Ego I.

My name is Vladimir Pashkov. I am Entrepreneur, Dreamer, Father and an Egoist. I live for myself. I Learn everyday. I Don’t read news, I DON’T care about mediocracy. I DON’T take NO from someone who’s not authorized to say YES. I DON’T believe in dogma of religion or state. I DON’T like excuses. I DON’T like bell pepper and mosquitos.

My true belief is that if I am self sufficient, I can make a real difference around Myself. If I am happy, people around me are. If I know, I can teach others. If I DO, I can tell my story, and yes, I DO.
I DO Love life. I DO love people. I DO love independence. I DO Love to travel. I DO love freedom of everything. I DO love the ocean. I DO love my family. I DO love sushi and humming birds. And the Best thing, I DO things just because I CAN!

That’s my short story. Hang around to see it evolve.

LONG evolving story…….

My childhood. Fun, Joy, Exploration

I was born in 1979 in Kazakhstan. Way before Borat put KZ on map. Actually it was Soviet Union back then. I still remember how my granny and I stood in line to exchange food coupons on bread, some lean cow bones, butter and a bottle of vodka. Vodka was a real commodity back then. I was at public school and really didn’t like it. SU was at the transition stage and political and other types of prisoners were leaving their cells and bringing their jail language to the streets. All kids at school spoke jail language. Kids made community fights between schools and areas of town. No idea why. I didn’t like it. Ipreffered to hang out with my friend and next door neighbor. His mother worked at some chemistry factory so we had an access to different type of chemicals and knowledge. So while my class mates were kicking crap out of each other, my friend and I had “Fun”. We were making home made explosives home built radios and other cool stuff. At some point we realized that if we had money, fun would be on a fast track for us. I asked my dad how to make photos (photography). He took time and tought me how to take pictures, use equipment, chemicals and gave me all his supplies (left overs from illegal dissident book reprints). My friend got some Check magazines with centerfold of half naked celebrities. I took my dad’s camera, table lamps and started to reproduce those pictures in the darkness of our only bathroom/toilet. That was my first REAL BUSINESSES. I was 11 back then. We made a shit load of money with my friend. More than we could spend. We didn’t know cheap women and alcohol back then. We got busted several times by police and local “Old women” competition. They were selling sunflower seeds and didn’t like us on the corner selling Beatles photos and naked Paula Abdul pictures. Then we made radios based on magazines from my dad’s libabries, and we collected empty bottles. Not because we had to, just because we could! We were rich. We just didn’t know what to do with money. We were disassembling car batteries destroying our clothes and health to melt plumb inside for fishing weight and sold on market. We never wanted to be the same as our aggressive classmates. After an unfortunate experiment I spent 2 months in hospital with an explosive wound. I was lucky, however it put an end on my career as pyro technician.

Youth

My first girlfriend was 17 when I lost virginity at 12. Great experience and I figured out that I like to hang out with “older” chicks and they liked me. I barely finished school thanks to my grandmother. She used to be a etcher at one of schools and when my life in high school where I studied became unbearable and my Chemistry and Physics teachers told me that I won’t graduate because I didn’t respect them and their manner of teaching, my granny to a break from retirement and I finished high school. It was a must to go to a University. So my Grand mom wanted me to go to University of foreign languages and my dad wanted me to go to law school. I didn’t like either. I loved computers. I was welcomed to many PC chop shops and knew how to make stuff work. With the money I were making I paid for my tuition and rarely showed up in University. I bought my first CD-R drive  for 900$ and started to copy software, but good money I was making recording mixes for DJs. Then I got my first REAL job. With salary. I was interpreter, PC fixer, plumber and do it aALLer. That was a good time because I met some really hot girl that worked there as well and after quite passionate nights we decided to move together. I was 19. 10 months later I received a crying little creature that we named Polina. My daughter. Now she speaks 3 languages, smart, beautiful and my best travel companion and dive buddy. I didn’t know it back then.

Universities were easy for me. I was showing up just for exams and passed them and tremendously improved my cheating techniques. That was the time when my best friend immigrated to Canada and I thought that it’s a great move and now it’s possible. So My wife and I applied for immigration. Only she could qualify. Remember, I like older girls.

With a help of my computer skills and I got a new job. The best full time job I have ever had. A security guard in the US Embassy. I loved 12 hour night shifts. I was reading Microsoft books, improved my English and hung around good people and had an opportunity talk with IT guys from USAID and the Embassy. I knew that one day I will work there as an IT guy. Meanwhile I went to UAE and bought palm pilots and successfully sold them to office guys, explaining how it will improve their productivity. I loved Palm. One day IT manager from USAID saw me with my laptop> Next day I am at my “Dream Job”. Steady income, paid off apartment, wife, kid and no future…

My immigration papers where ready by then and it was time to go to PARIS! The only problem….I had to get a Visa to go there and it wasn’t easy to get.. When I came to French Embassy, my documents along with passport where thrown at my face saying that Canada has nothing to do with France and we have no matter to be in France. Some gray hair at 22 and lots of money we ended up with 2 separate business visas. I was going to be a driver for a month and my wife as a waitress or cabaret dancer… I am not sure. Anyway. One stop further to Freedom.

France was kind to me and weird. Jimmy Morrison Tomb, Red Lights District,  tiniest room out of all I’ve seen in my life, and a nice red haired immigration officer that chopped my papers with “APPROVED” sign. First time when I could fit my 23 years of life in 4 travel bags. First departure without all possessions accumulated. Scary and painful. I was full steam ahead to my dream.

to be continued…