While Carolyn joined me at the end of the Technos trip, it was to explore old Japan and old Korea.
By old Japan, I had in mind Kyoto and Nara, where World War II had not flattened the buildings or firebombed them, partly because Secretary of War Henry Stimson had honeymooned there. Tourists ought to sing his praises.
While Nintendo claims Kyoto as its headquarters, it is better known for having been the capital of Japan from 794 until 1869. Known as Heian, it exudes charm, with the Kyoto palace buttressed by several buddhist shrines. It has an older section of the city which was where “Memories of a Geisha” was filmed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where we stayed. Talk about “customer service”. With kimonos in our room we were transported back in time to greater luxury and ambience. One evening, three meals, two treasures the cost, and worth it. Ryokan is the category.
If the city resembles a Tang dynasty capital–Chang’an (Xi’an) or Luoyang, it’s no accident. the “peaceful capital” (Heian) was modeled after those imperial cities. Isn’t that what it meant to be an emperor in Asia, even in the land where the sun comes up? (Nihon).
Nara was an 80 year prelude as the first capital of Japan, which later moved to Kyoto where it remained for a thousand years. Again, I felt we were in Tang China, which provided the feng shui for the layout of the city. It still houses 8 UNESCO heritage sites, but one of the unusual features is the protected deer park, which ecompasses the temples and shrines. The Todaji temple is the world’s largest wooden building. Fittingly, its sister cities include Xi’an and Kyongju.
As part of our tour of Tang China’s imitators, I wanted to take Carolyn to Kyongju, at one time the fourth largest city in the world, It was the capital of the Shilla Kingdom from 57 BC until 935 AD. I’d been to the “museum without walls,” but couldn’t get enough of the ancient splendor. The peak was the 7-9th century when the Shilla ruled most of the Korean peninsula. Today, historic buildings such as the Bulguksa (Buddhist) temple, the observatory, the bell, and the mostly un-excavated mounds evoke a splendid past. The buddha in the cave (Seokguram) is the most beautiful buddha I have ever seen.
The one disappointment I had was that when I had been in Korea in 1997, it was during the cherry blossom time. Gumi, our base then, was resplendent white. When Carolyn and I went through it on the train to Kyongju, all we saw was a naked industrial city.
On of the strongest connections of IWU withs Asia was with the Technos Institute of Tokyo. Minor Myers hit it off with the head of Technos,
Kenji Tanaka, who founded a basically vocational college (mostly tourism), and shared some of Minor’s quirkiness. As I understand it, Tanaka funded five universities (one in New Zealand) to send faculty and students for a cultural exchange in Tokyo. Minor came in at Hobart and Smith, one of the other colleges, and brought that with him.
As a member of, and sometimes head of the Asian Studies Committee at IWU, I was positioned to lead the trip. I was also in a position to choose the candidates among the sophomore students, and my goal was to ensure that one of them would be from Business Administration. That had never happened before at IWU. One of the other faculty pushed a student who when she saw fish, went, “Ew, fish.” She found being a vegetarian avoided that potential cultural conflict, and thus missed some of the best foods on the trip.
The format was that we would be flown to Tokyo and all our expenses would be covered (given how expensive Japan was, that was useful. We had a $50 voucher one night and it bought a hamburger and a coke). We stayed in different neighborhoods, which gave us a sense of the size if not diversity of Tokyo. As I recall, early on, we had a tremor, learning what the “rim of fire” was about.
Technos was a school focusing mostly on tourism, and one of the real treats was a resort maintained in the mountains, with a hot pool in the mornings watching the sun come up. It provided training to the Technos students, and joy to the guests.
Three other memories remain in my mind: the first was the Tuna Market (I think it moved in 2018), where ginormous Tuna were bought and sold. The most expensive went for $3 million. Charlie the Tuna would have been as astonished as I was to see the activity in the wee hours of the morning.
The second was Japanese baseball. I did not realize the teams were corporate. That is, the Tokyo Giants were part of the Yomiuri newspaper and television empire. Equivalent to the Yankees, the Giants are the oldest professional team and one of the most successful (22 championships). Their games were in the Tokyo Dome, starting at 6 pm. I did not realize until then that the start allowed the salarymen to come straight from work in their suits with briefcases. As you might expect from a Japanese crowd, the cheering was orchestrated and the audience followed the cheerleaders. Food was exceptional: bento instead of hot dog, with beer distributed via something like a fire extinguisher. It was great fun.
The third was a stay in a small town that looked like (and probably was) a locale for pictures of early Japan. Small shops, small buildings.
I should note that not only did faculty choose students, but many activities split faculty and students. It wasn’t like May Term–babysitting, guide, guardian, warden, whatever was required.
Mrs. Hoyt joined me afterwards for Kyoto and Nara to be reported later.
In 1999, David joined me for an “after May Term trip” to explore western China. It was shortly after US planes bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade, and tensions between the two countries was high. I remember Dr. Jin constantly on the phone to his friends in China, debating whether we ought to proceed to China given the anti-American protests. Having learned how to say, “Ottawa is wonderful this time of year” (everyone loves Canadians), we proceeded. When the group left, David—who’d joined us in Beijing—and I boarded a train that took us to Xi’an and eventually into Xinjiang.In Xi’an we had some visits to new sites—for example the tomb of the Empress Wu?, the lone female emperor of China. As we went west, we encountered more Chinese named Muhammad
, or who had beards. There were stunning mosques, and ruins of previous cities along the old Silk Road. Underground aqueducts nourished crops in the desert, as they had in ancient times. The Mogao caves at the entrance to the Taklimakan desert preserved Buddhist art from the 4th thru 14th centuries, scarred by Muslim invaders and Red Guards, but still magnificent. Dunhuang also offered camel rides, which gave one a feel for the enormity of “land travel” in ancient times. Grateful merchants had had the grottoes filled with paintings, either grateful for a successful passage, or in hopes of propitiating the gods and having a good trip. I remember Urumqi as an armed camp, with prominent Liberation Army troops in the streets, and in trucks; the locals had their own idea of what “liberation” meant, bombing busses occasionally. Kashgar stimulated me to read about “the Great Game”—the clash between the British Lion and the Russian Bear for India. Kashgar was one of those flashpoints, where the Russian Consul (whose compound included our guesthouse) had a private army. Inspired, I wanted to cross the Pamirs into Pakistan and Afghanistan….but even then, disturbed and disturbing countries. We visited ruins in Xinjiang: Gaochang and Jiaohe, Bezeklik Caves, which the Russians pilfered in the Great Game days and brought back to the Hermitage. “I know what wall those came from,” I said when I saw them in St. Petersburg. We also toured the TianShan mountains and rode horses to look at snow-capped peaks. We were really in the Wild West.
Interestingly, China is one time zone, at least government offices think so. They run on Beijing time. The rest of Xinjiang thinks local time makes more sense. It is certainly “different”.
The trip was fairly standard for me by now. South East Asia, working our way to China, with a Yangtze cruise, ending up in Beijing. One thing Brad Hannam and I did was to cross the border into Malaysia for a look at the palace of the richest man in the world (at one time), the Sultan of Johore. His outrageous behavior led the British to station a “minder” in Johore. What I remember most about the palace was his use of elephant legs as waste baskets and umbrella holders. But we did get a stamp for Malaysia in our passports, which was an added benefit.
The other “different” event was a monkey wrench thrown on May 7, 1999, when we received news that the US had “accidentally” bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade, and that anti-American protests had erupted in response in the China. With the safety of our charges in mind, Dr. Jin spent a lot of time contacting his friends in China to make sure we would not be endangered. We cautiously entered China, prompting our students to downplay their American identity (e.g., no Cubs shirts). At times it was tense, and we were known to say, “Ottawa is lovely this time of year”.
The only place I caught some flak was in Xi’an, on my extended trip. When I got a haircut, the barber talked about bad Americans. I told him, in Chinese, I was in China to see where my dad had fought for China against the Japanese. That put paid to that discussion.
We were lucky enough to connect with two of our alumni–at opposite ends of the expat spectrum–in Shanghai. One was Omar Sadeque, son of a Pakistani diplomat, who had gone to Baylor for an MBA. Hired by Cargill, at this point in his 20s, Cargill gave him $25 million to establish a chicken processing plant. He hosted our class and talked about his career and his opportunity. At the other end was Tuan Nguyen, who had come to China with me in 1995 as his last class at IWU before his January graduation; Tuan was so smitten by China that he resigned the job he had lined up and went to China to take his chances. When we met him, he was married to a Chinese woman and living a la Chinese. Omar, by contrast, lived in a gated community with a driver, a cook, and several servants.
We still managed to visit a number of business sites: Ringsit contract manufacturers of running shoes in Bangkok, Caterpillar Logistics in Singapore, always a treat given Cat’s insistence of supplying parts anywhere in the world in 48 hours, City University in Hong Kong, with my friend Eleanor, and Omar’s plant in Shanghai.
And we did the sites as well, including the Yangtze cruise, with a stop in Chungking at a museum featuring Vinegar Joe Stillwell, Chiang Kai-shek’s World War II nemesis.And we had time to eat. In those days, I built the meals into the trip, realizing hygiene was not always a consideration, especially in China. Later, when I realized students preferred Mickey Ds to dim sum, I set one banquet per city–so I could eat real Chinese instead of watered down French Fries. But not before we had snake wine. I insisted on having the reptile brought to the table where the venturesome sat, and prepared for us–bile in alcohol, among other things.
And Deng Xiao-ping said, “To be rich is glorious,” but a sign reminded us ….so true…
I don’t know how this trip escaped me at the time, but I have no notes from it. Only memories. We did a Southeast Asia and China trip with the Yangtze cruise. It was a pretty close knit group, with Brian Udovich as one of the ringleaders. Brian was president of the AMA at Illinois Wesleyan and led a pretty strong chapter. A football player, he was glad he found a good tailor in Hong Kong. I think Maheesh Raju was also on the trip, and Maheesh could not help himself with the numerous “bargains”. He had two or three extra suitcases by the end of the trip. Dr. Jin is pictured here chasing “heesh” to the bus, as “Heesh” said, “Just one more bargain.” He could not resist “genuine” cricket shirts. And one of the sororities sent several “brothers” who, in Shanghai, posed as Charlie’s Angels. Not sure they qualified, but one had a splendid rendition of “I just called to say I love you” that still warms my memories of the Yangtze cruise.
Over a Thanksgiving break, we left early for a conference in Palmerston North, New Zealand.
We had a great time in NZ, the least culturally uncomfortable place I have ever been. The stores were the same (KMart?), the language similar (two people separated by a common language), and the ambience well, as I told Carolyn, I do not think we need to go to England. We have not been there, and the real thing’d probably disappoint us. If nostalgia has a home, it’s probably NZ (or to put it differently, 3 million people is a city, not a country!).
We sampled as much of it as we could in 8 days. Auckland (airport to train station); Rotorua (a cross between the Wisconsin Dells the native Maori live there and Yellowstone’s geothermal features); NZ is on a fault and could go either from earthquake or volcano at any time; Palmerston North (where the conference was held);
Christchurch (the most English city in NZ); the train across the “Alps” (these people think they’re back “home”) to Greymouth; and Wellington (where I spent some time with Scouts NZ). It’s the gateway to the Antarctic, and a museum near the boat departure dock gave us a taste of frigid weather.
When I got back (after 42 hours in the air!), I told my classes that the answer to the question, “Is NZ really in Asia,” would probably be, “Yes, but they don’t really want to be there.”
They see themselves as different (see the map with South facing up). But I think the real map would be of England next to NZ. They describe themselves as England’s last, least, most loyal colony”; they talk about going home for holiday, home being England, and that’s 3 generations ago; the news is BBC, the weather forecasts for England and Wales; the sports–football is Manchester 2, Birmingham 1. I know more about Lord Spencer’s divorce than you do. Spiritually, –universities, government, labor unions, and history–they are England.
The picture I wish I had taken:
Carolyn napped in Rotorua while I took a bike ride around town. I found myself at a public park, with a lawn bowling green. All the men (white, dressed in white, and over 62; genetically, someone told me, the time bomb goes off and they go crazy for lawn bowls) were out. Alas, no camera, but that captured ye Olde England for me.
Though they are far from everything (6500 air miles from LA), in a lush semitropical environment south of the equator, with animals and fauna indigenous to NZ, they are part of Asia Pacific, kicking and screaming. As much as anything, business has Asianized NZ. They were kicked out of the Commonwealth when Britain opted for the common market, in the early 1970s. While Britain was NZ’s leading trading partner (70%) in 1950, and even as late as ‘82 was the leading economic partner (at 14%), that’s no longer true. It has taken fifteen years to realize it–or as the Aussies we hung around with at the conference pointed out, they’re at least 15 years behind us.
The leading countries in NZ trade today are Australia, Japan, the United States, Korea, and Britain. Of the European countries, only Britain, at 6% has a large share. And it is roughly the same with imports. As Don MacKinnon, minister for trade told our conference (and he has been one of the biggest internationalizers, “we can’t change where we’re at.”
In addition to trade, half the tourists; and 20,000 of the students are from Asia; more students are studying Japanese than French right now. Not all that (right now) is healthy because the currency crisis (and serious structural problems) have affected NZ. Epigrammatic was the story of the Malaysian tie company that canceled an order for $50,000 in ties because Mahathir said to conserve on the currency. Nationalism and protectionism will hurt NZ, as will the decline in the intra-Asia Pacific tourist trade.
Nonetheless, NZ is part of Asia Pacific, as is obvious in the trade. The trade with Australia is more heavily in manufactured items than with the rest of the world, but the rest of the trade is dominated by food and beverage (not just Steinlager beer, but dairy products–butter in the hotels in China and Thailand, for example, and lamb–the 60 million sheep crossing the road is NZ’s idea of a traffic jam), and primary products such as wool and lumber, the latter making Japan and Korea the largest volume market for NZ. But as one of our speakers pointed out, these are commodities, and commodities are price sensitive products. The advantage NZ has in agricultural goods is obvious–lots of land (especially when contrasted with so much of Asia), and a counter cyclical market to the northern hemisphere, except for California, which threatens to become the Kiwi producing capital of the world (all year round market).
And having, in the 1980s, cast off the ANZUS pact, besieging US nuclear vessels, etc., NZ again has become part of the Asia Pacific region.
Impressions:
1) Beautiful agricultural country. If I were sophisticated, I would have called it Scotland (but I’m not, so I thought it was like Wisconsin, but with more sheep). Consequences: 1) commodity markets in the world (cannot brand kiwis); 2) major foreign export; 3) trade mostly with Asia (to the great dismay of those who think they are English). Great lamb, incidentally, not like here.
2) Christchurch is wonderful; indeed, the cities reminded me of the Canadian some stunning older architectural wonders, but clean. I told Carolyn they are more like Toronto/Winnipeg than Chicago is. Christchurch has the University of Canterbury, Christ College, the Cathedral (and a gambling casino to help attract the Asian invasion of tourism that is the second largest industry). It’s also the gateway to the Antarctic, which made for an interesting museum.
3) Their sport (missed the gridiron results!) was rugby. I bought a shirt, but do not know where I can wear it because their team is the All Blacks!
4) The Maori cultural features were interesting, and I can watch mud bubble all day (in the geothermal things)
Carolyn could easily have rented my room in spring 1997, when I took my only sabbatical from IWU. My ambition was to use it to learn about working and living abroad; I had lined up an internship with Motorola, but the impending Asian Financial Crisis put paid to that idea. Instead, I wrote a paper for a conference that would take me to Hyderabad, and introduce me to South Asia, allowing me to add to my expertise on China.
Actually, Carolyn could have rented the whole house in January 1997, because she and David accompanied me on the journey. Before we sent Carolyn back (she didn’t have a sabbatical!). we had explored Bombay (Mumbai), Hyderabad (with the Golconda and the Char Minar), Delhi (where we were hosted by the family of one of my students), and with their help, patched together Jaipur (elephants and pink city), Agra (transfixed by the Taj Mahal), Fatepuhr Sekri (Akbar’s abortive capital), and for good measure, a short trip to Benares and the holy city of Hinduism, to balance the Mogul/British architecture elsewhere. We even got to stay in a palace (remnant of the India before independence, when it was partly British, partly princely states)
What an introduction to South Asia, and it’s contrasts. Incredible food, history, color–but in sight of the most expensive real estate in the world (the Malabar coast, I’m told), the slum of slumdog millionaire.
Fascinated, I knew I’d have to come back sometime; after all, every page in the Lonely Planet screamed, “Visit me!” And I knew I’d have to bring my students to see this part of what was rapidly becoming the Asian Economic Miracle. And some of you reading this, for better or worse, had that chance.
Let me dwell on the SE Asian parts, which sort of blend together.
As we were taking the train from Bangkok that would ultimately leave us in Singapore (thence home via Hong Kong), I was reading Megatrends Asia, a book touting the Asian Economic Miracle we were seeing on our trip. Bangkok was a city of cranes, and Malaysia, with its mix of Bumiputra (Malay) and Chinese was constructing an incredible infrastructure (and building roads in India).
As I think I mentioned, expats we met encouraged us to visit Pulau Penang; we did, and I fell in love with the old colonial architecture. It was, I thought, the Hong Kong I might have seen before the Viet Nam war changed Asia. I would later learn its business friendly areas would attract major manufacturing, including the Dell factory I would later visit with students.
We whisked through Kuala Lumpur, the then capital, a mix of Indo-Asian buildings, but a relatively modern city (founded in a mining boom late 19th century) with a distinctly Muslim flavor. Malacca lived up to its billing with its multicultural history of Portuguese, Dutch (better museum on the Dutch East India Company than I found in Amsterdam), and British past (love the monuments to Victoria’s Jubilee), and thence to Singapore, the miracle nanny state, ruled by Lee Kwan Yu since its independence in the 60s, a respite from the chaos of Asia.
On the second trip, David and I spent a little more time reconnoitering, staying in KL in a bungalow hotel out of the time of the Raj. The bar was full by noon. We also spent a few days in Chiang Mai (reacquainted via Japanese TV with Sibelius’ 5th symphony)
The treat on that May/June trip was a continuation to Indonesia, where we spent some time with the Scout organization. We went to one of their camps on Friday; noon prayers meant they deposited us until they were done. They saw to it we went to Jogjakarta, where we saw two of the great ruins of antiquity: Borobudur (reconstructed Buddhist temple, regaled by a local guitarist’s rendition of “Country Roads”) and Prambanan (a Hindu temple); ironically, Indonesia, the fourth largest country is predominantly Muslim, but we did see the Sultan’s palace.
Then there was Bali, truly a gem. My disappointment was my recognition that the equator means 12 hours of daylight, not the long tropical sunsets I hoped for. A ride through the Hindu villages (the Muslim conquest didn’t go much beyond Java) pointed out why the anti Dutch war for independence spared the island (and the subsequent bombings brought home that the terror was real).
As if we hadn’t seen enough, we stopped in Manila, with another stop to visit with Scouts. In some ways, Manila was the most Americanized place we went, not a surprise given the half century of American possession of the islands. The Scout uniforms resembled mine from the 50s, and I could find baseball scores in the paper, which was quite unusual.
I knew I’d be back to many of these areas in the subsequent decade, and I’d bring students to share the amazing sights, sounds, foods, and business energy I’d encountered.
My international travels with David began with my sabbatical in the spring of 1997. I had hoped to expand my knowledge of international business by working with Motorola in Beijing. I approached that company the year before, and tentatively discussed two months’ work, then a stipend to travel around the country. The Asian financial crisis put paid to that dream.
The rethink centered on a conference in Hyderabad. Non-resident Indians frequently set up conferences so they could return home during breaks. The conference was on global organizations, and I submitted a paper on “The United Nations in Short Pants,” a discussion of International Scouting. A discussion with one of my students led to an invitation to stay with his family in New Delhi; “how can you be an Asianist without knowing anything about India,” he questioned.
I would take my family with me to India, and Carolyn agreed that if I traveled afterwards with David, I could stay on in the East.
Thus began our first visit to India.
After the conference, we based other Indian excursions out of the Malhotra’s (former student) who lived in a gated community in Delhi, riding the train to the Taj Mahal and Agra and Jaipur, riding elephants, before spending a day on
the Ganges at Benares. Mr. Malhotra questioned that only one day at Benares. I told Jaghi that we had seen Muslim India (the Taj and the Red Fort), and British India (the Cantonment and streets of Delhi, the Gateway to India, and Luytens’ imposing buildings in Delhi. When young Mr. Malhotra graduated IWU, the family stayed at our house in Bloomington. They told Carolyn we had a lovely house but needed servants; they had six plus a cook and a driver.
We sent Carolyn home from India. David and I continued on to Bangkok where we boarded a train for my introduction to Malaysia, with stays at Penang (which looked, I thought, like Hong Kong had in the 50s), and a now-defunct bungalow-hotel in Malacca that, with its expats at the bar by noon, could have been a setting for an early 20th century novel.
Thence to Singapore, Hong Kong and home.
It was the first of several memorable trips to East and South Asia with David.
In 1998, David accompanied me to the Asia Pacific Region Scout meeting. I talked my way into the US Delegation, stayed at the building HK Scouts built as combination headquarters, hotel, and office building. Dealing with multiple religions was a really different “religious” service, truly non denominational. The other highlight was a “potluck”, one of the best meals I’ve had at a Scout event. No mac and cheese or hot dogs. And since we were all adults, we could behave like adults. That is, there were adult beverages. I was in a group that included the head of Australian Scouting (a volunteer), Singapore, etc. Best fraternity party since 1962. Memories….then we left for Bangkok, Chiang Mai (I discovered Sibelius on a Japanese Symphony broadcast) and thence to Laos.
In retrospect, there were several benefits from the trip. One comes from the opportunity to meet with other faculty–not just from other colleges, but also from other disciplines–and from a range of schools. They ranged, too, from first time visitors to Asia to moderately experienced visitors to Asia. At every site visit–and there were three to four a day–our colleagues brought a variety of perspectives and diversity of questions to the table, insights not always readily apparent to a customer-focused marketer, or an income statement based accountant. Second, although perhaps the strongest feature of the trip, were the site visits, arranged through the guanxi of our hosts. Using business and alumni contacts, Professors Julian Gaspar and Lane Kelley got us into places that read like a who’s who of Asian business. In Tokyo, the embassy and Honda; in Seoul, the chaebols–Samsung, Daewoo, Hyundai, and Hanhwa; in Hong Kong, Motorola; IBM in Shenzhen; and the stock exchange and Nike in Bangkok. A third was the exposure to cultural sites. Some of that was built into the trip, such as a Kabuki dinner in Tokyo, and similar cultural experiences in Seoul, where the farmers’ dance reminds me of United Airlines and Korea (the power of advertising), and Bangkok; and we visited palaces in Seoul and ruins in Thailand.
In short, the FDIB trip had all the characteristics of a trip I would have designed, but lacked the contacts to do so–full days meeting real business people, with business cards and an address for further contacts, a blend of cultural and business, a range of countries, overall, an excellent introduction to the varieties of Asian businesses and civilizations. It had major curricular outcomes: Partly with the aid of contacts I made on the trip, I taught an Asian/Pacific business course at Illinois Wesleyan; we also used the FDIB contacts for our Asian business trip; and finally, I have continued to draw on the expertise (particularly yours) I encountered on the trip.