When my golf partners took me out for supper after the game one of them asked me what I thought the main differences were between Asians and Westerners. Since we were eating supper, let me tell you what I told them, beginning with food (since we were eating supper at the time!)
In Asia, I have discovered, everything revolves around food. I remember my first week in Singapore I told my boss I wanted to speak with him about an important matter. He responded: “Let’s go eat.” After we ordered the meal and we began to eat, I began to discuss the business matter on hand. His response was; “Wait, when we finish eating.” Eating in Asia is a very ritualistic and one better not break the pattern. For example, when I go to Chinese weddings they always serve white rice at the end, after about 10 courses. The correct response, even if you are starving, is to reject the rice. Why? Because it would be an insult to the host if you had to fill yourself on rice after a ten course meal!
Also in Asia, they bring the food to the table in the order in which it is prepared. There is no European order like soup to nuts. In fact, soup is usually served last, which still blows me away. Asians seem to eat lots of things in restaurants but always in small quantities. When I am sitting with colleagues and there are 10 dishes on the table, I find the one I like and gorge on that, leaving the rest of the eating and tasting to the Asians. I am not a ‘grazer’ like they are.
Social security is a very interesting topic in Asia. I assume you know what the social security plan is in Asia. Have lots of children. There is not one Asian adult I have every met that does not support their parents, even if their parents hardly need their support. Westerners tend to put their old in old age homes and so on. That would never happen here. The youngest generally lives with the parents and does not marry if that is what it comes to or if all the kids marry, the parents live with one of the kids, if not in the same house, at least in the same compound or area in the village.
Their sense of space is also very different. Yesterday, one of the partners touched me on the thigh which had me wondering a bit. Today, another colleague touched me the same way. Either they are expecting to receive their Biblical birthright from a blind Jacob (was it?) or they are just touchy-feely. There is no such thing as personal space. I am going to go to the airport in a few minutes, and I know there is no such thing as a line. I thought Israel was bad, but Asia a hundred times worse. People will bud in, there will be no lines except for western tourists not knowing any better) and everyone will be touching and pushing. Men walk down the road holding hands, as do women for that matter. While waiting at a bus stop or worse, sitting or standing on a bus, there will be people all over you. If you need to maintain the western one yard or one meter of space, never visit Asia…you will always feel uncomfortable.
I also think Buddhism plays a major role in how Asians interact with each other and with foreigners. Since they believe in an afterlife and working towards Nirvana they have to continually make merit on earth. That is why, by the way, I find it so contradictory how they behave at airports, but that is another story. I almost think that Buddhism leads to a certain passivity but in reading Aug San Su Chi’s book ( my apologies for the spelling) she says Buddhists have to make their own destiny.
The most startling difference, though, I think, is western creativity, spontaneity and problem solving skills. These are not highly valued in the east and as a result, Asians make great factory workers and so on, but not that great leaders and problem solvers, in my opinion anyway and those of the leaders who are trying to reform education to make it more western. I certainly hope they do not throw out the baby with the bath water but maintain their discipline, hard work and diligence.
I know everything that I told him is very controversial and open to much stereotyping on my part, but he did ask and I did answer him in the way I have written.
p.s how could I possibly forget about smoking. Asians smoke everywhere. It was sort of shocking for me today in this meeting in a beautiful board room around a mahogany table when the chairmen lit up. They smoke during meals, they smoke in the bathroom and I presume they smoke in bed...to be verified by someone else!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
The business of golf
In my wildest dreams I could never imagine waking up in the early morning, getting on an airplane, travelling to a different country, being picked up by a driver from my own company and then taken to the most beautiful golf course I have ever seen and all for a game of golf!
I sometimes have to pinch myself to believe this is real. In Asia, before you do business, you must establish a relationship with your potential customers or partners either over a few meals (normally) or some other activity…like a golf game! In the interests of confidentiality, I will not say what country I am in now, but we are in the middle of negotiations to set up private schools in the whole country and are really working on a very big deal with some developers and other partners. I sat at a table this morning when they were discussing millions of dollars, joint-stock ventures, arbitration, amortization payments etc. I almost feel like I am Daniel. One of the partners told me that one of the key components of the deal was that I had to speak and win the confidence of the people around the table. No pressure, really. I speak English, I am white, and I have grey hair, (according to Sylvia anyway). In Canada, at least I have to say something worthwhile to be heard. Here all I have to do is say something.
I said to my boss the other day;“ when is my job going to begin” as we were at a cocktail party mingling with people at the Singapore embassy. This is your job, he said. Sounds good to me. Just waiting for a few minutes before I fly back to Bangkok. If I get in early enough, who knows, maybe I will play golf to-night. I threatened Daniel that he would have to play golf when he got off the plane. I think he assumed I was kidding.
I sometimes have to pinch myself to believe this is real. In Asia, before you do business, you must establish a relationship with your potential customers or partners either over a few meals (normally) or some other activity…like a golf game! In the interests of confidentiality, I will not say what country I am in now, but we are in the middle of negotiations to set up private schools in the whole country and are really working on a very big deal with some developers and other partners. I sat at a table this morning when they were discussing millions of dollars, joint-stock ventures, arbitration, amortization payments etc. I almost feel like I am Daniel. One of the partners told me that one of the key components of the deal was that I had to speak and win the confidence of the people around the table. No pressure, really. I speak English, I am white, and I have grey hair, (according to Sylvia anyway). In Canada, at least I have to say something worthwhile to be heard. Here all I have to do is say something.
I said to my boss the other day;“ when is my job going to begin” as we were at a cocktail party mingling with people at the Singapore embassy. This is your job, he said. Sounds good to me. Just waiting for a few minutes before I fly back to Bangkok. If I get in early enough, who knows, maybe I will play golf to-night. I threatened Daniel that he would have to play golf when he got off the plane. I think he assumed I was kidding.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Trains, Bikes and Buses
It is Sunday in Myanmar and like all Sundays, I always plan to do something different. Today, I was planning on visiting an orphanage run by a cousin of one of our teachers but the government still does not allow foreigners into the Irrawaddy Delta area so that put an end to that idea.I decided instead to take the train . Why? Because everyone from the Myanmar teacher to the bell boys told me it was crowded, dangerous and a horrible experience. How could I resist such a temptation?
I had the bellboy write in Myanmar that I wanted to travel on the circle line which essentially takes about two hours to circumnavigate Yangon. Great idea, I thought, but I either missed this train or it does not exist. However, there was a train going to the north west Yangon to a place called Insein (where the infamous jail is located). The jail, incidentally is in a rather nondescript area between two stalls of market stores and a little discreet sign saying ‘Yangon correctional institute.’ That is like calling the Gestapo an improvement facility.
When I went to buy my ticket I said Insein ( pronounced insane) and put my few kyats on the counter. Unlike everyone else, I was told I had to pay with American money. Who has American money in Myanmar? They do not even have banks or ATM machines. When I finally borrowed a dollar from another tourist (the only one of thousands of people in the train station), they thankfully took it and waved me to an office around the corner. When I got inside, the train officer asked to see my passport and asked me to write the purpose of my visit on an official looking piece of papter. He then proceeded to write the ticket in triplicate. You have to understand that everyone else simply got a stub and off they went. I do not even think there was a guard on the train to collect tickets!
The train live up to its’ billing by the way. It was crowded, hot and falling apart at the seams. The aisles were not only full of people but huge bags of produce, furniture people were bringing home, and various bits of equipment. Thankfully there were no animals on board. The floors were wooden, the ceilings chipping away and there with wooden slat benches on either side of the train. I had to literally twist my body to look out the window so I sat on the table in the middle of the isle. I later found out it belonged to one of the passengers who was too polite to ask me to get off of it. In fact, everyone offered me a seat and forced people to move or get up. I think it was because I was an’ honoured’ tourist (or maybe because of my age), but there sure appeared to be people much older.
At every station, sellers came on to sell drinks and other ‘stuff’ I could not recognize. Water was popular. The guy would have a round bucket filled with water with about two or three silver cups. When people ordered water, they were given the goblet to drink out of and then passed it on to the next customer. It actually reminded me of doing the same thing when I went to the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow in the l970’s. Even though we all drank out of the same cup, I did not see anyone die on the train.
When I got to Insein, I got off the train and found one of the ubiquitous bike guys who gave me a tour of his town. There were the markets and so on, but he insisted on taking me to the pagodas. Since you can’t wear shoes or socks at these places, I just kept my socks in my pocket so I just had to take off my shoes. He also took me to the banks of the river where I saw how ‘real’ people live, in open air shacks. There were no windows, air conditioners or running water but everyone spent the day in each other’s house from what I could see and seemed to be having a grand old time.
I took a picture of one of the houses and a guy came yelling out after me. I thought he was going to yell at me for taking a picture of his house, but instead wanted me to come inside and take more pictures.Since I was anxious to get back to Yangon…it seemed like it was about 100 degrees Fahrenheit, I declined. The thought of the pool at the hotel held a certain allure at this time of day. I thought it would sort of be romantic to take the bus back but the romance quickly disappeared as people crowded in and inevitably found space where no space appeared to be had. Eventually I had to get off to breath for a bit, but eventually took another bigger bus and arrived downtown, sort of safe and sound. When I got home I washed my hands and the sink turned black from holding the railings of the bus and train, I suppose.
I am glad I went. When I told one of the teachers on Monday what I did, he said; “you mean, there are trains in Myanmar?”
The people you meet along the way!
As I have said so often, the great thing about living and working overseas is the people you meet along the way. We are doing some business in Vietnam and our partners are very interesting characters. They were both born in Vietnam around 1969 so if you know anything about modern history, this should give you an idea about their backgrounds. One of the partners happens to be exuberant, talkative and outgoing. The other one is quiet and pensive.
The other night they started to talk about themselves over dinner and I heard the following story. The quiet one was born in the south, the site of heavy fighting in the Vietnam War or, as is commonly known in Vietnam, the American War. This man’s father broke from his own family and became a Vietcong and runner between the north and south. His father’s sister, who he seldom speaks to to-day, sided with the Americans. As is so often the case in a war where a country fights against itself, like the American Civil War as an example, families divide with wounds that never quite heal.
Unfortunately this man’s father often had to leave his wife and young son behind, as he trekked back and forth between the north and south and eventually the boy and his mother were arrested and jailed. Over the course of a week his mother was beaten, tortured and eventually killed. An American journalist somehow covered the story and miraculously his own life was spared. He later went on to become a successful business person and now very much wants to give back to his family and country as the only child of this couple by getting involved in education and improving the quality of life in his homeland.
There are so many parts to this story that resonate for me. His father went on to become a very high ranking officer in the Vietnam secret service, which in itself, is quite interesting as he described his relationship with his father. He is determined to meet the journalist that saved his life which hopefully I can help him with, and it is not too hard to see how his character was shaped so early in life.He was three years old when his mother was killed.
It is so clear to me that a person’s personality, once developed before the age of five, never changes. When I think back to my own children or myself, for that matter, I might be using bigger words now or thinking about fancier concepts, but the character I exhibit is still the same crazy person, to put it as politiely as I can, as I was over 60 years ago. Character, it seems to me, does not change. As for the nature versus nurture argument, it seems to be somewhat of a red herring, but as I learn more and more about this man, I am sure it will become more and more obvious to me how and why his character developed as it did.
Talking about personalities, can’t wait to catch up with Daniel and Alana who are visiting next week.
The other night they started to talk about themselves over dinner and I heard the following story. The quiet one was born in the south, the site of heavy fighting in the Vietnam War or, as is commonly known in Vietnam, the American War. This man’s father broke from his own family and became a Vietcong and runner between the north and south. His father’s sister, who he seldom speaks to to-day, sided with the Americans. As is so often the case in a war where a country fights against itself, like the American Civil War as an example, families divide with wounds that never quite heal.
Unfortunately this man’s father often had to leave his wife and young son behind, as he trekked back and forth between the north and south and eventually the boy and his mother were arrested and jailed. Over the course of a week his mother was beaten, tortured and eventually killed. An American journalist somehow covered the story and miraculously his own life was spared. He later went on to become a successful business person and now very much wants to give back to his family and country as the only child of this couple by getting involved in education and improving the quality of life in his homeland.
There are so many parts to this story that resonate for me. His father went on to become a very high ranking officer in the Vietnam secret service, which in itself, is quite interesting as he described his relationship with his father. He is determined to meet the journalist that saved his life which hopefully I can help him with, and it is not too hard to see how his character was shaped so early in life.He was three years old when his mother was killed.
It is so clear to me that a person’s personality, once developed before the age of five, never changes. When I think back to my own children or myself, for that matter, I might be using bigger words now or thinking about fancier concepts, but the character I exhibit is still the same crazy person, to put it as politiely as I can, as I was over 60 years ago. Character, it seems to me, does not change. As for the nature versus nurture argument, it seems to be somewhat of a red herring, but as I learn more and more about this man, I am sure it will become more and more obvious to me how and why his character developed as it did.
Talking about personalities, can’t wait to catch up with Daniel and Alana who are visiting next week.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Gringorten's Do Bangkok
Gerry and Eva are now gone and Doren and Hilary leave tomorrow. Showing the Gringorten’s around town was admittedly a lot of fun. I had no idea the grandchildren were coming, so I quickly had to change direction and figure out what kids might like in Bangkok, quite the challenge in the City of Angels or Kuntep!
The first day, in spite of the kids, we did what every tourist must do .. ride down the Chao Phraya River to Ratanakosin island and explore the Grand Palace. It was even more magnificent than I remember it from last year. I think the reason why is that I have since visited Wats or Temples in three different countries and all over Thailand and I see how truly amazing this one is in terms of its architectural wonder, the gleaming colours in the burning sun, the mosaic encrusted pillars and the rich marble and gold everywere (hey, maybe I should write for the Thailand tourist board).
I couldn’t believe the food Doron ,Hilary and the kids were eating. I wouldn’t even look at the street food they seemed to gorging on and enjoying, I might add. They apparently did not get sick so it must be all right, I suppose. Maybe I will start eating some of it, if I can get up the nerve! Eva was incredible and did not seem to be affected in any way by jet lag and seemed to be carrying on at the same pace as everyone else, even though she just came in at midnight and started touring with everyone else the next day at 6 am.
After the Grand Palace we got back on the river (on a boat of course) and went to the wholesale flower market. Because it was only about 4 pm nothing much was happening
(it really is all about night market) and as always happens, a nice university student told us the night market was not going to get underway for an hour or two so we should take a canal tour through the Thonburi side of the river and see where the flowers came from . He negotiated for us with the longboat driver and as usual, this turned out to be the highlight of the trip for Doron and Hilary, I would think. In terms of sightseeing, you have to have a direction and general plan, but you have to be open to adventure and be willing to be flexible.
Since the kids were so amazing, I decided to give them a treat the next day and spend a kids day! We went to the Sampan zoo and animal farm and tramped around looking at the crocodiles and elephants and saw the invariable shows.
I must say watching elephants play football disturbed me more than a little, but is it any worse, I wonder, than the men dressed up as warriors re-enacting a historical battle scene? At least the warriors have a choice to prostitute themselves, the animals don’t. Similarly with the crocodiles being subjected to the poking and prodding of the keepers who eventually stuck their heads in their mouths. It’s show business for sure but somehow very disturbing, although I just turned on the television and saw a news item that Siamese crocodiles are almost declared extinct and they seemed to have hundreds of them at this zoo. Every zoo keeper in the world says that they are doing a good job of preservation and who knows
, maybe they are , but elephants playing football?
The Rose Garden was next store and we only had time essentially to eat there. Sylvia, you are right …the food was excellent. It is only 60 kilometers from Bangkok but about two hours by car because of the horrific traffic. Don’t quite know who is more exhausted by all this adventure!
The first day, in spite of the kids, we did what every tourist must do .. ride down the Chao Phraya River to Ratanakosin island and explore the Grand Palace. It was even more magnificent than I remember it from last year. I think the reason why is that I have since visited Wats or Temples in three different countries and all over Thailand and I see how truly amazing this one is in terms of its architectural wonder, the gleaming colours in the burning sun, the mosaic encrusted pillars and the rich marble and gold everywere (hey, maybe I should write for the Thailand tourist board).
I couldn’t believe the food Doron ,Hilary and the kids were eating. I wouldn’t even look at the street food they seemed to gorging on and enjoying, I might add. They apparently did not get sick so it must be all right, I suppose. Maybe I will start eating some of it, if I can get up the nerve! Eva was incredible and did not seem to be affected in any way by jet lag and seemed to be carrying on at the same pace as everyone else, even though she just came in at midnight and started touring with everyone else the next day at 6 am.
After the Grand Palace we got back on the river (on a boat of course) and went to the wholesale flower market. Because it was only about 4 pm nothing much was happening
(it really is all about night market) and as always happens, a nice university student told us the night market was not going to get underway for an hour or two so we should take a canal tour through the Thonburi side of the river and see where the flowers came from . He negotiated for us with the longboat driver and as usual, this turned out to be the highlight of the trip for Doron and Hilary, I would think. In terms of sightseeing, you have to have a direction and general plan, but you have to be open to adventure and be willing to be flexible.
Since the kids were so amazing, I decided to give them a treat the next day and spend a kids day! We went to the Sampan zoo and animal farm and tramped around looking at the crocodiles and elephants and saw the invariable shows.
I must say watching elephants play football disturbed me more than a little, but is it any worse, I wonder, than the men dressed up as warriors re-enacting a historical battle scene? At least the warriors have a choice to prostitute themselves, the animals don’t. Similarly with the crocodiles being subjected to the poking and prodding of the keepers who eventually stuck their heads in their mouths. It’s show business for sure but somehow very disturbing, although I just turned on the television and saw a news item that Siamese crocodiles are almost declared extinct and they seemed to have hundreds of them at this zoo. Every zoo keeper in the world says that they are doing a good job of preservation and who knows
, maybe they are , but elephants playing football?The Rose Garden was next store and we only had time essentially to eat there. Sylvia, you are right …the food was excellent. It is only 60 kilometers from Bangkok but about two hours by car because of the horrific traffic. Don’t quite know who is more exhausted by all this adventure!
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