How strange the world is ...
I've spent this week in Budapest. I've been working, from nine in the morning to six in the evening, closed into a narrow room without a window to look outside at the clear blue sky of these first days of Spring, brainstorming with a group of Swedish and Hungarian colleagues. My ethic and professional principles forbid me to openly express what I feel about these ways of working. It's highs and lows.I would have preferred to walk outside in the streets, among the people of this town, possibly with a camera in the hands. Yet, I wouldn't be here if I hadn't to spend all that time sitting in that room. I can't help it.It's a pity. This town has so much to be discovered that a week would not be sufficient. I would even like to have the time to meet with three of the 591 "spacers" living in town or in places not far from here. This situation leads me to open my eyes wider than usual when I'm out of office in a foreign country. It's my hunger for experience, a compulsory attitude to sample the world that I'm walking through.
In one of my lonely walks, today, while all my colleagues were diligently queuing up to get their meal at the local canteen, I stepped outside the office and reached a shopping mall not far from our premises. As I was looking for an electronic amenities shop, I spotted a large led screen over the entrance of a big store showing nice photographs. As I got closer to read the letter written aside, I realized that those pictures belonged to one of the three Spacers, Emese Altnoder. I can't describe the emotions I felt. I felt as if those pictures were talking about myself and in some extent it was. So I took a picture with my mobile: just to show it to my 591 pals.
Once out of office, back in my hotel room, I made a quick search on the web and discovered that Emese is right in these days exposing her pictures in a gallery (Harom Hét) that's less that 200 mt far from my work place. I couldn't do anything else but smile. If I only discovered it before I could have made my visit to the gallery and maybe meet Emese. It will certainly be for the next time. This working week will end tomorrow at noon, when I'll grab a taxi to the airport.