52 Cups of Coffee: Inspiring and insightful stories for navigating life’s uncertainties

by Megan Gebhart

  I loved his critique of my photo because his insight related to more than just photography: It related to life. “The key is finding the right balance.”

  Then Roman and I talked about the challenges of doing creative work, especially when self-employed. It was clear many of his challenges stemmed from finding the right mix of two things: working hard without burning out; moving a project forward without forcing it; enjoying the moment, but still preparing for the future; being creative yet pragmatic, confident yet humble. The list continued.

  * * *

  I was glad I had met Roman and heard his stories before going back to the U.S. and jumping into a career. Too often, people get wrapped up in their work and neglect other aspects of their lives: family, friends, health, etc. It works for a while, but if the balance is off for too long, things start to fall apart.

  Cup 41 and the picture of Berlin serve as a reminder that life needs structure, but not so much that it doesn’t have blue skies too.

  Mihaela Fabian

  Museon Museum in Den Haag, The Netherlands

  Café Americano

  Raise the potential of others.

  Before Cup 42, I had never given Romania much thought. After Cup 42, I decided I needed to visit Romania, so I immediately planned a visit later in my travels through Europe.

  Here’s a very quick history lesson: After WWI, Romania was experiencing an era of prosperity. At the start of WWII the country wanted to remain neutral; however, a Soviet ultimatum forced them to the Axis side. Then, when the war ended, the Soviet Union forced Romania into a social republic. Over the following decades, the Communist government established a reign of terror over the country.

  In 1974, Nicolae Ceausescu took over as the Romanian President and began borrowing heavily to finance economic programs for the Socialist Republic of Romania. This left the country more than $13 billion dollars in debt. To solve the problem, Ceausescu began exporting agricultural and industrial products to repay the debt to other countries. The plan worked economically but left Romanians in a dire situation: Ceausescu’s exports depleted the country of adequate resources to survive; Romanians faced food rationing and frequent electricity blackouts.

  Mihaela Fabian was one of the many Romanians forced to endure the suffering and decline in the standard of living.

  * * *

  We were sitting in the cafeteria at the Museon Museum of Popular Science in Den Haag (near Amsterdam) as Mihaela recounted her experience. As a young woman in school, she would often do her homework in the dark during power outages and often ran out of common food staples. Mihaela shared a vivid memory of the first time she was able to leave Romania. The train station where she arrived had bananas and beer for sale—she let out a cry of joy she was so excited. There were no bananas or beer in Romania.

  It was clear her upbringing hadn’t been easy, but she said close family ties helped her through it. Luckily, life was very different now. The Romanian Revolution of 1989 brought an end to Ceausescu’s dreadful reign and paved the way for democracy that was slowly rebuilding the country from its rocky past.

  As for Mihaela, she was no longer a young woman facing food shortages in Romania. She was now the wife of the Romanian Ambassador to the Netherlands.

  * * *

  My aunt Kim met Mihaela through the International Wives Club she had joined when my uncle’s job moved them from Houston, Texas to the Netherlands. The club, which had a couple dozen ladies from all different countries and cultures, helped women who were new to the country meet other women in the same situation. When my aunt told me about the group, she mentioned Mihaela would be fascinating to talk with.

  As luck would have it, one night while out to dinner, we ran into Mihaela, who was having dinner with a friend. My aunt introduced us and we set up a meeting for the following morning.

  * * *

  I was fortunate to grow up in a household where we never worried if there would be enough food on the table or if the lights would work when we flipped the switch. This made it difficult to grasp what Mihaela’s life had been like growing up. It was even harder to comprehend how a ruler could allow his people to suffer in such a way (especially when, a week later, I visited Bucharest, and saw the multi-billion-dollar parliament building Ceausescu had built during his reign).

  I asked Mihaela if, during those difficult times, she had ever imagined she would be leading the distinguished life of a diplomat’s wife. She said she hadn’t.

  Then she told me a story of an older woman once telling her she was lucky. However, Mihaela’s perspective was, “you pay a price for luck.”

  The best things in life don’t come easy. Mihaela endured difficult times, worked hard and made sacrifices to get to where she is today. In college, Mihaela studied psychology before becoming a speech pathologist for children with hearing impairments. There was great joy in her voice as she described years spent working with kids—watching their growth and development.

  She explained that the woman she had been with when we saw her the previous night was a former student of hers. The young woman had lost her hearing when she was six months old because of an incorrect dose of antibiotics. This left her facing an uncertain future. Fortunately, Mihaela had found her, and through their work together, the girl developed the necessary skills to excel in high school and continue on to college, where she was now working on an advanced degree in medicine.

  Mihaela was filled with pride as she told the story. She said she stayed in touch with many of her students, and it was obvious she had been good at her job.

  However, when her husband became an ambassador, Mihaela knew she would have to quit her work to help serve her country.

  She clearly missed it. While we were talking, two dozen preschoolers on a field trip ran past us toward the museum entrance, instantly stealing Mihaela’s attention in the process. She really loved kids.

  But she also loved her country. Despite the difficulties of its past, Mihaela spoke of Romania with great affection, and was grateful for the opportunity to show others what the country has to offer. She spends a lot of time meeting people and talking about Romania, which—between her warm personality and easy sense of humor—is a role that suits her well. It didn’t surprise me when she said she made friends wherever she went.

  In fact, it was when were on the topic of friendships when she casually said, “We have to raise the potential of others.”

  That’s the statement that stuck with me after Mihaela and I ended our conversation. I understood then what drove her to become what she is today. Whether it is helping young patients, serving as a diplomat for Romania, or befriending a Texan recently transplanted to the Netherlands, Mihaela sees the potential in others, and that’s what gave her own life meaning.

  Yasmina Boustani &

  Katharina Schmitt

  A local café in Cannes, France

  Café Americano

  It’s the extra step that creates the opportunity.

  On Friday, June 20th, at 8:30 PM, I sent Yasmina Boustani a Facebook message. At 9:10 PM she responded. By 9:41 PM that night we had arranged to meet for coffee the following morning.

  * * *

  It was because of a Facebook message that I was in France in the first place. A few weeks before I left for Europe, I received an unexpected Facebook message from my friend Trista, a recent alumna of Michigan State, who had moved to Texas. She knew I was headed to Europe and wanted to let me know she was going to be in Rome assisting with a study abroad program. If I could get to Rome, she would love to give me a grand tour of the city.

  I told her I’d love to meet up and would contact her when I knew the dates I’d be in Italy.

  When I emailed her the dates of my arrival, I discovered she would be spending that weekend in Cannes, France at the Cannes Lion International Festival of Creativity. A few months earlier Bill Ward, Cup 9, and I were catching up over another cup of coffee, and he mentioned that if I were ever in France, it would be worthwhile to swing by
Cannes to check out the festival.

  I decided to reroute to Cannes and met up with Trista, hoping to find a big-hitter in the advertising industry to meet for coffee.

  It was a great plan, but, like many of the plans I’d made during my trip, it took an unexpected turn. The last festival session I attended was the Future Lions Competition award ceremony. It is the culmination of a global competition where college students, working in teams of two, are challenged to “advertise a product from a global brand in a way that couldn’t have been conceived five years ago.”

  There were over 800 entries submitted from around the globe, of which four finalists were chosen to attend Cannes.

  Each of the finalists showed a short video explaining their concept, and it was fascinating to see the quality of the presentations and the innovation of the ideas. The first two were impressive, but it was the third idea, created by Yasmina and Katharina Schmitt, which struck me.

  Their idea for 1-800 Flowers was to take the digital act of saying “Happy Birthday” on Facebook and make it more tangible, more meaningful. Their product, Flowers for Facebook, printed a person’s Facebook birthday wishes on paper and used it to deliver a surprise bouquet of flowers to the birthday girl. It was a fun product with a very compelling video.

  At the end of the presentation, the lively emcee put up the contact information and encouraged conference attendees to reach out to these talented young advertisers, stating very simply, “Hire them before they steal your job.”

  That’s when I decided I wanted to talk to Yasmina and Katharina. Not only did I love their idea, I thought it would be more fun to talk to the future industry big hitters rather than the current ones.

  * * *

  So there we were, Yasmina, Katharina and me, sitting at an outdoor cafe a block from the Mediterranean Sea.

  After we had ordered our coffee, we started getting to know each other better. Yasmina was originally from Beirut, Lebanon. She had earned a degree in Advertising and Art Direction from the Lebanese Academy of Fine Arts before enrolling at the Miami Ad School in Europe. That was where she met Katharina.

  Katharina was from Mannheim, Germany. Her aspiration was to become a dancer, but she realized en route that she had a passion for advertising. She shifted her efforts toward a Bachelors degree in Economics and Marketing, before enrolling at the Ad School.

  Katharina and Yasmina quickly became friends, then project partners, and then roommates in New York City, where they studied abroad for a semester. While there, they created Flowers for Facebook for a class project. Their professor encouraged them to submit the idea to Future Lions. They didn’t think the idea was ready for Cannes, but followed the professor’s advice anyway.

  After a few tweaks, they submitted the idea and waited for a response, not expecting much. With so many submissions, they figured they didn’t stand a chance.

  They were happily wrong. The idea was good enough to make it to the final round. This meant Yasmina and Katharina were headed to France for an intense week of advertising adventures and one last hurrah together before Katharina headed to Germany to begin her first job and Yasmina returned to New York for one last semester.

  They were loving their time at Cannes, reconnecting with old friends they knew from school who had since moved to different corners of the world. After going all the way to France to connect with friends from my backyard in Michigan, I could relate.

  And it wasn’t just France; along each step of my European adventure, I connected with friends: a running buddy from home now living in Poland, as well as former MSU classmates working in Scotland, Prague, and Poland.

  It felt pretty surreal that an American, a Lebanese, and a German would all enjoy a great cup of coffee and conversation together in a cafe in France.

  But at the same time, it felt perfectly natural. Technology is changing the way we connect and do business—global collaboration is becoming as easy as collaborating with the cubicle (or, in my case, the table in a coffee shop) next door. It is an incredible opportunity, but only for those willing to leverage technology—those willing to take action, take risks and think globally.

  It doesn’t happen while sitting at home behind a computer. It happens when you get outside your comfort zone, find ways to travel and try new things. I made two new friends because Yasmina and Katharina were willing to enter a competition they had a slim chance of winning, and were willing to say yes to a Friday-night Facebook message from a stranger asking to meet for coffee.

  It is easy to take two seconds and write “Happy Birthday” on a friend’s Facebook wall. It’s a little harder to take an extra step and do something memorable. But if Cup 43 taught me anything, it is this: it’s the extra step that creates the opportunities.

  And in today’s world, those opportunities can literally take you around the world.

  Tony Stone

  Stoats Porridge Oat Bar Headquarters in Edinburgh, Scotland

  Office-brewed coffee

  It’s important to have a plan, but the real key is having the courage to take the first step.

  Don’t be afraid to change directions. This was the mentality I had going into my European adventure, and the reason I ended up in Scotland.

  My flight back to the States was out of London, so I decided that’s where I would spend the last four days of my trip. However, when a friend from Michigan State emailed me to say she was going to be in Scotland for the TED Global conference, I decided to revise my plan. I’d spend two days in Edinburgh before taking a short train ride to London for my last two days.

  * * *

  I was weary from travel when I rolled into Scotland at 10:30 pm, but the beauty of the castle-lined landscape resting under a crescent moon restored my energy. After pausing to take a few photos and drink in the moment, I headed toward the hostel I’d booked, making a quick stop inside a convenience store along the way for a late-night snack.

  It was the bold green packaging on the Stoats Porridge Oat Bar that caught my attention.

  After looking at the package, I discovered it was produced locally in Edinburgh. And after eating the bar I checked online to see if the bars were available in the States. The search naturally led me to the Stoats website, where I read about the offbeat origins of the company. It was a fascinating story (filled with delightful British vernacular), so the next morning I decided to email the company to see if I could grab a coffee with co-founder Tony Stone. He agreed, and we set up a meeting.

  * * *

  When I arrived at the Stoats headquarters in the outskirts of the city, I wasn’t sure I was in the right spot. But then I noticed the small white Stoats sign, on a door nestled among a handful of larger manufacturing shops. I cautiously turned the handle and walked inside to find a simple setting: large bags of raw oats, stacks of cardboard boxes, and various flyers on the walls. Basically, I saw what you would expect from a manufacturing plant if you spent any time imagining what a manufacturing plant might look like.

  Tony heard me enter, and yelled hello from his office down the hallway before coming out to meet me. He was tall, lanky, and personable, with a relaxed disposition and friendly Scottish accent. We walked into the office he shared with two other employees. He apologized for the disorder—piles of promotional material and files lined his desk, random boxes of product samples strewn about—and the lack of quality coffee. I told him I didn’t mind; after seven weeks on the road, I was used to disorder.

  * * *

  Tony had always entertained the idea of starting a company, but he wasn’t sure in what capacity. That changed the day he and his friend Bob went to a music festival. I like how their website explains it:

  Stoats began with an idea in 2004 to serve fresh porridge at music festivals. We listened to our mates moan and groan about what they had to eat to survive at music festivals. We knew that porridge would make a healthy, filling and tasty eating option, so we decided porridge was the future (and quite a cool way to spend the summer). Bob and Tony got a sh
iny wee mobile porridge bar and started selling freshly made porridge across the UK, and festival audiences loved it (and still do—look for the biggest queue at breakfast and you’ve found Stoats Porridge).

  In 2004, porridge was getting a lot of attention in the press—it was one of Scotland’s best exports and was an especially trendy food at the time. Tony and Bob saw an opportunity and decided to capitalize on it.

  They decided to take it one step further: they would set up a small store where they’d sell porridge year-round. But reality intervened. When they approached the bank for a loan, they weren’t able to get as much money as they requested.

  But that didn’t stop them; they just reevaluated the plan and decided to stick with selling bowls of fresh porridge to festivalgoers, advertising their product with a big banner alongside the truck that read:

  STOATS PORRIDGE BAR

  Their decision worked, business was booming, and (although they didn’t see it) was about to change directions again.

  Many of their customers misunderstood what “PORRIDGE BAR” meant. While the banner implied the type of bar synonymous with buffet, table, counter, etc., many concert goers thought that Stoats sold bars of porridge—like granola bars. The thought never occurred to Tony and Bob, but they figured if that’s what their customers wanted, that’s what they should sell. After a little experimenting in the kitchen, the original Stoats Porridge Bar was born and became an instant hit.

  While hearing Tony’s firsthand account of the company’s growth, it became clear to me that it was their ability to be flexible and their willingness to try new things that allowed them to develop a successful business, one that continued to grow. It was a lot like my European trip: I had an itinerary, but it hadn’t been so concrete I couldn’t revise it when a better opportunity arose.