I recently watched the 2-hour 20-minute long Hong Kong film Bodyguards and Assassins on DVD, and have to say I loved it. For one, it had many of my favorite Hong Kong actors – Donny Yen, Simon Yam, Jackie Cheung, and Nicholas Tse (who became one of my favorites because of how well he acted his role), among others; the film also had some well-choreographed action scenes. The film is about the  preparations involved in protecting Sun Yat Sen during his two-hour long visit to Hong Kong in 1906 to plot with intellectuals the overthrow of the Qing Dynasty, and the ensuing gauntlet of attempts on his life. Sun Yat Sen is the one Chinese leader both the Communist and the Nationalist Chinese agree on tried to do something good for all Chinese people. The entire film is explicit with the idea of Sun and his attempts to spread democracy throughout the Mainland in the final years of Empress Cixi’s reign. Cixi wants the former medical doctor dead dead dead. She sends a Qing official with illusions of grandeur and a mean kung fu kick to head up the legions of assassins who attempt to murder Sun and the rebellion before both are uncontrollable.

It’s a sad sad film that somehow made it through the censors in HK and on the Mainland, and is being very highly promoted (I saw clips of it played on a TV in a hyper-busy hyper-market just days before Spring Festival).

Definitely worth the watch. Viewer discretion advised: quite violent; bring your hankies.

A lot of experienced expat managers of late have been telling me kick-back stories. I don’t know if the incidence of corruption in China operations is on the increase, or if the stories just make for good entertainment. Chinese managers – usually in purchasing and HR – are usually the culprits. One Chinese purchasing manager at an American company had asked a local European company for a commission to get a project. The European GM called the American GM and told him of the incident. The American enterprise promptly fired the purchasing manager. An internal auditor from the home office told me he had come to China for a month to see how systemic the corruption was in the American company. Another company saw the purchasing manager rake in such a mother-lode of kick-backs that he owned two houses in Greater Shanghai, and two in Beijing. Even if the company catches him with his hand in the till and fires him, he still gets to keep the houses.

In another instance, a Western team of experienced expats was sent into a Western company to investigate corruption. Team members began receiving death threats about their intrusion into the inner workings of the company. One of the group simply quit: someone cheating the system simply was not worth his life.

Over espresso a few days  ago  at a Shanghai Starbucks a Western recruiter-friend named Franz (not his real name) told me the worst seemed to be over in the local jobs market. “Multinationals last year stopped making decisions. Our company also works with small- and medium-sized companies, so we were ok in placing staff last year.” This year, though, the multinationals are only looking to place Western expats in China at the highest levels of the organization. “Otherwise, companies want locals in those positions, or expats that want to live in China.” Franz said, “the expat packages now are nowhere near what they used to be – unless a Westerner is at the executive level of a very big company. Now, expats that make their lives in China are offered local packages that have good salaries, but none of the perks of the old packages: healthcare, housing, a couple trips back to the home country each year.”

Still, there is life after the Great Recession.

As I sidled up to the counter in a Starbucks in Suzhou recently, the attendant – already well aware of my taste for espresso – called out the order to the barrista and then asked me, “Have you seen Avatar?” I didn’t know the Chinese name of the movie, so it took me a few seconds to figure out what she was on about. She chattered on, “It’s supposed to be amazing!” She pointed to the barrista, “He waited two hours in at the box office to get tickets. He said it was worth the wait.” The young man attending to my espresso grinned sheepishly.

Chinese officials are shutting down Avatar in about two-thirds of its movie theaters throughout the country. The movie has been wildly successful in the country, despite any allusions to military excursions far from home. Though foreign films are allowed to stay in China only about ten days, the film still apparently has a lot of pent up demand. China only has about 2,500 theatres and mostly those at or near middle class level will be able to see the film. Seating several hundred people at a time for a film that demands it be watched on a big screen (with or without the 3D glasses), means several hundred million people will be sorely disappointed when Chow Yun Fat (easily one of the greatest actors in the world, in my book) will stroke his pointy white beard as Confucius on Replacement Screens.

Though it would be considered rude and culturally regressive in China to protest the screening of Confucius in place of a glossy American sci-fi adventure film, I wouldn’t be surprised if many would-be theatre-goers simply did not attend screenings of the historical fiction. Certainly, DVD sales of Avatar will accelerate more quickly and in greater volume, much to the delight of the DVD black market in the country.

In any event, look forward to lines into remaining Avatar screens to be even longer, and demand to increase through word-of-mouth. It looks like it will be a while before I see the film, as I have little patience for waiting in lines with the chattering masses.

An espresso, anyone?

Further reading: NYT

Updates: Avatar survives on Chinese Screens (WSJ), China’s zeal for Avatar crowds out Confucius (NYT)

Despite the hulabaloo about the internet (and publishing) censorship issues surrounding Google’s proffered gauntlet, China does provide many expats with a creative environment they would be hard-put to find in their home countries.

The New York Times had an uplifting China report that reminded me of one of the myriad reasons why I came to China and why I’ll be sticking around until the government kicks all us expats out: the energy of the Unknown. Essentially, China’ social and economic path is a great experiment never before tread on such a grand scale. Sure, the West, parts of Latin America and the Asian Tigers have all gone through their industrial revolutions. But never before have so many with such a long and wrenching history adopted such grand change within the lifetime of a single individual.

Such magnificent change is sure to throw off sparks: some of the sparks get in people’s eyes – especially those in post-”imperial” societies – and sets some on fire – the less fortunate citizens in the country that suffer from poverty or corruption or pollution. But for others, it is a time of life-altering events that may never be seen again in human history.

All this energy provides a creative frenzy that leaves one exhausted at the end of the day – praying for silence so one may be able to hear one’s own thoughts – and then up again the next day, knowing in your bones just how precious the Time is. All of us expats have one thing in common, at least: the freedom to leave China. That freedom gives us access to points of view and creative energies our compatriots in our home countries do not have.

The artists profiled in the NYT article know this, as well as many expats who are in China to make a life – not just a living. I know it, too. In my bones.

A German friend sent me a text message recently after the Chinese General Manager of a Nanjing factory had canceled the interview he had arranged with her. He was interested in working with my highly capable friend to implement quality controls and document systems in the company. The text read: “That boss is going to meet me after the 28th he is drunk [sic] cause of meeting that he had all day and tomorrow morning he has to fly to Xian so I meet him after the 28th … What does that mean when Chinese behave like that?”

To which I suggested if that’s the job she wants, she’d better lower her expectations for actually having a boss who knows how to manage. Of course, the boss would merely respond, “Chinese Way.”

Over a couple beers with an American and British friend we began discussing the “Not my job!” mentality with Chinese characteristics. In this instance, the cultural tweak involves a hidden hierarchy that would be difficult to replicate in the West. It seems the managers of both companies are having a difficult time getting their machine operators to understand that while the machines on the shop floor are cycling through production, during which the staff has down-time, there are machine maintanance activities they should be performing. “We’ve got a CNC machine that that relies on precise calibrations that dust and waste-product can interfere with. So while parts of the machine are not active, these guys should be making sure the machine is clean and the calibrations still accurate. Instead, when I’ve asked them why they haven’t been keeping the machine clean, they’ll say, ‘That’s the aiyi’s job!’” Typically, aiyi’s are middle aged, under-educated women who keep the corridors and toilets clean. “So how are they expected to know how to clean a sophisticated piece of equipment?” the American asked.

My British friend offered, “I shouted at a bunch of my guys one day when I caught them playing cards during production. The machine has very long cycle times, and they could have been cleaning up the area and the machine. If the insides of our machines get dirty, we can get set back six months in production because of contamination. But they don’t seem to connect daily maintenance with the consequences of long-term neglect.”

Maybe an agency should open up that hires out aiyis who nag machine operators to maintain their equipment.

The highly entertaining ChinaSMACK collated Chinese responses to the question, “What if District 9 happened in China?” The answers cracked me up. District 9 is a smashing science fiction thriller that mostly takes place in a Soweto-like shanty town outside Johannesburg. Aliens that look a lot like giant shrimp have come in a city-sized spacecraft as refugees, essentially “infesting” the ghetto. The humans call the aliens “prawns”. Many of the answers to the question were along the lines (translated into English):

Aliens land in Beijing, Beijing people would ask the aliens if they believe in capitalism or socialism.

Aliens land in Shanghai, Shanghai people would drag the aliens to the zoo to put on display.

Aliens land in Guangdong, they would be eaten…

Aliens land in Wenzhou, Wenzhou people will ask the aliens: is business easy to do on your planet?

The Guangdong statement appeared in not too few responses, which reminded me of the SARS outbreak in 2003. Scientists had just narrowed the origin of the deadly virus to Guangdong Province, where residents were in the habit of eating the undomesticated sivet cat. The virus that crossed over from “ferret” to human became SARS. A Beijinger dryly commented to me upon hearing the news, “Guangdong will be the end of Chinese civilization.”

Who knows, if Guangdong people were to eat the “prawns” from District 9, maybe the sequel would have the aliens coming back to destroy earth!

Shrimp cocktail, anyone?

I recently received an email query from a young American fellow who’s been working out of south China for the past five years, mostly in contract manufacturing. I’ve edited the letter to maintain his anonymity:

I seem to be plagued with constant thoughts of returning back to the states to go to school for an MBA or a JD, but I will turn 29 in November and I can’t wait until I am 35 to start earning a living…

I feel like I have a fairly limited perspective of world business and have been so focused on China for the last 5 years, I’m not so sure what the situation is like in the rest of the world.

My question to you is, would you recommend staying in China and gutting it out? Or is it worth it to try to get a higher degree in the US and do some networking?

I do speak Mandarin, conversationally fluent, and have quite a lot of QC and general China experience, is that alone enough to make me an attractive candidate to US multinationals?

I understand that this is not really up you ally, but I have been reading your blog for years and I trust you opinion.

To which I responded:

Thanks for the kind words about the blog.

Actually, you’re not the first American here in China with whom I’m acquainted who has been seriously considering returning to the States for good. I’m meeting an American friend on Friday for lunch who’s been in China likely nine years. He’s moving to Texas in a month or so with his very frightened Suzhounese wife; and another friend from New York City/Long Island figured that next year he’ll likely move back. I wouldn’t call it a mass migration, but the global economic downturn has certainly made everyone consider their situations.

As for returning to the U.S. in your situation (you’re younger than these guys I’m talking about), I’d suggest first seriously considering what region you intend to return to. The downturn Stateside seems to have dramatically affected certain industries and the areas in which they are concentrated. For instance, I wouldn’t council going to North Carolina for the textile business, which was seriously hit; the Research Triangle is not as strong as it used to be, too. However, if you wanted to begin to network in some of the green industries that have received U.S. government funding, Indiana is supposed to be a good place, and even some parts of Ohio (companies in the midwest got a lot of that funding). If you intend to return to China one day, you’d want to align your transition in the States with China industries and policies that the Chinese central government is strongly pushing; then, you return the conquering hero, having dug yourself out of the “import/export/sourcing” ghetto here in China.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of Western guys in that ghetto. We already know American consumer markets will not be coming back in strength the same way they had been; and the Europeans will always remain conservative. The problem with that trade sector is that you meet the same old problems after a while; and if you’re not the company owner, the work gets old real fast. It’s tough to feel like you’re advancing your personal and professional goals. And there’s a lot of Westerners who’ve stuck it out here in China who have similar levels of experience as yourself. So, you need to make yourself more special than the others!

I’d suggest for a young, bright fellow like yourself to move into a high-value services sector, and within that sector develop a specialty that allows you to toot your horn loudly. For instance, it could be law (IPR, international labor law, monopoly law, trade law) or finance or marketing (with your specific knowledge of China) et al. It kind of sounds like you’re burned out; so getting out of China for a bit isn’t a bad idea. If you’re looking for world perspective, though, I wouldn’t necessarily council returning to the States. How about taking a degree in Australia (so you have a base to explore the rest of Asia), or even the EU (more expensive, though)? But you’ll certainly get a broader perspective on world markets and the new world order forming up around Asia from any other country than bunker-America. Unfortunately, right now, the States is rather self-absorbed because of the economic disaster and the debacles in Iraq and Afghanistan. Heck, I’d even suggest Canada over the States, since Canadians were not at all touched by the financial meltdown. I’m not knocking the States; it’s just that folks back home figure they have enough on their plates without considering the rest of the world, too.

So, summary: figure out the sector->industry->specialty that will use what you’ve got and give you demi-god status; pick a place SOMEWHERE IN THE WORLD where you can learn and hone those skills, a place that will provide you a vantage point from which you can ponder the shift in balance of power from East to West and and where you can build a network of like minds that will help you along in achieving your worldly goals.

Any other suggestions for our friend?

I’ve recently been struck by the effectiveness of a subtle yet substantial change in personnel at the gates of my apartment complex. Starting the beginning of this September, young ladies dressed in neatly starched uniforms (sky-blue blouses, dark blue skirts, nylons and black pumps, if you really must know) have been stationed at the gates to the compounds. Previously, young men with 25-inch waists dressed in Smokey-the-Bear uniforms had been solely yet with some gravitas directing traffic past the wooden barriers.

Chinese drivers, though, aren’t very much impressed by gravitas, no matter how slim the waist – or perhaps because the waist is so narrow, and belongs to a male. Drivers would still block the entrances awaiting or disgorging passengers; horns would still honk at the slightest obstruction – in front of the “No Honking Allowed” signs; itinerant workers would still line up at the pedestrian entrances and argue with the no-waist guards to be allowed entrance to the compound so they could disrupt the sleep of the dead with their jack hammers and dentist drills.

Put the slim waist on a young, uniformed lady, and, oh my, how charming men can be. Now, all the gates in the complex are small islands of tranquility and serenity. Young, attractive, smart-looking women in pill-box hats give drivers with ear-to-ear grins a competent nod to pass through and use their own pass keys to permit residents into the courtyards. The cars don’t honk (as much) any longer – at least those with male drivers. And the male guards are less brusque and more polite; that is, when they are not all eyes for their new comrades. A British friend who lives in the same warren of apartment buildings noticed the same civilizing effect at the gate houses; he says he’s even tried to be charming now when he drives past the Sirens.

It remains to be seen whether this is just an experiment, meant to give the appearance of civility in a rambunctious corner of the world in the run-up to the Communist Party’s 60th birthday party come October 1st; or whether it is a permanent fixture.

I hope it’s permanent.