The New Silk Road

One of my favorite places in China is Xinjiang Province in the northwest part of the country. The Northern Silk Road trading route wound through the province centuries ago. The feeling is more Middle Eastern than Chinese due to the mix of ethnic minorities. I began visiting the main city of Urumqi on business in 2002. Over the years I visited Xinjiang more than a dozen times. Despite the rapid modernization in the province, no one will confuse doing business in Xinjiang with doing business in Shanghai, Tokyo or New York.

Life in the slow lane on the Old Silk Road

On my first visit, I stayed in what is euphemistically known as the “best available” hotel. At check-in, after showing my passport and signing several forms, I was "upgraded" which I assumed was probably a loose interpretation of the word. As I walked down the dark hall to my suite, I could only imagine what was on the other side of the door. To my surprise, the room was huge with a beautiful view of the snowcapped mountains outside the city. To my dismay, broadband had not made its way to western China. After several calls to the front desk and a couple of visits from the hotel "tech" expert who was also the bartender – I was in business; connected to my company server in the US by a 14.4 kbps (that is kilobyte not megabyte) connection. Anyway, a few hours later I had my email. On my fourth visit to Xinjiang, a couple years later I stayed in a brand new Sheraton with very fast broadband but I digress.

Nothing typical about a business lunch in Xinjiang

The hosts on my inaugural visit were the management of a large SOC aka State Owned Company. They liked to entertain but instead of playing golf, they preferred big screen karaoke while drinking “bai jiu” (53% alcohol), riding horses or having an outdoor lunch of very fresh lamb. Fresh in the sense that the lamb is alive when you arrive at the Yurt where lunch is served. On my first trip, after a brief business meeting, we drove to an ancient village for a tour followed a stop at the lowest point in Central Asia. By mid-afternoon we were part way up the nearby mountains at 2,000 meters sitting outside a Yurt eating a feast of local lamb and vegetables. After a post-meal horse ride we headed to a Muslim restaurant for more food and a culture show. The busy day was concluded in front of a full wall sized karaoke screen (something I never saw in Japan). On this occasion instead of “bai-jiu” they brought in Xinjiang Black Beer to lubricate our vocal cords.

Far away from the polluted skies of eastern China, the blue skies of Xinjiang

The customers on the Old Silk Road weren’t my most profitable but they were probably the most interesting.

It was our faithful driver Philip who introduced us to the "New Silk Road". A few weeks ago I made a brief stop in Shanghai as part of a longer trip around Asia. One of my assignments was to bring back 13 pairs of pearl earrings requested by a friend of my wife for her daughter’s wedding party. Knowing me to be a reluctant shopper, a week before the trip, my wife emailed Philip and asked him to visit her favorite pearl shop in Shanghai. Always eager to please Philip asked for specifications and said he would do his best.

Philip - one of the founding fathers of the New Silk Road

 The next morning Philip’s smiling face appeared on my phone. He had driven to the pearl shop and requested my wife’s friend Laura, the shop owner, give him her wireless password. Then he connected my wife with Laura via Facetime on his IPhone. From 7,500 miles away over the New (wireless) Silk Road, my wife chatted with her old friend, looked at various options and made her selection. Philip was happy because he didn’t have to worry about picking the pearls or negotiating the price.

One of the speed bumps on the New Silk Road - wireless "disconnections" courtesy of China internet "management"

A few days later Philip picked up the earrings and brought them to the airport when he met me. My part in the deal was only to pay Philip and put the earrings in my briefcase.  Several cities and ten days later, I landed in Charlotte with the goods. A few days later while I was on a morning run, my wife’s friend was out on a walk. She waved and said “thank you for the beautiful pearls”. I smiled, waved and said "thank Philip" under my breath.

Philip, loving all things Apple, will say that Steve Jobs invented the New Silk Road. I think Philip did.

"First Anniversary"

It has been two months since my last blog post. For almost three years, I have averaged a post every week to ten days so this long break is unusual; however, I was a little surprised when people started sending me emails asking if I had switched blog sites or if I am “ok”. 

So with the calendar reading September 1, I figured my blogging summer vacation should end. It was almost a year ago I wrote my most widely read post about getting “RIFed”, fired, “let go” or whatever phrase you want to use for being sent unceremoniously into the dark world of unemployment. When I checked my blog readership statistics it was somehow oddly comforting that readers from over 25 countries using ten different browsers and nine operating systems connected with my sad tale of corporate politics and pettiness.

 

Like most people suddenly out of work, my first inclination was to find another job. Although getting sent off to the work equivalent of Siberia was an emotional blow, I had no immediate financial concerns due to a severance package and eleven years of saving most of my income while I was on an ex-pat package.

In many ways, the past year felt like my first expat years in Japan and China. Although I was living in my home country this time, I was suddenly thrust into a new world where I had no corporate infrastructure supporting me and was, for the most part, flying by the seat of my pants.  Fortunately I have an insightful and supportive wife who quietly helped me figure out what I wanted to do next. She encouraged me to keep a journal which included the practical things I needed to do to ensure a smooth transition as I worked my last few days but more importantly the journal included ideas about my future – both my own and those from many friends who called me to check-in. I also found out who my real friends are – in many cases the people who supported me the most were not the ones I expected to “be there” for me. I received many positive and humbling surprises as I found out many people really did want to help me sort out my future. My desire to head back to normal corporate life quickly evaporated as I began to talk to friends about potential opportunities to work with multiple companies.

As the first few weeks passed and I mentally “cut the cord” from the habit of driving to the office or airport to start my days, I began to feel isolated and miss the camaraderie that can exist in small groups even in generally unhappy work environments. I came to realize that my feelings were a normal part of the emotional roller coaster that accompanies any major life change. Fortunately in week 6 of my new life I was off to Japan to sign my first contract. The idea that I am working for myself is a bit of a misnomer since in many cases, I am working with old friends who value my experience.  The first contract led to another with a major Japanese company just a few weeks later. By April, I was working for several companies and had more than replaced my corporate income.  In early summer I even managed to sign an agreement with a US company.

From time to time I got calls from headhunters who told me that the individual that fired me gave them my name. I found that interesting since he never was one to speak favorably about me. I decided not to spend too much time pondering that situation.

My days of being pictured in Annual Reports are over

I became a regular on Linked In which I previously didn’t pay much attention to. I developed a much better appreciation for networking and learned to enjoy working from home which I dreaded at first. My days are flexible – a couple hours of work early, a visit to the gym or a run, a little more work, maybe nine holes of golf, some phone calls, a walk with the dog and a couple nights a week Skype calls with clients in Asia.  My travel is down overall but next week I will make my fifth trip to Asia in nine months so I am doing enough traveling to keep life interesting.

As my “first anniversary” approaches, I am considering new business opportunities and looking forward to year two. Several friends who helped me over the past year are regular readers - all I can say is "thank you"

The "James Bond" syndrome - a politically incorrect tale of mistaken identity

One day many years ago as my undergraduate days wound down I stopped by the university bookstore for a reason that escapes my memory. One of my roommates who was also a close friend was in the store with his visiting mother. He introduced me and the three of us had a brief, pleasant but otherwise unmemorable interaction. Two days later I passed by mother and son in a nearby restaurant. Again, we chatted briefly about nothing in particular.

The next day my roommate, who happened to be a Native American from the Navajo nation, commented: “my mom really liked you”. “Do tell”, I responded. His reply: “well for one thing she recognized you in the restaurant, yesterday”. “What does that mean?” was my less than delicate reply. “Well”, he said with a characteristic smile, “normally she can’t tell one white person from another but she picked you out immediately, she even remembered your name”.

After a college career as close friends, I knew when make light of a comment and when not to. Although my mind said: “that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard”; my vocal cords uttered: “Well, I am honored”. My mind grappled with the idea that to a middle aged lady from the “Four Corners” area of the US, maybe all white people did look alike. Over the next two decades as I moved to various parts of America and finally to Asia, the comment of my roommate’s mom became a touchstone for me regarding the fact that to understand people of different backgrounds I needed to try to view things through the eyes I was looking into rather than my own. Despite my best intentions, given my small town America upbringing it was still hard for me to appreciate my status as a minority in the global scheme of things. And then came the “James Bond” syndrome.

the real deal

During my first few weeks living in Asia, I made a trip to Shenzhen, China. I was there to meet a new and important customer. The afternoon meeting was followed by the customary dinner. I was the only non-Asian at a table for ten. As one course was consumed and another came, I noticed that our host, the lady who owned the company, was looking at me and joking with her seatmates across the table. Not understanding the language, I wondered if I had somehow breached etiquette. Finally the mystery was translated: “we have been discussing how much you look like James Bond.” Being a long time Sean Connery fan, I wanted to confirm exactly which James Bond I allegedly looked like. “Which one?” I asked – generating an awkward “lost in translation” moment.  Of course, had I drawn upon the lesson from my roommate’s mother I would have realized that “all James Bonds must look alike”. All I got for an answer that night was: “yes, yes – you James Bond, really James Bond, ha ha ha”.

A couple weeks later my younger (seven year old) daughter came home after a visit to a new friend’s house. After a brief report on her day she told me that her friend’s mom “thinks you look just like James Bond”. Still hoping to be the Sean Connery version of 007 rather than Timothy Dalton version, I foolishly inquired “which one?” A quizzical look was all I got in return. My daughter was a “Star Wars” fan.

Not James, Bill or George circa 1994

The fun was just beginning. It seemed that if “all white people look alike”; I could be anyone and apparently I was.  Traveling with a colleague a few weeks later I was stopped in Taiwan and asked if I was Mel Gibson. Ironically I was traveling with the same person a few weeks later and was stopped in Buenos Aires and asked “the Mel Gibson” question. Quite certain, I bore no resemblance to Sean Connery or Mel Gibson; I became more and more convinced that depending on the city, I really could be anyone - assuming they were white and sufficiently famous. Travel was more exciting since I was never sure who I would be when I landed. Months passed, I was spotted as James Bond in China twice – in Chengdu and Shanghai. I was less successful in Tokyo – I was spotted there as Tony Curtis (I was pretty sure he was dead) and “that pro golfer”. Occasionally I was simply asked if I was somebody famous. In Japan, I would respond that: “I am nobody famous” which given the confusion a negative, positive response generates with Japanese seemed only to confirm, incorrectly, that I was indeed famous.

I realize many parents of my generation tell their kids “you can grow up to be President”. My mom never told me that but I was to find out as my hair grayed that I could look - to the Asian eye anyway, like Bill Clinton or George W. Bush and sometimes both in the same week. Occasionally it seemed I went from looking like them to being them. Over the years I stayed in the same hotels as both Presidents Clinton and Bush did in Tokyo and Singapore. One time as I finished a run in Singapore, a local excitedly spotted me as “43”. President Bush was in town during a stopover on the way to an APEC meeting so between that fact and perhaps being legally blind (he was wearing glasses), I could see how the person could make the mistake. I am not sure where he thought the secret service detail was.

Now that I am spending most of my time in North Carolina, I have gotten used to being my bland, non-famous self but on my regular trips to Asia, I know there is a chance I may morph into someone else, briefly. I wonder if my roommate’s mother would recognize me now.