what is your excuse? (preview) by esther jacobs

8/11/2019 What is your excuse? (Preview) by Esther Jacobs

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Esther Jacobs

What is your excuse?No money, no time, no experience; no problem!


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Readers comments

Esther has shown me that problems dont exist; only challenges do. reader Danielle

Reads like an adventure story. Inspires readers not towalk the beaten path.

Sant Magazine

I have quit my job and I am going to start my own business. reader Bert

I now realize that things wont happen just like that and thatI will have to persevere,

reader Iris

I dont like books. Got this one for Christmas. Read it in one go.Thanks for the wise lessons. reader Ruud

The book moved me to tears. reader Angelique

I have taken unpaid leave to travel around the world

ready for adventure! reader Saskia

The book is inspiring, which you should expect from a make your dreamscome true book, but it has also been written compellingly.

Susan Smit, Happinez Magazine


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2017 Esther Jacobs

This book was previously published in The Netherlands as Wat is jouw excuus?in 2009. Reprinted in 2013.

Translated to English by Nienke Visser- GoodenoughEdited by Judith van Beers - www.judithvanbeers.nl

Cover designPlan B Grafimediabureau, NL

Formatting and design of the book interiorMarieke Rinzema, Fuig tekst en ontwerpburo, NL

Adaptation of layout for English [email protected]

Cover pictureDick Duyves, NL

Photo of the author on back coverwww.eefphotography.com

Print book ISBN 978-90-6523-321-9PDF ISBN 978-90-6523-641-8

The last day Universal MCA Music Holland B.V./Music Corp. of America Inc.

CopyleftIdeas and inspiration need to be shared. Feel free to share quotes, pages andideas from this book. I would appreciate if you mention this book as the source:

whatisyourexcuse.us. If you want to share larger parts of the book or use it forcommercial purposes, please contact me for permission: [email protected].

www.estherjacobs.info
http://www.estherjacobs.info/http://www.estherjacobs.info/


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Other titles by Esther Jacobs

What is your dream?

Have you found your Mr. Wrong yet?

Digital Nomads: how to live, work and play around the world

How to write a book in one week

Visit www.estherjacobs.infofor more information on her books,

workshops and keynotes.


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ContentsWhats your excuse? .................................................................... 9

Excuse 1: I dont dare... ............................................................ 14

Excuse 2: This is so not me .....................................................26

Excuse 3: I have a career to think about ..................................44

Excuse 4: I wouldnt know where to start ...............................66Excuse 5: I cannot do this alone .............................................86

Excuse 6: I dont have any money ........................................ 100

Excuse 7: Ive already tried that. ........................................... 112

Excuse 8: I am not being taken seriously... .........................128

Excuse 9: Ive had a difficult childhood. ...............................146

Excuse 10: I dont have the time for this. ...............................158

Excuse 11: What I want is not possible. ................................170

Excuse 12: What if it doesnt work out? ............................... 188

Excuse 13: What if I do succeed? ...........................................208

Excuus 14: Why change? Things are fine the way they are. 226

Excuse 15: What will people say? .........................................250

Excuse 16: This is not the right moment. ............................280

Excuse 17: I have responsibilities towards others. ................296

Excuse 18: I dont know what I want. ....................................308

Acknowledgements .................................................................312

About the author + other books ..............................................314
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If today were the last of all daysWould it change how you feel, who you are?

Would you rise for a moment Above all your fears

Become one with the moon and the stars?

Would you like what you see looking downDid you give everything that you could

Have you done everything that you wanted to doIs there still so much more that you hold

Follow your dream to the end of the rainbow Way beyond one pot of gold

Open your eyes to the colors around you And !nd the true beauty life holds

Would you live for the moment Like when you were young

If time didnt travel so fast Be free in the present enjoying the now

Not tied to a future or past

Follow your dream to the end of the rainbow Way beyond one pot of gold

Open your eyes to the colors around you And !nd the true beauty life holds

You probably said all you wanted to say But doesnt that strike you as strange

That we only begin to start living our lives

If today were the last of all daysIf today were the last of all days

Of all days.....

Marilyn Scott, The last day


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Whats your excuse?

Whats your excuse?I had been away for weeks, surviving on a deserted Malaysian island for theEuropean version of the popular reality TV Show Survivor. Suddenly I was backhome, three weeks earlier than expected.Before anyone was aware of my return, I decided to fly straight on to the USwhere my younger brother lives. He had been out there for a few years, livingin an artists commune in North Carolina. I had never seen where he lived, andthis seemed to be a perfect opportunity for an unexpected visit. I had takencare of my little brother, who is twelve years my junior, for a few years when he

was a teenager. We still remained very close.

I listened to the song playing on my I pod: The last day by Marilyn Scott. I didlike this song, but I had never really listened to the lyrics properly. Until now:What would you do if today were the last of all days? Staring out of the planewindow, I thought about it. What if this were indeed my last day, how would Iwant to spend it? I concluded I would be doing exactly the same as I was doingright now: visiting my brother. This moved me deeply, while the thought ofspending my day as if it were my last filled me with energy. Never before had

I felt so alive!

When I was sixteen, my clairvoyantneighbor told me that within a fewyears, our world would come to anend. I dont know exactly how or whenit will happen. It could happen withina year, but it also might not happenfor another ten. She said, Dont let it

affect you too much. Just do the things you really like doing, but make sure you dont postpone for too long whatsreally important to you. For the first time I realized we are only here for a limitedperiod of time. Until then, my whole life had been out there, ahead of me. Butwhat if something would really happen to our earth or, for that matter, to me?

How would you live your life if you knew you were living on borrowed time?

I did not really believe this doomsday scenario would become true, but it did

affect my future decisions. I opted for a business study that only took a fewyears, and, when finished, I did not take up a nine-to-five job, but worked asa freelancer on projects which only lasted a few weeks at the most. I neverplanned for my long term future. This outlook on life allowed me to be open toanything crossing my path, to do things which were out of the ordinary. I never


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worried about having a career, and I lived forthe day as much as I could.

When I was in my twenties I made a wishlist of all countries I would want to visit, anddecided I would tick off my top ten within afew years. I walked the famous Inca Trail inPeru, visiting the beautiful ruins of the holycity of Machu Picchu. I travelled aroundBrazil, lived on a tropical island for a while,and had the wonderful experience of swim-ming with wild dolphins. I once had theadventure of flying a plane and a helicop-ter myself, and I parachuted down to earth

after a skydive which seemed to last an eternity. It felt absolutely great to makemy dreams come true!

There were times, of course, when I wondered where I was going, especiallywhen most of my friends were in very good jobs, and were starting their ownfamilies.As for me, I was still putting all my energy into new projects, some not all thatfeasible. More than once I had to pick up the pieces and start all over again.I learnt a lot during this time though, and somehow I always managed tobounce back.

While traveling, I became convinced I wanted to do something charitable atleast once in my life. It was the end of the nineties and the Euro was aboutto be introduced. This new currency would replace the local currencies of 12member states of the European Union. I thought it might be an idea to collect


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obsolete coins. Many people liked my plan, but toldme it would never work. To tell you the truth, as a 28-year-old marketingconsultant who did not have any experience what-soever with large projects, I did not know what I wasgetting into. I did not have any knowledge aboutcharitable organizations or money-processing; Iwas not a celebrity nor did I have a large network,and, above all, I did not have any starting budget.However, I could see this project becoming verysuccessful and even securing my personal financialfuture. Lets be honest about it, I did start Coins for Care to make some profitas well.

Turning Coins for Care into a big success was easier said than done, aslack of funds forced me to take an unconventional approach. This wasnot always appreciated by the established charities. Fearful of beingasked to work within much smaller budgets, they were opposed tomy ideas and methods. I found them very difficult to work with and,

having collected millions of Euros myself, Istarted questioning what actually happenedto the money they were receiving, which wors-ened our relationship even further.

I was shocked to discover that Dutch charities have noobligation to register and are not monitored. There was, forexample, no regulating body representing donors in case

of complaints against the charities. Involuntarily, I became a point of contact forthousands of donors. People wrote to me from all over the country: We have aright to know how our donations are spent! and: How do I know what a good charityis?

At the end of 2003, together with a few other like-mindedpeople, I founded the first Dutch Donor Organization(Donateursvereniging). We would try to get an under-standing of how the charity industry works, and makeit more transparent. This would turn out to be a veryslow-moving process.

I feel I have learnt so much in those seven years workingfor Coins for Care and the Donor Organization. Althoughit never was a paid job, it has been such a valuable expe-

P h o t o: P a t He s se

O n t h e c o v e r o f C o m m u n i - c a t i o n m a g a z i n e , A p r i l 2 0 0 4


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rience to have worked with people and organizations whose aim it is to make areal difference.

In 2005 I applied for the European reality TV-show Survivor. I felt I needed toget out of the fundraising limelight for a while. During the selection procedure,I remember saying Two whole months.....! Great! Not realizing that this reality TVshow would put me in a completely different spotlight.

It has been more than a quartercentury since my neighboursdoomsday prediction. The worldis still going round, and I havebeen very lucky, having settled inthe Caribbean after visiting over ahundred countries. I was knightedby the Dutch Queen for Coins forCare, but was taken to court bya few donors when, after sevenyears, I decided to stop volunteer-ing for the Donor Organization. I

was able to gain a lot of experiencein dealing with the media and creat-

ing free publicity, but it still came as a surprise just how much attention wasgenerated by a reality TV-show. I found out the hard way how the corporateworld works, and now I help professional individuals and organizations to real-ize their dreams: by encouraging them to change their perspective on howgoals can be achieved.

This book is about my experiences. Even though you can learn from your ownmistakes, sometimes its easier to learn from someone elses

I got to know myself under extreme circumstances. This book tells my story ofwhat it feels like to follow ones heart and chase dreams. To actually do whatother people deem as impossible. And if my story supports some other peoplealong their path of life, it has been absolutely worth it.

Winners make goals, losers make excuses. is a famous motivationalsaying. Starting every chapter with one of the most commonlyused excuses for NOT doing something, I will tell my tale.

This book should by no means be seen as a guide-book or a to-dolist. I would rather compare it to a buffet with lots of different

Illustration: Ecocomics/LexDirkse

P h o t o: D i r k d e

J o n g


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Il l u s t r a t i o n: E co co mi c s / L e x D i r k

se

dishes: there will be things you wont like, and some of the flavors will be com-pletely new to you. Ultimately, you can pick and choose what youre going toeat. My wish is for everybody to find something to their taste so you go homecontented. Or maybe even, off on a new adventure, realizing your long cher-ished dream.

Who knows? Whats your excuse NOT to follow your dream?


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Excuse 1:I dont dare...

There are people who prefer to say Yes,

and people who prefer to say No.

Those who say Yes are rewarded

by the adventures they have,

and those who say No are rewarded

by the safety they attain.

- Keith Johnstone -

Photo: hraudiovisuals.com
http://hraudiovisuals.com/http://hraudiovisuals.com/


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were aiming their cameras andmicrophones at us, waiting for ourreaction, but they did not say a wordas they were obviously instructednot to .communicate.

Marnix and I looked around thesmall cave again. It was completelyenclosed by the sea. Bamboo sticks,pieces of moist driftwood, and littlebits of string were scattered about.

It was such a cold, dark, unfriendly place, and I could not imagine the two ofus living here, not knowing what was in store for us. How long do you thinkthey will keep us here? I asked, opening the little pots of food. We had abouta pound of rice, and a pound of flour. Marnix and I looked at each other, bothaware of what neither of us dared to say out loud: this amount of food wouldnot keep us going for very long.What do we do now? asked Marnix. The adrenaline rush made us behave likechickens without a head: we kept walking up and down the cave, not knowingwhat to do or where to start. I decided to make a fire, but then realized the oillamp had already gone off. Marnix suggested going for a swim as it was veryhot and we could do with a bit of a cool down, but in the end we opted forexploring the island.When we arrived by boat we had gone past a small beach with palm trees. Ifwe could walk to that beach we might find some coconuts and maybe evenhave a little party! I joked. Marnix thought it was a good idea, so we set off forthe beach.

Our island consisted mainly of bare, slippery rocks, which were almost impos-sible to walk on. It was tough finding our way, and we moved veryslowly, having to wade through water and climb onto rocks again.We spotted a few bushes on a narrow ridge, with delicious lookingred berries and we tried to reach them, but they were impossibleto get to. The camera crew had difficulties keeping up with us,trying to protect their heavy and expensive cameras, while weclambered on. It was hot and we could feel the sun burningour heads. After a while a small boat appeared from roundthe corner which had Jarno on board, one of the membersof the production team. Jarno started shouting at us: Youcannot walk any further! Marnix and I looked up, annoyed,because we did not want to stop as we had been going

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u d i o

v i s u a l s . c o m


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Excuse 1: I dont dare...

P h o t o : h r a u d i o v i s u a l s . c o m

for a few hours already. If it had not been for the camera crew slowing us down,we would have made much faster progress. We looked ahead at the beachwith its palm trees which we could see clearly now We were so close

You are NOT allowed to go ANY further!Jarno yelled again. That beach is forbid-den territory, understood? I suddenlyfelt very irritated, here I was havingwasted my energy at getting nowhere,and now we had these restrictionsbeing put upon us. It just isnt fair! Ifwe are not allowed to look for food,how are we going to survive?Jarno warned us a third time.Annoyed I shouted back: Sorry, canthear you! and I took another step for-ward. Jarno got really mad, his face coloring red: You DIDhear me, and I am telling you NOT to go ANY further!At least its clear whos in charge. Marnix tried to be lighthearted about it, buthe turned around, dejected.

While we walked back to the cave I said to Marnix: What do we do now? Thereis no food in the cave, and we are not free to leave, how on earth are we goingto get something to eat?Do you know how to fish? Marnix asked.Although I had been a vegetarian for years, I reluctantly accepted that our onlyhope of getting anything to eat was to use the fishing hooks we had beengiven.No, you? I replied, looking hopefully at Marnix. I have never, ever done anyfishing in my life. he admitted, and smiled: but, never too old to learn! Andtogether we started to assemble a makeshift fishing rod. I think we needsome kind of bait, I said. Looking around we came across a few snails. Marnixcrushed a snail shell with a big stone, and tried to pin the slimy creature thathad come out of it on the fishing hook. We were both horrified and tried notto think about the barbarity of what we were doing; we just needed to survive.

Just outside the cave was a rocky beach, the water was of a beautiful turquoisecolor. We were lucky immediately: no sooner had we put our home-madefishing rod in the water than we caught something. A fish! we yelled, notbelieving our luck, and we pulled the line out of the water as quickly as wecould. Glistening at the end was a little blue-greenish colored fish of about
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eight centimeters long. Ive only seen fish like that while out snorkeling I said,feeling very sad. And now we have to kill and eat it. Neither of us knew whatto do. Should we remove the hook? We decided to put the fish into a net wehad found earlier, and, while shivering and trembling with horror, Marnix triedto kill it as gently as he could. Unfortunately, it kept wiggling and squirmingand, in a last desperate attempt, Marnix just cut its head off. We stared at thelittle beheaded fish. Marnix was the first to pull himself together, and started toclean off the scales, his knife slipping off the skin. You should scale from tail tohead. I said, remembering from my survival book.

While Marnix was clean-ing our little fish, I went

off to light a fire, which isnot so easy when youare constantly being fol-lowed by a camera. I keptstriking the knife alongthe magnesium stick,over and over again. Itsparkled furiously, butfailed to set fire to mypile of moist driftwood.After a while, the camera

crew got bored of waiting for a flame and turned their camera towards Marnix.I immediately took my chance and stealthily dripped some lamp oil on thewood. A little spark off the magnesium stick set off a big beautiful flame witha loud WOOSHHH!How on earth did that happen? I heard the film crew exclaim, while I put thewok on the fire and added a little cooking oil. Our freshly caught fish was readyto go in the pan, and Marnix was impressed by my fire making skills. I cheateda bit, using the lamp oil I whispered. A little while later the fish was ready toeat, nicely cooked on both sides, and laid on a tray made out of coconut shell.Not sure how to eat the fish, Marnix scraped some meat off the bone with abamboo stick he used as a fork. Sometimes you just need to take that extrastep I told myself, and quietly said goodbye to my vegetarian ideals, while Itook a careful bite. The fish did not really smell like fish, which I thought was

P h o t o: J e roe n v a n A mel

s v oo r t


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not thought this through properly: I had to distinguishmyself somehow. Instantly this became much more of achallenge than whether or not I was going to be selected. Ilooked at the next question which said: Why do you wantto join the program? and I answered truthfully: Actually,I dont, because I normally eat every two hours, and I amnot a group person at all. Hopefully, this would drawsome attention.Well, it worked, because I got through to the secondround in which we were interviewed by the shows production team,lead by presenter Ernst Paul Hasselbach. He tried to find out how persistentI am: We cannot have candidates who want to give up after a few days, heexplained.I thought I would just go along if I would get selected, but I also knew that Iwould leave straight away if hunger would get the better of me. I did not thinkit was wise to share this with the production team, so instead I promised them:I am someone who does not give up easily! Have you heard of Coins for Care?I asked. The next five minutes I spent telling them how I had collected millionsof dollars for charity. It was a struggle at times, and my work was not alwaysappreciated, but I never gave up! I ended my pitch.Next, I saw a psychologist who tried to judge my behavior in a group of people.I told him I am a bit of an outsider, and that food is one of the most importantthings to me. When I am hungry, all boundaries go. I tried to think of an exam-ple: Say, I find a mango on the beach, and I have to divide it evenly among allthe other people, well, by the time Ive figured that one out Im sure I will haveeaten the mango myself, sorry. I sounded a bit embarrassed, and the psychol-ogist looked up to check if I had been serious. Then he jotted down somethingand said: Thank you for your honesty, I think we will leave it at this. Had I toldhim too much? The show was looking for people with strong characters, especially person-alities which were likely to clash, and I think I fitted this profile perfectly, asI made it to the last round: the medical test. I had lots of wires attached tomy upper body, and under the scrutinizing eye of a doctor I had to work outon an exercise bike. Having a bit of a cold and worried they would not think

P h o t o: J e r o

e n v a n A m e l s v o o r t


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me fit enough, I had eaten a lot of vitaminpills, and when we handed in a sample ofour urine, my tube stood out fluorescentlyyellow between the bottles of my fellowcandidates, how embarrassing! Fortu-nately, I did pass the test.

Finally, our swimming skills were tested. The production team told us that a lot ofthe activities during the show would takeplace in the water, so it was very import-ant we could swim reasonably well. Thetest took place in a tiny swimming poolwhich was about three by five meters.Just as I started to wonder how they weregoing to assess us in such a tiny pool, itbecame clear this was not about swim-ming. Every candidate was asked to swimup and down a couple of times and thenclimb out of the pool. Can you climb inand out of the water one more time? thecamera assistant asked while the camera kept running; it was nothing morethan a bikini contest!

Being part of a group is not your strong point, you can be such a loner some-times. I think you will need to find another way to stand out. One of my bestfriends was giving me advice: What are you going to do? You need to think ofsomething that makes you invaluable to the rest of the group. I knew she wasright. Well, fishing is not my thing, I said bluntly, Im not very strong physically,and my social skills are not up to scratch either.But I jumped up, once, when I was visiting the native Maya people ofGuatemala and Belize, they taught me a lot about their plants, some of whichhave healing abilities. What if I try to find out everything I can about the plantsof Malaysia? That knowledge would surely be of some value wouldnt it?. Myfriend agreed this was a very good idea, and I immediately set out to work. Imade a phone call to the Royal Botanical Gardens and was given the name andnumber of a tropical plants expert. He agreed to meet me, and kindly showedme around the gardens himself. I know very little about edible plants, he said,but I will tell you everything I know. Desperately, I tried to keep up with him,memorizing what he told me, but all the plants seemed to look the same. Itried to focus on the basics like the shape of the leaves of an edible turnip.

Photo: Jeroen van Amelsvoort


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After a few hours I realized it was simply impossible to gain all knowledge nec-essary in such a short space of time, for surviving on a deserted island (andamong a group of people).I also searched the Internet for someone with an extensive knowledge of howto survive in the wild, and posted the following message: Im going to spendsome time on a desert island, does anyone have any useful tips? A Belgiansurvival expert wrote back to me saying: Are you, by any chance, a candidateon the Survivor TV-show? I was on the show a few years ago, and I think I canteach you a thing or two. He was willing to help under the condition not topublish his name, as he was officially not allowed to talk with new Survivorcandidates.A few days later we met up in the Belgian Ardennes, a beautiful mountainousregion, covered in dense forests and steep valleys, the perfect place for a sur-vival trip. The survival expert was going to be my guide for the day, and the firstthing he showed me were different ways of making a campfire without anymatches. Sadly, I was hopeless at remembering the various techniques. Whyis it so hard. I shouted, frustrated by the complexity of it all, but he patientlycontinued to show me how to tie some branches together with a few easyknots, which would be useful for building a hut or a tripod above the fire. Youwill definitely be able to do this. he said confidently.

What I enjoyed the most was making dough by mixing water and flour. Whenyou mould this to a stick, and hold it above the fire, you will have a lovely pieceof bread in no time! my survival expert said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.You will be given flour and rice, but this is by no means enough to survive on,so you must get your hands on anything edible in order to feed yourselves. This will include bugs and stuff! He smiled, and then, to my astonishment,

P h o t o : J e r o e n v a n A m e l s v o o r t


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got a bag out which contained a variety of frozen grasshoppers and beetles,and once they had been defrosted he started roasting them above the fire.You can eat the beetles whole, but you will need to remove the grasshopperslegs and wings, he explained while putting a beetle in his mouth, chewingenthusiastically.

I nearly felt sick. Come on! I said to myself, This is part of surviving! andbravely I picked up a beetle and a big grasshopper. According to some peoplethey have a nutty flavor, but I would not know, I just tried to get them downas quickly as I could, never really tasting them and shivering as I attempted toswallow this unusual snack. I dont think its too bad, I said with a quiveringvoice. The guide looked at me expectantly, Do you want another one? Theresplenty! but I thought I had learnt enough for now, and politely declined hisoffer. These do taste a bit spongy, I suppose its because theyve only just beendefrosted, he apologized, but I assure you, when you roast them fresh theyreally are delicious.


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Wow, I have learnt so much already! I said to my guide when we were prepar-ing to leave. I was trying to take in what he had told me, but I still could notvisualize those damned knots! Can you tell me your three most important tipsfor being on the Survivor show? I asked him instead. He thought for a momentand then said: If you are ever offered a proper bed, dont take it, you HAVE torefuse it, no matter what! Secondly, take some vitamin pills with you: you wontget a lot of nutrients in, and every single pill will help you to stay strong physi-cally. And finally, just let it happen, go with the flow and enjoy the experience!Back in the car, driving home, I got really excited at the thought of joining theexpedition. I thought about everything I had been taught that day, about theedible plants in the botanical gardens, and the advice my friends had givenme. But then it dawned on me: I would have to cross my own borders, I wouldhave to push myself further than I had ever done before, I could feel my confi-dence seeping away, no longer feeling so sure anymore. It felt as if the grass-hopper and the beetle were still crawling around in my insides. I struggled tokeep them in for the rest of the journey.


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Excuse 4:I wouldnt know where to start

A journey of athousand milesbegins with a first step.

- Old Chinese proverb -


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Birth of an ideaDid you know that once the euro has been introduced, you wont be able tochange your old foreign coins? I was surprised when a friend told me this, afew years before the actual launch of the new currency in 2002. All left overchange will become useless by then! he said, and suggested we should setup a company to collect all this soon-to-be obsolete money. If necessary wecould even drive around Europe, getting the best exchange rates he addedenthusiastically.I thought about that big jar of coins I had

at home, filled up to the rim with all kindsof foreign money. I expected to use theseup one day while holidaying abroad. Butfor some reason that never happenedand the jar was now so full it nearly over-flowed. It was inconceivable that thismoney would lose its value, and I couldnot imagine many people were awareof this; maybe my friends idea was not

so bad after all.We tried to think of a strategy, but the longer we racked our brains, the moreunrealistic our plan seemed to be. Would people be willing enough to lookfor their spare holiday coins and hand them over in return for only a few euro-cents? Surely, they would be put off by the idea of us making a profit! Aftersome research I found that major banks only exchange foreign bills, but GWK Travelex would accept as little as four currency units, however charging anincredible twenty five percent commission; and even they were consideringcanceling the service as the exchange process was too elaborate and profits

were low! In short, the idea of collecting foreign coins seemed interesting, butwas not viable commercially. Still, it kept lingering in the back of my mind.

On my return to the Netherlands in 1996, in order to take care of my youngerbrother, I again picked up my resolution to do something charitable, usingmy South America experiences. I spent hours leafing through the job pagesat the Mdecins Sans Frontires offices but became a little disillusioned whenI saw that every available vacancy, including the volunteer projects, seemedto require a medical background. I am a marketing consultant, I told them,

do you think I could be of any use to your organization? They gave me thesame answer as I would also get from all the other charities: You could handout flyers at the shopping mall if you want... but I felt that, with my experience,skills and education, I was better suited and qualified for a completely differentkind of volunteer work.

Dec 1 9 98


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As I began to lose my enthusiasm, I shared my experience with others andfound that these stories were common and many people, although keen,struggled to find a way to be of any help and did not know where to start.

One day, a friendly old man rang my doorbell, he was adoor-to-door charity collector asking for a small dona-tion, and we got to talking: My wife and I have beencollecting for Simavi for years he said and his voicequivered. But now my wife has fallen ill, and Im tryingto find someone who can take over for her. He lookedme straight in the eye: Is that something you wouldconsider? I have to admit door-to-door collectinghad never been high on my priority list, but eventhough I did not know what Simavi stood for, I simply

could not refuse this good man; besides, I had beentelling myself for a long time I should do something charitable, well, here wasmy chance.Door-to-door collection was an amazing experience. Even on a dark, cold andrainy winters evening, people were very happy to open the door to me anddonated generously into the collection box. Not just one guilder (like I alwaysdid) but two or even five guilders! It did not seem anybodys concern whatSimavi is dedicated to (I had learnt by now that they organize medical trans-port in Africa, but that was about all I knew). I met one lady who, clearly embar-rassed, admitted the organizations ideals did not appeal to her and thereforeshe would not donate, but she was the only one who appeared to carefullyconsider her donations. This experience taught me it actually does not matter what you are askingmoney or assistance for, the difference lies in who you are asking and how.Most people are very keen to be of any help, as long as it is made simple forthem.

I collected over three hundred guilders in two evenings which was, accordingto a very happy Simavi coordinator, a highly respectable score! Still, I did notfeel I had made a huge difference in the scheme of things. I had dealt with

much larger sums of money working on com-mercial projects, and I was convinced I couldachieve a lot more.


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A few weeks after the brainstorming session on how to collect the soon-to-be worthless foreign coins, my boyfriend and I were in southern India.We were having lunch on a beautiful beach which had a very relaxed atmos-phere, allowing me to think quietly about my future plans. I was looking for

a new project to earn myself some proper money, but on the other handI still felt I should do something a bit more socially beneficial, not just formy own benefit. Suddenly it hit me: why not combine the two ideals? Theproblem with collecting coins commercially is how to get people to handover their leftover change I explained. But what if we collect the coins forcharity instead for ourselves? That incentive might encourage people. Andinstead of door-to-door collections, we could just put the collection boxesin shops and banks, plus I am sure banks will be happy to exchange thecoins for charity!

I could not stop daydreaming about this simple but ingenious idea. The eurointroduction was the perfect timing for this one-off project. Our plan wouldbe straightforward and simple to explain and, not asking for any cash butcollecting something that had already lost its value anyway, we would notcompete with money being regularly donated to charity. Exchanging the col-lected coins, we would raise an enormous sum for a variety of good causes,and I would be surprised if we would not make a small profit ourselves. I wasso inspired by this plan, and could not wait to get started when we got back.

My poor boyfriend did not hear me talk about much else during the rest of ourholiday!


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How do you eat an elephant?One bite at a time.Once back home in the Netherlands I immediately started putting the ideainto action. Unfortunately, my friend could not join me, I have a busy career,a young family, and simply no time for another project, he admitted regret-fully. He did, however, like the charity version of his idea and encouraged me tocarry on developing it further.My to-do list seemed never ending. Where do I start? I repeatedly asked myself,

but discussing my plans with others helped me to focus, enabling me to iden-tify my first steps. I thought the best approach would be creating a partner-ship between the charities, who would decide what the money would be usedfor. The shops, where the money would be collected, the banks who wouldexchange the coins, and an advertising agency taking care of the publicity. These were four enormous projects, in addition to which a feasibility studyneeded to be carried out, and the non-profit foundation established.

Many different parties needed to be contacted, but they all seemed inter-

twined to such a degree that I couldnt separate the trees from the forest. Ialmost started to doubt I would ever succeed. However, being self-employedI had taught myself to think in terms of projects instead of problems, andfound that it is a lot easier when you divide a big, elaborate project into bite-size tasks. Therefore, I was able to reassure myself that by the time I got goingthe rest would fall into place.

One of my first priorities was to decide which charities would benefit from themoney that would be raised. Once I had a charity onboard I could approach

the shops, banks, and advertising agencies. I decided to propose my plans tothree organizations, each with a different focus: children, the environment,and lastly an organization concentrating on international aid, as Somethingfor Everybody seemed appropriate.Not being familiar with any charity, I randomly picked three well establishednames: Plan International, The World Wildlife Fund, and Mdecins Sans Fron-tires. I struggled immediately, as it seemed impossible to arrange a meetingwith any of them. Naively I had assumed they would jump at my fundraisingideas, but in reality they were approached frequently, and were in a position

to be very selective about whom they invited. This was not made any easierby the fact that I was apprehensive about explaining my plan over the phone,in fear of them stealing my ideas. Nevertheless, I needed to give them someinformation in order to attract their interest.

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My charity of choice would be determined by the percentage of donated fundsthat were actually going to be spent on the projects instead of on overheadcosts. I had my first meeting with Plan International who promote child rightsand fight child poverty. Before seeing them I had gone through their annualreport thoroughly, which had raised questions on the cost percentage details. The meeting was nothing like I had imagined: instead of being very happy atseeing me and answering my questions, they were downright suspicious.

Why have you come to us with your ideas? What do you want us to do exactly?It would not be the first time I was welcomed by such hostility, as none of thecharities seemed to have any procedure in place for a situation in which theywere offered a project. However, once I had set out my ideas their initial appre-hension turned into enthusiasm, and they were genuinely interested in how Iwas going to implement this plan. Unfortunately I did not have all the answersto their questions, this being the exact reason why I had approached them.Would you be interested in launching this project together? I asked them.Quite rightly the charities did not jump at my plan, cautiously wondering whoEsther Jacobs was and which other charities and shops would join in. Pleasecome back when you have finalized your plans and found other partners,was their friendly but definite answer, and I was back at square one. I needthe charities to set up the organization and find other partners, but they dontwant to join before everything is already in place! I grumbled to my friends.

As a matter of fact, I actually did not have time at all to get engaged in a ven-ture like this. I simply needed to look for commercial projects which wouldgenerate some income, as there were bills to be paid. A lot of my time wasspent on taking up new assignments and writing many proposals, of whichonly a few resulted in a paid job. Still, the coin/charity scheme kept playing onmy mind and I knew I should at least have one more go at it.

What kept me determined were the numerous positive reactions I receivedwhenever I told anyone about the project, and I boldly decided to set up afoundation, which allowed me to at least tick off an item from my list, and thisat least gave lots of positive energy. Finding a suitable name was a challenge:It should be easy to remember, have an international ring to it, and also saysomething about the nature of the scheme and charity, I explained to friendswhile trying to come up with something good. We settled for Coins for Care,


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a catchy name which did not need any further clarifi-cation. A friendly attorney, who I had found throughthe yellow pages, helped me free of charge- to set upthe foundation, and I could not help but wonder howsimple it was to start a new charity.

The next job on the list was finding a bank that waswilling to exchange all foreign cash to euros. Dontexpect the banks to cooperate just like that, myfriends warned me, but naively I was sure all bankswould be very willing to help (after all it would be forcharity) and I would simply pick the bank offering thebest deal.I could not have been more wrong: the banks werenot interested at all in exchanging the collected coins.Firstly, our policy is not to trade any foreign currency,a spokesperson explained patiently over the phone,its a nasty job; there is simply too much work involvedwhich is not worth the profit. Secondly, your timing isreally bad; we will be up to our ears in exchanging ourDutch guilders to euros, let alone foreign money.

If the banks did not want to help me out I wouldcount and sort the money myself, I concluded, it couldnot be that difficult. I started looking up informa-tion on money counting machines and ended up atthe manufacturer of ScanCoin. Unfortunately, thesehighly priced machines could only deal with a limitednumber of currencies, and jammed when processinglarge varieties of foreign coins.

Even if I had been able to pay for them I could not have purchased a ScanCoin,as all the machines, no matter how old, had been snapped up by the Dutchbank, the Royal Mint, and the other commercial banks to cope with the count-ing of all the soon-to-be-obsolete Dutch money: these were busy times forcoin processors and they could not help me out.

I summarized the results of a years hard work and concluded I had at leastcreated the foundation, although my original plan had included four keycomponents: charities, banks, shops and an advertising agency. Before decid-ing whether to join or not, the charities needed an outlined plan with somereputable partners and, most importantly, a solution for exchanging the for-


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eign cash currencies; and without the support of thecharities and banks it would not make any sense toapproach a big retail chain or an advertising agency.I had ended up in a road-block. Was this the end forCoins for Care?

If something needs to be perfect,

it wont have time to grow.

- Coachingskalender -


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Pushy or ambitious?President Aristide looked up when anunfamiliar, scruffy looking, young blondwalked into his spacious offices. It was1996, he had only just returned fromexile to Haiti and was preparing for a visitfrom Bill Clinton. The CIA had taken oversecurity of his palace, and even the twoAssociated Press journalists interviewing

him, could not hide their astonishmentwhen I (because that blond girl was me)walked in just like that. We had sepa-rated only one hour ago, and they hadnot thought I would succeed in enteringthe palace without an introduction, presscard or passport. Their interview withthe president had come to an end, andthey said: This is Esther, a backpacker all

the way from the Netherlands. We shookhands with the president and, after I hadtaken a picture of the three men together,I followed the two reporters through thelong palace corridors back to the outsideworld.

The day before, I had arrived at the Hai-tian airport; I had no plan, no reservation

booked, not even a travel guide. I askeda taxi driver if he knew of any cheap hos-tels. He looked at me, bewildered, andsaid: There are no hostels here, we dontget any tourists because of the Americanboycott!I asked him how much it was to takeme into Port-au-Prince, but I thoughthis asking price was much too high and

decided to wait and see what wouldhappen. About fifteen minutes later thesame taxi driver came by again: Just getin, I know some people who might beable to help you. I got in the car which

P a i n t e d b o o t o f a t r u c k .

Ca mera - a s s is t a n t .

V i e w f r o m t h e p a l a c e .

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stopped a few moments later in front of twocursing American journalists. They did notpay me any attention as they had just foundout not all of their expensive equipment hadarrived, and what had was badly damaged.While they were frantically trying to recovertheir belongings, the taxi driver inquiredhesitantly if they could give me a ride intotown. They glanced around and noddedbriefly. I was just left standing there, feeling

a bit lost, but finally they invited me to take a seat in their taxi van. When wedrove off they asked me where I was heading. I dont know, I answered, andthey gave me a puzzled look. But what are you doing here then? I explainedI had bought a ticket which allowed me to travel the Caribbean for a month,and I had thought Haiti might be an interesting destination. Silence fell in thecar. Interesting was clearly not a legitimate explanation for being in one of theworlds poorest countries, which had been in a state of civil war for years, washeavily boycotted by the US, and completely ignored by tourists. After intro-ducing themselves, Chris and Fernando invited me to join them in their hotel. They offered me one of their spare rooms, which had been reserved for a fewcolleagues arriving at a later stage, and I ended up in the most luxurious hotelof Haiti, in a beautiful room with a stunning view across Port-au-Prince.

As I did not have any plans, Chris and Fernando asked me if I would be inter-ested in joining them on their visit to the presidential palace for an interviewwith president Aristide. It was a chance of a lifetime. The next morning we setoff for the palace, which had received a fresh layer of paint in honor of Clin-tons visit. The majestic building, virgin white, stood out in huge contrast to theimpoverished, dirty town surrounding it. Waste collection seemed unheard ofand the rubbish from the richer parts of town was simply dumped in the poorslums. President Clinton would arrive by helicopter and, to leave nothing tochance, the road over which he would fly was newly tarred. His impression ofHaiti would be a far cry from reality.

Just before arriving at the palace Chris andFernando received a phone call, and they weretold the rooms they had booked in anotherhotel for the rest of their crew, were not avail-able after all. Time was running out as roomswere going quickly, now journalists from allover the world were beginning to pour in, toawait Clintons visit. Seeing their dilemma, I

M a n y p eo p l e l ea v e t he rura l

a rea s f or t own.

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offered to go to the hotel and sort the roomsout, after which I would come back in orderto join them for the interview. Obviouslyrelieved they said: Make sure youll be backwithin half an hour, otherwise we wont beable to get you in. Then we approachedthe first security post and a dark suited CIAofficer checked our car. We were allowedthrough, under the condition that thedriver and I would be back within fiveminutes. Chris and Fernando instructed me on the hotel roomsbut remained doubtful I would be able to resolve the situation, as their ownpeople back in the US had not been very successful so far. I am sure they didnot expect to see me back soon.

It was only after the interview, while walking back through the heavily securedpalace, that I was able to tell Chris and Fernando what had happened. How onearth did you get through security? They asked me. And did you manage toget the hotel rooms back?I started with the hotel part and told them how I had convinced the ownerthat I had been sent specifically to correct the errors made by the hotel, andthat I had been instructed not to leave until the rooms had been reconfirmed.Apparently, I had made such a resolute impression that he had been very quickto rectify the situation, and the driver and I had hurried back to the palace.

The same CIA agent from earlier was not going to let us in again: Lady, yourenot on the guest list and you dont have a press card. I cant let you go through,he said firmly. But you just saw me with the Associated Press journalists? I justneeded to get something organized back at the hotel, and now theyre waitingfor me to carry out the interview, I insisted. The officer repeated he neededto see a press card, but he appeared a little less stringent and I persistentlyrepeated my argument. After a few minutes the good man realized I was notgoing to give up and he said, warily: Miss, if I were to let you through, youll bestopped by my colleagues at the next post anyway, theres not point really, isthere? but I eagerly maintained I wanted to give it a try.

To my excitement, I was allowed to pass to the next checkpoint where I wasasked the same questions. Your name is not on our list, you dont have a presscard, not even a passport. Sorry, but we cant allow you in. I told the guard I waswith the Associated Press, that we had an arranged meeting with presidentAristide, and that my two colleagues were already inside. Finally, I convincedhim it was fine; why else had his colleague let me go through? Reasoning thus

W i t h C h r i s a n d F e r n a n d o : b e a u - t i f u l v i e w f r o m o u r h o t e l .


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By word of mouthI was being pushed from pillar to post trying to find a solution for processingthe money. It might have just been easier to get rid of me, or maybe it was wellmeant, however, I was put in contact with a lot of different people, which pre-vented me from just giving up when things got tough. Another advantage wasthat having to pitch my ideas many times made me more fluent and convinc-ing and, although there still was no direct answer to my problems, the reac-tions I received were always positive and enthusiastic. I was strengthened inmy belief that I was doing the right thing which helped me to remain upbeat.

Various money transporters such as Brinks, not being able to help out, recom-mended Coin Co International, a small UK based family firm specializing in theconversion of foreign coins. In hindsight this recommendation proved to bethe turning point.

Heaps of MoneyJohn Baker, owner of Coin Co, confirmed by phone that his company sortedand processed foreign money.Currency from countries all over the world! he said proudly. He was very inter-ested in my story and invited me to come round and see for myself how theyworked.I decided to combine my visit to Coin Co with a stay at Amir and Tanyas, ownersof The Games Company, in order to keep costs at a minimum.

John was a big, jovial man with a friendly face. With his deep voice, beard, androaring laugh he reminded me a bit of Santa! His wife Doreen was lovely too,and nothing like the ruthless business woman I had expected to meet. They showed me around their company: from the outside a nondescript, largewarehouse on an industrial estate on the outskirts of London. Inside were rows

Its better to have a good ideagenerating enthusiasm,than a brilliant idea

which inspires no one.


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and rows of shelves, stacked with bagsand crates full of coins from all overthe world. It made me slightly nervoushaving such large quantities of casharound me. Dont worry, youll get usedto it soon enough, John said, sensingmy reaction.After a few days you dont see it asmoney anymore.People at long tables were busily sort-ing out the coins.

An experienced person will do about 40 kilos a day, explained John, whereasa beginner wont do more than 10. Some employees were well passed theirretirement age, there were people with slight disabilities, and there werepeople in wheelchairs, but everybody was clearly enjoying their work, andthey showed me proudly what they were doing. A lot of pensioners love doingthis job, said John. Were also very popular with coin-collectors. But do youknow who suits this job best? John gave me a wry smile: Managers sufferingfrom executive burnout!

Coin Co started as a hobby whenthe airline John worked for wentbust, said Doreen. They hadthis big box of foreign coins andnobody seemed to be interestedin it, so John asked if he could takeit home. The whole family had gotinvolved in sorting the money, andevery time they went on holidaythey took some coins with them. I

smiled at the idea of John, Doreen, and the kids sitting around the kitchentable, sifting through a big pile of coins.Coin Co was a unique company and did not have any direct competitors inEurope, which was why their client base kept increasing: Airlines gatheringhuge amounts of change through tax-free sales, British charities collectingforeign coins, and even the Royal Mail who got rid of their exotic currencies inthis manner.But our most unusual customer must be the parking authorities of some bigcities in West Germany. John grinned A lot of their Polish and East German cus-tomers have found that some Polish coins are of a similar size to the GermanMarks, and they use them for paying at the parking meters, which means theyare virtually parking for free! The parking authorities had come to John in


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order to get at least some earnings out of these Polish Zlotys, even thoughthey were only worth a fraction of the Mark.

According to John, dealing with these amounts of coinage had its own prob-lems and was not as simple as it seemed: You cant just load up a truck withmoney, he said, the sheer weight would break the axle! There goes the idea oftraveling through Europe, picking up coins along the way, I thought.

Besides, no insurance will be prepared to cover the risk, theyll regard it ashigh-risk money transport. This had never even crossed my mind, I had beenso busy telling everyone the coins would be worthless and had compared it toscrap metal instead And also, John continued, when you arrive at the Span-ish border, for example, with a car full of Pesetas, they wont let you through!You see, in some countries exporting coins is forbidden by law, although theyhardly ever do checks on that. But, when you try to import them back intothe country, theyll say: sorry, we cant accept your money, you shouldnt havetaken it out of the country in the first place.


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Coin Co now held over 20 years of experience with coin conversion and hadpartners worldwide. Doreen explained to me that even if Central Banks werenot interested in the loose change, local banks would, avoiding having to buyfrom their federal counterparts. They assured me that even obsolete curren-cies would bring in a bit of money through Coin Cos contacts with commer-cial banks, coin collectors, and scrap metal dealers.

John and Doreens story made me realize I should not even attempt to pro-cess huge amounts of foreign coins myself. I had been convinced it was a job waiting to be done by a specialist. After a year of investigating, Coin Coseemed not only the best option, it actually was the only option I had. John


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What is your excuse?

Whos That Girl?

Photo by www.eefphotography.com

Esther Jacobs (The Netherlands, 1970) is an international (TEDx) speaker and (co)

author of 21 books. Without a budget, this No Excuses Lady managed to raise 16

million for charity; an accomplishment for which she was knighted by the Dutch queen.

Esther gave more than 1000 keynotes, inspiring entrepreneurs and decision makers

worldwide to take control and transform their challenges into opportunities. As a

digital nomad she has lived, worked and played in over a 100 countries and contin-

ues to travel.

Esther has been on the European Survivor TV show, is an important influencer on

social media and was featured in the international media over 500 times.

Check her website to attend her next presentation or workshop, to hire her as a

speaker or to book a one-to-one RESULTant session.

Turn it around.

Get it done.

Feel alive!

www.estherjacobs.info

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What's your

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