Who am I? I have never really been sure how to answer that. When you ask people who they are, some will tell you what they do for a living.

I can tell you what I do for a living. I am a teacher of English as a second language, and I enjoy my job very much. It gives me opportunities that most never get, to work in different countries and experience different cultures. As a British bloke in his mid twenties, I have a mid of experiences from my life that I may (or may not) talk about. I have had the good fortune to work with students from 6 different continents (there is little call for English lessons in the Antarctic, apparently the penguins feel they are doing just fine, thank you very much).

I haven’t always enjoyed such work. In my I originally trained to degree level in a construction based subject and have worked in that field. I might blog about that one day, but probably not today.

But of course, I am only a teacher part of the time, but I am who I am all of the time. Or, at least, I think I am. Other answer can be that people say they are a family person, perhaps a parent. I am not a family person. Don’t get me wrong, I have every respect for those who are, but it isn’t really for me. It used to be, I wanted a family, a wife and kids. But people change, or to put it better, life changes people. So perhaps who we are is the sum of what life has done to us and our reactions to it? That seems fair, and explains for the diversity of people. I’ll go with that for now. And what has life done to me? Well that would take a while, as it would for everyone. In short, it has given me the chance to be in places like those photographed below, to work in places and with people I have loved. It has also taken away from me many things I loved and wanted, but then given me the chance to build something new.

I suppose the simplest answer to who am I is “I am happy, and cannot complain at that.”

So, why do I write? I have never claimed to be a great writer, in fact I would argue quite the opposite. Nor do I claim to present views that mirror anyone other than my own. I intend simply to present arguments that float around in my mind with, I hope, some degree of intelligence and make suggestions as I see fit.

I would not suggest anyone follow me or my ideas, you, the reader, are not the intended audience of them. I am. This is a diary of thoughts, a collection of ideas and my own frustrations. I would not suggest that these thoughts will be particularly well organised, or follow much structure, as the inside of my head does not allow for this. And I write because I want to understand myself, this is a kind of therapy for me. I might be happy, but that doesn’t mean I’m not rather screwed up in my own little way.