Beautiful, Relevant, Violent. Peaceful?

Posted on February 14, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

A handful of mixed feelings while visiting Carcassonne fortress. It is beautiful. It is amazing. It was and it *is* relevant. And… violent. The history of Carcassonne is a history of power, fight, violence. It is also a history of bravery, nobleness, hard work and art. And beauty. And it all goes together.

Does it mean no violence no beauty? Does it mean if you are peaceful you can never be relevant?

Everything that is beautiful and amazing is also intense and painful. Passion and art are tied to violence and friction. Right now that I think of it, nothing that is peaceful ever made it to our days.

Religion is full of violence, art is intense, beauty is painful. Whatever amazing survived to our days made it through fight and struggle. And we admire the fruits of it now. Even when we question the value of it, we still admire the effort.

Business is the same. Great companies that made it to our days, companies which products we use daily are full of modern violence and friction. Nothing relevant comes with the word peaceful (unfortunately). We long for peace, but admire the beauty.

I question the value of such beauty. It is a curious mix of sorrow and admiration that I felt while walking along the Carcassonne walls. However, I can’t go against my nature. I feel deep thankfulness to those people who built these walls, who defended them, who fought, survived and died for them. In my heart I appreciate their effort. In my work, in fighting for my vision I am honoring their passion.

Do not be peaceful, please. Life is intense. Beauty is relevant. Fight for what you are passionate about. Build it, defend it, live for it.

Carcassonne, February 14th 2013

Absolutely Biased about France

Posted on February 13, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

I am biased about France. I like it. I liked it as a kid, reading the Dumas books and imagining how the meat pie and the Burgundy wine would taste; I liked it as a teenager listening to Joe Dassin songs and having lived in France for a year; I like it as an adult so much, that I enrolled my both kids into the Lycee Francaise school system and help them learn French. Yes, I read them books in my broken French and ask my daughter to correct my pronunciation. It is a great experience of learning from my own child.

And here we go. Driving through région Languedoc-Roussillon towards Toulouse and stopping in the small villages on our way.

Toulouse is very nice and full of houses made of red bricks. Close to the basilique Saint-Sernin there are lots of book stores. Another thing that I am not impartial about, apart from France, is books. And, books in French obviously win the lot. There is nothing better than holding the books in the language you love. And, hey, I can understand almost everything. And pronunciation… well, I try!

If you visit Toulouse, here is a thing about it: they close kitchen really early. You can’t get a warm meal after 3 pm and dinner ends towards 8. Very much like US, I guess, but opposite of Spain.

However there are plenty of Tea Houses that are charming (and warm). It is February and it is cold in France in February, thus finding a warm place for coffee counts! The cakes are home made, the staff is friendly and the view, well…. we are in Toulouse!

Toulouse is welcoming. We walked quite a bit through the city, and its central part is full of cafes, book stores and souvenir shops that sell everything related to violets. The violet soap, the violet marmalade, the violet candies, the violet oils, the violet liquors… well you get the idea.

I do not think there is much I can add about Toulouse. But here are some random moments of the day that I liked:

1. The menus written in French

2. The signes on the streets (in French too!)

3. The basilique Saint-Sernin inside

4. The red brick buildings with blue shatters

5. And most of all I like the fact that everybody is speaking French (and everything is in French!). Well, I started this post with the statement that I am biased about France, so there you go.

Toulouse, February 13th 2013

Calçots & Getting your Hands Dirty

Posted on February 10, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

One of the things I missed living out of Spain is Calçots. Calçots are a variety of onions grown inland in Catalonia. It is a seasonal food and you normally see them in February and sometimes in March. You can find them in the masias outside of Barcelona and in the surrounding villages. We drove to Montserrat yesterday to see the monastery and the famous black virgin.

It is cold in February in the mountains. The air is fresh and the view is beautiful. After an hour walk you really want to get into the warmness of an old masia and get your hands dirty with the food. In our case, we drove to Collbató, which is located right at the foot of the mountain.

Catalan lunch starts with bread and tomato. Do it yourself kind of thing. On the table you find olive oil, toasted bread (they call them here llescas), garlic, tomato, and salt. My three year old shows us how to rub the tomato and olive oil into the bread. They do it at his daycare and teach the kids how to prepare this starter.

And this is how the finished bread & tomato look like. You also put salt and olive oil on it. Rubbing garlic is optional.

After you are done with your bread and tomato, the waiters bring the calcots. This is where you really get your hands dirty. You have to take out the burnt shell of the onion and dip the tender part in the sauce. It is called the Romesco sauce and it is made of roasted red peppers, tomatoes, almonds, olive oil, and garlic.

After you have peeled and eaten some of them, your hands get really dirty and smell of burnt onions. Your wine glass also gets stained and smells alike. And you like it. You actually enjoy of how your hands smell.

You keep eating till the table around you looks like a complete mess. And then you really know that you are loving the food, the wine, and the company. The sauce is the best part of the dish.

And after you are done, this is how the battle field looks:

The problem is that after you are done with the calçots the waiters bring the meat. And even though the meat looks very good, you know you can’t eat another bite. You are full. Then the desert and coffee are served. And the restaurant invites all of you for a drink. When you finally get out of the dining room it is almost 6pm. You feel like you will not be able to eat for a week.

Calçots are the best food ever in February in Catalonia! There is nothing like getting your hands dirty with this rustic meal! I missed it so much while living in USA.

Barcelona, February 10th 2013

The Privilege of a Fish

Posted on February 8, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

The privilege to write about anything. Absolutely anything. It is a privilege of a fish.

You wake up in the morning. You go down the stairs and once on the street you realize that you are a fish. There is nothing weird about it. You feel the movement of the water around your body and its pressure. And your body moves very slowly, following the water. And the street noises and the voices are not there any more. Your ears hear some inner sounds and light taps of the water against your face. You do not move forward fast, you mostly move down. A little bit in diagonal. Your body is still prone to gravity that your mind has not entirely forgotten. You assume that everybody had became a fish and you expect to see other fishes soon. But you do not. You are alone. You do not try to talk, instead you use all your strength to sustain the pressure of the water on your body. There is no pain, just the heaviness of each molecule that surrounds you. This heaviness in glued to your skin now.

You intend to breath, but your lungs do not need air. You waste the intent. You release the weight that your body still holds. Then you reach the bottom. You have no feet to walk or push yourself up towards the surface. You are a fish, but you keep forgetting it. Your mind still wonders why did you ever tried to reach the bottom and looks for the reasons, but your body is already taking you up. You need to find this space in the water where the pressure is equal from all the sides. Then you can surrender. Water becomes part of you and you obey it. You can close your eyes and rest. As a fish you do not have any dreams. You just feel that every part of your body is part of the water too. You are part of it all and you move with it. Slowly, precisely; Sliding among the noises of the dreams.

Barcelona, February 8th 2013

The No End Game

Posted on February 5, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

Get into a game that has no end. If there is an end you will be interested in the final result no matter what. If there is no end, you will be interested in the process. Do not aim to win, aim to stay in the game as long as you can. Aim to learn while you are on the playing field. Aim to play among the best players.

You do the first step. There is nobody around. Nobody invited you to play. Nobody invited you to come. But there is also nobody who can tell you that you should go away. There is nobody to tell you that you can’t play. Thus, you can stay on the field and advance. You are the one to authorize yourself. And surprisingly it works! It also feels lonely. It does. You look around to catch a glimpse of somebody you know, to spot a smile you recognize. To smile back at a friendly face. And you realize that you are completely alone. There are only followers. And you have to act like you have been here hundred of times before, and convince others that you know what you are doing and where you are going. And they will follow you. That simple. Well, you know the game a little bit in fact. You know you are here to play, not to win. Thus, you do not compete. This does not mean you can relax, slow down and prattle. People who follow you rarely become your friends. You can never turn to them and ask casually “What do you think, should we do this next move or not?”. They expect you to know it all, and this is why they are following you. The moment you show a sign of doubt you lose your way.

You have to be convinced of what you are doing. And you have to sound convincing. You have to be honest and integer too. You have to play clean, to trust and to inspire trust in the people around you. You can’t be false even a bit. If the game gets dirty, if it feels like you are becoming a salesman, you should be able to stand up tall and walk away saying out loud “This is not how I want to play.” And know that there is no return and be done with it. And you are supposed not to regret your actions. And there is not one face on the field who will let you be vulnerable.

It is an exciting game. It is the game you will embrace. It has the value of the patience and the persistence. It holds the passion and the commitment. It is worth the effort. It is worth it all to keep walking across the never ending field, to keep playing the no end game. It is damn lonely too. Have you ever walked on the sand dunes in the dimness of the night? You walk alone, you hear a light noise, you imagine right away that somebody else is walking close by. You can almost see his face. You smile back. You look around. No one. You look around only to realize that the wind and the sand had made the noise that made your heart jump and faint. And then you feel hundred times more lonely than ever before.

You just have to continue walking. Alone. That’s the game. And when the pain of loneliness becomes silence, you will enjoy its verse. And the break of the day will find you walking.

Barcelona, February 5th 2013

What’s Wrong with the Women Business Events

Posted on February 2, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

Lately I have attended quite a few startup, business and entrepreneurial events in the Barcelona area. And I am learning to avoid the ones that have the word “women” in their headline. I am not saying it proudly. Really, I do not.

However, all the events that carry the word “women” in their title, for example “Women in Business” or “Women and Entrepreneurship”, tend to be mostly about women and not about business and entrepreneurship. During a two-hour presentation you do not hear anything informative, interesting or challenging. There are no references to business growth, to metrics used, no hints how to raise capital or manage human resources. You do not get an insight into the industry they are working in or in how they reach out to their customers. All you get to hear is how those women overcame the guilty feeling of leaving their kids at home or how they had to prove themselves in front of their family and friends for starting a business. It looks more like a celebration of the fact that they are not staying at home with their kids and actually doing something, independently on how good or relevant their work is. I tried to imagine a man CEO doing a presentation like that. And I could not. Really, can you see any man on the stage starting a business presentation talking about his childhood years and then going on how he got married and how his married life was affected by the fact that he also run a business. And how he felt about it.

Until this changes. Until this changes drastically, women will not be in businesses on the same level as men are. I would like to go to presentations where women and men talk about their yardstick as the founders, about how they created their company culture, what metric they focus on the most. I would like to see numbers. Yes, numbers, not dry and boring numbers, as women sometimes call them, but exciting numbers; Because while business is not just about numbers, but without them it would never survive and grow. I want to see numbers that would let me understand the growth of the company in a certain timespan and how different product introductions or marketing tactics affected this growth. Through those numbers and the founder’s vision I would like to be able to picture the future of that industry. This would make an amazing presentation!

At last, I would be grateful if on business meetings and related events people would stop asking me how I manage to take care of our two small kids and run a business. If I would be a man, you would never ask me this question, right? My husband never faces this one. Neither should I. I’d rather talk about business. And I promise it will be exciting, challenging and relevant.

Barcelona, February 2nd 2013

Princesses and Cavaliers

Posted on January 31, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

Kids were running around on the Bonanova plaza. “I am a princess, I am a princess,” shouted the girls. “Monster, monster,” cried my almost three-year-old son, and with his imaginary sword started to fight an imaginary monster. “I am a princess, and the cavalier is defending me,” said one of the girls. “You can’t be a princess, because I am a princess,” said the other girl. “No, no, I am a princess,” said the third one. “Then I will be a queen, and you will be the two princesses.” After a three minute argument it was decided that one of the girls would be a pink-dressed princess and another one would be a purple-dressed princess. “What are you going to be,” they asked my daughter. “I will be a horse,” and my daughter started to trot like a horse around the plaza not paying any attention to the princesses. “If my brother is a cavalier, then I will be his horse. A cavalier needs a horse. Can I be your horse?” she asked her brother. The little cavalier nodded without stopping his imaginary fight with the monster and told his sister that her name will be Titan. Titan is my son’s favorite pony, sometimes we take him back-riding in a local pony club and he always wants to ride Titan.

There we were, a group of parents watching our kids play on a sunny afternoon after school. My three-year-old imagining himself to be a cavalier and fighting imaginary monsters. My five-year-old trotting around the plaza like a horse and making all the adequate noises. She was totally absorbed by her horse character. And her five-year-old friends were grouped in the middle of the plaza discussing what kind of princesses they would be.

I am wondering if all the girls naturally want to be princesses or is it something that the society heavily pushes on them and their parents support? I honestly do not think that eighty percent of the girls prefer pink and purple to all other colors, and that they mainly want to play princesses. It is the media and the society that tells our daughters that this is what the girls should like and be like. And we as a parents are just lazy. We do not use our own judgment because it is always easier to go with the flow. Do not get me wrong, there is nothing bad in wanting to be a princess. But is it really pink that makes one?

I think that we greatly misunderstand what being a princess or a cavalier means. It is not about dresses, it is not about owing a spade or a knife, it is not about wearing pink. It is about patience, it is about education, it is about manners, it is about deep feelings, honesty and integrity. Occasionally I saw girls, that appeared to me real princesses. I saw them at the cafe or at a party. And by the way they hold their cup, by the way they wait their turn to speak, by they way they can ask you a question or give you a compliment, and be honest and fresh in their words, by all that they remained me of real princesses. And by their genuine and open smiles too. And I, like everybody else, felt lucky to be around them. I even stole some tips from those children, and tried to pass them to my own.

There is nothing wrong with wanting our sons to be cavaliers and our daughters to be princesses. Not in words or color of the dress though, but in the essence of the concept.

I often question myself how to teach our children to be patient, to use their own judgment and to be able to think for themselves. To meditate, and to stop and breath through difficult situations, and not to be guided only by their emotions. I wonder how to encourage in them the deep feelings and attachment towards others, towards the people that surround them. We read books that talk about honesty and beauty. I tell them stories and I talk to them about what surrounds us. Yes, I also try to teach them manners, to show them how to be genuinely interested in others. And, no, I do not think that manners are old-fashioned. I ask myself how to encourage them to learn to listen and to ask questions about others. To always look tidy and clean. To never say “I want” or “Buy me this”. And, finally, words do not matter that much. Kids learn from us, from how we behave, from what they are exposed to in their everyday life. And my yardstick as a parent is to watch myself more than I ever did before, to be a good example to them. To never be lazy. And, of course, to offer them all existent colors to dress in, to like and to play with.

And then, if my daughter decides that she prefers pink, I am fine with that.

Barcelona, January 31st 2013

Others cannot Imagine Your Dreams

Posted on January 27, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

This week I went to the Sagrada Familia for the first time. What I got from this experience is the notion that it is impossible to imagine somebody else’s dreams. Impossible till those dreams become reality. Like everybody else, I saw the images of the Sagrada Familia from inside and outside at least hundred times. I looked at it in the tourists books, I made pictures of the facade and even mailed a dozen of cards with its details to my friends. Yet, I have never realized how that space can change one’s understanding of reality.

If somebody shows me a suburban house from outside, I can imagine how this house will look inside. Square from outside, it will be shaped in square units inside, may be it will have an arch in the hall or an arched window. The space in predictable, how you will feel inside is somewhat predictable too. When I saw the Sagrada Familia from outside, I never imagined how it will look inside. The fact that it is a church, made me think that it would have something of a church in it. I could not have been further from the truth.

I entered a forest. An open space. A space without walls. The columns were trees. I walked in this enchanted forest and the afternoon sun was playing light tricks through the colored maple leaves. It did not feel like a safe place. It did not feel like one was walking in the right direction. There was no direction. A place to get lost amidst the light spots and the shadowed passages. Exactly as in the deep woods. With the shades of all shapes and sizes. With the wind weaving through the branches of the trees. With the lights sliding over the trunks.

What impressed me so much was the magic of being lost, of not having any answers. The fact that I could never have imagined how this space would look and feel. This space is its creator’s dream. And we can never imagine somebody else’s dream. We can foresee how the square building will be structured inside. We will not be surprised when we enter it. We will align our expectations with what we see and go with it. It will not change the way we see and understand things. Only the spaces born from the dreams have this power.

Others cannot imagine your dreams. You need to make them come true. You need to build something very true to its stem. Very true to the essence of the impossible. Do not let go even an inch. Forget about expectations, predictions, reality. Do not look for the path, do not long for the safe. Forget what others would like to see. Entering this open space made me realize that others cannot imagine your dreams.

I am talking to you. I am talking to myself too.

Barcelona, January 27th 2013

Leaving the Room

Posted on January 23, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

Two days ago I was walking back home after a team meeting. It was raining and, as it happens sometimes, I was thinking whether or not I should just abandon my crazy startup ideas and get a regular well-paying job.

I was struck by the fact that I am committed to my vision and the startup because seventeen years ago I stood up in front of sixty people and left the room.

It was the first day of my student life, the first day of college, the first day of class. The auditory was filled with nervous students and we all listened to the aged professor who talked in general terms about our future. Thirty minutes in to the speech I stood up and asked the professor, if that was the only topic we were going to talk about for the next two and a half hours. The professor admitted that we were not supposed to talk about anything in particular on the first day of school. Then I said that I had more important things to do and could not lose my time in that way. I picked up my backpack and left the auditory. In front of all sixty something students.

I have to give credit to the professor. He turned out to be an interesting man and we had many insightful discussions on medieval poetry and prose later on. That first day of school he was just doing what he was supposed to do: cater to his auditory. Right now I understand that Spanish students did not expect to learn anything on the first day of class.

Since then I followed my path. I worked for others and I created my own projects. Majority of them failed, some of them survived. All these years my motivation has remained the same, my venues have changed. I work to make people more powerful, to show them the chances that lay in front of them, to encourage them to make their lives better. Our latest project BluewordAi is an expression of this vision.

I believe in what we do. Even so, twice a day, I think that I am just messing up with my life and I should get a good job and help within the system. I know am capable of it. I can follow the directions. I run my own company not because I cannot work for others. I do it because I am committed to the vision of a better society and I have the urgency to play my part in *making* it better. And because when I was seventeen years old I stood up in front of sixty people and was able to leave the room as it was boring and not productive to be sitting there.

Barcelona, January 23rd 2013

Ten Things About Turkey

Posted on January 13, 2013 by Masha Kubyshina

In October we spent a week in Istanbul, Turkey. It is a very crowded and restless city. You can get a lot out of your visit if you are not afraid to explore the city on your own. Here are some things that I did not expect (and loved):

1. Pomegranate juice. Almost everywhere in the city there are pomegranate juice vendors. They carry with them their carts full of pomegranates, and squeeze the juice right when you purchase your drink.

2. Cats. Istanbul is full of cats. We saw cats at mosques, restaurants, shops, museums. Everywhere you go, you see cats. Cats are sleeping, walking, eating among the people. Those tourists who did not like cats had hard time in Istanbul. However, if you are fine with the felines, you will enjoy it.

3. People and kids. Turks are very friendly to children. If my son was crying on the street Turks would stop and ask what was wrong and if they could help. Some offered him a cookie or a candy. The waiters at the restaurants would kiss the kids on both cheeks when they delivered the food. I do not think that my children had so much attention on any other of our trips.

4. Mosques. Mosques are very beautiful. Being raised in a Christian family I never thought that I would experience the same feeling of peace and quietness at a mosque that I do at a church. But I did. Since my very first visit to a mosque I was enchanted by the light and cleanness that invaded my mind and spirit. I think that the passion, art and purpose that people put into the construction of a mosque were the same ones that were put into the building of a church or a cathedral. Thus, the feelings it provokes in one are the same. We are much closer to one another than we imagine.

5. Taxis. If you are in Istanbul use taxi. The experience of driving in a taxi through Istanbul is unforgettable. The drivers do not follow any signs, only their intuition and drive at 60 mph through the one way narrow streets. One way, does not mean one direction, it means one direction at a time, as two cars would not fit next to each other there. During one week the kids and me took taxis every day to move through the city and you end up feeling a little bit like in a James Bond movies driving with those crazy cab drivers.

6. Food. Food is superb in Istanbul. I have not eaten so well anywhere else except Spain. Turks really know how to cook meet and fish. It tastes good, it looks good and you feel good after you have finished your dinner. Ok, sometimes we overate. However, there are very few places in the world where you can eat like this.

7. Coffee. Ok, I had to write something about coffee. I am generally not into Turkish coffee. Nevertheless in Istanbul I drunk it for the whole week from 10am till midnight. Yes, every night we took the kids for coffee and Turkish sweets at Mado. It was one of the best experiences during our stay there. They have really good coffee, the chairs are comfortable and the stuff is friendly. What else can you ask from life?

8. Ceramics at Rustem Pasa mosque. I am not going to describe it, but here are some pictures from that mosque. It takes your breath away for couple of seconds when you enter the space. Well, blue and white are two of my favorite colors. However, it is not only the colors, but the absence of vulgarity and gentleness of the art, that touches ones spirit in that squared space.

9. People. People are very friendly in Istanbul. They are respectful, generous, open and kind. And their hospitality is unique. I have never had so much attention as in Istanbul. Vendors do not just sell you the product, they pass you a part of their knowledge, they share something more then a mere physical object. We spent an hour drinking tea and trying sweets at the spice booth. We were not shopping for tea or sweets. I was buying spices. The vendor invited us for tea, offered lokum to the kids and engaged into an hour conversation. I enjoyed it. Well, not so much the part when he offered the marriage. Yeap, he did not believe that I was married, because I was without my husband at that moment. The rings and the kids were not enough proof for him. But if you can stay firm about your marital status you will enjoy your Istanbul experience greatly. The people and their stories are definitely the best part of the city.

10. The last and the best thing about Turkey is my friend who lives there. Without her my experience in Istanbul would have been very different. It means a lot to have a friend in a place you visit as a tourist. It makes you a little bit local.

World is a funny place after all. You meet people, you like them, you never talk too much, but you still like them and trust them. The life goes on. You take the next step, then another one and one more. You move to a new country, have a new job, speak another language and, finally, make new friends. However, when I met my friend in Istanbul this fall, I realized that I have been sharing with her something invaluable all this time. The silence was not indifference. It was patience. Thank you for being there Ozlem.

Barcelona, January 13th 2013

unrelatedtolife

about sun, coffee, travel and people I have met

Beautiful, Relevant, Violent. Peaceful?

Absolutely Biased about France

Calçots & Getting your Hands Dirty

The Privilege of a Fish

The No End Game

What’s Wrong with the Women Business Events

Princesses and Cavaliers

Others cannot Imagine Your Dreams

Leaving the Room

Ten Things About Turkey

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