2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 12

The next day I sat in at Tim's IMBA class before heading back to Tianjin in the evening. Just to reminisce the good old days in university. Today's topic was Best Buy's entry into the Chinese market. There was some very interesting discussion about clarifying underlying assumptions. I should've taken notes.

The class was composed of an older crowd, management from large corporations, mostly Chinese, or Malaysian, or Singaporean, speaking perfect English. They had come from all over Asia just to listen to Tim speak for a week.

The funny thing is, and it is SUCH a small world, I ran into a former classmate from UBC Commerce in Tim's class – Tong. When he first saw me he pointed at me in disbelief, jaw dropped. Almost as if to say, are you who I think you are? When he finally collected himself, he said, "I was just looking at your Facebook pictures, know that you're traveling in China, and today I lift my head, and all of a sudden you magically appeared in front of me. It's like you leaped off the screen and into class."

Tong and I had dinner together, where he told me this wonderful story full of drama and hand gestures of his adjustment to life in China, a period he considered a bloody and tearful one.

I almost wanted to move to Shanghai just to watch him tell me another one of his stories.

I had been wondering about the prospect of "leaping" to Beijing or Shanghai to work. They seem like such exciting places. And China is probably an exciting place to be with the country on the rise in economic prosperity. Perhaps I don't need a change of profession, all I needed was a change of environment?

Tong told me how his parents found him a cushy job at a transportation and logistics company in Shanghai, and all he did was send a few emails a day, coordinate shippings of boxes. "I was like a Fedex mailman," he said. Every now and then the boss with his broken English would correct Tong's English grammar to prove his linguistic superiority. Tong was always careful to be polite and respectful, but his efforts were futile. The boss wouldn't give him any responsibility even if the rest of the staff was drowning in deadlines.

Like every new grad, Tong eagerly wanted to make a difference, and do something with his life. Is that such a wrong thing to hope for? Why does the corporate world have to impose so many barriers that prevent young people from channeling this energy into something productive for the firm, sooner? We pour tax money into education so our next generation could make the world a better place. But when they finally join the workforce and are ready to put theory into practice, we're more eager to "put them in their place" than to give them a chance to shine? Because we're afraid they'd outshine us? Because we're eager to prove we're more senior and more experienced and hence more valuable than they are? Isn't that proven already? Or because that's what our previous bosses did to us, so we have to inflict the same kind of suffering, or excuse me, learning, to the new guy that comes in the door? "They have so much to learn," we say. Yet, there's nothing we could learn from them? Just because a child was born into a long line of abusive family history, doesn't make being abusive to his future offspring the right thing to do.

One day Tong and his boss' conflict came to a boiling point and Tong requested transfer to a different department. The sales department, where the company sends their unwanted souls, took Tong in. This was a blessing in disguise. Tong was finally given freedom to soar. And things were finally starting to look up.

"There are a lot of little things you need to get used to in China too", Tong continued. I share his feelings wholeheartedly. It's like, 'oh you get that too! I thought I was the only one.' Young people in China seem to be a lot more mature than Chinese children who grew up in North America. They are a lot more aware of the social intricacies of Chinese "guanxi" or relationships, without which, you really can't get very far. People like Tong and me, if you put it nicely, we're innocent, not so nicely, plain stupid. Maybe because they grew up in a far more competitive environment, where opportunities are scarce, whereas Tong and I grew up in laid back Canada, where you don't need to constantly fight for survival. For example, Tong's cousin asked him to buy some ice cream at KFC. He went in there for 15 minutes and still didn't come out. She went in only to find him still waiting in line. "Why are you still waiting in line?" she asked. "Because people kept cutting in front of me!" You see, that just doesn't happen in Canada.

I'd also contemplated moving to China to work, maybe because I was bored of Vancouver, maybe because there are actually more exciting opportunities for business in Shanghai or Beijing. (Tim confirmed it is indeed the case). As I talked to more and more former Chinese international students who'd moved back to China, I began to realize, just because they'd been educated abroad, things aren't necessarily easier in China. While a change of environment would certainly be nice, the rules of the game would be different. Unless you are in a line of business that you're absolutely passionate about, so you don't mind overcoming these barriers, the climb upwards will likely present the same level of obstacles, if not more, by moving to corporate Asia. It'd be like changing the soup but not the ingredients; you'd still end up brewing pretty much the same concoction over time. In this case, simply moving to Asia wasn't the answer for me.