Spring has arrived in Fontainebleau, and, like the birds and flowers and sun, my blog is re-emerging. It has been such a long time since I last updated my personal patch of cyberspace that I can't even remember what I last wrote. My intention was that this blog would serve as a regular diary of my INSEAD activities, and thus make a nice souvenir to look back on a few years from now. Clearly, failing to update it for 4 months of a 10 month program somewhat undermines that aim. Unfortunately I don't have it in me to go back and recap the last 4 months, so I'll have to simply take up from the present, and rely on the oldest form of media, the human memory, for the intervening period.
So to the present. As I said, Spring has arrived in Fontainebleau. In Australia we don't have much of a winter, which is nice, but it denies us the soul restoring pleasure of a true spring. A few weeks ago it was dark, dreary and cold here, the forest was little more than a haunting collection of bare trees and sickly looking pines. On the rare occasion the sun came out it arrived late and left again with the population still indoors, struggling through lectures or work. Then, one day, the sun came up, and the thermometer broke into double figures. And now, suddenly, everything has changed. Seemingly out of nowhere the sun has not only returned, but seems to have set up permanent camp alone in the sky, unbothered by clouds for days on end. The footpaths are suddenly adorned with yellow and purple as once dead nature strips turn into flower beds, and slowly but surely green is returning to the forest. At the same time wintercoats have disappeared and t-shirts are re-emerging. A few brave souls have ventured to shorts and flip-flops, and its impossible to deny the enjoyment provided by the natural shortening of skirts and lowering of neck lines that accompanies the rise in temperatures.
While Spring is wholly welcomed, there is another season in full swing at Fonty, and it has a more bittersweet flavour. It's recruitment time for our class, and while it's a time that offers plenty of excitement for the myriad opportunities that seem just over the horizon, it is also a time that drives home the sad fact that, sooner or later, the INSEAD sleep must end. Recruitment is the real world, rudely knocking on the door while we try to grasp the last, fleeting moments of a pleasant dream.
An upside of recruiting at INSEAD is that it is accompanied by much less of the soul searching moralizing that marks an undergrad law student's job search. Few people indeed are wracking themselves with guilt over whether to the sell their souls in the corporate world or instead try and change the world working in low paid but meaningful non-profit or public service roles. Being older, and I think a little wiser makes the average MBA quite comfortable with selling his or her soul. The question is who is the highest bidder for that soul, and how can one ensure a good resale value for said soul a few years from now.
The downside is The Fear. Other than the lucky sponsored few, all students are haunted, to some extent at least, by The Fear, in a way that an undergraduate student, particularly in 2006, never worries. The Fear is that the job will not come. That one could invest all this time and money and effort into an MBA and then freeze when asked to figure out how many ping pong balls fit into a 747. Or that one's CV will only be compared to other INSEAD students, each one of which seems to have a more amazing previous career than the next one. And that in July, when the real world takes your classmates back into its well paid embrace, you will be left with a debt hangover to match the Greek budget, and the employment prospects of an Irish property developer, and your international outlook and diverse class mates will be of little consolation. No one talks about The Fear, but it's there. And the only way to deal with the fear is to ignore it steadfastly, and listen to the warm and fuzzy promises of the real world as potential future employers line up to dangle promises before you.
The consultants have made their pitch, all slick presentations and fancy dinners. Intriguingly, each of the consulting firms informs us that what differentiates them from the others is 'the people' and the focus on results/impact/solutions (choose your synonym). A natural cynicism aside, they did make compelling arguments, and consulting fever has hit INSEAD, sweeping all in its path. Barely a break out room can be found that isn't occupied by eager students practicing their case interview skills, gripped by excitement at the glamorous 'Up in the Air' lifestyle and the promise of 'a new challenge every day', and of course, gripped also by The Fear. It would be dishonest to leave you with the impression I was above all this, so I openly admit that mine is also one of the annoying voices floating around the west wing, distracting all those trying to study, reasoning its way to the annual income of a taxi driver, or the feasibility of entering the Norwegian broadband market.
In the next few weeks industry will strike back, seeking to lure back the seduced aspiring consultants with promises of fast career progression, real responsibility and a more friendly work-life balance. One of the major energy companies presented a few days ago, and arguably got industry off to a bad start, with one of the stranger openings to a recruitment presentations I have seen. "At our company, we take safety very seriously, so I'd like to begin our presentation by pointing out that this room has two emergency exits, one here and one there" she said, as pointed out, to a bemused looking group of MBAs, the locations of the doors to their own lecture theatre. The same doors through which they had just entered.
Recruitment aside, INSEAD continues at its usual fast pace and somewhat surreal rhythm. National Weeks have come and gone. Heart of Europe week, where I donned my German face for a week, was a great success, and ran with impressive, and distinctly cliched, efficiency. The beer was plentiful, and the fun was had by all. Following the Heart of Europe week was always going to be tough, and it fell to the Russian and Eastern Europe crowd to organise the next one, with the interestingly titled 'Iron Curtain Week'. It's not for me to tell people what to call their national weeks, but I have to admit I was surprised that the Poles, Czechs and Hungarians wanted anything to do with an Iron Curtain week, or the Friday party and its Red Army theme. True to its name, the Red Army party left carnage in its wake. For reasons unknown (but quite possibly connected to the name of the week), Iron Curtain had a hard time attracting sponsorship, and in the end Russian Standard Vodka was the lone sponsor. But they sponsored in kind, not cash.
As it turns out, even at a party where the average age is approaching 30, and the guests are amongst the most expensively educated people on the planet, serving free, unlimited and unmeasured shots of straight vodka for an evening is a bad idea. The full repercussions are still emerging, but while a nasty hang over was all that most people had to overcome, others were left with more long term damage. Of course, it would be indiscreet to recount that here.
It's hard to believe, but I think I may even be getting sun burnt out here, and my laptop is running out of juice. Aside from that, I still haven't tired of the INSEAD cafeteria, and lunch is calling.
Showing posts with label INSEAD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label INSEAD. Show all posts
Friday, March 25, 2011
Friday, October 1, 2010
Le Blog
Another Friday afternoon, and for the first time in two weeks I have time to do something unproductive - which in this case is updating my blog. Or le Blog, as I will now call it. It could be la Blog though, I'm not sure.
I've been trying to learn French for a month now, and progress is slow. The French still harbour a bit of a hope that their language can be seen as a world language, harking back to their glory days as the world's cultural leaders. I understand that desire, but I have to say that it might help if they made their language just a little bit less impenetrable to the outsider.
The basic problem with learning French is that somewhere along the line the French people seem to have lost that essential connection between the alphabet and the language, because there appears to be no true relationship between the letters on a page and the word that is spoken. The common theme is that the last syllable of a word just drops away, but not in any systematic way - just about two thirds of the time, and for no reason related to what those letters might be.
Then you get to French numbers. Up to 60, its ok, but after that it gets a little strange - to say seventy you say sixty ten. 75 is sixty fifteen. At 80 it gets better - four twenties. And if you want to get to 99, try four twenties nineteen. I suspect the reason the French are having so much trouble containing their budget deficits may be that, with such a number system, they just don't count all that well.
Trouble with the language has also led to me developing a somewhat inaccurate reputation in French class, to the great amusement of my teacher and class mates. In one of the first lessons we were asked whether we knew any french verbs. At that point the only french I knew was 'voulez vous couche avec moi', which I knew was not appropriate for a French class. However, I assumed I could use a literal translation, and 'coucher' would simply mean 'to sleep' - a perfectly innocent verb to contribute to the conversation in the right context. Not so - the verb does not mean to sleep (dormir) and does not have an innocent meaning. So in my first French class, the only thing I was able to contribute to class was a verb that basically translates as 'to shag'.
Since that point its been assumed that I regularly use this verb, and every time verbs come up, coucher is repeated as 'max's verb'. This week we learned about meals, and the French teacher specifically pointed out that I might like to use the phrase 'would you like to have breakfast with me', which I am told can only be taken one way in France.
Language aside, its been an intense couple of weeks here. Think about how much work you would have had to do at uni if you actually had to read every assigned reading for every class. Then imagine you were doing a degree compressed into half its usual length (MBAs in most of the world take two years). It makes for very busy days. My days at law school were basically spent not learning a thing for 13 weeks of semester and then studying like a mad man for two weeks before exams. Here that is not an option, as the exams start as soon as classes finish, so you have to stay on top of things as you go.
Then there is the group work. All assignments here are done in a group - the international bunch that I mentioned in the last post. Groups, I have to admit, pose a new challenge. Most of you will know that admitting I am wrong, or even entertaining the notion, is not something that comes naturally to me. Yet my group seems strangely unconvinced that I am always right. Maybe they just need to spend more time with me ;-)
Finally some favourite quotes from some of my lecturers. I should mention that one thing about this place that shows is that it takes teaching very seriously. I remember well the many research focused professors at Sydney Uni that had very little interest in teaching, and did a very poor job of it. While research is a big thing here too, the lecturers are all very good, which makes a great change. But they are all European, and while they all speak near perfect English, they still manage to drop some great quotes to liven up their classes once in a while:
Economics lecturer, as his phone started ringing mid lecture: "Oh, its my mum" - hangs up the call. He laughs - "Doesn't matter, she is half dead anyway" Realising that the class is in shocked, awkward silence: "oh, I mean deaf, not dead"
Finance lecturer (with a thick German accent): "vot iz a cashflow?" - "vell, cash flow is ven it makes ring ring, ja?" (referring to an old till)
Same finance lecturer: "But vot iz the differenz betveen Bernie Madoff and Sarkozy? Madoff goes to jail for his ponzy scheme, ja, but ze french government continues, ja?"
On a totally unrelated note, and in a move of blatant cross promotion, INSEAD have asked us to help them publicize the official blog, where I am one of quite a few contributors. It's aimed at potential MBAs, so probably of more interest to some than to others, but here is the link:
http://the-insead-mba-experience.insead.edu/
Scroll down a few entries to find the last one by yours truly.
I've been trying to learn French for a month now, and progress is slow. The French still harbour a bit of a hope that their language can be seen as a world language, harking back to their glory days as the world's cultural leaders. I understand that desire, but I have to say that it might help if they made their language just a little bit less impenetrable to the outsider.
The basic problem with learning French is that somewhere along the line the French people seem to have lost that essential connection between the alphabet and the language, because there appears to be no true relationship between the letters on a page and the word that is spoken. The common theme is that the last syllable of a word just drops away, but not in any systematic way - just about two thirds of the time, and for no reason related to what those letters might be.
Then you get to French numbers. Up to 60, its ok, but after that it gets a little strange - to say seventy you say sixty ten. 75 is sixty fifteen. At 80 it gets better - four twenties. And if you want to get to 99, try four twenties nineteen. I suspect the reason the French are having so much trouble containing their budget deficits may be that, with such a number system, they just don't count all that well.
Trouble with the language has also led to me developing a somewhat inaccurate reputation in French class, to the great amusement of my teacher and class mates. In one of the first lessons we were asked whether we knew any french verbs. At that point the only french I knew was 'voulez vous couche avec moi', which I knew was not appropriate for a French class. However, I assumed I could use a literal translation, and 'coucher' would simply mean 'to sleep' - a perfectly innocent verb to contribute to the conversation in the right context. Not so - the verb does not mean to sleep (dormir) and does not have an innocent meaning. So in my first French class, the only thing I was able to contribute to class was a verb that basically translates as 'to shag'.
Since that point its been assumed that I regularly use this verb, and every time verbs come up, coucher is repeated as 'max's verb'. This week we learned about meals, and the French teacher specifically pointed out that I might like to use the phrase 'would you like to have breakfast with me', which I am told can only be taken one way in France.
Language aside, its been an intense couple of weeks here. Think about how much work you would have had to do at uni if you actually had to read every assigned reading for every class. Then imagine you were doing a degree compressed into half its usual length (MBAs in most of the world take two years). It makes for very busy days. My days at law school were basically spent not learning a thing for 13 weeks of semester and then studying like a mad man for two weeks before exams. Here that is not an option, as the exams start as soon as classes finish, so you have to stay on top of things as you go.
Then there is the group work. All assignments here are done in a group - the international bunch that I mentioned in the last post. Groups, I have to admit, pose a new challenge. Most of you will know that admitting I am wrong, or even entertaining the notion, is not something that comes naturally to me. Yet my group seems strangely unconvinced that I am always right. Maybe they just need to spend more time with me ;-)
Finally some favourite quotes from some of my lecturers. I should mention that one thing about this place that shows is that it takes teaching very seriously. I remember well the many research focused professors at Sydney Uni that had very little interest in teaching, and did a very poor job of it. While research is a big thing here too, the lecturers are all very good, which makes a great change. But they are all European, and while they all speak near perfect English, they still manage to drop some great quotes to liven up their classes once in a while:
Economics lecturer, as his phone started ringing mid lecture: "Oh, its my mum" - hangs up the call. He laughs - "Doesn't matter, she is half dead anyway" Realising that the class is in shocked, awkward silence: "oh, I mean deaf, not dead"
Finance lecturer (with a thick German accent): "vot iz a cashflow?" - "vell, cash flow is ven it makes ring ring, ja?" (referring to an old till)
Same finance lecturer: "But vot iz the differenz betveen Bernie Madoff and Sarkozy? Madoff goes to jail for his ponzy scheme, ja, but ze french government continues, ja?"
On a totally unrelated note, and in a move of blatant cross promotion, INSEAD have asked us to help them publicize the official blog, where I am one of quite a few contributors. It's aimed at potential MBAs, so probably of more interest to some than to others, but here is the link:
http://the-insead-mba-experience.insead.edu/
Scroll down a few entries to find the last one by yours truly.
Friday, September 10, 2010
First weeks in France
My first blog entry from INSEAD, brought to you from the sunny surrounds of Fontainebleau, France.
I am sitting in the sun, enjoying the mild autumn temperatures of France in early September, basking in sunshine, listening to the gentle buzz of Friday afternoon conversations, as people celebrate the end of the first week of classes with a quiet (and subsidized) beer or wine in the INSEAD courtyard area. The chatter is quiet, partly because people are tired from a long week, partly because there is no reason to expend much energy now, with the INSEAD social scene set to come to life at another chateau party tomorrow night. Until then its all about fitting in to the French way of life, where, as I've discovered, nothing is rushed, and everything is a little subdued.
The volume may be in keeping with French custom, but the language of these conversations is certainly not. If I strain my ears I can hear a German conversation and a Spanish one, drowned out in the main by many, many different accents of English, all trying to make themselves understood. This is the first place I've ever been in my life where having fluent command of two languages is unusual for the fact that its not three or four. INSEAD make a big deal out of their internationalism, but that does not make the end result any less impressive. There are 73 different nationalities represented in my class, including seven Australians and about 25 Germans. India contributes the largest group, with 56 (of 500) students), while many smaller nations deliver only one. On arrival I was put in a small study group - the group in which I will do most of my assignments for the first two periods (ie until Christmas). Our group covers 5 of the world's 6 continents - A Frenchman, a Nigerian, a woman from Japan, a Uruguayan and an Australian.
It's promising to be a very busy year. Classes may only involve about 16 contact hours per week, but each class requires homework, pre readings and group assignments. I've been at school until about 9pm on most days that I've been here so far - quite a shock for the first week.
When the weekend rolls around though its party time here. Quite a few of the students here live in large old chateaus in groups of up to 15 or 16 students. With summer fast coming to an end, every house seems to keen to host at least one party before time runs out. On my first Saturday here I went to one my first party. The following Wednesday was a 'traffic light' party in town - just to get everyone's cards out on the table early, I guess. One feature of parties here is that they generally don't start before 10, and end equivalently late in the night / early in the morning.
Last Saturday was the Bain party. The consulting firms put a lot of time and effort into recruiting here - I've gotten letters from McKinsey and Booz, a USB stick from Bain, and my locker is secured with a BCG lock - not bad for a weeks work. But Bain have hatched a plan to get into everyone's mind early, by putting up the cash for a huge party in the first week of term. Fortunately no one from Bain actually attends, but the thousands of Euros they put up pay for 500 people to party the night away in the grounds of a French chateau, with a dance floor, marquis, professional lights and copious amounts of (real) champagne.
The parties do provide one dilemma though - most of these houses are on their own grounds, quite a long way from anywhere. There was, apparently, a time when the French didn't worry too much about drink driving, and getting home from these parties was simply a matter of dodging a few wild boar as you steered your rental car home. These days (fortunately) that has changed, and drink driving is a definite no, in France and especially at INSEAD, where just about every communication about a social event is signed off with the phrase "At INSEAD, we don't drink and drive".
The French police may do a lot more breath testing now, but there is definitely one thing they could do which would be far more effective in reducing drink driving, I think. Taxis. The French seem to take not working on a Sunday very seriously, but the fact that this extends to taxis just seems absurd. As it happened, after the Bain party, when the last bus back to town decided he could not take a single standing passenger, a good thirty of us were left standing outside said chateau, with very little idea how to get home. Calling a taxi at that time only leads to waking someone up, as most of the taxi's are private operations with their own numbers, as being told something in French. Whatever that something is, it is not "I'll be there in 15 minutes".
In the end I slept at the chateau, and could only get a lift to within about 5km of my house. In case you were wondering, ending a party by waiting for 2 hours for a bus that doesn't come, then waking up to see the aftermath of a 500 person party, and then walking 5 km to get home, is not ideal.
There is a lot more to tell about French life, but for now, the wine calls.
I am sitting in the sun, enjoying the mild autumn temperatures of France in early September, basking in sunshine, listening to the gentle buzz of Friday afternoon conversations, as people celebrate the end of the first week of classes with a quiet (and subsidized) beer or wine in the INSEAD courtyard area. The chatter is quiet, partly because people are tired from a long week, partly because there is no reason to expend much energy now, with the INSEAD social scene set to come to life at another chateau party tomorrow night. Until then its all about fitting in to the French way of life, where, as I've discovered, nothing is rushed, and everything is a little subdued.
The volume may be in keeping with French custom, but the language of these conversations is certainly not. If I strain my ears I can hear a German conversation and a Spanish one, drowned out in the main by many, many different accents of English, all trying to make themselves understood. This is the first place I've ever been in my life where having fluent command of two languages is unusual for the fact that its not three or four. INSEAD make a big deal out of their internationalism, but that does not make the end result any less impressive. There are 73 different nationalities represented in my class, including seven Australians and about 25 Germans. India contributes the largest group, with 56 (of 500) students), while many smaller nations deliver only one. On arrival I was put in a small study group - the group in which I will do most of my assignments for the first two periods (ie until Christmas). Our group covers 5 of the world's 6 continents - A Frenchman, a Nigerian, a woman from Japan, a Uruguayan and an Australian.
It's promising to be a very busy year. Classes may only involve about 16 contact hours per week, but each class requires homework, pre readings and group assignments. I've been at school until about 9pm on most days that I've been here so far - quite a shock for the first week.
When the weekend rolls around though its party time here. Quite a few of the students here live in large old chateaus in groups of up to 15 or 16 students. With summer fast coming to an end, every house seems to keen to host at least one party before time runs out. On my first Saturday here I went to one my first party. The following Wednesday was a 'traffic light' party in town - just to get everyone's cards out on the table early, I guess. One feature of parties here is that they generally don't start before 10, and end equivalently late in the night / early in the morning.
Last Saturday was the Bain party. The consulting firms put a lot of time and effort into recruiting here - I've gotten letters from McKinsey and Booz, a USB stick from Bain, and my locker is secured with a BCG lock - not bad for a weeks work. But Bain have hatched a plan to get into everyone's mind early, by putting up the cash for a huge party in the first week of term. Fortunately no one from Bain actually attends, but the thousands of Euros they put up pay for 500 people to party the night away in the grounds of a French chateau, with a dance floor, marquis, professional lights and copious amounts of (real) champagne.
The parties do provide one dilemma though - most of these houses are on their own grounds, quite a long way from anywhere. There was, apparently, a time when the French didn't worry too much about drink driving, and getting home from these parties was simply a matter of dodging a few wild boar as you steered your rental car home. These days (fortunately) that has changed, and drink driving is a definite no, in France and especially at INSEAD, where just about every communication about a social event is signed off with the phrase "At INSEAD, we don't drink and drive".
The French police may do a lot more breath testing now, but there is definitely one thing they could do which would be far more effective in reducing drink driving, I think. Taxis. The French seem to take not working on a Sunday very seriously, but the fact that this extends to taxis just seems absurd. As it happened, after the Bain party, when the last bus back to town decided he could not take a single standing passenger, a good thirty of us were left standing outside said chateau, with very little idea how to get home. Calling a taxi at that time only leads to waking someone up, as most of the taxi's are private operations with their own numbers, as being told something in French. Whatever that something is, it is not "I'll be there in 15 minutes".
In the end I slept at the chateau, and could only get a lift to within about 5km of my house. In case you were wondering, ending a party by waiting for 2 hours for a bus that doesn't come, then waking up to see the aftermath of a 500 person party, and then walking 5 km to get home, is not ideal.
There is a lot more to tell about French life, but for now, the wine calls.
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