Global Leadership in an Academic Fishbowl:
Fast Times in China
I’ve been in China for six months and in school for less than 130 days, and I have enjoyed much of my time here in the Middle Kingdom. I have also realized, since beginning my journey to academic greatness, that my cultural victories and moral defeats within the BiMBA program have many parallels to the one year I spent stationed in the Middle East as a deployed member of the United States Military. The caveat, of course, is that I’m writing this manifesto five months into my “time-served” and acknowledgeably, my current perspective is likely to be far removed from my final lamentations of life in Chinese academia. But, I can say that this has been the most stimulating experience of my life and I can feel myself maturing day by day. Eat, with a couple grains of salt, digest, enjoy.
During my first thirty days in the desert, I worked in awe of the technological state of our deployed headquarters and marveled at the wealth of knowledge held by a handful of people working the most pressing combat issues in the Middle East region. Everything was bright and shiny. Within weeks I knew how to get to work, where all the critical facilities were located and how long a chow hall run would take me away from my work station. I relished the heady (yet temporary) high of constant newness and unending stimulation. While my new environment fed my imagination everyday, my new co-workers proved to be the most challenging aspect of my transition. My new teammates were a hodge podge of actors brought together under less than ideal circumstances. David Friedman once said, “The direct use of force is such a poor solution to any problem, it is generally employed only by small children and large nations.” I was a card-carrying member of the latter. In 2004, I joined a fraternity of professional soldiers, based in Qatar, hailing from all over the globe. Some of my new teammates seemed relatively familiar—Coalition Forces (UK, Canadian and Australian forces—complete with all the good-natured Commonwealth eccentricities), some NATO members (brought together for a common cause, but like in-laws on a road trip, politeness belied ulterior political motives), but most from the good ole’ US military (hubris is free of charge).
I quickly became acquainted with the many nationalities present on our compound. I had never worked so closely with so many foreign officers and I found that our cultural biases could most easily be observed during simple every-day activities. Routine meetings became an almost Oxford-quality study of cultural habits. The Americans, ever on time, chaired the majority of meetings, with Brits and Aussies presiding over the rest. Any number of meetings could host up to a dozen different nationalities, many of which were late to arrive or confused by the speed of decision-making. In turn, these gatherings would become a proving ground for moments of cultural, military or self-importance. The Qatari’s, the host nation contingent, rarely came to any staff meetings and on the special occasion when they did make an appearance, it was never on time. Comically enough, a common understanding and tolerance of buffoonery from our NATO and host-national brethren was a bonding factor for Coalition Forces to build a foundation of trust.
Likewise, I would estimate nearly two months ago, our MBA class moved from the polite to the storming (or deforming) stage of team building. Previously, we had all existed in an alternate plane of cultural bliss, rejoicing in our differences and in awe of our common potential for greatness. On a personal level, everyday routines, like boarding a train to class became a Picasso-esqe work of art, refined down to the priceless seconds that separated the haves (with seats) and have-nots left on the platform to wait for the next train. The incessant newness of buying coffee, recharging cell phones or even successfully walking across the street held simple and satisfying rewards. But, every new toy must lose its luster and BiMBA, through the lens of my military sensibilities, was no different. My first signal of multi-national relations gone awry was my observations of group work dynamics. Every group included a westerner (sometimes Coalition), an Asian foreigner (NATO…IFF[1] intermittently working), and several Chinese nationals (obligatory host nation contingent). Coalition would naturally be the most outspoken and step into the leadership role by default. Of course, true cultural skill is measured by whether ‘soft power’ accompanies hard power--which, in the case of a Chinese majority--does not. Host nationals will mostly remain silent, waiting patiently for Coalition or NATO misstep to distance themselves from the fray or to establish an alternate center of influence.
As always, the host national determines the length, content and legitimacy of any agreement and naturally (and unfortunately) an us-them schism develops. Individuals are judged as representatives of an entire nation. Just as I am outspoken, opinionated, quick to point out my own faults, as well as those around me, surely I must be the average American. Likewise, given my observations of my Chinese classmates, all Chinese are quiet, pseudo-aggressive and obsessive about the building and maintaining of face…right? This bull-headed, simple-minded belief in an one-dimensional model by which to explain the idiosyncrasies’ of 1.3 Billion people is an embarrassing admission, but seems so logical while in the throws of culture shock.
Akin to my deployed experience, bold, brash, gregarious Westerners naturally took the lead in BiMBA group projects. We were always the first to suggest potential topics, anxious to make quick progress and uncomfortable with the silent contemplation of our classmates. Most times, we believed the lack of Chinese participation in group discussion was due to a dearth of creativity or genuine original thought concerning the subject. On a side note, this opinion would still pertain to some (very few), of my classmates. However, like the expressive, direct brutes that we Americans are, often times we missed the subtleties that signaled approval, confusion or disagreement within our team. When projects would become burdened with the weight of serious disagreement, personality traits would influence the course of action. Some of my Chinese team members would fixate on so many small details and ultimately became lost in the fray when finally focusing on the big picture. Others would take a stand purely on circular logic and the pride associated with a voiced opinion. As with my experience in Qatar, I realized that we all had different standards by which we viewed victory.
While stationed in the Middle East I read an opinion piece about the difference between Marines (ultra-Americans) and Iraqi’s. We often quipped that this guy must be the smartest grunt in the entire Marine Corps, as he could string together multi-syllabic words. In truth, although we are neither Marines, nor Iraqis, I find that Americans are so different from every other culture that his analogy still holds true. This marine stated that the differences between Americans and Iraqi’s can be demonstrated in something as simple as comparing the two countries’ national sport, American football and soccer, respectively. First, America’s sport of choice American football (here after called ‘football’…as it should be) is a reflection of our cultural attitudes: it is linear, aggressive and goal oriented. There must be a winner and a loser and we would prefer undeniable proof of greatness or mediocrity. As such, we demand big scores with little chance of a tie. For example, the victor doesn’t just get a point for crossing a goal line, they earn six points. Kicking the ball through a field goal scores three points. The worst case imaginable would be for a game to end in a tie, but we (of course) have a remedy for that. We will enact multiple periods of overtime until there is an unambiguous winner and loser.
In contrast, this brilliant Marine states that Iraqi’s behavior can often be explained through the national sport of soccer. Soccer is a patient man’s game. An inordinate amount of time is spent kicking the ball laterally, or even backwards, in hopes of creating a situation ripe for one of the very few scores that will occur during regulation play. Soccer lacks the fast pace, masculine disregard for injury or high scores that attract droves of American fans. In soccer, ties are acceptable and even considered a victory when matched against a better team. While I am not an American marine (thank God) and my Chinese classmates are not my enemy or someone I feel I have to “save” (again, thank you), the extremes of American cultural habits are well-demonstrated by this analogy.
Thankfully, I believe that by working though our differences our class has grown to understand each other and I expect that, much like my remote tour to Qatar, we’ve become resigned to our individual mannerisms and have even started to relish our cultural conflicts. I’ve also realized that by understanding cultural dynamics, I can even wield the power of my knowledge with some skill. But, as uncle Pete once said to Spiderman, “with great power comes great responsibility”, so try as I might, I also expect that I’ll overstep my “expertise” (I use that in the loosest sense of the word) and be put back into my too-familiar cultural learning curve.
Another parallel to my previous deployed experience is the exponential learning curves and plateaus that mark the days and months. We’ve become used to the Chinese way of doing things…on our recent trip to Japan, traffic was maddeningly orderly, especially during left-hand turns in traffic light intersections. Food was ridiculously expensive and there were noticeably less people around to clean up after me. Returning to Beijing was like seeing life thru the character Brooks in The Shawshank Redemption—I longed for the return to what I once considered a “prison”. I can’t deny that the cleanliness, rather genteel personal resolution of bodily phleminess and overall politeness was like drinking cold, Alps-aquifered, H2O gold after months of Beijing tap water, but like Dorthy said, “there is no place like home”.
I am so excited for all my future adventures. I’ve lived abroad before (in Taipei and Qatar), but this is the first long-term overseas move I’ve ever made and it has been an incredible learning experience. After leaving Qatar and returning home to all the creature comforts I’d longed for, I can honestly say that although I spent a year without my husband, without a bathroom in my dorm (mid-night bathroom runs were awful) and subsisting on Bangladeshi and Pakistani-made American food, I would return to Qatar in a heartbeat. The amount of stimulation, everyday challenge and esprit de corps with my teammates has been unmatched in any other work environment. Likewise, my move to China has been an unexpected treasure that I’ll be able to savor, even after my youth and spirit for adventure wanes. Of course, realistically, the mind’s eye tends to relive the positive and discard the negative of the past and so I try to constantly remind myself that “I’m living the dream” everyday I’m in China. Of course, I have morally depressing days, filled with frustration over my inability to communicate reasonable issues or wrought with Gibraltar-sized cultural biases that impede the ease by which I grow my Chinese friendships, but I even try to treasure the challenging days. In fact, I think relishing these days are important, as it makes long-term victory even sweeter.
Without a doubt, I will work in another multi-national environment again, either burdened with the seriousness of the battlefield or restrained by the political confines of an embassy posting. The lessons I’ve learned so far in China, combined with all the China tough-love I expect to be graced with, should adequately prepare me for the challenges ahead. Please don’t mistake my optimism for confidence that I won’t go through culture shock, or be able to avoid the frustration that accompanies any new immersion experience--my point is that I have new arrows for my psychological quiver. Moreover, I think it is exceedingly important for me absorb, learn and wield these lessons with passion. Prisoners from Abu Gharayb, villagers in Okinawa, refugees in Somalia all collectively hope for a more educated, culturally savvy and empathetic US military. President Jimmy Carter once said, “We have become not a melting pot but a beautiful mosaic. Different people, different beliefs, different yearnings, different hopes, different dreams,” and it is in this spirit of hope and pride that I forge ahead for a lifetime of adventures fueled by my younger years living in the most populous nation the world has ever borne, in the definitive country of my generation. Clearly, I’m living the dream.
[1] In telecommunications, identification, friend or foe (IFF) is a cryptographic identification system designed for command and control. It is a system that enables military, and national (civilian-located ATC) interrogation systems to distinguish friendly aircraft, vehicles, or forces, and to determine their bearing and range from the interrogator. (from www.wikipedia.org)
1 comment:
"rather genteel personal resolution of bodily phleminess"
I just want to say, you win at writing.
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