I’ve been coaching since 1994. In this series I share my ten most unusual experiences as a teacher, counting down from 10.
All stories happened exactly as told, no embellishment. Some of these events seem difficult while you’re in them, but in retrospect they’re the most memorable and funny. We learn the most through challenge.
10
No man’s land
In the darkness of 1 am, the high-speed train stopped at a “train station” which consisted of nothing more than a ramp, a ticket machine, two bright lamps and an unprotected bench. I’m somewhere in southeastern France.
My notes said it was the right station, but after the train left, I found myself in a vast nothingness of snow-covered fields on both sides of the tracks. No houses, no lights.
I checked the train schedule to see if I could escape the freezing cold until daytime, but the next was due at 6 am. There was no escape to a friendlier place.
It’s 1997 and normal folk don’t have cell phones and google maps yet. The company had sent me on mission with only the name of the train station, the Hotel address and the company name. But in this expanse I saw no buildings, roads or even paths that might lead anywhere.
Having chosen fashion over function, I wasn’t dressed for a long snow trek. The comfort-seeking Ego is used to arriving at a train station and then walking right over to a cozy Hotel. I sometimes miss the days before we carried phones around everywhere. The phones act as pacifiers so that we never, ever have to face anything unfamiliar or adventurous.
I went down stairs to reach a tunnel to go left or right and then emerge in one of the snowy fields. There was no light in the tunnel and it was too dark to even see light at the end of it. I walked on pure faith that it would soon lead me out.
With my heavy suitcase, full of seminar equipment, I walked in complete darkness until I reached a staircase upward. The most thrilling walk of my life to date. The mind throws up all kinds of scenarios, from lurking thieves to zombies. At one point I wondered whether I was dreaming.
Emerging in the snow I saw no path, nor any sign of a human being having even walked here. With trepidation I returned to the tunnel to walk to the other side.
I emerged a few minutes later. Away from the platform I could vaguely discern small lights at great distance, maybe four miles away. I had no choice but to follow the light so I began dragging my suitcase through snow. Am I really going to do this?
Sure, I could cancel the event, citing lack of coordinates. But I’ve never backed down from my word to do a seminar, no matter how difficult. This, by the way, is a major success ingredient. The company preferred me over other teachers for the simple reason that I wouldn’t cancel last minute. Too many people back down at the slightest sign of inconvenience. Instead: Develop resilience.
At 2 am I arrive at the edge of a forest. Traversing it was the only way to reach the light. From here I saw high floodlights surrounding a facility. Walking the forest wasn’t as scary as I thought it might be because the clear sky moon reflected in the snow.
3 am. I arrived at a factory. There was a high chain link fence but I walked around it and entered the facility without problems. No people and no cameras. The place looked run down but it was still operating machinery was buzzing and high chimney towers were blowing out smoke.
My body was shivering and shaking. I climbed a metal stairs to stand near a floodlight to warm up a little. In those days we had incandescent bulbs that gave off warmth.
6 am. I am still on the stairs. I had gotten extra layers of clothing out of the suitcase, but hadn’t slept. People were starting to arrive, but I don’t know from where as I never saw cars approaching. I waved to one woman and she didn’t speak English, so I tried German. She did speak German and I shared what had happened. She motioned me inside where I got warm coffee and cookies.
It turned out the factory was the address I was supposed to do the seminar in. Not too surprising as there was no other place to go.
At 8 am my contact-person arrived and showed me the room. It was an old, rusty warehouse. She told me it used to be a slaughterhouse. Very high ceilings and voice reverberation. Not the kind of place I usually conduct seminars.
At 9 am I was surrounded by 15 participants – all of them women – in a former slaughterhouse, after a night of no sleep in the freezing cold. And none of the women spoke French, they were all German. Does it get any more surreal?
It does.
I chose not to tell them what I’d been through. I typically suppress complaints while working (another success ingredient!) But my contact-person, who was also attending, told them the whole story during lunch break. They seemed amused by it.
Thanks to coffee the day had gone well but at 5 pm I was dead-tired. I tried wrapping up for the day. My contact person looked at her watch and objected
“Didn’t we agree it would go to 7 pm every day?”
“You all still have energy?” I asked, and all affirmed “Yeah!”, so we went to 7 pm.
Everyone was leaving and I had no ride to my Hotel. I had never experienced such a complete lack of hospitality.
I ran outdoors and waved down my contact-person. “Can you give me a ride to the Hotel?” In some distance from the facility there was in fact a parking place, cars and a road that I hadn’t seen the night before.
She gave me the ride and at 7:20 pm we arrived at a three-story house that stood alone. The entire area was just the factory and this one house and the white vast fields of snow all around. Where did the other cars drive to? Where’s the town?
Nobody opened the door. I was too late. So the contact person called someone to open and they took an hour to arrive to hand me the key. At 8:30 pm I was finally in a warm room of my own. I was going to call back to home office to complain, but was too tired. After a shower I went to bed and slept for 9 hours straight.
In the morning I called the guy who sent me to this assignment. He pleaded ignorance of the circumstances and arranged for daily pick up by car. Downstairs a small and uninspired breakfast plate awaited me. There was nobody else in the Hotel all week and I never saw the person who made me breakfast. In fact, I didn’t see any person at the Hotel for the remainder of the week.
Being more awake on the second day I started questioning my surroundings. The “seminar room” was all rusty pipes and window sills, smelly barrels, chains and meat hooks. All the women were fairly attractive – unlike what you’d expect in a run-down factory. It all made little sense, but I figured it’s none of my Business.
The seminar was “English for Negotiation”. English was their second language and they were training to use it in tough situations. I had never given a seminar on the topic, but I’ve always enjoyed improvising. The questions they asked led me to believe their lives revolved around international diplomacy. You’d expect such a workshop to be done in some office building in Brussels, not in a former meat hall.
Nothing more happened and the event concluded after six days. I returned to the train station and had another high speed train stop for one passenger – me.
When I look back, much remains unexplained.
They never shared with me what they do or the purpose of the factory.
There were no signs at the front gates of the complex.
Apart from the “Hotel” there were no other houses.
They had their own train station! A high speed train normally only stops in big cities. Why did it stop for this factory?
None of the women spoke French. They were all German natives.
All that is why this is my 10th weirdest seminar of all time.
