Tag Archives: Mustapha

La Salsiccia di Phillip, Phillip’s Sausage

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la salsiccia di Phillip

It was whilst delivering the final day of the NLP Practitioner course in Vicenza, Italy, that I realised that the participants had remembered what I had taught them on my last visit.

Not only had the remembered “Antonio” (“Fred” or “Mustapha“), but “Oh Poo Poo” and “Phillip’s Sausage“.

FaceBook group has been created just for “Phillip’ Sausage“, called La Salsiccia di Phillip, so sign up now.

 

la salsiccia di Phillip

la salsiccia di Phillip


The Phillip's Sausage

Phillips Sausage


If you do not know what is Phillip’s Sausage, you will have to come on a course. Visit web site nlpnow.net

DenizBank

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DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

A large number of staff from the Turkish Bank, DenizBank, (deniz meaning sea in English), attended one of three,  three hour presentation I gave at their wonderful academy facilities in Şişli a district in Istanbul. My presentation was part of a larger course they were attending.

I had worked with a number of DenizBank staff before, when they attended a course called “Learn English with NLP“, given by a previous company I worked with (see Category Archives headed English Courses in the left hand column). I provided the NLP portion of the training. The course to learn English lasted nine days, from 9am until 9pm. I had three sessions with the attendees, in the morning 9am till 9:45am, at lunch time from 1:30pm until 2pm, and then in the evening from 6pm until 6:45pm.

Each of the three presentations given in DenizBank’s Şişli academy had nearly three hundred attendees, and I covered three aspects of NLP for them to understand and learn from. What are the anchors they are giving to fellow staff members and to customers, what impressions are they leaving people? What feedback do they give others? How to stay strong with MustaphaAntonio or Fred.

Under the spot lights on the stage it was hot, and time just slipped by so quickly, but my timing was spot on. I had been given exact times to start and finish, as the attendees had other presentations to catch.

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

Phillip Holt with translator Arzu at DenizBank seminar

 

 

 

 

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

Demonstrating an NLP technique

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

 

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

Phillip Holt works with attendees at DenizBank seminar

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

DENİZBANK Presentation, Istanbul

My Computer Oh Poo Poo

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Handle off mug

No matter where I go in the world, things happen. Sometimes good, sometimes bad.

Monday night after finishing the English NLP class with NLPGrup, I returned to the apartment in Taxim Tunel, and after a while at 8:30pm, I felt hungry, and decided to get my usual wrap from La Cantine. Plus I needed milk and some Cornflakes, for my breakfast.

On returning, climbing those steep stairs, I had nothing to, as others were out enjoying themselves, perhaps drinking, relaxing, maybe deciding to stay with friends overnight, leaving pets and their family to fend for themselves. I decided to watch the SlingBox TV system. (clink to find out more)

As I watched, I wanted a cup of tea, unusual me late at night, and I had one tea back left. I sat back and enjoyed a hot cup of tea, British style, with milk.

With half my cup of tea left in my hand, the handle, a metal handle collapsed, and the remaining cup fell to the table, and my computer, some of the liquid finding its’ way onto my computer keyboard.

Handle off mug

My heart beat at double the rate, I could feel it. My reaction was to say words not allowed on the internet, I had a vision of sick deer.

What do I do.

I had to keep calm, so Oh Poo Poo, came to mind.

So what could I do?

Nothing, it had happened I had to be calm to deal with the situation, my Oh Poo Poo helped me to quickly clean-up the mess, but my new computer. The keyboard was not working.

I went to bed, with my attention on Mustapha so that I would sleep, a hard day was to Tuesday, there was not point in crying over split milk, my computer keyboard was dead. I hope my insurance will cover the damage.

The next day, I cleaned more of those internal parts I could access, I do not wish to break and seals on the computer, these could invalidate the warranty or insurance policy.

I got most of the keys working, but not all.

Oh Poo Poo.

Not Again

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Golden Horn Bridge, Istanbul

The evening did not start well.

I walked down to the ferry terminal after a long day of training and having to cross the Bosphorus from Kadikoy to Beşitaş (Asian to European side of Istanbul), and saw the ferry at the quayside. I raced to the gate only to see it closing majestically with me on the wrong side, and I watched as the ferry glide out of the port.

Once back in Taxim Tunel, I brought a wrap from a little corner café, La Cantine, (now closed), run by a French couple, plus a freshly squeezed orange juice. I was to have a relaxing time, watching British TV on the computer internet through Slingbox.

Slingbox is a great device that plugs into the back of say a satellite or cable TV box, that is then connected to the inter net router at home. Through the inter net connection in whatever country I am in, I can access the Slingbox back home and watch British TV, not only that, I can control the channels I want to watch.

The apartment I am staying in is on the forth floor, with a spiral staircase. Now I am used to running up stairs, but these seem so steep, everyone that climbs those stairs, has to rest half way up. They are a killer.

Spiral Stairs, Tunel Flat, Istanbul

Spiral Stairs, Tunel Flat, Istanbul

I got to the door, gently holding my orange juice, my mouth watering at the prospect of eating my wrap. But the key would not turn.

Not three months earlier, I had returned back to the apartment to notice on the tough climb of the stairs, that there were pieces of metal laying by each flat door. I knew something was wrong.

On reaching my door, there was no point in trying to turn the key to open the door, there was no locking mechanism there, and the door was firmly shut and locked.

There was no-one in the whole building, I do not speak any Turkish. Oh Poo Poo. I called an ex employee who came to my aid, plus my translator Asu. We called a locksmith plus the police, only to find that yes we had been burgled. I had lost money, a camera.

Asuman Yildirim

Although I did not enjoy the experience, who would? I found the police here in Istanbul perhaps one of the most friendly I have encountered, even though we had to communicate via a translator.

The horror of that experience returned as I tried in vain to turn the key.

But I had Mustapha. I had the previous experience to draw upon. I called the same locksmith.

On his last visit he made sure that no-one would be able to break-in again. He was good, so good, that he took from 8:30 until 11:30pm to get in. That will teach him. Perfectionist. (Ho Ho). He had to used brute force.

Once in, it was realised that no-one had entered, it was the failure of the door locking gear. New door I think.

So by mid night I was in bed, knowing that 8am the next morning I would be picked up by car to get to the Eastern side to take the English language participants further along the process I do for easy learning.

8:10 am I get a phone call, asking if the car had arrived, as the person calling the General Manager of NLPGrup, Selva, could not reach the driver, his phone was off.

Only thing for it was to quickly catch the Tunel train and the ferry.

Walking down to the ferry terminal I passed under a bridge that crosses the water of the Golden Horn, and was amazed at the number of people standing on either side of the bridge fishing. There was not any spaces left. I would not like to sail a boat under that bridge. Looking around the Golden Horn, it seemed that the whole population of Istanbul had taken-up fishing.

Golden Horn Bridge, Istanbul

Golden Horn Bridge

There must be some great memory skills in Turkey.

As we sailed across the Bosphorus I sat in the cold morning air on the outside deck, the sea was awash was quite a swell, and as we entered each trough, the ferry created a spray of salt sea water, refreshing my face, my mind.

As we moored the other side, I noticed how clam the water became, and realised that was the state I was in. Very calm, whilst all about me was in turmoil.

We need to learn this art.