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...
PinLaung Township, Shan North, Myanmar – 2017 A Window, A Coffee, A Market Waiting It was the monsoon season in 2017. I was deep in Shan North, in a village in PinLaung Township. Locals used to say this was the place that rains once a year—because once it starts, it feels like the rain never ends for another four months. Mist hangs so thick in the air after it rains, you’re not sure if it’s still raining or just fog floating around you. The whole place looks like a dream. Beautiful mountains, cool air, and somewhere up there—like a Hollywood-style landmark—you’ll see the giant white letters spelling “I ❤️ Pinlaung” . That morning, I opened my hotel bedroom window, coffee in hand. What I saw stopped me for a moment—a sea of clouds below the mountains, the sign sitting proudly above them, and the sun slowly rising from the east. A scene so peaceful, you’d never want to leave your chair. But I was there for work. I had just opened up this new frontier for my sales team. After two m...