What a misstep on a remote farm in Myanmar taught me about leadership, listening, and last-mile sales The Morning That Felt Different It was the kind of morning I’ve come to know well in rural Myanmar’s dry zone—quiet, golden, and already heavy with heat. The overnight bus from Yangon had dropped me in Magway at 4 a.m. The streets were still asleep, save for the occasional trishaw gliding past. I rented a small motorbike, found a local tea shop that was just beginning to stir, and waited for the first light with a cup of sweet, thick Burmese tea. I’d done this countless times—early field visits that began in silence and dust, long before any office opened. But this visit felt different. I wasn’t here to just observe or support. I was here to quietly assess one of our most promising team leads. Meet “Spiky Head” Everyone on the team called him Spiky Head —a nickname earned as much for his wild, uncombed hair as for his sharp, unfiltered energy. He had outsold everyone in the regi...
From Profit to Purpose: The Ride That Rewired My Career Real stories of growth, grit, and leadership from Myanmar’s frontier markets The Photo That Says Everything There’s a photo I keep going back to. I’m on a motorbike, dressed like I’m heading into a meeting—button-up shirt, clean trousers, polished office shoes. But I’m not in an office. I’m stuck in knee-deep mud, somewhere on a half-formed road in Kantbalu Township, Shwebo. The sky is overcast. It had stopped raining just enough that morning to let us ride out. We made it to Kalalu village after an hour of slippery trails. But on the way back, the rain returned. The road vanished. It took us more than three hours of dragging and pushing the motorbike just to get back to the main road. It was my first field trip with a new organization—one focused not on profit, but on people. On farmers, soil health, and livelihoods. I didn’t even know how to dress for this world yet. The World I Came From Before that muddy road, I ...