaving the tubes, the guides and the pain we endured behind.

What I’m really glad about though, is that we haven’t met the 9-inch thorns!