The new colleague and the list of three things
At the mairie of Ambalavao there's a custom Wesley has kept for years. When a new colleague comes to work — intern, temporary helper, whatever — Wesley gives them three instructions. Always three. Never more. First: where the windows you can open are. Second: how the in/out tray works. Third: that if they don't understand something in a file, they ask before signing it, because a signature in the wrong place can delay an agreement by three weeks.
No welcome speech. No formal introduction. Wesley says those three things, points to the desk where the person is going to sit, and goes back to his work. If the next day the new colleague has opened the window before switching on the light, Wesley knows they listened. If they haven't opened it, he repeats it once more. Just once.
That way of transmitting — concrete, no frills, no forced warmth — is what shows in the portrait. Wesley looks straight at you. Mouth closed. Eyes attentive. The camel coat gives him a formality that doesn't ask permission, and the tweed vest says what Wesley would never say out loud: that clothes are structure too.







