How the one and only HOC cat loves not only coliving and community, but Work of co — and coworking — too!
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I’m Fluffy — Mira, to those meeting me for the first time.
You may remember me from King Square Mansion. That’s where I live. An excellent house, even if I say so myself. I have my favourite spots, my regular routes and, naturally, a fairly good idea of what everyone gets up to.
But there is one problem.
I am very curious.
So I don’t always stay at home.
Lately, I kept hearing about a place not too far from where I live. Seef Yard. Six beautiful houses surrounding a large green garden, home to all sorts of people. Expats, young professionals and students. Some stay for a while; others for much longer.
But apparently, they had come up with something new there.
A place to work.
Now, I have to admit that I have always found the whole concept of working rather peculiar. People sit down somewhere, open a laptop, stare at it for hours and then call it a productive day.
But never mind.
I decided to investigate.
And I must admit: the moment I stepped inside, I understood why people would happily spend their day here.
It doesn’t feel like an office at all.
More like a warm embrace.
There is room for 47 people. They all have somewhere to work, but fortunately, not all of those places look the same.
Some are reminiscent of those large communal reading tables that were once so popular. You know the kind: long tables where people would sit together to read, write and study.
Although I suspect there is rather more Excel involved here.
There are smaller, more sheltered spots too. And for those who really want to be left alone, there is even a private office.
Understandable.
Sometimes you have simply had enough of everyone.
There are two cosy meeting rooms. Not huge, chilly conference rooms where twelve people sit around a table while one person gives a presentation that could just as easily have been an email.
And then there is the lounge.
You can work there, drink coffee, talk, do absolutely nothing for a while or play chess.
I inspected the chessboard.
Far too many pieces.
And apparently, you aren’t allowed to push a single one of them off the table.
I fail to see the appeal.
Volgend artikel
Byung-Chul Han's The Disappearance of Rituals offers a language for something many of us feel: that modern life has lost some of its rhythm. This article reflects on how coliving can restore a sense of presence through shared ritual.
Verder lezenFurther along, I discovered another room that apparently refuses to decide exactly what it wants to be.
You can play table tennis there. Or pool. Organise something together. And when autumn and winter return, it will host the weekly workout.
And then I discovered what may well be my favourite spot.
A quiet room.
A small space where you can retreat when your head is full, you have had enough of talking or you simply need a moment of nothingness.
It looks out onto a small green courtyard.
Perhaps humans understand these things better than I thought.
Because the longer I wandered through Work of co, the more I realised that thought had gone into more than just where people work.
Someone had also considered how people feel while they are doing it.
But Work of co doesn’t end at the front door.
Because outside lies Seef Yard.
Six beautiful HOC coliving properties surrounding a shared garden, offering rooms, studios and apartments where people from all kinds of places, carrying all kinds of stories, find a home — temporarily, or perhaps not so temporarily after all.
At its heart lies a small natural swimming pond.
And a family of bantam chickens roams the garden.
I studied them extensively.
Purely out of professional interest.
And everywhere you go, you meet people.
Younger people and older people. People who were born here and people who come from the other side of the world. People with different languages, backgrounds, cultures and beliefs.
No one here needs to fit into a particular box.
Age, gender, origin, culture or faith: none of these determines whether you belong.
Everyone is welcome.
And perhaps that was the most remarkable thing I discovered during my little expedition.
Work of co is beautiful. Absolutely.
But in the end, it isn’t the beautiful tables, the comfortable chairs, the meeting rooms, the chessboard or even my new favourite quiet room that make you want to stay.
It’s the people.
Eventually, I went home again.
Back to King Square Mansion.
To my own favourite spots, my own people and my own windowsills.
But I think I may stroll over to Seef Yard again soon.
Fluffy
Resident of King Square Mansion.
Occasional explorer.
Community observer.
Unofficial inspector of Work of co.co.
