@@CHAP@@ INTRODUCTION
@@CHAP@@ GREETINGS FROM BALI
Hong Kong, Christmas 1988: I was nineteen years old, sitting with my parents, brother, and sister talking about where we wanted to be in thirty years. Strangely, we all fantasized about the same thing: owning a resort on a paradise island where we could spend time together and live in nature. We weren’t wealthy and had no way to afford a resort, but we had spent my childhood on the beaches of Papua New Guinea, and they had been very happy years. Compared with Hong Kong—well, there was no comparison.
We all agreed it was a wonderful dream that Christmas Day, but that was all it was, and I went off to college to be an architect instead. I had made it to my fifth year in the seven-year program when I realized I still had decades to go before I would see the fruition of my training. I didn’t want to wait until I was in my sixties to reap the rewards of my work! I thought about my dream of one day having a resort on a paradise island. I wanted that dream, but even in thirty years, I wouldn’t realize it as an architect.
I knew I needed a different and quicker path to success. So I decided to quit college to find it.
It was a hard decision, especially because my father had wanted me to be an architect. On the day I made the decision, I phoned my father and said, “Dad, if I’m going to design buildings, it won’t be as an architect. It will be as the person who owns the property and has the money to hire the best architects.” And I waited for his response.
My dad was surprised and sounded disappointed, but in the end he said, “If that is what you have to do, go do it.” I decided to start my own company with a friend, and we began a publishing business with almost no money and even less experience.
That’s how I ended up in my late twenties, five years later, living in Singapore and running my little start-up real estate property magazine. So much for making my life an instant success! I had dreams of wild financial success, but that dream’s fulfillment still seemed to lie in a hazy, distant future.
This is when I reached a critical moment: I was falling ever deeper into debt. I was working very hard but paying myself very little. I felt like I had no choice: When the company grew, I had to hire another person or pay for extra marketing to grow more. The way I saw it, once the business was successful, it would pay me more. I believed I had to put all the money I made back in the business. The consequences of this decision were about to become clear in a very public way.
As I walked home one evening, lost in thought on the things I had to do tomorrow, I noticed a commotion on our street. Someone was shouting. Actually, it sounded like crying. The neighbors were out watching the drama. As I walked closer, I saw they were looking at the front of our house. The one crying was Renate, my wife. Our daughter Kathleen, just a year old and looking very distressed, was in Renate’s arms. She was pleading with a man standing in front of a truck—a tow truck lifting our car up by its hook.
I ran toward them. “You can’t take our car. Please…,” I heard Renate beg. She looked around and saw me.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
As if I didn’t know: I had been late on the car payments again. Renate had reminded me, and I had promised I would make a payment. But I hadn’t. There simply wasn’t enough money in the bank. Even though I was keeping up appearances of being successful, in reality I was going into more debt each month, hoping it would all turn around one day. Now our money problems were out there for everyone to see as the man prepared to tow our car away.