两个国家换位

在很多人的眼里美国这个国家是一个被其他国家和人民所追求的理想。

我还在中国时很多中国人一发现我是美国人就支了耳朵并举着大拇指说一句“美国好“却问他们美国在什么地方好他们说不清，说是一个”知觉“，　我以为是因为他们看到好莱坞电影多的原因，　肯定不是因为分析好事情。　

我想美国的优势在于懂说好自己，国家和人民懂树立形象。　这个优势的确不是天生的。美国人小时候都已经开始表演在美国国内被称为”show-and-tell”的节目。在作”show-and-tell”美国小孩子经常上台并在小同学们面前表演节目或者在老师们的鼓励下发表小言讲。　

最近经济的衰退笼罩了全世界，几乎所有的国家正在进入一个很动荡的时段，在这些很异常的状况下很意外的事情都会发生。华尔街在短短的一个星期内从一个金融界的天堂降到了失败的地狱，仿佛华尔街的象征那大牛拦不住得跑掉似的

“世界是平的”作家Thomas Friedman　在“纽约时报”上个星期出了一个比较中国和美国两个国家的社论。在他的文章中Friedman　表示两个国家的相　等于“两国一治”的一个概念。　美国政府老呼吁了中国政府跟随美国走同一条经济道路，美方要求 中国将吸收一个自由市场的政治

Friedman说美国政府最近进行的救出汽车公司的行动发生后，美国越来越像中国他说是因为美国最大的一些企业变成国营单位，现在国营大型企业和中小型的私立企业都存在。 我以前发表`的演讲叫“中国美国换位“中提出的假说是 在很多方面两个国家不是接近而是换位。

けぃしますのものもの語足り

为什么要去北京开会？这个问题我不敢问自己因为我已经知道没有一个合适的答案。“过感恩节你没有回家看母亲至于为了开一次一个小时的会你很乐意地乘飞机去北京一个更远的地方。

20多小时的路途后我终于到了北京首都机场，一个人下飞机进入一个北京的冬天，都市是一个全灰色的非幻象， 瓦灰的天空， 灰色的瓦房。

赶到王府井开会， 很自然地走向王府井最有名的店铺，却开会的地点毕竟是王府井的北端而不是潮长安街的。 演讲只要一个小时任务这样就完成了。 想象近40个 小时的路程为一个小时的演讲更不用说12个小时时差。真值得时间？　

不过参加会议发言不是唯一的要去北京的原因。 北京本质有吸引力。 我在走潮阳门内大街时在面前看到了一个七十来岁的老太太从一个名称为“前炒面”的胡同慢慢走得出来。我 给她打个招呼“阿姨您好” 她停留步并抬头微笑着我。 我指着她身后的标牌问道”打扰一下，“阿姨能否告诉我胡同的名称为何叫“前炒面“呢？“老太太很热情地回答再用了半个小时和她聊聊天两个人很开心。　从国外来到北京的游客自然得重视北京的景观点比如万里长城，故宫，颐和园等老建筑，其实对我来说北京市民是北京的魅力所在（北京的魅力存在北京市民的身上）

北京核心也是文化。 我虽然在北京的时间短我还看了两次戏。 第一个晚上看到示范歌舞团演出的“恋爱之作“

第二天的下午一个老朋友请我吃晚饭再去看戏。 餐厅位于 潮阳公园西门旁的一个新建的小区里。满小区有五星级的餐厅比如日本料理，法国餐厅，等等。 因为赶时间在日本餐厅只能吃几块寿卷。

戏剧是英国最佳作家之一Charles Dickens写的“A Christmas Carol“。 朋友的女儿搬 “Jacob Marley” 的角色。Marley 是Ebenezer Scrooge的曾经的商务伙伴。几年前去世的Jacob在圣诞节的夕作为一个很恐怖的灵魂在 Scrooge的屋里出现。朋友女儿的表现给我留下一个很深刻的影像。

我准备离开酒店正在退房时坐在前台的工作人员在完成退房手续前首先将楼上的服务员调查（检查一下）房间的状况汇报。过一回儿前台的工作人员接服务员的电话。 她终于说一句“我知道了我跟他说一下”就挂了。　她向我转身“先生房间的柜子里丢（漏）了一个衣服架 也许是您把它放在别处。我坦白 衣服架藏在我行李箱里。“麻烦您把衣服架换给酒店”前台的小姐说道。她的意思很明显：不还衣服架她不给我留下的２００块佣金。　　“因为一个只有两块钱值的衣服架子要给我酒店常客找那么多麻烦”我愤怒地把衣服架从箱子里掏出来

"Printemps" 的春季

巴黎最有名的百货商店之一“printemps“每年一次为店的常客举行一个特殊的活动。一个晚上店里所有的产品都打八折。 被邀请的客户排列是有限的。只有一些常客可以参加。在活动开始的一个月前这店把活动的邀请函发送到名单上的客户信箱里。 只有带邀请函的客户允许参加活动

有一天我们公司的一位女同事满脸高兴地走进办公室里来而不是走着是跳着进来。 在吃中午饭时有同事问她那么高兴的原因。 她回答到“今天是我一生中最幸福（幸运）的一天“。 ”我昨天回到家里时在信箱里看到了一张比普通的信封还的信封。 信封的面上有大红色的玫瑰花图案。 看到一张那么漂亮的信封我忍不住（不得不）得把它打开。 你们想象信封里面有什么 ？“同事就问坐在她身边的一个朋友。　”男朋友写得向你贡献的恋爱诗词，“朋友说。　“胡说！”同事喊道“这就比男朋友写的诗词还重要”“比男朋友写的诗词还重要。。。”朋友目瞪口呆得重复说。　女同事不说话就开始渐渐得把一张有红色玫瑰花图案的信封从皮夹克的口袋里掏出来，像魔术师把兔子从他的大帽子里抓出来。　

朋友一看到信封就发出一个像风吹似的“whooo” 声音

银行的游戏规则

在输入我的密码时好像搞错了想又次输入一下子在电脑的屏幕上显示通知。通知的内容大概的意思是要更新密码还得亲自去银行把通知交给银行的工作人员。 我因为前不久已经离开了上海不能带通知去上海分行。

银行的工作人员说我可以去附近的银行更新我的密码。有这样的一个过程首先把网站上的通知打印出来。 交给附近分行的工作人员。 有三个要球要符合在通知上写下面一句话“我同意让银行更新我的密码“问银行的工作人员签字证明他亲眼看到你的证件以及驾驶照。 然后把材料转到上海银行最后把材料放在信封寄到银行从此还需要7天才能更新密码

银行家的服务是很好的 只要输入你的密码他说。 我没有密码我想你们说更新要给我一个新密码。 这是一个误解更新的意思是我们让你用你原来的密码。但是因为上一次输入密码时没成功我没有注意也没有记下。 你现在问我记起我那时输入的密码我就没办法。

德国文人正在撤退

今年是我们学校德文系创始的第50周年。 系主任的秘书举办了一个活动邀请了教授曾经的学生以及学校的领导来到学校附近的酒店吃饭交流。

在吃晚饭前系主任走到小站台上给观众分享活动的议程. 他首先给大家描述德文系的目前状况。 学德国文学的学生不多在最近的5 年来挑选德国文学作为专业在下去。连一个教授决定早一点退休因为他没有足够的学生。 越来越多的学生被中国吸引加入亚太系。 议程的最后一部分是演讲部分。 作为会议的发言人主任邀请了一个银行家来演讲。银行家是他原来的一个学生。毕业后这位学生离开了文学界并改行改为金融业。

虽然活动的目的是祝贺德文系的50周年银行家没有讲关于德国文学的事情比如歌德尼载等德国最有名智学家和诗人。 他演讲重点是观众所关注话题经济的状况和衰退

蜜蜂巢

在曼哈顿岛上的158和159街中间有一家名称“银河道”的餐厅。餐厅是一家不起眼的小店， 位置就在一个贫穷的地区中， 被很多人看作不安全的地方

我们首先想去另外一家餐厅但餐厅周围的车位都满了。我们转了转又转了一转转了好几次尽管费了那么多时间终于找不到一个可以停车的地方。

餐厅提供的菜都是很普通的比如宫保鸡丁鱼香茄子什么的。全餐厅只有一张桌桌子只能坐两个人。因为餐厅怎么小顾客进来走到从前台点菜时从前台的窗口已经可以看到后面的厨房。 厨房里一共有三个厨师。 他们人挨人站在火炉作菜。这是一分又底层又辛苦的工作。 比厨师的工作`还辛苦就是餐厅的送货人

有两三个看起来象墨西哥或者另外一种南美洲国家的小伙子。他们骑自行车送菜因为小餐厅的生意大部分是外卖的送货人很忙。 从餐厅的外面还没回来已经又要出去。 他们这样不停地出餐厅才回来再拿小餐盒带走很象蜜蜂从蜜蜂巢里飞出来才过几分钟再飞进来。 送货人和蜜蜂的不同在于蜜蜂是寻找蜜蜂巢里的蜜蜂所需要的食料送货人却是把食料送出去.

Crooked Teeth

有一个亲戚去世我们为了一辈子能纪起他习惯保留一个经常用的作品做纪念品。我父亲去世时我也保留了他的一些经常用的东西，有他的自行车他的收音机以及他的垒球手套。这些日常用的产品让我们想起父亲。

父亲去世不久我发现他的记忆连留在我身上。有一天我在照镜子时感觉到在看自己同时可以看父亲。父亲的一生中牙齿不好，下巴的牙齿很多都歪了长地象玉米根上的玉米粒。我照镜子时 才发现自己的牙齿很偶然已经开始松动。我的牙齿以前是很正立的。是因为我小时候为了避免牙齿象父亲的牙齿都弯地长出母亲带我去看牙科医生。为了避免牙齿会弯地长出医生推荐安装一个放在牙齿上的钢铁做的架子。幼时架子带了很多年。 以后母亲很高兴地看到结果。牙齿都很正立地长出。她说我微笑是象模特儿的微笑

不过我牙齿终于都歪了。 这证明基因引向下比技术的力量还强。

China branding

Economist roundtable of branding in China - Sept 2008. Interviews with some of the participants. Most of the conclusions seemed superficial. As if they could apply to any market. Except that China is moving faster. Some of the conclusions were that Chinese are expecting that there are more services associated with a product. A greater emphasis on service. A lot more people interested in the environment. This is becoming an increasingly important part of company marketing and branding strategy in China.

在找房子

有的人喜欢看房子,搞房地产是他们的娱乐方式.我不喜欢看房子而比较喜欢看书.这也许是我怎么多年都没有买房子的原因之一.

这一次刚从国外回来的我得找一个房子因为没有地方住. 我想住在市内因为住在是内比住在郊区更热闹一些.第二天我走进一家附近的房地产公司. 接待我的代理人是个大概三来岁的黑女孩子. 她有大的体型, 她的头发从头的每一个地方尖起来象杂机团的小丑这样子.


她经常笑起来但是她的笑话不是一个有娱乐的笑话, 她笑得象很紧张. “我们上你的车还是要上我的车慌?” 她笑着问我. 我是客户她是代理人当然要开她的车. “无所谓” 我回答到. “我的车就在马路对面” 我很客气地指着我的车. “没关系” 她说”还是我开车”.

我们在找她说到的公寓她显得迷路了, 我们在附近的一个公元绕了一圈再绕了一圈开车没多久她说她找不到路. 很可惜我的车正好装了定位系统. 在路上我

我打一个喷. 按照美国风俗她要向我讲一句”上帝保护”什么的. 她不过不说话. 她解释没说话的原因是因为人家是一个宗教组成叫”jehovah’s witness”的参与者. 她说随着宗教的规则她不许公开说”上帝”这个字

Fed-Ex Social Media

Fed-Ex example of social media strengthening a brand. Fed-Ex extended its packaging into the virtual world by allowing users to load images and documents into an online package (Fed-Ex, of course). They made this available on Facebook and linked into virtual gift giving which is a social activity.

Social Media 1011208

Consumers trust other consumers. Nielsen Survey (Nielsen Global Online Consumer Survey - October 2007) on consumer attitudes towards 13 types of advertising. 78% of respondents trust other respondents. Reports of bad experiences outweigh good experiences by 5:1. Ads in newspapers rank 2nd worldwide (so newspapers should be doing better). Online opinions rank 3rd at 61%. Word of mouth generates the most trust in APAC. HK = 93% of respondents; Taiwan = 91%; Indonesia (89%) In developing markets advertising seen as a conveyor of useful information

Bridge

The word “Bridge” was stenciled in neat black letters at the entrance to a luxury residence community on the outskirts of Shanghai. The guard at the gate, who snapped his hand up smartly to his kepi when addressed, was hard pressed to say why it was called “Bridge”. It certainly didn’t connect anything to anything else and the newly tarred road that ran outside the entrance to the complex came to an abrupt end in at the edge of a dark and impenetrable thicket.

“Bridge” had been carved out of the wilderness only a few months before and then made habitable for wealthy foreigners. The residences were built in a faux-Moorish style with tiled roofs and turreted casements. By contrast, the doors - light oval shapes and disproportionately small - looked like something a hobbit architect had designed.

Life inside the complex followed a civilized rhythm of evening strolls with dogs well-heeled on leashes. It was an oasis of calm and tranquility interrupted only by the pulsing soubasse of bullfrogs that emerged at dusk from the rushes along the canals that traced the edges of the property

The frogs were all that remained of the wilderness that had been there before. It was possible that they were there because they had been overlooked but it was more likely that they had been carefully accounted for in the design and kept on as a momento mori of the countryside.

Every month the residents organized dinner parties that they took to calling “walking dinners”. They called them “walking dinners” because each family would volunteer to prepare a meal and then walk from one house to the next during the course of an evening tasting the food their neighbors had prepared. Through this pleasant diversion they got to know each other and came to appreciate each other’s cultures. A family of Danes who expected to find no more than salad when they entered the house of their neighbors, strict vegetarians from Bombay, were pleasantly surprised to find heaping trays of lightly browned Pakoras and Samosas.

This cross-cultural exchange was strictly confined to the complex though and did not extend to the world outside. Occasionally a small group of residents would take up wine glasses at the end of a “walking dinner” and make their way down to the entrance of the complex. With the gate just ajar they would watch as men in blue coveralls at the end of a shift made their way in twos and threes down the dusty road that led back to their dormitories.

They were workers coming from construction sites where they were putting up the walls and towers that would destroy their past while building a bridge to their future.

The Shanghai Think Tank

Downtown Shanghai is turning into one enormous construction site. Roads are being widened, narrowed, and completely rerouted as the city undergoes an historic metamorphosis.

Walls and barriers are being erected all along the main thoroughfares obscuring many of the city's most common landmarks and shielding blocks of the storefronts from view.

One imagines that one day all the walls and barriers will suddenly be removed revealing a brand new city.

In the meantime, all the construction plays havoc on traffic patterns and even seasoned drivers find familiar routes have changed direction or completely disappeared. Maneuvering around all the sites, many of which are unmarked, can be treacherous and there are many tie ups that result.

I joked to a taxi driver who narrowly missed a gaping hole in the middle of an off-ramp from the Yan An Expressway that it might be more useful to drive a tank in Shanghai. He responded matter-of-factly that he knew how to drive a tank and would give my proposal further consideration.

I find that usually Chinese don't make statements like this in jest, so I decided to find out what he meant when he said he had driven a tank. It turned out he had been in the army for a number of times and during his service had learned how to drive a tank.

As we swerved around another pile of rubble and some pylons along Tianmu Rd. I asked him whether it was tougher to drive a tank in the army or to drive a cab in Shanghai ? He didn't hesitate: "driving a cab in Shanghai"

Deconstructing the Cookie

I bought a box of chocolate chip cookies from the Watson’s convenience store on Zhangyang Rd. yesterday.

The cookies were produced by a company called “Nissin”, (“Nissin” being the Japanese pronunciation for the two characters that appear just above the company logo) The name alone identified company as Japanese and the elegantly decorated box the cookies came in made the identification even more clear.

As I broke open the box to get at the contents, I happened to glance at the fine print on the bottom of the box and to my amazement discovered that “Nissin” is, in fact, the brand of a Chinese company operating on the outskirts of Shanghai. This discovery prompted me to take a closer look at the packaging and on further investigation I discovered a number of other intriguing items that elevated the box from a bit of clever packaging into a bona fide cultural artifact

Chinese young and old are not shy about expressing their dislike for the Japanese. This is not surprising given the frequent and portrayal of Japanese as either villains or buffoons in films and in the consistent stream of historical dramas shown on television
And yet when you look at the numbers, Japan is consistently at the top of the list of China’s largest trading partners. Shanghai is home to thousands of Japanese expats and hundreds of Shanghai residents are employed by Japanese companies.

So why would a Chinese company go out of its way to masquerades as a Japanese one especially if it is promoting its products to the local market?

The implication is that despite an avowed and widely publicized dislike for the Japanese, Chinese nevertheless recognize an inherent value in Japanese products and appreciate their quality. Capitalizing on the opportunity, Chinese companies are not squeamish about putting commercial gain ahead of national sentiment.

The rest of the box’s cover features text in English that describes the product as “A delicious cookie manufactured by traditional European method”. According to a recent New York Times article, creation of the first chocolate chip cookie is ascribed to a Mrs. Wakefield, owner of the Toll House Inn in Wakefield, Massachusetts and has no European antecedents.

So why the fictitious reference to “European methods” and the use of English ?

Chinese companies are becoming more refined and subtle marketers who realize that they can enhance the cachet of their product by cashing in on a growing penchant of Chinese consumers for European goods and a long-standing obsession with English, a “porte d’entree” for those who have designs on joining the swelling ranks of China’s middle class

The icing on the cake, or rather the cookie, is a band of Chinese characters featured prominently at the top of box that reads “Qu Qi”, a word that at first blush has absolutely no meaning in the Chinese language. But when you sound the characters out you realize that they are not being used for their semantic content, but rather for their phonetic value. They are quite literally a transcription or a rough approximation of the English word “cookie”

The number of English words that have been transcribed into Chinese is growing by leaps and bounds. “Hei Ke” (hacker), “Mo Te (fashion model), and the ubiquitous “Tuo Ke Xiu” (talk show) have become staples of common parlance and represent the pinnacle of Chinese literary fashion

“Qu Qi” or cookie then is clearly an exponent of this trend, but more than just a mere example that makes the point it sends a signal to customers that the company has caught the spirit of the time and perhaps more subtly enables those customers who can’t read English to appreciate the “foreign” cachet.

Too Polite

The 3rd Annual Corporate Communications and Media Relations Summit in Shanghai didn’t attract more than 40 people. The numbers were purposely kept low to encourage discussion and make the participants feel as though they were integral to the event.

The design of the agenda was entirely contradictory. Although there were many more Chinese than foreigners only the foreigners presented. This could have been partially excused if the presentations delivered a lot of value and were well prepared, but in fact they were mediocre at best. Even more concerning was that from the questions they asked it was clear that the members of the audience were just as knowledgeable as the presenters if not more so.

I am sure that such a scenario would have been unacceptable if it took place anywhere else in the world: An audience of natives listening to foreigners doing a poor job of explaining their own market conditions to them.

A much better approach, I thought was that taken by the mobile Monday program where the foreigners presented in English and the Chinese presented in Chinese. The audience it was assumed could make do in either language and if they couldn’t then they shouldn’t be there.

Following one of the presentations a member of the audience noted how amazing it was for a foreigner to have such comprehensive knowledge of Chinese government policies. It seemed like such a ridiculous statement given that the presenter had been living in China for quite a number of years and his job depended on acquiring this kind of knowledge. Thinking about it later though I wondered whether or not this was more an issue of politeness, of making the foreign person feel as though he had accomplished something rather than a serious expression of amazement at the foreigner’s ability.

Seen in this context it is possible that the whole incongruous arrangement of foreign presenters and Chinese audience could be understood as a sign of politeness or respect from the Chinese audience who were trying to make the foreigners feel as if they were experts and possessed great insights. If so, then their efforts were entirely misplaced.

Fueling Despair

The taxi driver who took me to Pudong airport last week was a talker. He made a pretense at inviting a response at the every one of his pronouncements, but this was just a platitude and it was clear he preferred to hear himself talk. Unfortunately, he talked a lot faster than he drove and I was worried I might not make the plane.

Although he rambled a lot, the driver kept coming back to the gas situation and dwelling on the problems of getting fuel. According to him, gas had increased by 8 jiao (about 10 cents) over the last two months. . However, cab fares seem to have stayed the same, so this is undoubtedly squeezing profits and making it even tougher for drivers to eke out what is already a tenuous existence. Beyond this price increase was a shortage that was having increasingly serious consequences. Drivers have begun lining up at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning to make sure they could get enough fuel. There have also been a number of cases where a number of gas stations had been shut down because they were found to have been mixing water with the gas and then selling it at gas prices

No Satisfaction

I knew the 60% off the plane ticket to Wuhan was too good to be true. It was cheaper than the train. The problems started when I got to the airport for the early morning flight. The agent at the passport control station waved my ticket in front of her colleague and snickered “look. This guy’s used a Chinese name”. “What’s so funny about that,” I retorted. The agent looked abashed and explained that the problem was not with my Chinese name, but that the name used in my passport was in English and technically a different name than the name that appeared on the ticket. They couldn’t let me on the flight. Only the travel agency where I bought the ticket could change the name in the reservation system. In desperation I called the agency’s hotline. Naturally, it didn’t work. I called all the numbers listed, there was no answer. No one came to the office until 9:00. My flight was at 8:30. I had to take a later flight and pay full fare.

I stopped by the travel agency a few days later to explain the situation and get a refund for the ticket. The young man at the counter understood the situation, but explained that ultimately the fault was mine and so there was no obligation to reimburse the ticket. It didn’t matter that the young lady who asked me to fill out the standard agency form with my name, contact details, etc. didn’t point out that the name I used on the information form would be used on my ticket and, more importantly, that this could lead to a problem if the name in my passport were different. They are just travel agents who generate tickets and provide schedules. I should have known better since after all this wasn’t the first time I have taken a flight, was it ?? [Actually, I fly very rarely within China] It was my fault for not bringing my passport with me in the first place when I purchased the ticket. I should have compared the ticket with my passport and realized there was a difference. It was my fault for not checking.


I asked to speak to the owner, but he couldn’t be reached because he was “wai di” – living outside of Shanghai (in essence an absentee owner) and the rules were that his contact information was not be given out to customers. God forbid he should have to deal with a customer problem. His job, according to the young man at the counter, was to manage the company, a function that apparently did not include speaking to customers. The young man explained that customer service and resolving customer issues was his responsibility and that he was representing the company’s official position so there was no need for further discussion. The case was clear. I demanded to speak to the office manager. “I am the office manager,” answered the young man smugly and without another word gathered up all my tickets, receipts, and forms, replaced them neatly in the envelope the agency had provided, and handed them back to me. Another case successfully closed

Presidential Decison

Liu Dao Yu was President of Wuhan University in the 1980’s. I really didn’t know him well, but he was the one who made the unheard of decision to let me move from the Foreign Experts Building to a student dormitory on campus. After all this time I still wanted to know why, so I tracked him down and invited him for lunch.

We met in the lobby of a hotel on the East Lake. In the twenty years that had passed he had devoted more and more of his time to educational issues and moved further and further away from Chemistry, his original area of expertise. He was also dismissed from the university at the end of the 80’s apparently for initiating programs and reforms that were just too progressive making me realize that his decision let me move into a dormitory was just the tip of the iceberg and was actually perfectly consistent with his worldview.

We exchanged gifts. I gave him a pen. He gave me a copy of his autobiography “Memoir of a University Dean” and he got into a taxi to go home. In the end, I never did learn why he decided to let me move.

The American Dream

The Chinese couple I was sitting next to liked American Airlines 288 en route from Chicago to Miami because the flight number had two lucky “8”’s. What’s more, the “2” that came before the “8’s” meant that should be twice as lucky.

I liked AA 288 because it was “juste”, as the French say. A perfect connection with the inbound flight from Shanghai we were on with almost no downtime at O’Hare airport.

We considered ourselves lucky indeed as 288 boarded on time and began to pull away from the gate. But without warning the plane suddenly jerked to an abrupt halt followed by a loud “crunch”, am ominous sound that signaled the beginning of the end for the power of Eastern numerology and the efficiency of Western scheduling.

The pilot came on to explain that the tow bar from the service truck had not been properly disconnected from the plane and had broken free shattering one of the safety lights on the front of the plane just below the cockpit.

After more time passed the pilot went on to report that there was no replacement light anywhere in maintenance inventory at O’Hare. This was followed after a while with an update about a flight from Denver that was on its way to Chicago and the good news that this plane could be repurposed after landing and used to take the passengers of the cursed Flight 288 to Miami.

I dutifully translated all of this for the Chinese couple who at first were glad to get the updates and were happy that they could understand what the pilot and crew were saying. But as time went by and the excuses mounted they made it clear that it was more information than they needed to know. I’m sure they were wishing that this was all just part of the in-flight entertainment and that they could just click off the sub-titles and go to sleep.

The couple were from a small town in Guizhou Province, an obscure place in China’s deep South. Their daughter was going to school at the University of Florida and they were on their way to visit. This was their first time outside of Guizhou, let alone China. I could see that they were beginning to wonder what they had let themselves in for. After all they had already been on the road for nearly 22 hours by the time they got to Chicago and were beginning to show signs of fatigue.

As we sat in the waiting room after more than four hours of delay at O’Hare the husband, Mr. Zhu, finally admitted that he was taken aback by the poor quality of service. From everything he had heard and from the movies he had seen, the U.S. was a model of service quality and efficiency. Here we had already been delayed for nearly four hours and the airline staff had yet to come by with something to drink, even if it was just water.


When it was clear that the airlines staff was never going to provide anything more substantial than periodic updates, I finally suggested to Mr. Zhu that we take a walk down to the food court at the other end of the terminal.

As luck would have it, there was a Taco Burrito place. Chinese people tend to be very cautious about embarking on culinary adventures, but I figured Mexican food might just work because chili peppers and hot sauces are also at the heart of Guizhou cuisine. I tried this out on Mr. Zhu, but he politely declined. It was just too foreign. Next to the Taco place was a McDonald’s. The pitch: McDonald’s in the U.S. was the same as McDonald’s in China – all part of the same McWorld and a low risk option. But Mr. Zhu had never eaten McDonald’s even in China and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. The Manchu Wok place on the other side caught Mr. Zhu’s attention. He figured this would be a place where the food would be familiar and the people could speak his language. It turned out that the Manchu Wok was run by a family of Filippinos whose Chinese vocabulary was strictly limited to the dishes they offered – “Kung Pow Chicken”, “Beef Fried Rice”, and “Pot Stickers”. To Mr. Zhu the dishes all looked about the same. Even worse there wasn’t a single chili pepper to be seen. The only thing that looked familiar, and therefore a safe bet, was the fried rice at the end of the counter. But the rice was sold as part of a two-dish combo and not offered a la carte. Faced with the selection of two dishes, Mr. Zhu held up his hand. “Just the rice, thanks,” he insisted. The kid behind the counter finally relented and pulled out that symbol of American Chinese take-out – a small white carton with a fold over top and metal handle into which he packed a handful or two of rice and handed across.

Following another delay on the second plane caused by a faulty hydraulic system, we finally landed in Miami at 4:00 AM and as we taxied along the runway towards the terminal the pilot informed the passengers that he finally had a piece of good news to report: There were no planes anywhere on the ground ahead of us and so there would be no further delays pulling into the gate. I turned to translate this for Mr. Zhu, but he had fallen asleep. Somehow I didn’t think it was worth waking him even if it was finally for “good news.”

The Prince of Persia

The Prince of Persia restaurant opened for business with all the fanfare fit for a king. Posters announcing the “Prince’s” arrival had gone up weeks before along the underground passageway leading to the Dongchang Road metro station and inside the lobby of the World Mall on the floor above. They were done up in gaudy red and yellow colors and featured Conga line of swaying figures in garish robes led by an outsized character with purple turban– the Prince presumably – whose mustache was so wide that it threatened to extend out over the edges of the frame. It seemed the inspiration for the Prince and his retinue came from Ringling Brothers, Barnum, and Bailey rather than from the Iranian Cultural Ministry. Certainly not the face of Iran the government was trying to promote. A face of Iran that government officials would have found politically incorrect and religious leaders would have found blasphemous. Anyway, this was Shanghai, a place where rules, even those imposed by the Republic of Iran, are suspended or just thrown out entirely commercial success winning out over revolutionary zeal and political correctness.