After two weeks in the US, two weeks of feeling like a stranger in a strange land, I was struck by what I now notice when I am back.
Like how much Americans like to banter. The chatter at work is incessant but also largely uninteresting.
Preferences for brand of Caesar salad dressing, nuances of sleeping patterns, weekend plans ad nauseum, repeating the same story over and over, poking fun at the latest overplayed news story...all the better if the story is witty and animated.
I used to wonder why Germans would often say they felt the American communication style was superficial and fake. Now I get it. In all this talking about the latest products, personal preferences, pet peeves and the minutiae of daily life, very little is ever said about anything that really matters. Quantity triumphs over quality.
Maybe the added effect of being overly sensitive to anyone speaking English makes it worse but I kept wishing everyone would just be quiet for a little while, get some work done and save the exaggerated banter for another time. I wonder if I looked the part of the stern, humorless German. Hmmmm...
Posted from London
Showing posts with label culture shock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture shock. Show all posts
2.2.09
13.11.08
The Little Blue Dell Mug
It really felt like such a relief to get that last post off my chest. I can't say everything is peaches and cream but just to admit that times were tough instead of trying to breeze over it feels more honest. I needed to indulge that to be able to move past where I had gotten stuck over the last weeks.
And now a little story about a little blue Dell mug that caused a Seinfeld-esque series of events to unfold over the last week in a little gray building housing a little Swiss company invaded by a little non-Swiss project team, who really meant no harm but even the German and Swiss have their cultural differences as is the moral of our story.
I arrived at work in the morning a few weeks ago and set about drinking my first cup of coffee. I LOVE that Swiss companies always have great espresso machines as part of standard office equipment; I am like a lab rat pushing the button and waiting for the beans to grind and the cafe creme smell to waft out of the machine. Heaven. But I digress.
Not two sips into my morning coffee, two consultants came running into the room pointing at the desk across from mine. There it is! They had panicked looks on their faces as they approached the little blue Dell mug with the telltale evidence of someone's cup of soup snack - some dried bits of noodles and a spoon poking out.
"Ach so! It was T. (name definitely protected for privacy) who took the mug!"
T. was not at his desk and was missing all the fuss.
The two consultants quietly ushered the mug out, took it down the hallway and the rest of us looked around each other and broke out laughing at the cloak and dagger moves of the Russian & German team.
Flash forward two weeks.
In our project team meeting, with no warning, some power point slides were presented outlining the stress we are causing to the original building tenants and cleaning staff.
The first slide showed the too full parking lot outside the building, license plates of the offending D-Munich and D-Frankfurt cars far outnumbering Swiss plates.
The second slide showed a photo of a yellow post-it note addressed to the cleaning staff: 'Please do not take any of our belongings from this room!'
As was explained in the next slide, this note caused a serious drama in the building cleaning staff, with one threatening to quit!
And last but not least, a slide showing a rowdy rabble of Spanish people who were informally meeting in the common spaces due to overbooked meeting rooms and causing an increase in building noise. Gasp!
The room was abuzz as everyone pondered who wrote the scandalous note, who's rental cars were taking up all the spaces in the lot and who dared to speak out loud in a common area!!
The scene was grim the following day as signs went up all over the kitchen and common areas reminding people not to take mugs from the kitchen cabinet that were not theirs (!), not to use the common areas to talk to each other above a whisper(!!), and not to take up all the car spaces(!!!)
I entered my office this morning and 4 days of garbage were piled over the can and falling onto the floor as the cleaning staff boycotted trash removal yet another day and sadly shook my head at the distressed situation.
As best I can gather, I have pieced together the evidence and here is how I think the events unfolded:
(1) T. was working until very late at night, as always, and wanted a cup of soup since he missed dinner yet again.
(2) He went to the kitchen, pulled the little blue Dell mug out of the cabinet assuming that they were for everybody to use. He made his soup and enjoyed.
(3) He was too exhausted to clean up the mug and put it back, choosing instead to head home and try to get some sleep.
(4) In fact, the mugs were not for everybody to use.
(5) The little blue Dell mug was the big boss's of the lifer Swiss tenants.
(6) He freaked when he came the next morning looking for his mug and launched an APB for his little blue Dell mug.
(7) Mug was found, filthy with a project team member's soup remnants.
(8) An order went out to the cleaning staff to please make sure that if any mugs were found stolen by project team to please immediately clean and return them to the cabinet.
(9) Cleaning staff followed orders and took all mugs.
(10) 3 nights in a row project team member's mug was taken from her desk and stashed in cabinet.
(11) Project team member got mad and left mean note to cleaning staff.
(12) Cleaning staff said you are all F'd up and said enough is enough. I quit!
(13) The mug incident was the final straw after the disorder and chaos in the parking lot(!) and the NOISE in the hall(!)
(14) Project team members reprimanded for causing all this disturbance to peaceful Swiss life.
Ironically, no one had ever told T. about the little blue Dell mug incident. He was chuckling about the Swiss (he is German). I had to break it to him that, in fact, he was the source of the whole fiasco and next time he should just go home in time for dinner.
Another day in the microcosm of a Swiss company.
Posted from Zürich
And now a little story about a little blue Dell mug that caused a Seinfeld-esque series of events to unfold over the last week in a little gray building housing a little Swiss company invaded by a little non-Swiss project team, who really meant no harm but even the German and Swiss have their cultural differences as is the moral of our story.
I arrived at work in the morning a few weeks ago and set about drinking my first cup of coffee. I LOVE that Swiss companies always have great espresso machines as part of standard office equipment; I am like a lab rat pushing the button and waiting for the beans to grind and the cafe creme smell to waft out of the machine. Heaven. But I digress.
Not two sips into my morning coffee, two consultants came running into the room pointing at the desk across from mine. There it is! They had panicked looks on their faces as they approached the little blue Dell mug with the telltale evidence of someone's cup of soup snack - some dried bits of noodles and a spoon poking out.
"Ach so! It was T. (name definitely protected for privacy) who took the mug!"
T. was not at his desk and was missing all the fuss.
The two consultants quietly ushered the mug out, took it down the hallway and the rest of us looked around each other and broke out laughing at the cloak and dagger moves of the Russian & German team.
Flash forward two weeks.
In our project team meeting, with no warning, some power point slides were presented outlining the stress we are causing to the original building tenants and cleaning staff.
The first slide showed the too full parking lot outside the building, license plates of the offending D-Munich and D-Frankfurt cars far outnumbering Swiss plates.
The second slide showed a photo of a yellow post-it note addressed to the cleaning staff: 'Please do not take any of our belongings from this room!'
As was explained in the next slide, this note caused a serious drama in the building cleaning staff, with one threatening to quit!
And last but not least, a slide showing a rowdy rabble of Spanish people who were informally meeting in the common spaces due to overbooked meeting rooms and causing an increase in building noise. Gasp!
The room was abuzz as everyone pondered who wrote the scandalous note, who's rental cars were taking up all the spaces in the lot and who dared to speak out loud in a common area!!
The scene was grim the following day as signs went up all over the kitchen and common areas reminding people not to take mugs from the kitchen cabinet that were not theirs (!), not to use the common areas to talk to each other above a whisper(!!), and not to take up all the car spaces(!!!)
I entered my office this morning and 4 days of garbage were piled over the can and falling onto the floor as the cleaning staff boycotted trash removal yet another day and sadly shook my head at the distressed situation.
As best I can gather, I have pieced together the evidence and here is how I think the events unfolded:
(1) T. was working until very late at night, as always, and wanted a cup of soup since he missed dinner yet again.
(2) He went to the kitchen, pulled the little blue Dell mug out of the cabinet assuming that they were for everybody to use. He made his soup and enjoyed.
(3) He was too exhausted to clean up the mug and put it back, choosing instead to head home and try to get some sleep.
(4) In fact, the mugs were not for everybody to use.
(5) The little blue Dell mug was the big boss's of the lifer Swiss tenants.
(6) He freaked when he came the next morning looking for his mug and launched an APB for his little blue Dell mug.
(7) Mug was found, filthy with a project team member's soup remnants.
(8) An order went out to the cleaning staff to please make sure that if any mugs were found stolen by project team to please immediately clean and return them to the cabinet.
(9) Cleaning staff followed orders and took all mugs.
(10) 3 nights in a row project team member's mug was taken from her desk and stashed in cabinet.
(11) Project team member got mad and left mean note to cleaning staff.
(12) Cleaning staff said you are all F'd up and said enough is enough. I quit!
(13) The mug incident was the final straw after the disorder and chaos in the parking lot(!) and the NOISE in the hall(!)
(14) Project team members reprimanded for causing all this disturbance to peaceful Swiss life.
Ironically, no one had ever told T. about the little blue Dell mug incident. He was chuckling about the Swiss (he is German). I had to break it to him that, in fact, he was the source of the whole fiasco and next time he should just go home in time for dinner.
Another day in the microcosm of a Swiss company.
Posted from Zürich
7.4.08
Asian Workguide from a Misguided American
I survived the first day of work in Asia.
10 Lessons learned:
1. Don't point at anyone. In general avoid one finger pointing. Works better to do a hula dance waving your hands in the general direction of what you want to point at.
2. Bobbing your head up and down erratically does not satisfactorily meet the bow etiquette. But the Japanese seem to find it funny anyway. Actually, so do the Americans.
3. When handing things to people, use two hands and present it.
4. Talk slow and talk loud. Don't expect the same in return.
5. Be careful who you approach in the group. You need to go to the senior most person to get a response. It likely won't match the reality of the situation.
6. Name tags are a life saver to those unfamiliar with Asian names.
7. Anyway, you still won't be able to pronounce the names right unless they use a Western nickname.
8. It's an absolute must to privately ask people if they understood what you said and check what they are doing.
9. It is very interesting to see what they thought you meant instead.
10. Rice is for breakfast. Then again, so are waffles.
Posted from Singapore
10 Lessons learned:
1. Don't point at anyone. In general avoid one finger pointing. Works better to do a hula dance waving your hands in the general direction of what you want to point at.
2. Bobbing your head up and down erratically does not satisfactorily meet the bow etiquette. But the Japanese seem to find it funny anyway. Actually, so do the Americans.
3. When handing things to people, use two hands and present it.
4. Talk slow and talk loud. Don't expect the same in return.
5. Be careful who you approach in the group. You need to go to the senior most person to get a response. It likely won't match the reality of the situation.
6. Name tags are a life saver to those unfamiliar with Asian names.
7. Anyway, you still won't be able to pronounce the names right unless they use a Western nickname.
8. It's an absolute must to privately ask people if they understood what you said and check what they are doing.
9. It is very interesting to see what they thought you meant instead.
10. Rice is for breakfast. Then again, so are waffles.
Posted from Singapore
13.1.08
American?
I stayed in Basel this weekend since M. is in the US and I have a week of hell coming up and wanted to cut back on the travel and rest. The Frenchman is on vacation, 5 new team members are joining us this week and 50 end users are arriving on Monday for their first attempts to test the new system. One of my client team members was stranded in town this weekend too, so we decided to go to dinner on Saturday night and do a little bar hopping afterwards.
Dinner was great. We ate at Bodega zum Strauss, an Italian restaurant on Barfüsserplatz, although I had sesame coated seared tuna with avocado wasabi sauce, which doesn't seem very Italian. Delish!
My colleague is from Finland so we had some great conversations about Finland, Finnish attitudes, culture, history, sports, etc. We were the last two in the restaurant, giggly and laughing at the end in part due to our nearly empty bottle of Sicilian wine but also just girls being girls.
We even agreed to pull a prank on the Project Romeo and this had the stiff Swiss waitress glaring at our peals of laughter for a good 20 minutes. (Side note on the Project Romeo - every project is guaranteed to have at least one Project Romeo, a guy who trys to woo all the ladies secretly but who ends up being the project laughing stock when it comes out that he applies the same sad tricks indiscriminately to all. Typically the Romeo's outing occurs at a social gathering of the ladies, after they have too much wine, when someone decides to tell the story of what Romeo has tried recently to seduce her and about 10 women in the room pipe up - he said/did that to me too! At this point he has no chance but serves him right anway.)
Anyhow, we headed out and after passing on a few bars, settled into one of the Irish pubs in town for a couple of ciders. We were chit chatting away when the inevitable happened. The statement that comes sooner or later in one form or another with most Europeans I get to know.
You aren't really American.
Last I checked I have an American passport, a loud mouth and occasionally still revert to wearing a baseball cap in public on a bad hair day when running errands. I never know how to take this statement or any of its kin that imply I just don't fit the 'American profile'.
On the one hand it is a sign that whatever prejudices the person who uttered it had originally, the barrier is now down. It is a sign of acceptance. Maybe I am somehow different from most Americans or maybe the American stereotype is just that. On the other hand, I feel like I am betraying my country somehow, or am not authentic, or that even if I am ok to hang out with, this person clearly does not like my countrymen or country as a whole and I am just an exception to their rule.
I hope one of these days I know what the right response is to that statement.
Posted from Basel
Dinner was great. We ate at Bodega zum Strauss, an Italian restaurant on Barfüsserplatz, although I had sesame coated seared tuna with avocado wasabi sauce, which doesn't seem very Italian. Delish!
My colleague is from Finland so we had some great conversations about Finland, Finnish attitudes, culture, history, sports, etc. We were the last two in the restaurant, giggly and laughing at the end in part due to our nearly empty bottle of Sicilian wine but also just girls being girls.
We even agreed to pull a prank on the Project Romeo and this had the stiff Swiss waitress glaring at our peals of laughter for a good 20 minutes. (Side note on the Project Romeo - every project is guaranteed to have at least one Project Romeo, a guy who trys to woo all the ladies secretly but who ends up being the project laughing stock when it comes out that he applies the same sad tricks indiscriminately to all. Typically the Romeo's outing occurs at a social gathering of the ladies, after they have too much wine, when someone decides to tell the story of what Romeo has tried recently to seduce her and about 10 women in the room pipe up - he said/did that to me too! At this point he has no chance but serves him right anway.)
Anyhow, we headed out and after passing on a few bars, settled into one of the Irish pubs in town for a couple of ciders. We were chit chatting away when the inevitable happened. The statement that comes sooner or later in one form or another with most Europeans I get to know.
You aren't really American.
Last I checked I have an American passport, a loud mouth and occasionally still revert to wearing a baseball cap in public on a bad hair day when running errands. I never know how to take this statement or any of its kin that imply I just don't fit the 'American profile'.
On the one hand it is a sign that whatever prejudices the person who uttered it had originally, the barrier is now down. It is a sign of acceptance. Maybe I am somehow different from most Americans or maybe the American stereotype is just that. On the other hand, I feel like I am betraying my country somehow, or am not authentic, or that even if I am ok to hang out with, this person clearly does not like my countrymen or country as a whole and I am just an exception to their rule.
I hope one of these days I know what the right response is to that statement.
Posted from Basel
5.1.08
Let Me Consult You
I've always pondered the posts I've read in other blogs regarding customer service in Germany. Nearly all are written about negative experiences, whether it be an encounter while shopping, bureaucratic maneuvering or receiving (or perhaps not receiving) 'service' from banks, the deutschebahn, etc. I had posted some time ago that as a general rule my experience had been quite the opposite in Germany and Switzerland. Although it wasn't the style I was used to in the US - the Hey there, can I help you? Nice weather we're having today isn't it? That's a great necklace you have on!, with the transactions happening in the background kind of service - people here have been for the most part attentive and helpful, language challenges notwithstanding.
In the US, selling is about relationships. I have a few friends and acquaintences in the US who are salespeople. They did not become the top salesman through their passion for the product; quite the opposite usually. They have an unbelievable ability to BS with anyone who comes their way, while the deep experts on the subject are kept tucked away in the office, lab, etc.
Once these top salespeople establish a relationship, selling the product and closing the deal follow somewhat naturally. And once the deal is made, Americans tend to stay loyal with a company or product based on the person who is selling it to them. Likewise they may switch to another company or product if their point of contact moves on. I can think of one hairdresser I followed from salon to salon, four in total, before I finally moved away. There were other great hairdressers at the first salon, but I knew him and trusted him.
An even better example of the strength of the relationship in US sales is the number of top salespeople who get hired for their existing clientele. Such is the importance of the relationship that the existing clientele are more likely to switch to a new product than a new salesperson with the same product. Sure there are a lot of generalizations here but more or less this is how it is in the US.
So what is the deal in Germany with all this bad customer service? Some of the stories are truly horrible customer service stories, I cannot deny. However, I think there is a fundamental difference in how selling works in Germany. Selling here has nothing to do with the relationship, especially not at first.
Germans despise artificial friendliness and superficial relationships. Relationships here are based on spending a long time, sometimes years, getting to know each other and sharing your life stories and experiences. They are much less likely to be based on a common interest but are built on the friendship and loyalty itself. You would be extremely unlikely to go to a bar in Germany, sit down for a beer and find your new best friend by the end of the night, unless they were another expat or tourist. If you are selling, you will never be able to charm your way into a quick sale. The very act of trying to charm would not only discredit you it would make a German customer completely uncomfortable.
So what sells in Germany?
'Let me consult you.'
That very simple phrase is what sells in Germany. Behind every consultation are years of schooling, myriads of philosophies and theories, certificates and degrees and practical training. In a nutshell, expertise and credentials sell.
I found it strange at first, during my first weekend in Europe, that the saleslady in the shoe store knew about every shoe extensively, where it came from, who made it, when the model was released, the care products should be applied to this shoe, how to store and maintain them, what could be replaced or repaired, what warranty was available and how to precisely fit each said shoe to my feet. I like the service but I thought perhaps she had a shoe fetish.
Other instances followed. We went mattress shopping and after a two hour 'fitting and consultation' we knew exactly which 5000(!) euro frame and mattress we should buy, as well as what settings of the frame we needed to precisely align to the curvature of our neck, spine, hips and knees. This was no finger in the air assessment. There was a device to measure the precise 'solution' (another German word for anything you may want to buy) for us. At 5000 euro we created a diversion and quickly bolted out the store. It made me miss going to a mattress store in the US, bouncing around on a few beds and declaring one mine, back health be damned.
There were also the health insurance salesman who came to our house and consulted us for an hour, my hairdresser constantly admonishing me for my frightful or non-existant make up application and suggesting we schedule a make up consultation, the banker who set up my bank account and is now asking me to come in for a consultation on getting some interest applied to my money and many more.
I find it all kind of funny and from time to time get the giggles on the serious nature of conducting business in Germany. Let's take the painter for example. We have 3 rooms, a hallway and a bathroom in our flat, all very average sized. We want two walls painted a dark color, the rest will be a tint or light color. I would expect this is a fairly standard painting situation. We had a German painter expert come to consult us. He measured the entire house, discussed colors with us, assessed all the walls and told us he would give us an estimate in a week. A week?! A week to determine the exact quadrat meters of the walls, the number of liters of paint and drops of paint color needed to paint each wall, grams of plaster needed to repair holes, drying time based on average humidity during this time of year and the resulting cost of product and workmanship to paint our house. I seriously doubt that the results of the painting job would be anything other than perfection. Also likely around 2000 euro but the supercomputer is still crunching the numbers so we wait.
At the same time I brought in a general handyman (a non-German, I know, I'm a rebel) who quickly assessed the apartment, gave us an estimate and also discussed some other projects he could help us out with including some cabinet and lighting work. No self-respecting German would ever hire the handyman who dared to claim proficiency in so many areas. Meanwhile I was trying to imagine what a typical day at paint school was like and for how many years you had to go and what it cost. Plastering 101. Textured Walls Lab. Senior Seminar - Ceilings. Today, ladies and gentleman, we are covering the many fascinating shades of beige. And to think I've painted a couple apartments all on my own with no training whatsoever and just wanted someone to do the tedious work for me this time!
There is a cost associated with all this expertise. Outside the exchange rate, I think things are cheaper in the US because you do not have to factor in all this schooling and sophisicated theory and consulation behind every purchase here. Any friendly idiot can sell you whatever you want. You are pretty much on your own though with what you get and what happens next.
There is a value to consultation and expertise. If you want an expert opinion and don't want to spend hours researching yourself you will always find a one hour summary here. I am also impressed with the quality of work and have been happy with the purchases I have made after I have been consulted. I hardly ever have buyer's remorse anymore. Think BMW quality and apply it to your hiking boots, your watch, the painting of your walls and you get the idea of what is expected out of every sale in Germany. In the end I can't conclude whether relationship based sales or expertise based sales and their corresponding costs are better. It just depends but if you are in doubt...let someone consult you.
Posted from Munich
In the US, selling is about relationships. I have a few friends and acquaintences in the US who are salespeople. They did not become the top salesman through their passion for the product; quite the opposite usually. They have an unbelievable ability to BS with anyone who comes their way, while the deep experts on the subject are kept tucked away in the office, lab, etc.
Once these top salespeople establish a relationship, selling the product and closing the deal follow somewhat naturally. And once the deal is made, Americans tend to stay loyal with a company or product based on the person who is selling it to them. Likewise they may switch to another company or product if their point of contact moves on. I can think of one hairdresser I followed from salon to salon, four in total, before I finally moved away. There were other great hairdressers at the first salon, but I knew him and trusted him.
An even better example of the strength of the relationship in US sales is the number of top salespeople who get hired for their existing clientele. Such is the importance of the relationship that the existing clientele are more likely to switch to a new product than a new salesperson with the same product. Sure there are a lot of generalizations here but more or less this is how it is in the US.
So what is the deal in Germany with all this bad customer service? Some of the stories are truly horrible customer service stories, I cannot deny. However, I think there is a fundamental difference in how selling works in Germany. Selling here has nothing to do with the relationship, especially not at first.
Germans despise artificial friendliness and superficial relationships. Relationships here are based on spending a long time, sometimes years, getting to know each other and sharing your life stories and experiences. They are much less likely to be based on a common interest but are built on the friendship and loyalty itself. You would be extremely unlikely to go to a bar in Germany, sit down for a beer and find your new best friend by the end of the night, unless they were another expat or tourist. If you are selling, you will never be able to charm your way into a quick sale. The very act of trying to charm would not only discredit you it would make a German customer completely uncomfortable.
So what sells in Germany?
'Let me consult you.'
That very simple phrase is what sells in Germany. Behind every consultation are years of schooling, myriads of philosophies and theories, certificates and degrees and practical training. In a nutshell, expertise and credentials sell.
I found it strange at first, during my first weekend in Europe, that the saleslady in the shoe store knew about every shoe extensively, where it came from, who made it, when the model was released, the care products should be applied to this shoe, how to store and maintain them, what could be replaced or repaired, what warranty was available and how to precisely fit each said shoe to my feet. I like the service but I thought perhaps she had a shoe fetish.
Other instances followed. We went mattress shopping and after a two hour 'fitting and consultation' we knew exactly which 5000(!) euro frame and mattress we should buy, as well as what settings of the frame we needed to precisely align to the curvature of our neck, spine, hips and knees. This was no finger in the air assessment. There was a device to measure the precise 'solution' (another German word for anything you may want to buy) for us. At 5000 euro we created a diversion and quickly bolted out the store. It made me miss going to a mattress store in the US, bouncing around on a few beds and declaring one mine, back health be damned.
There were also the health insurance salesman who came to our house and consulted us for an hour, my hairdresser constantly admonishing me for my frightful or non-existant make up application and suggesting we schedule a make up consultation, the banker who set up my bank account and is now asking me to come in for a consultation on getting some interest applied to my money and many more.
I find it all kind of funny and from time to time get the giggles on the serious nature of conducting business in Germany. Let's take the painter for example. We have 3 rooms, a hallway and a bathroom in our flat, all very average sized. We want two walls painted a dark color, the rest will be a tint or light color. I would expect this is a fairly standard painting situation. We had a German painter expert come to consult us. He measured the entire house, discussed colors with us, assessed all the walls and told us he would give us an estimate in a week. A week?! A week to determine the exact quadrat meters of the walls, the number of liters of paint and drops of paint color needed to paint each wall, grams of plaster needed to repair holes, drying time based on average humidity during this time of year and the resulting cost of product and workmanship to paint our house. I seriously doubt that the results of the painting job would be anything other than perfection. Also likely around 2000 euro but the supercomputer is still crunching the numbers so we wait.
At the same time I brought in a general handyman (a non-German, I know, I'm a rebel) who quickly assessed the apartment, gave us an estimate and also discussed some other projects he could help us out with including some cabinet and lighting work. No self-respecting German would ever hire the handyman who dared to claim proficiency in so many areas. Meanwhile I was trying to imagine what a typical day at paint school was like and for how many years you had to go and what it cost. Plastering 101. Textured Walls Lab. Senior Seminar - Ceilings. Today, ladies and gentleman, we are covering the many fascinating shades of beige. And to think I've painted a couple apartments all on my own with no training whatsoever and just wanted someone to do the tedious work for me this time!
There is a cost associated with all this expertise. Outside the exchange rate, I think things are cheaper in the US because you do not have to factor in all this schooling and sophisicated theory and consulation behind every purchase here. Any friendly idiot can sell you whatever you want. You are pretty much on your own though with what you get and what happens next.
There is a value to consultation and expertise. If you want an expert opinion and don't want to spend hours researching yourself you will always find a one hour summary here. I am also impressed with the quality of work and have been happy with the purchases I have made after I have been consulted. I hardly ever have buyer's remorse anymore. Think BMW quality and apply it to your hiking boots, your watch, the painting of your walls and you get the idea of what is expected out of every sale in Germany. In the end I can't conclude whether relationship based sales or expertise based sales and their corresponding costs are better. It just depends but if you are in doubt...let someone consult you.
Posted from Munich
24.3.07
The Little Things
Some cultural differences are so severe they stick out like a sore thumb. Others are so subtle that only the most perceptive pick up on them before it is too late and they’ve made a big mistake.
An obvious cultural difference is the Swiss stare. Those of you who live here know what I mean. Everything can be perfectly fine with you but people will still eerily stare you straight in the eyes, no expression on their face, making those unaccustomed to this squirm. In time you get used to it and even learn to stare back with your own mask-like face.
Now that is if there is nothing unusual about you. But let’s say you somehow deviate from the norm. Last night I was sitting on the tram and a guy got on who was having difficulty walking. He seemed to be suffering from some kind of neurological condition. For me the natural response was to avoid eye contact and just kind of peek sideways to see what was the deal.
He sat down in the seat across the aisle and proceeded to start tapping his hand loudly on the glass. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Pause. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. It was as annoying as anything but still I did not look. I didn’t think anything about not looking. That was just my reaction.
At the next stop a number of people climbed on and he continued to Thud. Thud. Thud. Then his phone rang. In a voice loud enough to be heard from front of the 8 tram to back, he started talking to whoever had called. Not just loudly but slurred and slowly. I still didn’t look but the Swiss on the train nearly gave themselves whiplash turning around to stare. And they stared. The whole tram was staring at this guy, expressionless, but staring.
There was another time this habit really struck me. One time a woman was lying on the ground at the SBB, having a heart attack or something. There were two people helping her and the paramedics had just arrived. People actually gathered around in a circle and just stared at what was going on. I felt so bad for the lady. Imagine laying there scared out of your mind and the crowd thinks this is an interesting spectacle. Bizarre habit but an obvious cultural difference. Something you would not see in New York City.
Now the not so obvious. A colleague of mine, D, was telling a story the other night about a recent trouble at work. He is also American. His team had been under a lot of pressure lately to deliver a tricky solution and had spent a lot of time trying to meet the deadline. They accomplished quite a bit and in the end were successful. D decided to send an email thanking the two colleagues who had made it happen and copied some of the project leads on it.
It ended in disaster. A third colleague who had contributed very little was furious that the other two had been praised. The two who were mentioned were upset because they thought the email was condescending. All three were German. In the end, the whole situation had boiled over and others got involved in the drama. All because one confused American wanted to thank two guys for a job well done.
When we were talking about it we had a German friend with us. She told us that thanking is not done in Germany at work. If you receive thanks it has the connotation that you are not an equal but lower on the food chain. She told us that when you don’t hear from a German boss, you can be assured that everything is going well. The less heard the better.
After thinking about it, I realized I could not recall any thank you’s from German colleagues in the time I had been here. However I have given many thanks. I never picked up on it and I guess was lucky never to have caused such a big controversy. On the other hand, I’m not sure I can stop recognizing people’s accomplishments on my team even if it causes a cultural rub.
Anyway, if you have read this far, I’d like to thank you for your time and attention.
Posted from Munich
An obvious cultural difference is the Swiss stare. Those of you who live here know what I mean. Everything can be perfectly fine with you but people will still eerily stare you straight in the eyes, no expression on their face, making those unaccustomed to this squirm. In time you get used to it and even learn to stare back with your own mask-like face.
Now that is if there is nothing unusual about you. But let’s say you somehow deviate from the norm. Last night I was sitting on the tram and a guy got on who was having difficulty walking. He seemed to be suffering from some kind of neurological condition. For me the natural response was to avoid eye contact and just kind of peek sideways to see what was the deal.
He sat down in the seat across the aisle and proceeded to start tapping his hand loudly on the glass. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Pause. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. It was as annoying as anything but still I did not look. I didn’t think anything about not looking. That was just my reaction.
At the next stop a number of people climbed on and he continued to Thud. Thud. Thud. Then his phone rang. In a voice loud enough to be heard from front of the 8 tram to back, he started talking to whoever had called. Not just loudly but slurred and slowly. I still didn’t look but the Swiss on the train nearly gave themselves whiplash turning around to stare. And they stared. The whole tram was staring at this guy, expressionless, but staring.
There was another time this habit really struck me. One time a woman was lying on the ground at the SBB, having a heart attack or something. There were two people helping her and the paramedics had just arrived. People actually gathered around in a circle and just stared at what was going on. I felt so bad for the lady. Imagine laying there scared out of your mind and the crowd thinks this is an interesting spectacle. Bizarre habit but an obvious cultural difference. Something you would not see in New York City.
Now the not so obvious. A colleague of mine, D, was telling a story the other night about a recent trouble at work. He is also American. His team had been under a lot of pressure lately to deliver a tricky solution and had spent a lot of time trying to meet the deadline. They accomplished quite a bit and in the end were successful. D decided to send an email thanking the two colleagues who had made it happen and copied some of the project leads on it.
It ended in disaster. A third colleague who had contributed very little was furious that the other two had been praised. The two who were mentioned were upset because they thought the email was condescending. All three were German. In the end, the whole situation had boiled over and others got involved in the drama. All because one confused American wanted to thank two guys for a job well done.
When we were talking about it we had a German friend with us. She told us that thanking is not done in Germany at work. If you receive thanks it has the connotation that you are not an equal but lower on the food chain. She told us that when you don’t hear from a German boss, you can be assured that everything is going well. The less heard the better.
After thinking about it, I realized I could not recall any thank you’s from German colleagues in the time I had been here. However I have given many thanks. I never picked up on it and I guess was lucky never to have caused such a big controversy. On the other hand, I’m not sure I can stop recognizing people’s accomplishments on my team even if it causes a cultural rub.
Anyway, if you have read this far, I’d like to thank you for your time and attention.
Posted from Munich
22.1.07
The Sauna
Once upon a time, I lived in Washington, DC. I belonged to a gym that I loved, called Results. On weekdays I had a fairly short workout before or after work but on weekends I moved in for a few hours. After a workout plus, I would head down to the locker room where I would spend an hour in the sauna. At first it was just the hot tub, but in time I came to love the steam room and even the dry sauna. Other than a few freaks running around naked, it was as close to complete comfort and relaxation as I could imagine at this point in my life. At the end, I would have a post-sauna smoothie and walk the 10 blocks home to my cozy English basement apartment and relish in the afterglow.
On my first trip to Europe, when I was visiting M., we decided to head to the gym one afternoon. There weren't too many people there as it was just after Christmas and most people were off away from their normal routine. We had a good workout and then M. asked if I wanted to go to the sauna. He explained where he guessed that it was based on how the men's was set up and said he'd meet me later. Even though I didn't know how long he would be in the sauna, I decided to just laze into the sauna experience as the post-workout fatigue started to set in.
I dawdled around in the shower, washing and conditioning my hair and soaking under the hot shower. Finally, after an eternity, I headed for the door to the sauna area, wrapped in my fluffy white towel, looking forward to the steam room.
(Warning: Americans stop reading here! We all live happily ever after...the end.)
My eyes half-closed, I pushed open the door and heard M.
'What took you so long?'
The words didn't register but my eyes popped open as I realized my mistake. I let out a yelp, drawing attention to myself. There was M. and, in the background, other men walking around completely naked! I clearly had walked into the wrong room!
Silly girl. Upon a second sweep of the room, I realized there were naked women too. NAKED. AAHHHHHHHH!!!! Help!!!!
And gross.
M. told me where to hang my towel (yeah, right) and I pondered what to do. I could bolt out of there or try to be hang and be cool.
I decided to stay and see how European I could be. Nothing to see here. Just avert eyes and keep a low profile. Other than the shriek I had let out, no one seemed to even notice I was there. So I dropped my towel and dashed into the steam room, grateful that it was dim and steamy. After 20 minutes, we headed to the shower and I gave myself a pat on the back that I had survived.
That's when M. pulled the cord above me and a 100 gallons of ice cold water plunged over me. What the ???? I screamed again and this time people were starting to wonder what was up with the hysterical girl. I was seeing red and started yelling at M. not to EVER do that again.
I went off to the dry sauna to ponder what kind of sick people these were, running around naked and dumping icy cold water on after the warmth of the steam room. Then trying to explain, das ist zo healthy, baby. Russian women dunk their kids in the frozen ocean all the time to make them healthier. Huh?
Did I ever say I had the ambition to be more Russian? I don't think so. I went through two more rounds hot-icy cold-hot-icy cold and then finally escaped
On the way home from the gym we had a smoothie and suddenly it hit me. I felt great! Energetic and invigorated but completely relaxed. Maybe there was something to this torture after all.
This weekend I was remembering my first European sauna experience as we spent a lazy afternoon at the sauna. Steam, Finnish Sauna, reading, tanning, icy water and snacks, and wasting away an afternoon... really, its not so bad.
Posted from Basel
On my first trip to Europe, when I was visiting M., we decided to head to the gym one afternoon. There weren't too many people there as it was just after Christmas and most people were off away from their normal routine. We had a good workout and then M. asked if I wanted to go to the sauna. He explained where he guessed that it was based on how the men's was set up and said he'd meet me later. Even though I didn't know how long he would be in the sauna, I decided to just laze into the sauna experience as the post-workout fatigue started to set in.
I dawdled around in the shower, washing and conditioning my hair and soaking under the hot shower. Finally, after an eternity, I headed for the door to the sauna area, wrapped in my fluffy white towel, looking forward to the steam room.
(Warning: Americans stop reading here! We all live happily ever after...the end.)
My eyes half-closed, I pushed open the door and heard M.
'What took you so long?'
The words didn't register but my eyes popped open as I realized my mistake. I let out a yelp, drawing attention to myself. There was M. and, in the background, other men walking around completely naked! I clearly had walked into the wrong room!
Silly girl. Upon a second sweep of the room, I realized there were naked women too. NAKED. AAHHHHHHHH!!!! Help!!!!
And gross.
M. told me where to hang my towel (yeah, right) and I pondered what to do. I could bolt out of there or try to be hang and be cool.
I decided to stay and see how European I could be. Nothing to see here. Just avert eyes and keep a low profile. Other than the shriek I had let out, no one seemed to even notice I was there. So I dropped my towel and dashed into the steam room, grateful that it was dim and steamy. After 20 minutes, we headed to the shower and I gave myself a pat on the back that I had survived.
That's when M. pulled the cord above me and a 100 gallons of ice cold water plunged over me. What the ???? I screamed again and this time people were starting to wonder what was up with the hysterical girl. I was seeing red and started yelling at M. not to EVER do that again.
I went off to the dry sauna to ponder what kind of sick people these were, running around naked and dumping icy cold water on after the warmth of the steam room. Then trying to explain, das ist zo healthy, baby. Russian women dunk their kids in the frozen ocean all the time to make them healthier. Huh?
Did I ever say I had the ambition to be more Russian? I don't think so. I went through two more rounds hot-icy cold-hot-icy cold and then finally escaped
On the way home from the gym we had a smoothie and suddenly it hit me. I felt great! Energetic and invigorated but completely relaxed. Maybe there was something to this torture after all.
This weekend I was remembering my first European sauna experience as we spent a lazy afternoon at the sauna. Steam, Finnish Sauna, reading, tanning, icy water and snacks, and wasting away an afternoon... really, its not so bad.
Posted from Basel
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