Ambiance (fr)

The spaces in which I work (or in which anyone works) varies greatly; from desk crammed in the corner of a bedroom, to park bench, cafe, cubicle, community table, airport wall squat, or bar stool counters. As a result, I have begun to wonder how much the 'ambiance' of the space you deem for work matters.

In college, I considered studying organizational workplace design which combines architecture, spatial planning, and behavioral theories into one. These concepts are used by many progressive companies seeking to design more efficient, productive work spaces which foster better collaboration, visibility, creativity, cooperation, and sense of community for their employees. Often contemporary in their application (we often hear about it from the likes of companies like Apple, Google, and yes even IBM in the good old days), I have wondered how much these thoughtful designs actually do contribute to higher morale, productivity and creativity.

Yep that's a Starbucks below - looks like a Palace and still free wifi !!

After 20 years, I find that I work better when my space changes, sometimes to include a flair for formality, as if the occasional nonsensical thinking I do can find no place here or there, and as if my 'professional' ideas would not flow as freely without the proper 'ambiance' to induce them. Other times, my best work ideas float about amidst the buzzing in and out of people in a nearby cafe or my own living room.

Know and stick with what works for you, but trying something new just might surprise you too. There's always the hallway in your corporate office to try.  Just imagine the looks you'll get squatting with a laptop on the carpet near the elevator.

Its Late, Why Write

At the start of these entries is my need to feel the words before they make it to the page, first floating them around in my mind until they land just right. Its late and I need sleep, yet I write it anyway. Today I went to Place Vendome, a square I never frequent.  Its the type of place you can imagine they have daily fashion photo shoots in, because it just has that vibe; the Ritz hotel in one corner, three other corners with perfect palace storefronts, grand flair, and well to be fair, its trashless with no dog poop in sight.

Inside, leading up to the office lobby, was this georgous staircase that made me want to continue circling the levels. 15 minutes later, just as I was drawing suspicion, I 'found' the lobby. I can only imagine sometimes what the French think of me dawdling around in courtyards, interesting staircases, and characteristic doorways. Wherever your moments of simple curiosity take you, I hope you enjoy them fully.

Massive misses

Recently I was using a Paris office that was nestled in an area of the city I had never wandered.  It was near the US embassy and other embassies and government buildings, as well as a high end shopping district, the likes of which I had never seen nor really need to.  

One thing I love about walking to work or walking anywhere in Paris, are the things before you to see if people just take the time to notice them. This park below is not well known by most, and tucked away on a small side street that barely makes the map. Wandering is very under-rated.

Most of the time, I watch Parisians walk - and they do with massive doses of purpose and a sense of urgency - and I wonder if they realize how much they miss.  From what I can tell, they don't seem to appreciate my philosophical stance on the matter, so I go about my business in my room with a view, sipping tea, and working on my French 'uh' sound (which they like to do a lot).  It works. I'm blending in....

To be a Hungarian



Several weeks ago I was working in Budapest. Normally, my hotel view isn't much to talk about; however, the windows on the main floor of the Intercontinental afforded a lovely view of the Chain Bridge and former royal palace across the Danube river.  I visited this view often during my stay.

 

The group meetings included a few Americans, a Polish man, a German man, and four Budapest locals. And as tends to happen when among European colleagues, there are always surprises...

 

First off, I am not certain what I think of Hungarian food in total. While I was thrilled with the abundance of items that included a version of beet root (e.g. beet root sauce, beet root shavings, beet vouloute etc.), I was equally puzzled by the abundance of mystery soft cheese filling used in the sandwiches I observed over lunch. What was it exactly? 

 

Then, there's the fact that I've technically been pronouncing the city name incorrectly all these years (as if I use it so often, which of course I don't). It is Budapest, pronounced like "Buda peshst".  You can thank the Hungarian language for that, with its German and Polish influences.

 

One particular day over lunch, I watched as the Polish colleague sat with one of the native Hungarians and they discussed history. The polish man was asking probing questions about the decisions of the Hungarians at critical times in history.  "When you were invaded ...., why did you do such and such" (as if this one man decided on behalf of his country). Mind you, I was eavesdropping so I didn't get the details, and 'such and such' will have to do. At the same time, over the course of work dinners, lunches, and phone calls, I understood another Hungarian colleague also shares this insatiable appetite for history in minute detail; discussing and re-discussing, seeking to understand and to tell.  It is as if they need to know these details have been shared, revisited, searched, and honored in some way.  That was the spirit in which the information is asked, heard, reflected upon, and shared by these Hungarians, and naturally I wondered if it reflected the norms of them all, as a people.

 

On the way back to the airport, I asked the taxi driver about the language itself.  He indicated they traditionally taught German and Hungarian in school, but now younger generations also learn English. This also meant that often the older generations speak Hungarian and German only. I said goodbye in my worst Hungarian knock off, and closed out an adventurous week on the Danube. My appreciation of history may not ever reach such proportions, but I did feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to dwell amongst it for the week.

 

I closed out the week with a welcomed nighttime view of Paris over the right wing, and well lets face it...that's never a bad way to end a day.