So, how did I get out here?
It seems to be a tradition in my family that when we grow up, we move as far away as we can. I was born in the Nova Scotia to a pair of expat English university professors who had escaped post-war England to settle in Canada in the 60s. Considering that this involved travel by ship, it was an effective escape.
When I graduated highschool, I did what Maritimers call goin’ down the road – left home and headed west to find work and perspective. My first stop was in Montreal, where I spent eight wonderful, impoverished years being an art bum, learning how to handle a hammer and forge, sculpt in clay, and really cook. It was a time that forged friendships that endure to this day, and I still consider myself to be a Montrealer at heart.
However, man cannot live by art alone. By 2002, job opportunities had become increasingly scarce in Montreal and as I’d finished my degree it was time to head down the road again. This time, I went so far west I ended up in the East, in China. I was now half a world away from geographically, and a world away culturally. China was amazing, chaotic, overwhelming, and incredible. From my first years in Harbin, where the snow blows in sepia with grit from the loess plains of Mongolia, to the remainder of my time in the mind-melting metropolis of Shanghai, China was a learning experience I’ll never forget, and where I truly started my career as a communicator.
I never intended to find a career there, let alone one in corporate. In fact, I was happily writing and learning my trade as an editor and photographer, doing magazines and writing for travel guides and the like. Becoming a communications and marketing guy happened quite accidentally, when one of my poker buddies who was a recruiter persuaded me to go to an interview. The rest, as they say, was history, and I was eyeballs deep in a crash course on cowboy business, China-style. That kept me busy for five years or so, but after the Olympics and Expo, Shanghai started to become hard, cold, and stressful. It was time to move on, and go somewhere with clean air, fresh water, and about 29.7 million less people.
So now, here I am, doing my thing in Switzerland. I love it here, and my roots are growing deep for the first time in a very long time. I still miss my previous homes, in the Maritimes, Montreal, and Shanghai, but this is a different type of home, one that can become Home. It’s unlikely I’ll ever be Swiss, but my life has been one of a string of not-really-beings. Not English, not fully Canadian, waiguoren, ausländer.
I guess I’m just Dave. And I’m happy with that.