Cross cultures

The easy way out

“Kodak was so confident about their marketing capability and their brand, that they tried to take the easy way out” by choosing “partner or buy its way into new industries” whereas “Fujifilm realised it needed to develop in-house expertise in the new businesses”.

This is an extract from The Economist’s Schumpeter blog, about Kodak’s fall. I struck me because I have been struggling with the same woes, recently. By postponing the moment when I finally put my brains to work and try to solve the problems myself, I have only been running around the door without finding it. 

Sometimes in life one just has to take a deep breath, and go for it.

Life is never easy, but the reward tastes so much better when it was hard to get.

The changing urban structure in and around Paris

Paris is one of the most expensive cities in the world, and real estate there has quite consistently gotten more expensive over the last few years. As I have been using the transportation system (subway & trains) since the end of elementary school, I also noticed that it has consistently become worse.

The reasons are multiple, but I believe it has a lot to do with the change in the commuting pattern (more people live further away from work because of higher real estate prices), and a lack of investment in public transportation in the past decade. Don’t get me wrong: I do acknowledge the recent improvements (renovated trains and stations), as well as the success of operations such as the Velib’ (bicycle sharing system). Commuting has even become a bit nicer since commuters are now used to being crushed in a train (although a bit less than the average in Tokyo), and they stopped complaining in favour of laughing about it (it might not be actually better, it just means that they understood have to make do with it anyway…)

It’s all part of a bigger change that is happening around Paris.

Another sign of change is in the real estate prices in the suburbs. I think my parents’ house has seen its price increase by several hundreds percent since they bought it more than 15 years ago (even corrected with inflation). Rents outside of Paris are close to those inside the Peripherique. One has to go and live really far from the center of Paris to find an affordable housing solution. 

As a side effect, Paris’s districts are becoming more and more bourgeois. Most of my friends, as well as yours truly, could be assimilated to this new, middle- to upper-class, educated population with a good enough salary to afford renting an apartment in the French capital. As we move from student life to executive positions, we are now entering the “system” and participating to the development of a new Paris, one with better living areas, one where poorer populations are pushed out. Out of the 20 districts of the city, we can observe, year after year, which ones are falling to the inexorable bobo-isation. And the suburban cities closer to the centre are also undergoing the same evolution—re: my parents’ house.

The good: it helps support the development of small commercial zones, with more local shops and livelier areas. The bad: prices aren’t going down, there are still some districts to be conquered by higher prices. The ugly: what about all those who can’t afford the rent? And are we going to keep on developing huge centers such as La Défense, when obviously the transportation system isn’t strong enough to stand more commuters? How about those who already spend 3 hours a day in the overcrowded trains?

Sure, it’s not only a Parisian problem. Nevertheless, I wonder how it will be in 10 years, and what will be the outcome of the Grand Paris project.

Two things I like

If I had to choose only a few things that I would like to accomplish in life, I’d say: build beautiful living places and run delicious, cosy restaurants with a lovely staff.

The first thing is related to my deep wish to offer people a nice place to live in. It’s not only the house: it’s also the urban organisation around. And, in a way, a lifestyle.

The second one derives from my love of food and my childhood spent in a restaurant. I also love the concept of terrasses in Paris, but more often than not the food and decor is forgettable and the service is awful. And there’s no transparency about the cuisine or the source of the food.

Eating out at the restaurant, with friends, on a terrasse, in a beautiful city: might be a bit snob, but that can’t be compared to izakayas.

Back in Paris

Paris is always the same, but I have changed. I just came back from 8 months straight in Asia, and for the first time I really felt that culture shock that everyone is talking about. Of course I have experienced a mild culture shock before: first time I came back in France after moving to Tokyo, I was annoyed at hearing people complain again, and the day of my arrival Paris was stuck under piles of snow—which meant that my luggage was, too.

This time was different. I am no longer annoyed or angered by the differences: I’m actually observing them. I’m like a stranger in my own country: I had forgotten that subway doors are not automatic, I am amazed at how people react, and I’m often surprised by how they talk to customers. But no longer annoyed. Just observing. Living with it. Like its no longer my home, like I’m no longer just another individual on the train. I’m more aware of my surroundings, of other people on the train, of fellow pedestrians.

I am also more and less self conscious at the same time. I enjoy being able to feel like an outsider and at the same time have this underlying fear of being found out as a stranger. The pleasure of watching other people live their lives, and the fear of being singled out, especially in such a big city where I used to dwell with ease. I no longer have my habits.

Yet it’s a satisfying status. I can’t wait to meet my “old” friends and chat. Like we used to do. They have changed, progressed in their lives, and so do I. I’m looking forward to our sharing everything.

Hidden pride and self-doubt

My enormous ego and equally huge amount of self-doubt are colliding into colourful fireworks.

I am proud. I was raised to be an independent, self-sustained and ambitious individual. My parents almost never congratulated me for my academic results. I have done most of my life-changing choices myself—although one might say that choosing a field of study and a country to study abroad isn’t that much of a life-changing choice. They pushed me to succeed, no matter how. They taught me never to depend on anything or anyone. And they taught me to hide this behind a veil of modesty. Yet they never taught me to fail. Nor did they teach me how to take compliments, by the way. 

I have ideals. But I’m also keen on reaching a compromise. I have giant dreams, but I’m also a pragmatic. Which makes me a bit lunatic sometimes: one day, I’m eagerly optimistic; the day after, reality hits back and pulls me down. And then I doubt. Especially because failure, even the tiniest one, hits me so hard. And compliments stress me out. 

I’m hyperactive. I love to do a thousand things at the same time. I can be a perfectionist. But I learned when to stop fiddling with details. I hate showing a final product that is just ‘good enough’, but sometimes my overworked brain says ‘stop’, and I have to settle with the ‘good enough’ version. Being constantly busy with something relieves me from the permanent self-doubting that takes place when I do nothing.

But because of this constant hyperactivity, I also need some personal, solitary downtime. Very personal, and also very ‘down’. Just to re-focus myself. But not too long so that the doubts won’t come again.

I have the same reaction to social relationships. I love meeting new people, making connections with a diverse crowd. I like listening to inspiring talks, reading investigative stories. I’m quite a heavy Twitter user. Yet sometimes I feel the need to isolate myself and just breathe in some fresh air. Just me and the sun. (Yes, I just started watching and following some beginner yoga videos.)

Recently I have been trying to make writing a relaxing activity that I could do as a “downtime occupation”. I am realizing that this is finally a bit too demanding, especially as English is not really my first language… Sorry to those whom I owe some articles.

And above all, I’m wondering whether I really want to share the things I’m writing recently.

Oh well.

That’s posted.