An attractive young woman stood in the doorway of my office. She wore little makeup and was dressed strictly for business.
“Falkenberg. Sprechen wir Englisch oder Deutsch?”
My German teacher. I understood that her name was Ms. Falkenberg and that she wanted to know whether we should speak German or English. I indicated English.
She took a seat across from me and, with a slight Oxbridge accent, said, “The Goethe Institut sent me for lessons with …” She glanced down at a slip of paper, and added, “Herr Griffon. That is you, yes?”
I said I was, then wondered whether she might appreciate an informal teaching environment. “You know, in America, we use first names. Please call me Parker.”
“Herr Griffon, we are in Germany. Begin with the formal until you’re sure you can be personal.”
I wondered whether that was guidance on German culture or a warning to maintain a professional distance and concluded it was likely both. “I understand, Ms. Falkenberg. An important first lesson.”
At our next session, Ms. Falkenberg appeared at my office door, firmly shook my hand, and opened her notebook.
My mind elsewhere, I had completely forgotten about our lesson. “I apologize,” I said. “This isn’t a good time. I’ve got a business issue I’m dealing with. Of course, I’ll pay you for the hour.”
She gave me a disapproving look I’d last seen in fourth grade. “You must prioritize your lessons, or you’ll make no progress.”
“Yes, but unless I close the deal I’m working on, it might not matter.”
“What’s the problem?”
There were a hundred reasons not to share business details with my German teacher, but I was alone in Germany, and being the boss was isolating. I needed a sounding board. “I’m negotiating an agreement with Philips of the Netherlands that would essentially fund the operation. Today they told me that a British company has offered them the same software as mine.”
“How is that possible? Your secretary says you develop the software here.”
The question caught me off guard. “You understand my business surprisingly well.”
“Obviously not. What you’re describing seems impossible.”
It should have been. I hesitated a moment before telling her why it wasn’t. When I finished, Ms. Falkenberg looked out the window. “They offer exactly the same thing you do?”
I nodded.
“How do they obtain your software?”
“Via the US, when a major version is released.”
“And how often is that?”
“More or less every quarter. It depends on the engineering schedule. Since I relocated two engineers here from the States, key parts of the test and development cycle moved with them to Munich.”
“You mean you control the release process?” she asked, looking back at me with a hint of a smile.
“Well, in a way, yes.”
She had a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe the next release is never ready for them.”
“Well, that would be, uh, …” Then I realized what she was saying.
When she saw that I understood, she again became my German teacher and said, “Bueno. We only have 45 minutes left. Today, we’re going to practice describing past events.”
I did my best to focus on German, but was mostly considering Ms. Falkenberg’s idea.
At our next lesson, I said, “Before we get started. I want to thank you for your help on Tuesday. The idea of version releases was creative. It may have saved the deal.”
She nodded.
“I don’t often get to talk with peers about business issues since moving to Munich.”
At the word ‘peers,’ her eyes narrowed slightly.
“I am curious about one thing, though. How does a German teacher come up with that idea?”
“You mean, just a German teacher?”
“No. I mean that you’re not in my industry. You came up with an approach I hadn’t considered, and I live this stuff.”
“Sometimes it takes a fresh set of eyes. Besides, I hear things in my work and put the pieces together.”
“Teaching isn’t my full-time job. I’m building a practice as a Dolmetscher, an interpreter, and Übersetzer, a translator.”
“What’s the difference?”
“When I interpret, I translate between German and Spanish in real time. It’s an exhausting process. If it’s important, such as government-to-government talks, we work in pairs, rotating every half hour or so. But when I translate legal documents, it’s different. I have to understand the concepts precisely.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“I specialized in legal linguistics at university, and much of my work involves negotiating complex agreements. Over time, I see patterns.”
“How did someone with your background become my German teacher?”
I moved to Germany from Argentina a few weeks ago and am teaching part-time as I develop my practice.
“Well, thanks again. I promise not to bore you with my business problems…”
“Please do.” She sat up straighter in her seat.
That afternoon, she proposed a solution to a patent indemnity issue that had been plaguing the Philips negotiations for weeks.
She was soon my most indispensable colleague.
I’ll share the journey every Thursday. Join us.