Doing Business in China (4)
Doing Business in China Guide
Part 1
(whew!)
This is our latest series on doing business in China. In these posts, our advice will correspond to the thirty-six strategies designed by the ancient and great Song general and strategist Tan Daoji–that is, we predicate all this advice on never using the 36 strategies as a way to do business in China. We have bookshelves stacked full of expensive kindling labeled “how to do business in China” that we will later use to heat our house.
The first listed strategy is “Deceiving the Heavens to Cross the Sea,” or man tian guo hai(And no, it’s not a reference to a sea-going Dali clique). While the strategy typically involves deception and refers to an advisor who got the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty so drunk and engaged in feasting for three days that the ruler had no idea he was on a boat–akin to the Beijing guides who accompanied press on yesterday’s “Meet the Lamas” broadcast.
Instead of learning to deceive the heavens, your best bet to getting introduced to China is learning some Chinese. Among our billions of dollars of unread books, unopened CDs, and untouched lessons, here are some tools we actually used to learn the language and culture of China:
The Rosetta Stone: though sometimes maligned for its interface, we give props to the English-free interface of the program and its integration of reading of and listening to Chinese characters from the beginning.
FSI language courses: a full and free year’s worth of free Chinese language instruction. This is the stuff the diplomats used to use and despite that it is hands down a great free tool for helping people learn to pronounce and listen to standard Chinese.
Chinesepod: Have a random question about Chinese? Allergic to parsley? Unsure about a specific word for sports? Head for Chinesepod. With a vibrant community of online learners, free daily podcasts, and a great selection of different tools like flashcards and online lesson reviews, Chinesepod’s collective of learners deserves its rock-star status on the net.
Lost Laowai: As always, well crafted by Ryan; Canadian accent comes free of charge, aye.
Berlitz: The only “learn Chinese in 30 minutes!” that actually works.
The next step is to get some culture (God knows we could use a lot more):
Lost Laowai, offers up real-life experiences of expats in China. We are hoping for the reality show to displace “swin in China.”
The HaoHao Report, everyman’s aggregator with Digg-like China focused features.
Panda Passport: Everything about China cyberspace you wanted to know but were afraid you’d get busted for on an IP violation.
RConversation, the most harmonious blend of blogging and citizen journalism on the web.
CDT, all the news from China blocked in China.
ESWN, a blog that brings together news from the East and the West–not the best in its class, but rather a species by itself.
Global Voices: China. The World is Listening. Are you?
China Herald, all the news that fit for bandwidth.
Cal Poly MBA Trip, a blog from the MBA Program with no ballast to throw overboard.
Thomas Crampton, former correspondent for the International Hong Kong International Herald Tribune, Mr. Crampton shares on-the-ground and insider info about the latest web innovations and websphere happenings in Hong Kong and greater China.
Imagethief, named for his photography habits and not for any actual Interpol related activity, is the creator of such marvels as the Stupidvator. a blog to lightens the cargo of the China blogosphere.
China Rises: Journalist and great story teller Robert Johnson: The only chief corresponsdent in China with hand-written instructions and a GPS reporter locator given by Central Government for any coverage of Tibet the Olympics.
China Blog List: a comprehensive guide to the many blogs passing us in the night.
The Opposite End of China: Life’s a Riot, and this blog reports on it. Veteran journalist Manning is as good as it gets and still chooses to farm tomatoes along the silk road.
More to come…
Posted 28 March, 2008 in Charity in China, 中文, Podcasts China, Chinese Proverbs, Chinese Media, Search Engine Marketing, China Book Reviews, SEO China Expert, China Business Consultant, Book Review, 中国人口福利基金会, Cal Poly, 中原, China Law, China Expat, china books, Seach engine Optimization, SEM, Teaching in China, China Editorials, China Cartoons, Intercultural Issues, Top China Blogs List, China web 2.0, Book Reviews, China Business, Confucius Slept Here, Internet marketing China, SEO, Seo China, Chinese Internet, 中国, The Internet, China SEO
Zhu Lu Zhongyuan… (2)
How is this for synchronicity?:
I study at least one Chinese idiom, parable or allegory a day. Today, honestly, I opened my study text and immediately saw:
At whose hand the deer will die is unknown
It is an idiom that implies that the outcome of a struggle or rivalry is still undecided. It has roots in the first Han dynasty in 203 B.C..
The story behind the idiom takes place in what was once known as “China Proper” which originated in the Tibetan Plateau and was bordered by the Yellow and Yangze rivers: The advisor to Han Xin, King of Qi, urged the King to break away from the Emperor Liu Bang. In 196 Han was executed for plotting a rebellion even though he had not followed the advice given to him by one Kuai Tong.
Later Kuai Tong was brought to Liu to be executed. Kuai Tong told the emperor among other things: ” A dog barks at people, not because it is bad, but because they are not his master. At the time my duty was to help Han Xingain gain power, so to execute me would be unjust.”
Liu Bang pardoned him.
I am hoping for the same fate for other Yellow River inhabitants showing support for their beliefs. I am hoping for the safety of my friends very near the confrontations. I am praying for an end to the violent conflicts– though the outcome of the struggle may long be undecided…
Posted 16 March, 2008 in Human Rights, Violence, 中文, Human Rights China, China Law, Chinese Proverbs, Chinese Media, Tibet, In the news, 中国, Censorship, China Editorials
China: The Balance Sheet…. (0)
China: The Balance Sheet differs from most other books we have been reading in preparation for our 22 province journey across China for charity and understanding. China guides to business or living become obsolete almost before they are published. And most of the “expert” commentary on China gives the reader intellectual whiplash: The data contained in strategy texts is often conflicting or out-dated. To offset that problem, this text offers online resources for continuing information and is a testament both to the wisdom and commitment of the authors.
China: The Balance Sheet isn’t so much a book as it is a project that yielded enough information for a book. It is a collection of work, information, and analyses collected by the Institute for International Economics and the Center for Strategic and International Studies, and The Balance Sheet is rife with diverse demographics, like statistics about China’s graying population, as well as an informed political discussion on the Middle Kingdom’s long, curious relationship with Russia. Yes, its such dry reading that we carried an Internet canteen–interspersing the book with irreverent spoofs from Sinocidal to keep from humor dehydration–but every sentence, to drag out a metaphor, is an informational oasis for a Sinophile.
One of the more engaging elements of this book is its ability to maintain a separation from the standard strains of China fever: while the book delivers competent, clear information about mainland China, it avoids over-generalizations and makes clear the plurality and multiplicity of a country with 56 distinct ethnic groups, 200 spoken languages, and size enough to make Europe jealous. As Lucien Pye of foreignaffairs.org says of the book: “The main thrust of the analysis is that diversity has replaced the monolithic system that Mao Zedong created. There are, therefore, many Chinas — rural and urban, wealthy and poor, educated and illiterate, international and isolated.” And yes, seemingly benign statements like that one make it unavailable on the mainland, but censors should tale a second look as it is careful to avoid the paranoia about China’s growth that pervades Western news and doesn’t issue dark proclamations about China’s fearsome rise or apocalyptic fall. The book holds to tenets set forth in early pages: “Because we believe that constructive US policies toward China must rest, first and foremost, on a firm factual and analytical footing, this study’s primary purpose is to provide comprehensive, balanced, and accurate information on all key aspects of China’s own development and its implications for other nations.”
Will the Balance Sheet help you understand business culture in China and learn the secrets of guanxi, face, or how to hold your chopsticks at just the right angle to impress the Chinese delegation leader? No. Will the book arm you with a clear understanding of the economic, political, and demographic realities facing China now? Yes. You can find an overview and preview of the first chapter of the book here and a collection of 2007 published addendum’s here.
This ranks high on our list of must-read texts along with Harold Chee’s Myths.
By David DeGeest with Lonnie B. Hodge
Posted 27 July, 2007 in Internet marketing China, Guangzhou, Chinese Medicine, Travel in China, Chinese Internet, The Internet, The Great Firewall, Foshan China, Chinese New Year, India, China Book Reviews, Chinese Media, China Business Consultant, China Expat, Shanghai, china books, Hainan Island, Chinese Education, Korea, Chinese Proverbs, Human Rights, 中文, Wholesale Electronics China, Wholesale Products China, China Expats, Intercultural Issues, Expats, Teaching in China, Japan, Asia, Hong Kong, Macau, Book Reviews, Asian Women, China Editorials, China Business, 中国, Guangzhou China, The Great Wall, Chinese Festivals, In the news, Tibet, China Olympics, Weird China, Confucius Slept Here, China web 2.0
Cinderella Teaching in the Greatest Monkey Show on Earth (1)
An open letter to my students:
Two men recently completed a controversial recreation of Mao’s Long March. At every point along the march, people stared at them and puzzled over their purpose. On one particular occasion, a rural farmer walked up to the travellers and asked, “are you here to do a monkey show?” The historian-marchers, having long ago tired of explaining their journey, wearily assented. “Oh,” the farmer replied. “So…where are the monkeys?”
One of my colleagues (your teacher) a year ago told me that there were two types of expatriate educators in China: performing and non-performing monkeys. It was his feeling that neither administration nor the student body understood any of the reasons he elected to remain in China as a teacher.
Any of you who have been my students in the past two years have seen the movie Cinderella Man. Many of you remember two of the questions I asked following the movie: who would you most like to be in the movie, and who do you think I would most like to be? A few of you knew immediately what my answer would be. It’s the same answer I would expect from anyone who has devoted their life to pedagogy. Some of you wanted to Jim Braddock, champion of the world, devoted parent, and courageous cum-victorious underdog. Others of you would be happy being the rich, yet hardly kind, fight promoter. And a small group of you were comfortable, as I was, picking Jimmy’s trainer as our role model.
I’ve been fortunate enough to have great successes in my life, but my greatest pleasure comes from seeing any one of my students succeed emotionally, personally, financially, or professionally.
Some doomsayers think that China’s spectacular growth is a fairy tale and doomed to a tragic end. If I believed that, I wouldn’t be here. But I believe that some of your notions about education, teachers, and Western culture must change or this will be a very short chapter in book 4,000 years in the making.
Many of you know that my expectations of you in class are different than some other foreign experts. I expect you, for the short time you are in my classroom, to behave as though you were a guest in a foreign country. I expect you to rehearse new patterns of behavior and to make a paradigm shift in your thinking about business and culture in order make to more effective global citizens and international businessmen.
I returned this week from a vacation of sorts, as I spent most of it reading and researching Chinese history and culture in order to better integrate myself into this society and to become a better teacher.
I can probably never expect to be more than a shengren, an outsider who one day you may come to know and trust as more than just an acquaintance. I know that I already view many of you as shuren, or as zijiren, special people for whom I will always have a place in my heart, and for whom I will always make time should you need me.
Here are some of the things I learned:
- I learned that if your country’s explosive growth continues at its current rate for the next 28 years, your economy will be as large as that of the United States. While this sounds impressive, the reality is that you will still have only one quarter the spending power per capita at that time as your counterparts in America.
- Your country, as estimated by UNESCO, will be 20 million college seats short of its needs by 2020.
- In fields like engineering, only ten percent of your current college graduates, because of a lack of resources (including high-quality foreign teachers) and an advanced curriculum, will be able to compete with their global contemporaries.
- China invests seven dollars of research and development money for a return of one dollar in new production output. Conversely, America’s ratio is one to one.
- Your economy has doubled in size every six years, and 250 million people have been pulled up out of poverty. You have the second largest foreign reserves in the world. You made 25% of the world’s televisions, 60% of the world’s bicycles, and 50% of the world’s shoes and cameras.
Sun Zi’s 36 strategies have served you well to this point. You have used offensive, defensive, and deceptive strategies to create the most enviable economy in the world. But to sustain your growth, you will need better knowledge of your enemy. As you know, Sun Zi said,
“Know your enemy, know yourself, and you can fight 100 battles with no danger of defeat. When you are ignorant of the enemy but know yourself, the chances of winning and losing are equal. If you know neither your enemy nor yourself, you are bound to perish in every battle.”
Business is war. Were I still a military man, I might be guilty of giving aid and comfort to the enemy. It is my bounden duty to prepare you for battles in negotiation, acculturation, and professional assimilation. To further drag out this metaphor, I am the training officer who will ultimately be responsible for your campaign successes and failures.
For me, statistical data like that above isn’t much more informative than astrology in that it instructs you in what you can and should avoid. You can change a timeline that hasn’t yet been drawn.
I’m neither a performing monkey nor do I have a troupe of them for your enjoyment. I’m a teacher and a foreign who spends nearly 24 hours, seven days a week learning about and adapting to a China I’ve come to love dearly. All that is asked of you is that you honor my commitment and the commitment of other foreign teachers who take their jobs and their place in this society seriously. On one hand, a few hours a week against the rest of your life is a small sacrifice if you learn nothing. On the other hand, if it creates in you a kind of mental muscle memory that secures your position in even one future negotiation, it was time well spent.
With congratulations to the graduates of 2007. I will always be your cornerman.
Posted 23 July, 2007 in Chinese Proverbs, Guangzhou, Internet marketing China, Chinese Internet, Heartsongs, Macau University of Science and Technology, China Expat, China Business Consultant, American Professor in China, Chinese Education, The Great Wall, past posts, China Cartoons, Teaching in China, Expats, Intercultural Issues, China Business, Confucius Slept Here, Guangzhou China, Chinglish, Personal Notes, China Expats
Dreams, Repression and Violence…Part I (1)
This week I taught two seemingly disparate classes: one obliquely encouraged students to dialogue about their inner-most dreams and the other, coincidentally and disturbingly scheduled on the day of the tragic shootings in Virginia, had much in common: Students were asked to differentiate between the words job, vocation and calling and apply it to their own lives. I was deeply moved and, as is often the case, I exchanged my role as teacher for that of student. Those of us who have taught ESL for a number of years know well to listen to the sounds that return to us from across the cultural divide. Chinese students are noted for their silence in the classroom and for their rapid adaptation to accepted or expected classroom ideas. Much of what they will express is meant to be superficial; hence, safe. But, occasionally, if you listen closely enough, you will hear the overflow of the heart become word. The sounds that I heard this week were not the echoes of my own voice and I listened carefully.
Most of my students lamented that their jobs upon graduation were likely to be menial and unrewarding. They expressed awareness that because they were students at a second-tier college the likelihood that they would join the ranks of millions of unemployed graduates was great. Many of them spoke of their vocational “choices” as inevitable: preparations foisted upon them by parents, poor entrance scores, or a lack of financial resources needed to pursue their true calling.
In my class of would-be lawyers, traditional Chinese medicine practitioners and those training to be businessmen there were actually singers, visual artists, humanitarian aid workers, writers, Olympic athletes and more….. My students spoke with passion about their dreams now being relegated to meditations of what could, or should, have been.
But when I asked them how they felt about giving up or belaying the calls of the heart they were not able to answer. They have practiced for so long to give the outward appearance of gratitude and acceptance that they cannot see the dissonance. for them, to grouse about their lot in life while spending their parents’ hard-earned money on tuition would be to completely dishonor their families. Few Asian students would ever defy the wishes of their parents in such matters. Instead, it is easier to dissociate or suffer in silence than to profess displeasure at one’s lot in life. It is at once admirable and heartbreaking to see students inexorably tied to the dreams of others while abandoning their own.
It is my guess that so many suicides on Chinese campuses are directly related to this sense of familial duty and the inability to express feelings of displeasure. I see student denial of feelings as type of socially induced alexithymia that is pervasive in Chinese culture. Alexithymia is a condition characterized by a disconnect between emotions and actions. Individuals who are alexithymia cannot accurately describe feelings they are having nor are they in touch with how the feelings are being manifested in other parts of their lives. Such disconnect breeds addiction, somatic disorders, difficulty in relatioships and, in rare cases, suicide or violence.
I have long considered suicide as the ultimate and most devastating act of domestic violence. Suicide is more than anger turned inward: it is rage brought to fruition. And last year four students and two faculty members, unknown to each other, jumped to their deaths in Guangzhou in the same week. I believe that at least two of the deaths were acts of aggression.
Coming: Dreams….Part II
Posted 19 July, 2007 in Censorship, 中国, Guangzhou, Chinese Proverbs, Violence, In the news, Personal Notes, China Editorials, Teaching in China, China Business, American Poet in China, Confucius Slept Here, Intercultural Issues
Cinderella Teaching in the Greatest Monkey Show on Earth (5)
An open letter to my students:
Two men recently completed a controversial recreation of Mao’s Long March. At every point along the march, people stared at them and puzzled over their purpose. On one particular occasion, a rural farmer walked up to the travellers and asked, “are you here to do a monkey show?” The historian-marchers, having long ago tired of explaining their journey, wearily assented. “Oh,” the farmer replied. “So…where are the monkeys?”
One of my colleagues (your teacher) a year ago told me that there were two types of expatriate educators in China: performing and non-performing monkeys. It was his feeling that neither administration nor the student body understood any of the reasons he elected to remain in China as a teacher.
Any of you who have been my students in the past two years have seen the movie Cinderella Man. Many of you remember two of the questions I asked following the movie: who would you most like to be in the movie, and who do you think I would most like to be? A few of you knew immediately what my answer would be. It’s the same answer I would expect from anyone who has devoted their life to pedagogy. Some of you wanted to Jim Braddock, champion of the world, devoted parent, and courageous cum-victorious underdog. Others of you would be happy being the rich, yet hardly kind, fight promoter. And a small group of you were comfortable, as I was, picking Jimmy’s trainer as our role model.
I’ve been fortunate enough to have great successes in my life, but my greatest pleasure comes from seeing any one of my students succeed emotionally, personally, financially, or professionally.
Some doomsayers think that China’s spectacular growth is a fairy tale and doomed to a tragic end. If I believed that, I wouldn’t be here. But I believe that some of your notions about education, teachers, and Western culture must change or this will be a very short chapter in book 4,000 years in the making.
Many of you know that my expectations of you in class are different than some other foreign experts. I expect you, for the short time you are in my classroom, to behave as though you were a guest in a foreign country. I expect you to rehearse new patterns of behavior and to make a paradigm shift in your thinking about business and culture in order make to more effective global citizens and international businessmen.
I returned this week from a vacation of sorts, as I spent most of it reading and researching Chinese history and culture in order to better integrate myself into this society and to become a better teacher.
I can probably never expect to be more than a shengren, an outsider who one day you may come to know and trust as more than just an acquaintance. I know that I already view many of you as shuren, or as zijiren, special people for whom I will always have a place in my heart, and for whom I will always make time should you need me.
Here are some of the things I learned:
- I learned that if your country’s explosive growth continues at its current rate for the next 28 years, your economy will be as large as that of the United States. While this sounds impressive, the reality is that you will still have only one quarter the spending power per capita at that time as your counterparts in America.
- Your country, as estimated by UNESCO, will be 20 million college seats short of its needs by 2020.
- In fields like engineering, only ten percent of your current college graduates, because of a lack of resources (including high-quality foreign teachers) and an advanced curriculum, will be able to compete with their global contemporaries.
- China invests seven dollars of research and development money for a return of one dollar in new production output. Conversely, America’s ratio is one to one.
- Your economy has doubled in size every six years, and 250 million people have been pulled up out of poverty. You have the second largest foreign reserves in the world. You made 25% of the world’s televisions, 60% of the world’s bicycles, and 50% of the world’s shoes and cameras.
Sun Zi’s 36 strategies have served you well to this point. You have used offensive, defensive, and deceptive strategies to create the most enviable economy in the world. But to sustain your growth, you will need better knowledge of your enemy. As you know, Sun Zi said,
“Know your enemy, know yourself, and you can fight 100 battles with no danger of defeat. When you are ignorant of the enemy but know yourself, the chances of winning and losing are equal. If you know neither your enemy nor yourself, you are bound to perish in every battle.”
Business is war. Were I still a military man, I might be guilty of giving aid and comfort to the enemy. It is my bounden duty to prepare you for battles in negotiation, acculturation, and professional assimilation. To further drag out this metaphor, I am the training officer who will ultimately be responsible for your campaign successes and failures.
For me, statistical data like that above isn’t much more informative than astrology in that it instructs you in what you can and should avoid. You can change a timeline that hasn’t yet been drawn.
I’m neither a performing monkey nor do I have a troupe of them for your enjoyment. I’m a teacher and a foreign who spends nearly 24 hours, seven days a week learning about and adapting to a China I’ve come to love dearly. All that is asked of you is that you honor my commitment and the commitment of other foreign teachers who take their jobs and their place in this society seriously. On one hand, a few hours a week against the rest of your life is a small sacrifice if you learn nothing. On the other hand, if it creates in you a kind of mental muscle memory that secures your position in even one future negotiation, it was time well spent.
With congratulations to the graduates of 2007. I will always be your cornerman.
Posted 1 July, 2007 in Chinese Proverbs, Guangzhou, Internet marketing China, Chinese Internet, Heartsongs, Macau University of Science and Technology, China Expat, China Business Consultant, American Professor in China, Chinese Education, The Great Wall, past posts, China Cartoons, Teaching in China, Expats, Intercultural Issues, China Business, Confucius Slept Here, Guangzhou China, Chinglish, Personal Notes, China Expats
Dreams, Repression and Violence…Part I (2)
This week I taught two seemingly disparate classes: one obliquely encouraged students to dialogue about their inner-most dreams and the other, coincidentally and disturbingly scheduled on the day of the tragic shootings in Virginia, had much in common: Students were asked to differentiate between the words job, vocation and calling and apply it to their own lives. I was deeply moved and, as is often the case, I exchanged my role as teacher for that of student. Those of us who have taught ESL for a number of years know well to listen to the sounds that return to us from across the cultural divide. Chinese students are noted for their silence in the classroom and for their rapid adaptation to accepted or expected classroom ideas. Much of what they will express is meant to be superficial; hence, safe. But, occasionally, if you listen closely enough, you will hear the overflow of the heart become word. The sounds that I heard this week were not the echoes of my own voice and I listened carefully.
Most of my students lamented that their jobs upon graduation were likely to be menial and unrewarding. They expressed awareness that because they were students at a second-tier college the likelihood that they would join the ranks of millions of unemployed graduates was great. Many of them spoke of their vocational “choices” as inevitable: preparations foisted upon them by parents, poor entrance scores, or a lack of financial resources needed to pursue their true calling.
In my class of would-be lawyers, traditional Chinese medicine practitioners and those training to be businessmen there were actually singers, visual artists, humanitarian aid workers, writers, Olympic athletes and more….. My students spoke with passion about their dreams now being relegated to meditations of what could, or should, have been.
But when I asked them how they felt about giving up or belaying the calls of the heart they were not able to answer. They have practiced for so long to give the outward appearance of gratitude and acceptance that they cannot see the dissonance. for them, to grouse about their lot in life while spending their parents’ hard-earned money on tuition would be to completely dishonor their families. Few Asian students would ever defy the wishes of their parents in such matters. Instead, it is easier to dissociate or suffer in silence than to profess displeasure at one’s lot in life. It is at once admirable and heartbreaking to see students inexorably tied to the dreams of others while abandoning their own.
It is my guess that so many suicides on Chinese campuses are directly related to this sense of familial duty and the inability to express feelings of displeasure. I see student denial of feelings as type of socially induced alexithymia that is pervasive in Chinese culture. Alexithymia is a condition characterized by a disconnect between emotions and actions. Individuals who are alexithymia cannot accurately describe feelings they are having nor are they in touch with how the feelings are being manifested in other parts of their lives. Such disconnect breeds addiction, somatic disorders, difficulty in relatioships and, in rare cases, suicide or violence.
I have long considered suicide as the ultimate and most devastating act of domestic violence. Suicide is more than anger turned inward: it is rage brought to fruition. And last year four students and two faculty members, unknown to each other, jumped to their deaths in Guangzhou in the same week. I believe that at least two of the deaths were acts of aggression.
Coming: Dreams….Part II
Posted 19 April, 2007 in Censorship, 中国, Guangzhou, Chinese Proverbs, Violence, In the news, Personal Notes, China Editorials, Teaching in China, China Business, American Poet in China, Confucius Slept Here, Intercultural Issues
When you drink water remember the source… (7)
A few years ago my Korean Taekwondo master, with another American and his very young Korean teacher in the room, spoke to me in perfect Japanese. He proceeded to tell me that I should be wary as there was conflict between the two men. Then he winked and told me, again in Japanese, not to reveal the extent of his linguistic skills to anyone else. He had known for years prior to this day that I was fluent in Japanese, but had remained silent.
A day or two after his disclosure I asked him why he had kept it such a secret. He explained to me that to speak Japanese was to call to mind the days of his youth and the Japanese occupation of Korea. He had been forced to abandon his family identity by taking a Japanese name, forbidden to study Korean martial arts, and was witness to the arrogance and brutality of the Imperial army. I guessed his motive in revealing his secret to me came out of the then daily news on the continued Sino-Japanese-Korean animosities at that time: This was the oblique way a proud, accomplished man could release some long-held pain.
It was not long after our talk that he and another icon in Taekwondo encountered a man in an elevator in a Seoul hotel. The man asked, in his native Japanese, if they were also from Japan. The two men, ordinarily gentle and soft-spoken, emerged from the elevator while the visiting businessman remained aboard, having been rendered unconscious.
And only a week after the elevator event, Korea demolished an extraordinarily beautiful building in Seoul that had been erected during the occupation by the Imperial army. The Koreans did not just tear it down: they smashed each brick individually. The enormous collective pain of a nation had bled into every emotionally permeable membrane.
Japan has made half-hearted attempts to heal a divided Pacific rim community that still views Japan as unrepentant and inexorably tied to its militaristic past. Haruki Wada’s Asian Women’s Fund for comfort women, sexually used and abused by Japanese soldiers, is one of Tokyo’s most telling gestures.
The fund basically was meant to give the appearance of an apology without angering a large segment of Japan that viewed restitution as a loss of national face; hence, disgraceful.
fund did do some good for a fraction of the tens of thousands affected. A few hundred women from Taiwan, the Philippines and elsewhere received about $16,000 US Dollars from the fund (not the government) and a personal (not official) apology from the Japanese Prime Minister. Chinese women in the mainland received nothing as Beijing refused to set up an official authentication system for the victims. Other money from a relatively tiny fund went to hospital bills, retirement homes and medical facilities that benefited some women.
The latest round of reconciliation talks between Beijing and Tokyo are bound to evoke old memories for many in Korea, China, Taiwan and the Phillipines again. And forgiveness is unlikely to be forthcoming as long as the guilty party is still asking others to apologize or intervene on its behalf.
Beijing has been using water analogies throughout this process: China has called for the melting of ice and building a bridge over a sea of peace between the two countries. But, I doubt there will be much water flowing under non-existent metaphorical bridges until the leadership of Japan claims ownership for a destructive past, corrects false and state sponsored historical teachings, and begins tending to the living souls of its neighbors instead of conjuring the spirits of atrocity via visits to Yasukuni Shrine.
A Chinese Proverb: 饮水思源 (When you drink water remember the source)