The Story of a Trip

On April 15^th my wife drove me to the airport so I could begin another 12 day around the world trip. No sooner had I passed through security when the Skype app on my phone beeped. One of my clients that was supposed to meet me in a few days discovered that, although his visa to travel from China to Japan was valid, his passport did not have the required 6 months validity to allow him to enter the country and it would require ten business days to get his China passport reissued. Two days of meetings scheduled with a potential Japanese partner were suddenly off. I had too many other meetings planned to cancel the trip but I had to hope that hour two of my trip went better than hour one.

After a short flight to Washington where I was catching my international flight, I found a seat in the lounge and worked on a presentation I wanted to finish before spending the next 20 hours in transit. A text message came in – did you hear about Boston? My response was a simple “no, what happened”? The unbelievable news came back so I immediately checked the internet for details. I have relatives in Boston and was fairly sure I knew at least a dozen people who were running the marathon. As I searched for stories on internet I thought about the day, many years before, that I ran the Boston Marathon and how crowded it was at the start and finish. My thought was that there could be hundreds dead or injured. Reports were still jumbled as I went to the gate to catch my flight but it was clear there had been both death and critical injuries. I found out that flights from Boston and New York were stopped due to the fear of a terrorist attack. Washington flights were still allowed to proceed. I wondered if this was an isolated event or the first stage of broader plot. I needed to wait another 8 hours when I landed in Zurich before I had more details. Tragedy often brings perspective. How could I worry about the minor issues with my trip in light of what was happening in Boston?

I walked off the plane in Switzerland and checked my phone for news – several emails from all over the world expressing concern about the events in Boston. Anytime there is a terrorist act or major weather event (hurricane, etc) in the US, I get email expressing concern from friends in Asia. They know I come from a big family that is spread around the country. I have always found these emails a comforting verification that people actually do care. I read several reports from Boston on-line but the story was still unfolding. There were no additional bombs and number of fatalities and injuries was less than I expected. I went to my gate for another long flight and watched the unbelievably tough security at an El Al gate for a flight to Tel Aviv. Each bombing in America seems an anomaly in the generally safe environment we have. The Israelis have a much different situation which added more perspective to the complicated feelings I was experiencing. El Al probably has the best airport security in the world. As I took a picture of the Swiss mountains, a man in a dark suit approached me and asked if I was on the flight to Tel Aviv. I was happy to respond, “no, I am on the flight at the next gate”. His look said “clear the area”. I didn’t comment as I moved toward my gate.

I left the efficient and very secure Swiss airport for the more “interesting” environment of Bangkok. Customs was quick and the traffic light on the cross town trip to my hotel. After a visit to the gym, I had a short meeting and a dinner of local food with an Australian buddy and his Thai colleague. My Aussie friend speaks Russian and Spanish in addition to English but his efforts to speak Thai brought quizzical looks from the waiter and bursts of high energy laughter from his colleague. I guess that’s why I leave my attempts at speaking Thai to “sewa dee” (hello) and “kop kun krap” (thank you).

I got a few hours’ sleep and left the hotel at 4am for a 6am departure for Tokyo. I am not sure why any flight needs to leave for anywhere at 6am but at least I was upgraded to first class and slept for five hours of the six hour flight. After another gym visit and dinner by myself, I focused on getting some sleep but stayed awake longer than I intended listening to CNN  reports on the Boston story.

Before the trip I made a conscious decision to try to do few new things (or normal things at new places) on this trip. I was fortunate to play golf at a course I had never played on my first full day in the country. On Saturday, friends took me to a part of the city I had never seen to watch a flamenco dancing show one of their colleagues was in. Afterward, I went for an early dinner with the group – the lone outsider with a close knit office group. I always enjoy interacting with groups of people that work together in Japan. This bunch was extremely close and it was fun getting to know them. I have done business with their company for longer than any of them have been employed. The younger people who had limited experience with foreigners were surprised to listen to me tell stories about the history of their company and stories about their boss. Good fun.

CNN and BBC kept me updated on what was happening in Boston. One of the bombers was already dead and pictures of his accomplice (and younger brother) appeared constantly on the TV screen in my room. It seemed there was no broader threat related to this incident. I focused on the coming week. My life went on while several dozens in Boston were left to deal with injuries that will change their lives forever.

 

In the hotel lobby, I checked my watch. I knew it wasn’t 4am so it seemed I needed a watch battery. After morning meetings and lunch, I had some time in the afternoon so I asked the concierge at the hotel where I could get my battery replaced. She gave me a map and I headed off for a nearby 8 story electronics store.  In the US, getting a new watch battery is a 10 minute exercise at a local shop. In Japan it was more of an adventure. A few steps before I entered the main entrance of the “BIC Camera” Electronics store, I was bombarded with greeting shouts of “Irrashaimase” – the typical greeting when you enter a shop in
Japan - just a little more “over the top” at BIC Camera than in most places. I had been told I could get a watch battery on the 5^th floor which turned out to be incorrect. I wandered around looking for a clerk willing to make eye contact with a foreigner. Despite being the land of great service, store clerks who don’t speak English often do their best not to interact with foreigners -  fearing that they might not be able to communicate. Using a combination of my gaijin nature and Japanese, I finally invaded the personal space of a clerk so he couldn’t look away and asked in Japanese where I could get a watch battery. Relieved that this was not an English test, the clerk could not have been more helpful explaining that I could "bring my watch back to life" in the far corner of the sixth floor near the service counter. A minute later I presented myself at the watch battery area only to be asked to talk to the same person after moving several feet to my right where a sign said the equivalent of “enter here”. In my hometown, getting a watch battery is accomplished by saying, “could you replace the battery?”  No additional questions are usually asked. Things are a little more complicated at BIC Camera. After looking over my watch the clerk began 30 seconds of rapid fire Japanese that went beyond my limited vocabulary of things related to watches. I picked up “breaking the seal” and “not sure” and “depth of 100 meters”. Rather than engage in a conversation about the fact that I wasn’t planning on testing the watch guarantee by swimming to a depth of 100 meters anytime soon, I did what I often have to do when speaking Japanese. I guessed and I faked it. Rather than admit I was not exactly sure what he said, I took the part I understood and ran with it. “So desu ne, zen zen mondai nai, daijobu desu”. “Is that so, no problem, it’s ok. I followed with, "how much? and how long”? "How much" was the key. Since he replied 930 Yen ($10) and "san ju pun" (30 minutes), I was pretty sure he was not planning an expensive major tune up. Reminding myself to brush up on my watch related Japanese vocabulary; I took my claim number and told the clerk I would return in 30 minutes. My mission in those 30 minutes was to find the high end but small restaurant where I had been invited for dinner that evening. The friend I was meeting always picks interesting places but they are often hard for him to find let alone a foreigner from out of town. Fortunately, he had sent enough info for me to look the restaurant up in Google Maps and get a street level picture of the front door. I found it in less than 15 minutes and went back to pick up my watch. I paid my 930 Yen and watched the clerk carefully inspect my watch before handing it over to me. Nobody does attention to detail like the Japanese. I solemnly promised not to take the watch on a diving trip, bowed and headed back to the hotel.

 

That evening with Google Maps leading the way I confidently made my way to the appointed restaurant and spied my host standing in the street scanning the various signs in search of the restaurant he had selected. Doing my best ninja imitation I snuck up behind him and tapped on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I know where it is”, I said. His face turned quizzical and I held up my iPhone showing the map.

I moved on to Osaka for a few days and stopped in LA on the way home to see my younger daughter. By the time I arrived in North Carolina, the Boston bombing was no longer leading the news cycle but was still being discussed. Life goes on. As I write this a few weeks later, the story is mostly a memory to the general public. I guess that is natural but the fact remains that those directly affected by the bombing have senselessly had their lives changed forever. Of the more than 120 around the world trips I have taken over the years, this one will stay in my memory because of what happened in a place that was not on my itinerary.

Taxing Matters

Today is tax day in the US. I think it goes without saying that most cultures are united in their dislike of the government getting into their pockets any more than necessary although there certainly are differences as to what various cultures think of as “necessary”. Europeans seem to have the greatest tolerance for high taxes but, of course, there has to be some way to pay for all those weeks of vacation and social benefits that some other regions of the world (including North America) as a general rule don’t get.
 

Tax Day is upon us

 We have a President that is in hot pursuit of what he believes is a tax policy that requires a “little bit more” out of those he thinks should pay what he deems their “fair share”.  It costs a lot of money to have all those secret service agents on the golf course after burning up copious amounts of jet fuel and advance team personnel hours getting the POTUS to his “home” state of Hawaii or is it Illinois? Do you think the secret service agents do double duty - protecting the President’s (golf) balls from going OB? But I digress.

In 2009, according to a memo from the Joint Committee on Taxation, a bi-partisan Congressional committee, only 49 percent of Americans owed money on their Federal income tax returns. For tax year 2011, the non-partisan Tax Policy Center estimated that only 54 percent of Americans would pay any amount of Federal income tax. The top 20 percent of Americans earn 53.4 percent of the total U.S. income, but pay 67.2 percent of total income tax [source: Tax Policy Center].  Maybe government spending is the problem our leader should be focused on given the President doesn't seem to feel half of the population should pay any tax.

Why is the fair share of tax for half of the citizens in the country – zero? I think our tax policy could be improved but I also think everyone should pay something even if it is a token amount.

The ex-pat has a completely different situation than half of Americans who pay no tax. The ex-pat pays in the country they live in and in the US even if they didn’t set foot in the America one day in the year.

The US is one of the only countries in the world that makes citizens living overseas pay taxes at home when they pay taxes in the country they are living in. Yes, skeptical readers, there are certain exclusions that lower the tax burdens of ex-pats but those exclusions are minimal.

When I lived in Japan, my employer paid KPMG (a large global accounting firm) to do my taxes for Japan and the US. My employer paid all of my Japanese taxes and the extra taxes due in the US because my income was higher when I was working overseas. If the company hadn’t paid my taxes I could not have afforded to live overseas. The first year living Kobe my Japanese taxes were almost as much as my salary. When I got the tax bill in Yen and did the calculation back into dollars, I thought there was an extra zero mistakenly added to the bill. The company wired me the money for the tax payment and that was taxed too. When I complained that taxing the tax payment as income was a like a “circular reference” in a spreadsheet, the local tax office said it wasn’t “because we only tax the first transfer not every time”. Not sure of the logic but fortunately it was not my money paying the tax.

My employer paid the tax without complaint as a “cost of doing business” and I got a nice postcard in the mail from the Ashiya Tax office thanking me for paying my Japanese taxes and giving me a lucky number for the “tax lotto” drawing. I never won the lotto drawing but I saved the postcard.

Being transferred from Japan to China after five years was largely driven by the fact that Japan’s tax laws got even tougher after five years as a resident. The company wanted me to stay in Asia but they didn’t want to pay taxes that amounted to more than my base salary and part of my bonus.

China was even tougher – the company had to pay a higher % of my income and subsidies for housing, the kid’s school, etc each month but at least they gave me a few more deductions.  The tax laws of China also become more severe after five years in country which was part of the reason I never saw year six as a resident of Shanghai.

So between golf boondoggles and keeping Air Force One in the sky, maybe the President should think more about elimininating expenditures like the one below than contemplating what "fair share" means when his target group is already paying most of the tax and half of America is paying nothing. Happy April 15th.

This is just one useless expenditure on a long list of government waste






 

 

 

The Artful Dodger

The recent banning of dodge ball in some American schools would be humorous if it wasn’t so sad. The state that got the ball “rolling” in this case was New Hampshire. Seems odd that a state that has “live free or die” on their license plates would be the first to put an end to this gym class classic.  The ban is part of a larger movement to end “human targeting” activities. Wow! I guess boxing and sumo are probably at risk too. How about the business of being a “head hunter”? Seems like asking somebody to the prom is a human targeting activity. In all my years of school I can’t remember a single serious injury in a dodge ball game but I will confess that I broke a girl’s arm in six grade during a heated kickball battle. She was pitching and I was kicking. Sue Pierce if you read this, I really am sorry….

 

 

Perhaps the dodge ball ban is just another sign of a trend that seems to have begun when the baby boomers started having kids: well-intentioned parents who decided that no child’s feelings should be hurt by failure in classrooms or on sports fields. A nice sentiment to be sure but one that seems to be a contributing factor to the growing spirit of dependency and entitlement in many areas of American life. What’s next? No contact or no score football? Or “everybody gets 2400 for writing their name” SATs?

While the good people of New Hampshire consider changing their license plates to read the “land of 10,000 wimps”, the “Tiger Moms” in Asia continue to force their children to work hard and give them very little praise even when they achieve. Meeting expectation does not merit a 2 foot high trophy and endless accolades. Yes, the stories are true. Mrs. Wang and Mrs. Watanabe are “forcing” Xiao Wu and Kentaro chan to go to cram school after their normal classes and do calculus problems followed by violin practice at night and on the weekends. I have never seen a “My child is an honor student at Chairman Mao Jr High” bumper sticker on the roads in China. The Tiger Moms would likely be doing time (going to prison) if they lived in New Hampshire.

A Tiger Mom gets ready for the day - boots not included

I don’t necessarily think the excessive pressure that many parents in Asia put on their kids is the ultimate in child rearing but I think the balance point is a long way from banning dodge ball and a grading systems where a lot more kids get A’s than C’s.

My daughters were seven and ten when we left for Japan in February, 2000. They were on swim, basketball and soccer teams while we lived in North Carolina. It always amazed me how many kids walked out of season ending award events with trophies, ribbons, medals that would have made a winning Super Bowl team in the 1970s proud. “Yes parents, your ‘Bad News Bears’ were 0-12 but let’s give them a big hand for the great season”. I was perfectly happy if my daughters only wanted to participate or just be part of a team. On the other hand, I certainly didn’t want them to be able to fill a trophy case with “participation” awards that would make their rooms look like an Olympic gymnast was in the house.

When we arrived in Japan, our kids went to an international school with students from all over the world. Standards were clear. Our girls enjoyed being challenged. A lot of their friends spoke two or three languages in elementary school. Sports were more about participation than winning but there were no “over the top” awards for showing up. My wife and I actually felt bad that there was so little emphasis on school sports but we got over it.

After five plus years in Japan, we moved on to Shanghai. The school there was more intense. Despite being called Shanghai American School, my kids were the exception – both parents were American and neither of Asian descent. We learned the difference between an “American fail” and an “Asian fail”. An American fail was an “F” and an Asian fail was anything below “A”. Actually, I was making a mild attempt at being politically correct - it wasn’t called an “American fail” it was called a “white fail”. My kids didn’t like the insult but they took it in stride.

We saw first-hand the negative impact of all the pressure on some of our daughter’s friends. Bright kids with great grades and 2,200 plus on SATs who felt the stigma of having to take home a lower score than the parents expected. Of course, they knew they would have to take the SAT prep course and test again.

There was a greater emphasis on sports in Shanghai but academic stars trumped jocks on the school’s “most admired” lists. Most parents considered sports a needless diversion from study.

The irony of the situation was that the vast majority of the Asian kids wanted to go to college in the US. The Asian parents and children all know, despite our allegedly “shiftless” ways in the US; America has the best universities in the world. The target schools were “any Ivy”, Stanford, Michigan, U of Chicago, NYU, etc, etc. Of course, Oxford and the London School of Economics were also acceptable but, by and large, getting accepted to one of the best colleges in America was required or the child was simply a “disappointment”.

Despite our lousy scores in global math and science testing, America is still a leader in innovation and creativity but how long will that last when we spend so much time focusing on nonsense like the “end of dodge ball” and changing the name of “tug of war” to “tug of peace”?

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