lifting the corporate veil
About 36 hours ago, I found myself in a peculiar predicament in a tiny godforsaken piece of land in the huge of land of the Middle Kingdom. Chuckles, the partner in charge of the file, had lugged me on a 4 day business trip with him to this place, with nary a briefing on what we were going to do, what the trip was about... or pretty much anything at all. I'm glad I wasn't completely deluded that my business trip would be the swanky tele-drama sort, of glamorous business trips, business class flights, porters carrying your bags, opening your doors, meetings in huge boardrooms overlooking an impressive skyline... this was NOT it.
6 hour flight to Beijing, followed by a 4 hour transit, then a 1 hour domestic flight to the province. My initial wide-eyed wonder turned to horror when we arrived in a dusty little county south of Beijing, with pollution so bad that you could see the sun with your naked eye. The roads were dark and dusty, with the only lights coming from the transportation trucks that stream the streets. We got off the plane, got bundled into a van and our driver sped through the darkness, trying desperately to get us to our destination of the little county before midnight. The lull of the van, my travel fatigue and the complete lack of visual excitement resulted in me dozing off 10 minutes into the ride, much to the horror of Chuckles. I think the only point about me that impressed him during this trip was my innate ability to sleep anywhere and anytime.
I was awoken when the car stopped abruptly at a cross junction that seemed to merge out of no where. The roads were finally lit too. Not just with street lamps mind you, but also a crass cluster of short, dried-out trees with florescent bulbs crumpled around the limbs.
As if that wasn't ugly enough, right next us were two couples screaming at each other on the road. One woman was standing next to the driver's seat of a van, tugging at driver's outstretched arm while shrieking madly at him. Next to her was a burly half shaven man who was hollering something at the driver as well. This shouting went on for a good 5 seconds before a skinny lady appeared from around the back of the van, flung herself at the woman, tearing her away from the driver. A mad tussle ensued... all over what seemed to be a minor car accident. Chuckles and I weren't about to stay to find out. Just as well, the light turned green, and the driver left.
In the day, things showed itself to be even drearier than what was expected. The darkness of the night veiled the derelict state of the town.
My meeting was held in a dingy building, in which house flies seemed to be most comfortable in. For a period of time, there was even a young man stationed in the room who help swat the flies. Quite disturbing really. The office was also a stones throw away from an abattoir where animals were being slaughtered manually. While I was a tad disappointed that I didn't get to visit it myself, the stories from those who survived the tour of the abattoir was enough to put me off entering the place.
I remember the Beijing I loved 3 years ago. The new and the old sat comfortably with each other. Right smack in the middle of the financial district, a group of old ladies met every morning to blast the radio, and dance exuberantly with flowers and fans. In the evening, this group was replaced by another group doing taichi. The hutongs too were bustling with activity as people went about their chores. You could see children walking home from school too, horsing around on the road sides. This little county was nothing like that. The only signs of life were the trucks that zoomed by, and the people dotting the sides of the river, fishing. If they ever caught anything in the river, I'd be greatly surprised. It was so dark and murky and factories surrounded that river. Seemed really unlikely that anything could live in there. So imagine my relief when we were told at dinner that the fishes we had on our table were NOT from that river.
Dinner was a grandiose affair where we sat 8 people seated at a table meant for 16, with an automatic lazy susan periodically offering each person all sorts of delicacies (as best they could do). By delicacies, I mean sea cucumber that resembled a caterpillar, locusts fried in a black indiscernible sauce, vegetables that don't resemble anything palatable. Alcohol, the lubricant of all Chinese businesses, was out before dinner even started. The CEO liked "drinking games", and started off the dinner by declaring that anyone who finishes the full first glass of 白酒 would only have his next glass half filled, after which, he would no longer have to drink for the night. The alternative was to finish the first glass in 6 times, and the next glass would be completely full again.
From the start, the issuer manager- who by now, is well used to the CEO's ways- ordered a yoghurt and a sprite. The former to line his stomach, the latter to mix with the Baijiu, or to spit the alcohol into when you couldn't finish it. The 2 PRC female friends whom the CEO had asked along, ordered a sprite as well. Throughout the course of the dinner, the group started throwing offers of toasts around, which were met by counter offers, especially from the PRC ladies. It was highly entertaining and educational, seeing how they managed to outtalk their way from drinking excessively. After many toasts, the waitress filled up the issue manager's glass, and one of the PRC ladies offered him a toast. He agreed, on the condition that she bottoms up-ed as well. Instantly, she took up the offer. But the issue manager's had not finished. For this toast, as an indication of their sincerity and good faith (诚意), they would switch glasses, a sign that neither was lying to the other about the amount of alcohol in their glasses. The moment he said that, a glimmer of panic flashed across her face for a split second before she quickly recovered and threw him a counter offer. This went on for a while more, until finally, realizing that she could no longer hold him off, and could not be exposed as a fraud, she instructed the waitress to bring a clean glass and fill up the glass right there and then in front of everyone.
I was impressed by the issuer managers sharpness, which I guess must have come with age, experience, and a hell lot of balls. I was also impressed by the PRC lady, how she had managed to hold off the the alcohol without offending the CEO. I on the other hand, was languishing. The CEO kept throwing Chinese idioms at me, 9/10 of which I never heard before, and of which I was furiously checking my Chinese-English dictionary in my phone for answers. I should have known not to try. His English translations were horrific. The most classic example was 实事求是, which is translated to "be practical and realistic" or "to seek the truth from the facts". His translation, "Mad is Madder". Grudgingly, having 'lost' the translation bet, I drank a sip of the horrendous baijiu.
Thankfully enough, my ordeal came to an end 3 hours after the dinner. The director, who was the only one who was inexperienced with baijiu, was knocked out cold after he downed the first glass in one shot. He had to be sent back to the hotel, while the rest went on to continue KTV-ing throughout the night. I took this chance to return to the hotel as well, on the pre-text of work - which was true really, as I stayed up the rest of the night to do work.
The rush home was another horrendous affair, which I'll talk about another day.
6 hour flight to Beijing, followed by a 4 hour transit, then a 1 hour domestic flight to the province. My initial wide-eyed wonder turned to horror when we arrived in a dusty little county south of Beijing, with pollution so bad that you could see the sun with your naked eye. The roads were dark and dusty, with the only lights coming from the transportation trucks that stream the streets. We got off the plane, got bundled into a van and our driver sped through the darkness, trying desperately to get us to our destination of the little county before midnight. The lull of the van, my travel fatigue and the complete lack of visual excitement resulted in me dozing off 10 minutes into the ride, much to the horror of Chuckles. I think the only point about me that impressed him during this trip was my innate ability to sleep anywhere and anytime.
I was awoken when the car stopped abruptly at a cross junction that seemed to merge out of no where. The roads were finally lit too. Not just with street lamps mind you, but also a crass cluster of short, dried-out trees with florescent bulbs crumpled around the limbs.
As if that wasn't ugly enough, right next us were two couples screaming at each other on the road. One woman was standing next to the driver's seat of a van, tugging at driver's outstretched arm while shrieking madly at him. Next to her was a burly half shaven man who was hollering something at the driver as well. This shouting went on for a good 5 seconds before a skinny lady appeared from around the back of the van, flung herself at the woman, tearing her away from the driver. A mad tussle ensued... all over what seemed to be a minor car accident. Chuckles and I weren't about to stay to find out. Just as well, the light turned green, and the driver left.
In the day, things showed itself to be even drearier than what was expected. The darkness of the night veiled the derelict state of the town.
My meeting was held in a dingy building, in which house flies seemed to be most comfortable in. For a period of time, there was even a young man stationed in the room who help swat the flies. Quite disturbing really. The office was also a stones throw away from an abattoir where animals were being slaughtered manually. While I was a tad disappointed that I didn't get to visit it myself, the stories from those who survived the tour of the abattoir was enough to put me off entering the place.
I remember the Beijing I loved 3 years ago. The new and the old sat comfortably with each other. Right smack in the middle of the financial district, a group of old ladies met every morning to blast the radio, and dance exuberantly with flowers and fans. In the evening, this group was replaced by another group doing taichi. The hutongs too were bustling with activity as people went about their chores. You could see children walking home from school too, horsing around on the road sides. This little county was nothing like that. The only signs of life were the trucks that zoomed by, and the people dotting the sides of the river, fishing. If they ever caught anything in the river, I'd be greatly surprised. It was so dark and murky and factories surrounded that river. Seemed really unlikely that anything could live in there. So imagine my relief when we were told at dinner that the fishes we had on our table were NOT from that river.
Dinner was a grandiose affair where we sat 8 people seated at a table meant for 16, with an automatic lazy susan periodically offering each person all sorts of delicacies (as best they could do). By delicacies, I mean sea cucumber that resembled a caterpillar, locusts fried in a black indiscernible sauce, vegetables that don't resemble anything palatable. Alcohol, the lubricant of all Chinese businesses, was out before dinner even started. The CEO liked "drinking games", and started off the dinner by declaring that anyone who finishes the full first glass of 白酒 would only have his next glass half filled, after which, he would no longer have to drink for the night. The alternative was to finish the first glass in 6 times, and the next glass would be completely full again.
From the start, the issuer manager- who by now, is well used to the CEO's ways- ordered a yoghurt and a sprite. The former to line his stomach, the latter to mix with the Baijiu, or to spit the alcohol into when you couldn't finish it. The 2 PRC female friends whom the CEO had asked along, ordered a sprite as well. Throughout the course of the dinner, the group started throwing offers of toasts around, which were met by counter offers, especially from the PRC ladies. It was highly entertaining and educational, seeing how they managed to outtalk their way from drinking excessively. After many toasts, the waitress filled up the issue manager's glass, and one of the PRC ladies offered him a toast. He agreed, on the condition that she bottoms up-ed as well. Instantly, she took up the offer. But the issue manager's had not finished. For this toast, as an indication of their sincerity and good faith (诚意), they would switch glasses, a sign that neither was lying to the other about the amount of alcohol in their glasses. The moment he said that, a glimmer of panic flashed across her face for a split second before she quickly recovered and threw him a counter offer. This went on for a while more, until finally, realizing that she could no longer hold him off, and could not be exposed as a fraud, she instructed the waitress to bring a clean glass and fill up the glass right there and then in front of everyone.
I was impressed by the issuer managers sharpness, which I guess must have come with age, experience, and a hell lot of balls. I was also impressed by the PRC lady, how she had managed to hold off the the alcohol without offending the CEO. I on the other hand, was languishing. The CEO kept throwing Chinese idioms at me, 9/10 of which I never heard before, and of which I was furiously checking my Chinese-English dictionary in my phone for answers. I should have known not to try. His English translations were horrific. The most classic example was 实事求是, which is translated to "be practical and realistic" or "to seek the truth from the facts". His translation, "Mad is Madder". Grudgingly, having 'lost' the translation bet, I drank a sip of the horrendous baijiu.
Thankfully enough, my ordeal came to an end 3 hours after the dinner. The director, who was the only one who was inexperienced with baijiu, was knocked out cold after he downed the first glass in one shot. He had to be sent back to the hotel, while the rest went on to continue KTV-ing throughout the night. I took this chance to return to the hotel as well, on the pre-text of work - which was true really, as I stayed up the rest of the night to do work.
The rush home was another horrendous affair, which I'll talk about another day.