A Guide to Doing Business in China

(The following is a draft of the final paper that I have to submit as part of the trip. This paper is supposed to be an open memo, of sorts, to colleagues in my company who will be going to China on expatriate assignments. I tried to squeeze into this all the lessons that I've tried to process in the week since getting back from China. I'm sure more will come to me in the weeks ahead, but, with this, I'm calling this blog a wrap. I hope that this blog has been informative, maybe taught you a thing or two, and hopefully didn't waste your time. Until my next voyage, tsai tsien.)

In the coming years, China will become an increasingly vital arena in our company’s business. With recent travels to the nation serving as experience, I offer the following guidance to any members of our organization engaging in business in that nation.


Be Careful about your Expectations
China is becoming a world player at a pace that few have ever seen. In recent years, the economy has grown at such an aggressive rate that it is expected to double by 2020 and eclipse all Western economies, save the U.S. Under these conditions, it is likely to expect a country that is modern and adopting modernity at an equal breakneck pace.

China, in my experience, however, is a flurry of contradictions. One drive through the capital city will bombard you with high-rise developments, massive roads projects, and shanty towns. As the growth takes hold, it is seemingly too fast for everyone to benefit.

Therefore, manage your expectations. You will see pockets of surprising change and opportunity. Manage yourself, where possible, into those areas.



Be Equally Careful about your Prejudices
Western modes of living have established a foothold in China, but they are vastly outnumbered by the home country’s culture. This culture, and the government’s role in it, affect everything from your food choices to your ability to enjoy a comfortable temperature in your home / hotel (heat and air conditioning is controlled by the central government).

As you spend time in country, you will undoubtedly encounter foods you will find questionable, modes of discussion that will seem indirect, or cultural modes (i.e. gender roles) that could prove challenging to work with.


Business is Business
I think it is important to appreciate that the fundamentals of business – and business interaction – remain the same wherever you go. The motivations of profit and success are universal, even in a country that is avowedly communist or socialist in nature. In fact, it may be more important in this environment, considering the Chinese culture’s concern with mienze, or face.

Moreover, the rigors of business – objectives, measures, rewards - are adhered to by all.

This seems to be an obvious assertion. Nevertheless, it is imperative to underscore this issue. It is possible, and, for some people, quite easy, to engage the Chinese from a sense that these matters are less material to them than they may be to us. This prejudice can be demonstrated in small, subtle ways.

This is a particularly delicate matter as the Chinese are proud of their recent growth, but desirous of validation. It is important to offer this validation as much as possible, allowing Chinese partners to maintain their mienze, and allowing you to develop guanxi, a network that will enable your business objectives.


The State as Corporation
There is no greater single entity in China than China itself; the state, I mean. The state is above all business and ultimately directs, stifles or supports all business in China.

It is easy to think of the Chinese government – which is Communist – as being authoritarian, single-minded, and imposing. It is all of those. However, it is much more than that. The government is the single largest proponent of China’s growth of late, going to great lengths to create an attractive business environment and supporting businesses (even taking equity stakes).

Moreover, the environment supports the mindset of the state as a corporation. Chinese state television is overrun with coverage of the National Congress meetings, seminars and lectures from business and thought leaders, and business news. Being a collectivist culture, the Chinese take these as signs of which direction to move in. One tour guide on my trip went so far as to say, “If the government will tell us which way, we will go.”

All this in mind, however, there are a host of challenges in dealing with the Chinese government. The Chinese government, anecdotally, is uneven in enforcement of business laws and practices, often turning a blind eye to Chinese-owned businesses breaking the rules while strictly enforcing foreign-owned businesses. Contracts in China are often of little value, as the culture does not readily support contracts, and the government very rarely is of help in this regard. When doing business with the Chinese government, foreign businesses can be asked to make difficult concessions, or find that the Chinese government moves at a much slower pace than expected. Intellectual property is fair game for all in China; as one person put it, “It’s the People’s Republic, and whatever’s available is the People’s”.

Lastly, it is not out of line to mention differences in freedom when it comes to the Chinese government. It is wise to develop separate, secure lines of communication for your time in China. The Chinese government filters information flow into and out of the country. Censorship is a reality. For example, I was watching a film in my hotel room one night, and saw the screen go black once a mention was made in the film of the Chinese government. Also, I was not able to see certain websites while in China, making it difficult for me to keep full track of world events. In business, full unfiltered access to information can mean the difference between success and failure. So, I would recommend keeping quiet, but clean access however you can.


Talent – Truths and Myths
In staffing any Chinese operation, there are particular challenges in the current environment. The greatest of these challenges is a disparity in the variety of talent. The talent pool in China diverges, by most reports, into two major sectors – unskilled labor and highly-trained knowledge workers. That implies a shortage in mid-level management that is vital to coordinating operations.

Moreover, the highly-trained knowledge worker level is typified - again, according to reports – by high turnover rates. The talent pool is so contracted in this sector that there is heavy competition to secure these workers. Workers are fully aware of this and take advantage of the salary and benefit increases it provides. One company consulted, Sino-American Shanghai Squibb, cites an average tenure of 18 months among this sector of the employee pool.

This leaves managers with a considerable challenge. It forces some difficult choices about the best tactic to use; do you play in this competitive market, or do you bring in a team of expatriates? The latter choice has its own challenges, as expatriate assignments fail at an alarming rate.


Duality – It goes beyond Ying-Yang
While we are on the subject of dichotomies, let me take a moment to point out the reality of duality in China.

China is an exercise in extremes. Educated and un-educated. Rich and shockingly poor. Government and private-sector. Legal and illegal.

It is a challenge for a Westerner to make sense of the extremes in the environment. It is also a challenge to keep one’s equilibrium in the extremes.



Practical Considerations
When visiting China, the best advice I can offer is to manage your equilibrium. Take extra care of yourself and your person – physically and mentally.

Where possible, maintain your normal time schedule; i.e. work at night in China, because that is your day stateside.

Drink plenty of water and eat properly. The difference in environment will make you susceptible to falling ill. Hydrating properly and maintaining proper nutrition will help you in that regard.

Socialize. The differences in the environment can be mentally trying. Expatriates call it “Riding the Wave” – a state of highs (excitement) and lows (depression / loneliness) associated with being in an unfamiliar environment. Socialization can help combat some of those feelings, and help you ride out the low ends of the waves.

Allow for plenty of rest. It takes some time to reset your body clock. Until that occurs naturally, you will feel run down and exhausted. Do not fight these feelings. Allow your body to adjust as it needs to.


In Summation
As I hope I’ve described, China is a challenging environment; but this challenge can be an invigorating one. If you prepare properly – both for business and personal considerations – there is no reason that a visit to, or work in, China cannot prove a rewarding experience.

If you allow yourself to feel your limitations, and approach the environment with an open mind, there is no telling what lessons China will impart to you.

“Small” Town, Big Ambitions

The second morning in Suzhou is rushed. I have to hurry to make it onto the bus in time. I am half-asleep, which doesn’t bode well for the meeting this morning with Tyco Electronics.

Tyco Electronics is a short ride from the hotel, in a relatively young building. The folks from Tyco have set us up for the presentation in their lobby. A nice flat screen TV and a PA system make it possible, despite the 2 story ceilings in the room.

We all know Tyco in some shape or form; whether it’s through an ADT system, or through the Dennis Kozlowski affair. Here, in Suzhou, Tyco Electronics makes parts needed by the auto industry.

I wish I could tell you more, but that’s about as far as I made it before starting to nod off. I wish I could’ve heard more, because I never did fully go out. But, for two hours I was between being out and being awake.

A short factory tour reveals some interesting cultural realities. There’s a sign hanging on the wall with what appears to be the Wal-Mart smiley face and some Chinese characters. When someone in the group asks, we learn that this is an attempt to keep and make the factory a nice place to work. See, apparently, it’s quite normal for the Chinese to pass each other in the halls without acknowledging each other, even when they’re close friends. They’re more likely to just walk past each other, preferring even to just stare at the floor. We Americans could never get away with that – trust me, I’ve tried. (“Sorry, but I already said ‘Hello’ to you, Jim! What? Do I have to repeat myself over and over?”)

After this stop, we’re scheduled to see St. Joe’s facilities in Suzhou. That is located inside the Suzhou Industrial Park. The S.I.P. is the brainchild of Deng Xiaoping and the Singaporean government to lure world business to Suzhou. The SIP openly aims to become the new silicon valley, setting aside thousands of square acres and government investment in turning this end of Suzhou into a business center.

We start with lunch inside Socrates restaurant, where we catch up with some of St. Joe’s local staff. After, we get a quick look at “Education Town” inside the SIP. It’s a section of town where colleges are located. It’s got a tip-top gym that could rival facilities at any major college. Then, a quick look at the library, which is equally impressive. Just look at the view just off the conference rooms.










While we’re in the neighborhood, we head over to Kow Loon Hospital, a private hospital located in the SIP. Private hospitals are not the norm in China, as I’ve said in a previous entry. But, here, in what is a pretty Western hospital – with a pharmacy in the lobby – the rule of family acting as your nurse holds true. Except on the 11th floor, the V.I.P. ward – yes, that’s what it’s called.

I had asked if I could talk to a doctor here about my respiratory troubles. Dr. Wang arranges for a check by Dr. Liu, one of the queens of the ward. She’s a highly respected doctor, and now she’s asking me about the nature of my distress. After a series of questions about my coughs, she takes a quick look at my throat. She determines I’m infected, but as I’m heading home tomorrow, it doesn’t make sense to give me a scrip. “Drink hot water with lemon. And you should start to feel much better once you get home…” Okay. Well, at least my wife will be relieved.

Lastly, we visit the SIP’s planning offices, where we get a presentation from one of the planning directors. This presentation seems pretty repetitious to us. It doesn’t help that we’re all wiped. Again, I’m fighting nodding off in the corner of the room. I’m single-handedly setting Sino-American relations back 20 years with this narcolepsy.

As repetitious as this is, we miss the main points:

1. These people are building a massive center for business. These things normally evolve on their own - through sheer happen-stance. Instead, this is a deliberate plan that operates under the “Field of Dreams” approach; “If you build, they (meaning businesses) will come.” So far, this has worked. Some 70 multi-nationals have established a footprint in the SIP, and the project is maybe 40% done.

2. This Education Town is a revolutionary concept. To quote Alexis, “Imagine when we’re shipping our kids to come to school here, instead of them shipping their kids to us for their schooling.” If they keep investing in this “town” like this, and convince a few more universities in establishing a footprint, maybe your kids college touring will have to go international. Maybe not in the next five years, but someday. Let’s not forget, China is busy graduating more people with scientific degrees than we graduate in total. At some point, they will become an educational center of excellence if the rest of the world doesn’t make a move.

3. They are remarkably proud of this. They walked us through a center dedicated entirely to the history of the project. And, did you see the picture of the models above? You don’t go through that kind of effort if you don’t want people to be impressed with your efforts and your foresight.

We call it a day and head back to the hotel for a farewell reception, where we’re supposed to meet a handful of our Chinese counterparts. But, I’m on the phone with Joanna longer than I expected, so I’m at one of the outer tables tonight. No matter. We have a nice time talking about the trip and getting to know Edwin a little better.

It being the last night, people are determined to do the town. I’ve gotten worse, so I can’t. But, damnit, I’ll squeeze in a couple with the gang before they leave the hotel. A couple of Johnnie Walkers in, I call it a night. I figure between the Johnnies and a little cold medicine, I’m gonna have a good snooze before the ridiculous trip home tomorrow.

The next day, it’s raining both in Suzhou and Newark, NJ. The trip home is already long, but this news could make it longer still. Ugh.

Bus to Shanghai – 2 hours
Shanghai airport – 2 hours
Shanghai to Beijing flight – 2 hours
Layover in Beijing - 2 hours
Beijing to Newark flight – 14 hours and a couple of lost lunches (bumpy flight)
Newark to Drew’s house by car – 2 hours (would’ve been 1, except for downed trees)
Drew’s house to mine – 45 minutes

Thank God, I’m home, though.

I’m glad for the experience. But, all things considered, I know now that I could never work in China. Shanghai is a possible return visit. Beijing, too, if I can keep it short. But for the rest of my days, I will see an inflamed lung whenever I look at a map of China. It’s two days after my return, and I’m feeling better, while dealing with the leftover pain management.

I feel ready now to write my final report on this China trip – a handbook for colleagues within my company who must visit China. With that, I’ll consider this blog complete.

Uprooting. Again.

Here’s what I know. I had free time coming to me this morning when this trip began. I was counting on that free time for a chance to catch my breath, do some shopping, have a leisurely breakfast, and generally catch a second wind for this trip. Somehow, that time was revoked, so I – we – could be carted around town as a group again to see a shopping district and a temple. To put it simply, I am far from happy, and I have plenty of company with me among the cohort.

So, now, instead of sleeping in I am up at 5am, packing my bags again so we can make the trip to Suzhou (pronounced “Sue-Joe”). Suzhou is where we’ll visit with Tyco, visit St. Joe’s China facilities and see a Chinese hospital.

But first, we go shopping. Shopping in China is as much a sport as it is about need fulfillment. Like I’ve said, you wanna bargain with just about everyone. No price is fixed. In fact, almost no named price is fair. To keep from overpaying, you have to talk the vendor down – way down.






Dr. Wang walks us to a shopping plaza known for some items that my wife would like, so pardon me while I keep the specifics a bit sketchy. But, let’s just say that watching Dr. Wang haggle is fun. The vendor immediately tells Dr. Wang she remembers her face. Now that a little friendliness is injected, they go at it. And once an acceptable price is established, we’re encouraged to tear in and find the goods we’d like. We all get a nice deal.












We hop in the bus, and find that we’ve spent so much time on this shopping excursion, we’ve got to blow off the temple, and head straight for a Thai lunch at “Thai-rrific” (yeah, I know…).

Back in the bus an hour later (pattern, anyone?), and we settle in for the 2 hour bus ride to Suzhou, which is further inland. I am terribly sleepy, and my mind cheers as I pass out.

I wake violently in a fit of coughs. Some irritant has gotten into my system, and I’m trying to stop. “Oh no, not again…”As I look around, the road signs signal we’re nearing Suzhou. This means the air will be tough to live with again. I’m not gonna have an easy time here.

Suzhou is gray – grayer even than Beijing. There are rubble piles scattered throughout the town. Little bridges dotting the lanes stretch over water that is opaque and pea soup green. The people roll past us on their bikes and their mopeds, completely unafraid to take on our bus in an intersection.





Yet, this is the home of China’s silk trade. Moreover, Suzhou typically is among the top 5 cities leading China’s annual GDP growth. This town is not small potatoes.

We drop our bags off at the hotel in a hurry. Here in the heart of this gray town is a beautiful hotel.



The shower in my room shares a glass wall with the main sleeping quarters. I curse the fact that my wife isn’t here, ‘cause that spells free show every time someone hits the shower.

We hop back in the bus, this time to squeeze in a visit to the historic Humble Administrator’s Garden. It’s a lovely place, even though we’re forced to appreciate it under an overcast sky at a breakneck pace.

Then, with some pulled strings, we get carted over to a government-owned silk mill, where we hope to squeeze in a little shopping.

Okay, we get stuck in traffic. Traffic here is just like Beijing’s – a free-for-all. Our own driver takes lefts from the right lane, barrels into an intersection peppered with bicycles. “Holy sh*t” becomes an oft-repeated phrase. And when we finally make it to the mill, we very nearly T-bone a motorcyclist who decided to gun it when he saw us making a turn.

These koi are a pretty close picture of what traffic is like around here.


First, a quick lesson in the art of silk making. Cocoons get boiled and then threaded out (you have to look really closely at this photo to see it), and then used to thread. We blow into the showroom and do a little shopping. The women turn into a whirling dervish of activity, as they scramble for nice fabrics, silk duvet covers, scarves, ties, bags, dresses, robes, etc.

I grab what I need to fulfill my needs without adding to my luggage fees. I take a seat and then get a chance to know one of my tour guides, Edwin. I take it as a good omen when I meet him in Shanghai – Edwin was my late brother’s name. The fact that he’s a cool character, working his phone like a Fortune 500 CEO, only makes me happier to have him on our side. It also doesn’t hurt that he looks like a young Leonard Nimoy.

Edwin is everything that should scare us about the new Chinese generation. Ambitious. Hard-working. Looking to constantly improve. As we chat, I find he’s also very politically astute when it comes to business. But most frightening, he’s not afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands a little dirty to succeed. (Don’t ask, let’s just leave it that. And no, I don’t mean to demean or judge him in anyway. He grew up in the poor parts of Shanghai. Having seen just how poor that really is, I refuse to undermine him.)

When we get back, I agree to take in dinner with “Wall Street Mike”, Pete and Will. We’ve got some things we need to discuss, and it’ll be a nice chance to catch up. We hit the hotel’s Chinese restaurant (“They had Chinese? Go on!”). After watching Mike put in an order in some kind of broken English, we wonder what will actually come out for us to eat. Thankfully, what comes out is quite good. We have a nice cap off to a messy day.

I get back to my room early enough to get some solid sleep and start a new day. Sadly, the coughing fit of earlier, and the beer I had at dinner, aren’t deadening my pain, And with everything off, I have distractions. I’m up until 3am when I decide to sterilize.

I call the front desk and ask for a cup of salt to be sent to my room. I get a ready acknowledgment. “OK, sir”. So imagine my surprise when the doorbell rings and a guy is standing there with an iron and a board.

After tracking down the one late-night staffer who speaks English, we get it right. I clean out my throat and lungs in ugly fashion, and can finally call it a night.

“…anything is possible, but nothing is easy…”

My eyes open in bed at about 6 am. Thank God for a full night’s sleep.

But what day is it?

Where am I today and what do I have to do?

The pace of this trip and the number of obligations makes it impossible for my brain to keep up. I hate to admit it, but without our guides and the faculty telling me where to be and when, I’m completely lost. I breathe deep and try to get my wife on the line via Skype.

She doesn’t sound like herself. I miss her something awful, but the pace of this thing has made it tough to notice that the last couple days. I feel another bout of guilt that I couldn’t bring her along. Not to Beijing. She would’ve wanted to leave it sooner than I had. But Shanghai she’d enjoy. She helps me realize how turned around I am when she points out I’m running late for being in the shower. I’m off by an hour thanks to not having reset my laptop’s time. We say a begrudged goodbye and agree to catch up later.

I make it down to the bus in time, having to blow off any chance at breakfast. But at least I’m feeling better. I’m starting to get some of the pollution out of my lungs (use your imagination, and let that be a warning to you).

Our first stop today is Walmart in Shanghai. When we started taking names of companies to visit out here, that was top on my list. I’ve never visited a Walmart in the states; never had occasion to. But this is a rare chance. How does the most excoriated capitalist company operate in an environment that is still, in name, communist?

Some of us find this funny. We came all this way to see a place we can see at home? Right away, though, the happy workers at Walmart give us a greeting we haven’t seen before.



We’re taken to the back of the store where we get a brief walk through of Walmart’s China operations. More than 100 stores now bear the Walmart name in China, serving 7 million customers a week. Out of $374 billion in sales, $90 billion came from the company’s international operations alone.

How did they get so many customers and grow the company in such a small bit of time? They brought return policies and money-back, satisfaction guarantees – concepts we take for granted, but that the Chinese hadn’t had before.

Walking through the store is both fun and eye-opening. So, here’s a look at some of the more memorable bits of merchandise.











This may all seem insane to our Western eyes. We would never think to pick through an open bin of meat or eat half of these meat options. But, let me do something to my wife’s chagrin here, and defend Walmart a bit. Walmart is merely offering these items in a way that is appealing to their core audience in China – middle aged, female, middle income. This is the way they want to shop, and Walmart can provide it more consistently, and with a more consistent standard, than they might find in other, more local, stores. Seen through that lens, Walmart is offering a market improvement.

Lunch along the harbor at the Seagull’s Nest offers a chance to snap a few more photographs, this time by day.

We then head out an hour’s drive (Anyone? Pattern? Anyone?) to visit Air Products, a leading provider of gases for manufacturing processes. My bus (we have 2 now) visits the warehouse first, as our group has to split into two. Then, we head to HQ where we get a much bigger picture of the company’s operations.

Heading back into town, we scramble to secure a reservation at the Grand Hyatt Hotel’s restaurant on the 56th floor. It is a great place to get a panoramic view of the city at night, and the food is supposedly pretty good, too. The restaurant squeezes us in, after a little maneuvering by Dr. Wang.



This place is pretty swank. It is based in the world’s highest hotel. Rooms here at the Grand Hyatt start on the 57th floor and go up to the 88th floor. The rest of the building is business space.

We have a nice dinner, and afterwards, a handful of us head for Xintiandi, a pedestrian sort of mall designed to cater to Westerners. We take a short walk around and settle into a wine bar for a drink.

Across the way, a place called Rendezvous seems to be jumping, maybe too much for us at this point. I want to party, badly – but I can’t shake the miles. I am worn out. And the prospect of one more city ahead between now and our return to the States is enough to depress me. Our schedule is aggressive, perhaps too aggressive. We are given little more than our evenings to catch our breath. As we traveled to the other side of the planet, that seems like a lot to ask of us. We were originally supposed to get a break tomorrow morning, but no more. I feel cheated. I am officially at the bottom of the wave.

After a drink, TK, Shannon, Brubaker and I hop into a cab again back to the city. The program offers us cards to get back to the hotel, but it’s just now we realize their fatal flaw. They’re in English. The cabbie looks at it and wonders what the hell he’s supposed to do with this.

“What’s the problem?”

“I think he’d prefer the card in Chinese… After all, he doesn’t speak English.”

We punt, showing him our hotel room keys which show the address in Chinese characters. Once we get out and into the elevator, TK, Shannon and “Bru” decide to hit the bar on the 31st floor, see if the gang is there. I just can’t. I want to, but I just can’t.

Earlier today, we heard that, in China, anything is possible, but, for us Westerners, nothing is easy. I haven’t the will in me to fight for a bender. Riding the wave stinks.

Thank God for Shanghai

The previous night’s travel made us all miss something right off the bat about the town we were in – Shanghai is great!

An anonymous source told me that Shanghai is what Beijing wishes to be once it grows up. And when I wake up in the morning, I start to see why. Maybe it’s the fact that I finally got a night’s sleep, but the sky here is brighter, the mood more cosmopolitan, the flow of people and information much smoother.

We have a meeting first thing in the morning with Siemens AG, the German global infrastructure corporation that give my company, GE, a solid bit of competition.

Siemens is located on a stylish and austere (I did say German, didn’t I?) campus an hour’s ride away from our hotel. We’re met by Roland Utz, who talks us through the facility’s history. It’s a brand new facility, a stab on Siemens’ part to compete in the growing CT / MRI sector. This facility is both and R&D center, and a factory where the low-end CT / MRI scanners are made. And by low-end, I’m still talking about 3 million dollars machines.

He walks us around the plant and shows us the factory floor. Then he takes us into the showroom and walks us through some of the company’s new products, lines and strategic initiatives. And finally, he walks us through some macro issues regarding China that led to Siemens making this move in China.

China has 1.3 billions folks – we’ve said that already. But China, while it has 15,000 hospitals, only has about 400 that can really deliver the kind of quality care we’re used to in the U.S. In fact, when you visit your average hospital in China, the place is packed with people helping patients. But, from what I'm told, those people aren’t hospital employees; they’re the patients’ families! That’s right, when you go to a hospital in China, your family has to play the team of nurses. They load you into an x-ray machine, they cart you up and down the hall to surgery, and they clean your bedpan. Unless you’re lucky enough to afford, or unlucky enough to require, being sent to an "M1 hospital", the type that can serve your needs fully. The further out you are in the sticks, the worse off you are. But that’s relative.

Also, in China, 80% of the populace is health insured, mostly through government programs extended to the general populace, further evidence of the People’s Republic.

Now imagine that you are a medical supply company. And, in particular, a medical supply company of the size and scope of a GE or Siemens. This market needs your products. This market is in a growth spurt (expected to double by 2020, eclipsing every western economy but the U.S.). And, as people start to make more money, and real incomes rise, and people start to invest in taking better care of themselves, you’ve got a prime opportunity, if you can be there when it happens.

And that’s the key question; Can Siemens be there when it happens? When asked, Roland confirmed that Siemens has set a target of double GDP growth year over year, or will consider this China play a failure. With China’s GDP growing in the upper single digits (8-9%, don’t quote me, it’s a rough memory), that’s expecting to see roughly a 20% return every year from this venture.

Another hour's ride back into the heart of Shanghai, this time for lunch. We’re all starting to dig Shanghai, but especially once we sit down to this lunch. The difference in the food is astounding. People suddenly are enlivened, as they finally feel like they can eat again. Sure, there’s some dishes we just won’t touch (Beijing ruined soup for most of us for a very long time), but overall, the food is tasty. We chow down. Our tour guides, Edwin and Shan, walk by and we could just about kiss these two. They’re a god send, undoing some of what we’ve just been through in Beijing.

Back in the bus (are you seeing a pattern here?) and off we go for another hour’s drive (still don’t see the pattern?) to Sino-American Shanghai Squibb, Bristol-Myers Squibb’s joint venture in Shanghai. BMS has been a player in Shanghai since 1982. SASS is a manufacturer of different BMS products for the Chinese market, but is especially excited about Baraclude, a treatment drug for chronic Hepatitis B, which is most common in China. It’s a nice little campus (they all are) in a kind of secluded part of town.

The team walks us through a presentation including SASS’ history, their product lines, their growth projections, etc. Then, they allow us to walk into the factory, in groups of 15, while the rest of us stay behind and pepper them with questions.

I’ll say this – It’s embarrassing to me that I could not retain more of the Chinese I’d been trying to learn in the past few weeks, especially when I hear the folks here at SASS speaking English in very well-constructed sentences, and using words like "cascading", "cardio-pulmonary", and "molecular patent". I am an ugly American, for sure.

Back into the bus (pattern, anyone?), and back to the hotel after an hours’ ride (don’t tell me you don’t see the pattern already).

Shanghai’s nightlife awaits, but I’m forced to measure the cost-benefits of risking feeling worse. I decide we have one more night, so best to take it slow and ensure my recovery. I cannot overstate how hard it is for a Westerner to breathe normally here. As the days go on, there are more of us coughing and wheezing. The sheer number of people who’ve sworn off sleep to party isn’t helping, but even the "expats" we meet and talk to all make mention of the difficulty in acclimating to the pollution levels.



So, instead of looking for trouble, I rally up some of the ladies for dinner. We’ll walk out to Nanjing Road (where I understand you can find all sorts of stuff) and find a place to eat.



So where did we choose to take in some fine dining? Pizza Hut. We were just too full of Chinese food to stomach it again. And it’s cheap.



A bunch of the guys from our cohort end up walking in and taking a long table next to us. They tear into the Tsing Tao and get set for a night of fun. We leave them there after a bit and head towards the Bund to see the infamous skyline. Along the way, it’s a challenge to keep from being sold something. Denise’s Turkish roots kick in and she starts to haggle. She and my sister, Ruth, could have a lot of fun here.

After negotiating the streets to the water, we make it to what we came to see.



I’m trying to shoot and I’ve got hands pushing trash and trinkets into my face. In fact, when I think of it, there should be an entry here just based on trash and trinkets. Stay tuned.

The “mosquito people”, as they're referred to, drive us off before long. We head back to the hotel, and go our separate ways. The excitement of the haggling has woken Denise up and I can tell she’s going to find a bar somewhere. Shannon, Chris and Mini will almost certainly call it a night. And I can hear that last Ambien calling my name.

But, first, one more run in…

I’m 10 feet from the hotel steps. I’m walking with four women. And then, I hear it…

“Pretty lady, sir?”

Apparently, the “mosquito people” are even harder to avoid than I imagined…

Time for Business

After the weekend we had, it was time for us to justify our visit with a few business meetings. The morning centered on the Olympic Games, which you can’t avoid hearing about in Beijing. Aramark and NBC would join us to give us some insight as to how to pull off a worldwide event, and make money doing it.

I’m not feeling too well. Another night of insomnia has taken its toll. But, I’ve got to pull it together to pave the way for the NBC rep.

Aramark walked us through how they won, and now plan to execute a plan to feed the attendees, athletes and media that will be part of the Olympic Games. It’s a massive undertaking. Apart from the sheer number of people who can be expected to come through the doors, there is the challenges imposed by the contract; including staffing locally for certain jobs, food preparation issues, building a temporary infrastructure.

Working with a central government like China mean that the government has to be intimately involved in all of this. This means records have to be provided, menus signed off on, permissions and allowances. Add to this the need to translate it all from English to Chinese. Some menu items don’t translate, so how you get them approved?

I met Derek Ehman from NBC in the hallway. He’s been kind enough to help us. I didn’t realize that this is crunch time for the NBCfplks. He joins the room and walks us through the sales tape that lays the scope of the games out very nicely. After a few quick slides to walk us through his function and the operational layout, he opens the floor to questions. And, in typical fashion, we turn it into a lightning round.

After, as I’m walking Derek out, he offers his help while I’m in Beijing. I tell him we’re leaving for Shanghai tonight, and he brightens.

Before I let him go, knowing that he’s a serial expat, I ask him how deals with it – the acclimation, I mean. “Yeah, it’s tough, it’s very tough…They have a phrase for it, expats call it “riding the wave. You go through peaks and valleys, where you’re really glad to be hear one minute, and looking at your watch to get out of here the next. Just take care of yourself. Stay hydrated. Take your vitamins. If you can, stick to your normal schedule, even thought that means you’ll be living at night.”

I like that description. It does fell like a struggle. I’m having a good time, and learning a lot, but I miss home, I miss variance in food, and I miss my wife. Plus, this air – especially in Beijing, - is brutal. When I clear out at night, the pollution is obvious on the Kleenex. Not good.

I take Derek’s advice immediately and chug three bottles of water. I instantly start to feel better.

Dr. Wang has arranged for us to visit the Olympic village today by bus. The government is very careful to keep the facilities secure, not just for security purposes, but to keep from spoiling the surprise. And these buildings are really quite nice, although they’re really designed to be seen at night. We hop off the bus, bolt past a policeman and force our way into some shots.









Then it’s off to visit Lenovo, the guys you probably know from ThinkPad computers. Apart from being huge in China, Lenovo recently bought IBM out of the ThinkPad business and plans to reestablish the brand.

Lenovo is located inside a “mall” of software companies operating in section of Beijing. It is a nice campus. The company has a customer service and receiving center, which is where we head. Leo Curtis with Lenovo gives us an extensive overview of the company, its new products, its strategic initiatives, and its operating advantages. For instance, R&D is right upstairs from the customer center we’re in. So, if a customer needs a design concession, the R&D people can come right in with solutions.



After, we get a quick walk thru of the plant down the street. But, first, we're asked to gear up in anti-static suits. Imagine a young Chinese woman able to assemble a desktop in 2.5 minutes. That’s what they’re doing here, with Kanban charts in plain sight, and pictures from employee events in plain sight.







We high-tail it out of there to catch our flight to Shanghai. Traffic is insane. The rules of the road are really more like advisories for soft hearted little punks. People here just gun it and pray they make it through. When we realize our bus driver is trying to make a left at a jammed intersection, we can’t believe the fight that breaks out. Smaller cars, bicyclists, pedestrians – nobody is afraid to cut him off, and he just keeps on pushing. This pic doesn’t even begin to do it justice!

We make it with time to spare, as the travel agency took care of checking our bags for us. We sneak in a few quick beers, as dinner looks like an impossibility at this point, and hop on the flight from the tarmac.

I time travel – completely passing out until we’re 10 minutes outside Shanghai. I only wake up because the cabin pressure isn’t enough to keep my ears from stinging. Ouch. I’m practically deaf by the time we get off the flight. And, worse, I have no voice now. I start begging around for pharmaceuticals and find some angels. A couple Ambien so I can finally sleep and a pair of antibiotics for my throat. Jackpot!

And speaking of jackpot, check out my room! In the immortal words of Sean, our Beijing tour guide, “it’s very nice”.



I pop the Ambien and the antibiotic. I hop in the shower, and as soon as I’m toweling off the room goes slo-mo on me. I hop in bed just before the lights go out.

Insomnia, Nausea and Flirtations with Asthma

I got two whole hours of sleep last night. Worse, I got those two hours in one hour bursts on opposite ends of the night. It was a long night of frustration. So I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I keep getting asked if I’m alright.

But today is big. Today we visit the Great Wall, and I refuse to miss it.

Breakfast is abuzz with tales of a long night for some of the guys in our group. They found a stretch of bars in town catering to “expats”, and the festivities went into the wee hours. Other tables are abuzz with details of this morning’s Chinese mass, which a group took in.

We head out to the lobby and hop into the tour bus. Our first stop is, where else, but a jade shop, an opportunity to invite us all to buy. A half-hour buying spree breaks out, with our locally-based professor gives the women a first-hand lesson in proper Chinese negotiation.

Prices are fluid, to put it mildly. Don’t like the price? Try walking away. Seller opens negotiation. Low ball them back – chances are it’s a highly inflated price anyway. Haggle until you find an acceptable meeting place.














Several of the ladies find some jewelry bargains, and we’re on our way to the Ming Tomb, burial pace of 13 emperors of the Ming Dynasty. We climb up a hill to go down a long series of stairs to the Underground Tomb. There we get a look at the throne, and more interestingly, the giant caskets.












We go up a long series of steps to the top to find the temple on the hill. It’s a nice view so we stop to take some shots with, and of, one another. My attempt to turn Brubaker into Steve McQueen falls apart when he moves his head before I can get the shot.



Off we go to lunch…









We’re taken to a local cloisonné center where make enameled knick-knacks and jewelry. Walking through, we come across this gem of an enameled plate.

The restaurant is two flights up. There are some shady, non-Chinese fellows outside the place, talking conspiratorially.

At lunch, we’re invited to try the local rice wine. A couple of bottles are left on the table. It’s 56% alcohol, but we decide to go through it anyway. It’s rough. It’s a cross between Sambucca and paint thinner. So taking more becomes a feat of strength.




On to the Great Wall. We pull up and head to the main plaza at this location. Once we’re together, we start to realize where we are. It took the Chinese a century to build this wall, as an effort to keep the Mongolians out. We make all kinds of jokes about it (“Did they think the Mongolians would show up and go, ‘When did THIS get here?’”), but before long we start to appreciate the reality of it. And then we start to appreciate how tough it is to climb it.















Sadly, the Flip cam erased the videos I had taken up there. But, good news, one of my classmates, John, is a pretty serious photographer. One of my other classmates, Pete, is setting up an ftp site for us to share all our photos, so check back in a week or so, and I’ll be sure to have a nice selection to share with you.

Now, all that aside, the Wall is a challenge. If you can deal with the remarkably steep climb, and the rickety steps, there is the whole additional challenge of surviving the vendors. They are relentless, and not above accosting you to make a sale. Some of us actually buy something in the hopes it’ll make them go away, but it only serves to encourage them.

I make them back off me for a bit when I holler “Xie xie, bu yia” (“Thank you, but no”) rather loudly. The woman in question then catches an attitude with me for my tone. She hollers at me as I walk past her.

Nevertheless, the wall is something to see. It’s not for the faint of heart. Apart from the previously mentioned downsides, you also have the bitter cold. Together, it leaves you breathless – literally. Many of us, people more able bodied than me, find themselves stopping just to get their lungs back.

The wind just won’t stop blowing and hard. But then you stop to wonder how the hell they got all these bricks up here in the first place. How they managed to keep building. How they managed to keep the enemy out long enough to keep this from becoming a pointless exercise. How this could go on for 4000 miles, longer than the U.S. coast to coast? You have to just marvel at it. And then you get back down in one piece.


A smaller group amongst us decided to play "sherpa" and trek up the wall further than most of us. To give those proud (insane) few their due, here is the photo they brought back from on-high.



Back to the bus, with the vendors literally chasing our group to the door. We head back to the hotel along winding roads, the bus having near misses along the way. I struggle to stay awake despite being exhausted. Hopefully, after my first taste of honest-to-goodness roast duck, I’ll be able to pass out.

Our group divides up back at the hotel, as half of us head out for Beijing Duck. On the way, Sean, our tour guide, begins to tell us about how Beijing Duck became such a big deal. And then he proceeds to tell us about the cooking process, which is where the details take a turn. He’s trying to explain why duck chitlins are so popular, but instead tells us about the importance of “duck ass” in the culture. Same idea, unfortunate choice of words.

He takes us to a restaurant in Beijing that has been in operation since 1864. It’s covered in neon on the outside, but the place feels authentic enough.

When they bring out 2 tall stacks of mushu pancakes, we don’t expect to get three healthy plates of duck meat at our table. We get a lesson in wrapping from the waiter (style points for him), and we dig in. It was a good meal. Worth the effort.

On the bus ride back, I am fighting the sandman. I swear tonight will be the night I “break the wave” and get a full night’s rest. At 11:30, it’s lights out. At 1:15, it’s eyes open. Damnit!

Tomorrow: Our first business meetings, and the voyage to Shanghai.

“How much walking do we have left?”

Morning comes sooner than I had hoped, offering me just a little over four hours sleep at about 5:30 am. I get up and become somewhat homesick so I try to track my wife down for a call. No luck for an hour, so I try to check in on this blog and come up empty. The site won’t come up. I can do just about everything but read it.

My wife makes it home in time for us to squeeze in a call before I’m due downstairs for breakfast and round up for the day’s excursions. Today, we’re scheduled to visit the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, the Temple of Heaven and the Summer Palace.

The breakfast tables are abuzz with talk of the previous night’s festivities, which amounted to little more than pub crawling into the wee hours. Here’s a look at the Ban Po Beer Pub, which I forgot to include yesterday.



We mount the tour bus and head to our first stop, the Forbidden City. I honestly don’t remember the total area, but we’re talking several hundred million square feet. Originally the home of the Emperor, Empress, concubines and hundreds of armed eunuchs, the Forbidden City is something else. Built over 4 centuries, it is an amazing place to walk through.

Here’s some quick moments from our visit:







…and a clip I could only title, “Shameless Promotion”….



There are much better guides for this then me, so here’s a couple of quick observations to put in my two cents.

1. The doors here all have galley doorways, meaning there’s a lip you have to step over. But, consider you’re one of the Emperor’s many concubines, and tradition holds that you would be foot-bound. How do you get over these high lips of the doors?




2. Some among our team noticed the familiar symbol of the swastika on these centuries-old urns. I don’t know what they mean, but chalk it up to Hitler & Co’s. tendency to bastardize other cultures’ symbols.



3. We are strangely fascinating to people. They’re not used to too many Americans in their midst, but they definitely don’t see too many African-Americans. People have literally gone out of their way to ask African-American members of our cohort to take pictures with them. One woman, fascinated beyond words, walked around a group of our African-American contingent with an almost open jaw. And when they’re not staring at the African-Americans, they’re giving us all the “once over”, as thought they’re taking mental notes in some way. Just watch some of the folks walking past us in this clip.



We head out of the Meridian Gate, towards Tiananmen Square. Listen to me getting all excited about seeing Chairman Mao’s picture on the wall as I walk out.



Tiananmen Square is the single largest public square in the world. Apart from the history we all know, Tiananmen Square is also the center of the seats of power.



We grab a bus and head for the Temple of Heaven, a beloved park housing the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests. The park is buzzing with people. It’s Saturday, and these people are here enjoying the space, the company and their culture.







Is it me, or does that tune sound like “The Ballad of the Green Berets”?

You know what struck me looking at this? These people choose to spend their Saturday upholding their shared culture. From the shuttlecock game that clearly inspired the hacky sack, to the card games, these people are continuing to fuel the culture that they hold. And I find that noble. Westerners can complain about other cultures’ perceived shortcomings, or delude ourselves with feelings of superiority. Nevertheless, I don’t see us doing this. I’m sure a few Brits spend their weekends adding to our knowledge of Shakespeare; and some Americans follow their interest in what I think is America’s gift to the world, revolution. But you won’t find this in Central Park on this scale.

A quick, but satisfying lunch and we’re back on the road, this time to the Summer Palace. The sheer mileage has worn most of us out. We oblige the tour, but don’t pay it much attention. Apparently, the Summer Palace was the chief residence of an undermining empress who consolidated her power, and then started construction on a little tribute to her. Some beautiful sights here, including this old gentleman, writing calligraphy with water on the dirty stones.

Beauty and interest aside, we’ve been walking all day and we all begin to shut down. We need to call it a day. We head out of the Summer Palace estate, and high tail it past what we’re told are the most aggressive street vendors in the country. That’s saying something; because we have been assaulted just about everywhere we go. We’ve had a little fun with it, but then we’ve also driven past shanty towns, where it’s obvious Beijing’s poorest residents live. “I don’t want to buy a postcard book, and especially not with your tactics – but that’s a rough life.”

Heading back to the hotel, we’re treated to more construction sites and traffic. Cars are covered in a sizable layer of dust. Sand does occasionally blow in from the desert, but it’s also clearly from the smog. We’re all clearing our throats, and blowing our noses, and the results aren’t pretty. We’re finding that our acclimation will have to happen in more than one way.

A quick change of clothes and we head out for a concert at the new National Theatre, the official state performance hall. This place is gorgeous. It’s shaped like an egg, with a near-black exterior rigged with lights. At night, it blends right into the night sky, so much so, that a picture doesn’t do it justice. We go underground to get in, and we walk under a moat that surrounds the building. You can look up and see the water rippling – a great idea for a bedroom ceiling. Cameras are not allowed in the halls (hence the conspicuous absence of pictures), so we scramble to check our cameras. Then, we’re wand-ed through security. Welcome to the State as event coordinator. Inside, the building is equally beautiful, taking cues from Philly’s Kimmel Center, and then vastly outdoing them.

The show was a sort of cultural survey of traditional Chinese music, with special attention paid to the varying ethnicities. It’s pretty niche audience stuff, and with our exhaustion from the day, we are having a hard time staying engaged. I feel myself fading – fast! To compensate, I resort to what I call “the Citizen Kane technique”, clapping loudly and vigorously at the end of number, hopefully generating enough energy to carry me through another 9 minutes of sitars and arias.

A quick late dinner, and I call it a night. Besides, I took a professors advice and scheduled a late massage to aid my falling asleep.

Didn’t help. I’m writing this as of 4:30am. I need to hear my wife’s voice. So, let’s see, if it’s 4:30 am here, it’s 3:30pm there, right?......