Stockholm Syndrome

While on the train to Stockholm, I was visiting with a Swedish young man and jokingly made a comparison between the Stockholm syndrome and running a marathon. He was not amused. According to Wikipedia, Stockholm Syndrome “is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with the captors. These feelings are generally considered irrational in light of the danger or risk endured by the victims, who essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness.”

I was joking that running a marathon is like being “captured” by the thrill of the race, having positive feelings about running 26+ miles, while knowing that the end will probably involve pain, dehydration, exhaustion (and in my case, hyperthermia—and no one left to see me cross the finish line).  In trying to explain my feeble attempts at humor, I went on to say that one could view marathoners as irrational, masochistic and delusional. OK. It wasn’t funny. That’s why I’m not a comedian.

If you have forgotten, Stockholm Syndrome is named after the Norrmalmstorg robbery of Kreditbanken at Norrmalmstorg in Stockholm, Sweden. During the crime, several bank employees were held hostage in a bank vault from August 23 to 28, 1973, while their captors negotiated with police. During this standoff, the victims became emotionally attached to their captors, rejected assistance from government officials at one point, and even defended their captors after they were freed. The term was coined by Nils Bejerot, consultant psychiatrist to the police when it happened. He called it "Norrmalmstorgssyndromet" (Swedish), directly translated as The Norrmalmstorg Syndrome, but then later became known abroad as the Stockholm syndrome. (Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome)

For some Swedes, Stockholm still has a negative image because of this coined phrase referencing a robbery nearly 50 years ago.

I think we ought to change the image. Let’s campaign for the Stockholm Syndrome to be a phrase referring to a psychological phenomenon in which runners from all over the world come to run a marathon for the purpose of raising funds to eradicate poverty.

24,000 strong at the Start Line... took us 12 minutes to reach that line!

The new entry into Wikipedia could go something like’ “Runners have positive feelings toward their Swedish hosts, sometimes to the point of vacationing and often staying in the homes of Swedish families. They raise hundreds of thousands of dollars each year to minimize the danger and risk endured by the victims of poverty on a daily basis.”

I am always amazed at the number of fun-loving folks across the globe who participate in their favorite passion for worthy humanitarian causes. I am blessed to be able to combine my love of other cultures, adventure for travel,  passion for running, and commitment to eradicating poverty into fantastic life experiences like this one.

And I am a heck of a lot nicer than that other guy!

Heading North

Las Ramblas, Barcelona

When traveling, I have always enjoyed opportunities to visit with fellow travelers. There are always stories to be told, travel tips to be shared, and often, tender (or tough) moments that are experienced. Lynn and I had just wandered through a restaurant (Lynn wanted a table by the window) and settled on one on the sidewalk.)

We had not yet ordered when Malcolm and Sarah wheeled/walked up. Sarah said, “Malcolm, you can’t get that thing over the step,” referring to his motorized wheelchair. He said, “But the food looks good!” I invited them to sit with us at the table on the sidewalk. She said, “Are you sure? Don’t get him started telling tales.”

And our evening of fun began. Malcolm, a retired professor from England, and Sarah, a retired public school teacher from Texas, shared their humor and warmth in a most engaging way. A victim of polio, Malcolm laughs and shares his joy, and lives life to the fullest—and the pain never ceases. Sarah and Malcolm have been together just three years, yet they share the spark and magic of a lifetime of love.

We are surrounded by lives lived often so painfully, yet lives filled with hope. Laughter comes. Love flows. Hope abounds.

I really believe, when we reach out and share our resources—yes, our money, our time, a little bit of ourselves—even with people we will never meet, something good happens. Our world is better for it. So, I continue the journey toward Stockholm. I will finish the race. And hope and pray that through your kindness, some folks in Nepal, in the midst of their pain, will smile. And have hope again.

What it feels like to be robbed.

A double bolt lock that police say was opened with a key

After an afternoon of sightseeing, we returned to our apartment. We unlocked the double bolt door at the entrance and again at the apartment that we had locked upon departure. All windows were shuttered and locked. No reason for concern. I decided to check on the train schedule and opened a secure pouch I had hidden in our luggage. Our money was in this pouch. It was gone. All of it. US dollars. Euros. The money I have saved for two years for this trip. A significant amount. Stolen.

We walked over to the University and asked a receptionist to call the apartment manager since our Sprint phone does not work in Europe and we do not speak Spanish. The manager reported to the receptionist that it was not her concern. She refused to give us her name. She told the receptionist that we could leave.

Riding in the back of a police car. They were so polite!

We filed a report with the Valencia police. In their investigation, they confirmed that there was no forced entry into the apartment and that someone with a key had to have entered by the door. They repeatedly tried to call the phone numbers listed on the envelope, but received voice messages saying the phones were not in service.

So, here we are in Europe with nothing but the credit card we were trying to avoid using (those of you who travel know ATM fees, international transactional fees, higher interest rates, all add up). Because we have only the Euro’s that were in my pocket, we decided to use the ATM. It ate our card. (We discovered that in Europe, all credit cards have a “chip”. U.S. issued Chase Bank cards, even though they are advertised as “international” cards, do not. Hence, not accepted and confiscated by the ATM.)

So, I guess I should amend the above. Here we are in Europe, wanting to share goodwill

professionally and voluntarily through interculturalist conference, and Marathon running for a cause… with nothing. Nada. Zip. to travel on. We called the kids and said send money. 10s and 20s in a brown paper bag.

This hurts. It’s a major financial setback. I am mad. At myself. At invisible others. I feel violated. Defeated. Depressed. Anxious. Angry. Did I mention I am mad?

But what about Pinky Malla. And Shikhar’s family. And Sumi Thakuri. 

Those folks were robbed of their home. Their livelihood. Some were robbed of the life of a loved one. A friend. A child. A mom. I can’t imagine their heartache. Their anger. Their despair. If you are reading this, please help. Not me. Them. Our friends in Nepal. They need our support. Now.

Anticipation

I'll never survive the week before the race!

Arriving in Valencia Spain to attend the SIETAR Europa Conference (ADIET Fundacio Universitat Empresa) is filled with anticipation and expectation. I am looking forward to meeting peers and learning about cutting edge practices and processes in the field of intercultural communication and management. I am also looking forward to “running with the bulls” –not really, but it least running on the streets where the bulls used to run. 

Where the bulls used to run.

Marta Williams, as keynote speaker shared stories of her grandfather and the development of business in the 20^th Century, ending with thoughts on one planet, one chance at destiny. My thoughts wandered between her butterfly analogy and my friends in Nepal who are still digging out of the rubble of substandard housing and infrastructure.

I guess the question is, ”Does any one person really make a difference?” Marta says YES! I want to believe her.

Men of Action for Nepal!

Can We Paint Them RED?

The Bucket List

A few years ago, I put on my bucket list that I wanted to participate in a marathon on every continent by the time I was 75. Well, except for Antarctica. An old man has to know his limits! Every marathon was to be a fundraiser for some worthy cause! Love what you do. Live life. Have fun. AND take care of others along the way is how I have tried to live so far. So.

North America? Been there. Done that. Last one? 2009. So, in 2012, I signed up for a marathon in Seoul Korea. During a training run I was clipped by a pickup truck on a street near my home. Asia marathon didn’t happen. Months later, with therapy, lots of love and support, and the determination to run again, I began training. In 2014, I registered for the St. Petersburg Marathon. I was thrilled! Russian-Ukraine conflict canceled that trip (parts of the trip would have taken me into Western Russia, Eastern Ukraine. We were advised not to go.) United Airlines stole $1730.00 of my money. ("United cannot be held responsible for any misinformation that may be given by a United representative." Yes. That’s a quote from United Customer Service.) So, Europe marathon… nope.

I’m running out of time… and money. So, 2015. Stockholm here I come! The devastation in Nepal (a country in which I have never traveled, but do have friends I love dearly) clearly is on my mind. They need my help. So, my fundraising efforts go their way.

Still loving. Still living. Still running. 

#give4Nepal, #nepalearthquake, #StockholmMarathon