Fred Hoyt's Travels – Page 39 – Exploring International Business with Illinois Wesleyan's Fred Hoyt

Reflections on my first FDIB trip

FDIB–OR HOW WE SPENT PART OF OUR SUMMER VACATION IN ASIA

Frederick B. Hoyt, Illinois Wesleyan University
Gerald Olson, Illinois Wesleyan University

Some of my favorite memories of elementary school occurred annually after Labor Day, when an unprepared teacher would try to ease us back into school by asking us what we had done during our summer vacation. It was at that point that nostalgia and memories grew, replacing reality and expectations.

Thus, it is with warm feelings (at least on my part) that we share with you our experiences with the Faculty Development in International Business trip we took last May and June to Asia. Conducted jointly–and there’s a lesson in that–by Texas A & M with the University of Hawaii, the trip offered 20 faculty a smorgasbord of experiences in five countries–Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, Shenzhen in the People’s Republic of China, and Thailand. Notice that these countries span the spectrum from mature industrial power (Japan) to up and coming wannabes.

Faculty

One of the benefits of a trip of this nature 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. Believe me, you really get to know them in the course of two weeks where they can be your companions–sometimes your only other English-speakers–for 12-16 hours a day.

They ranged, too, from first time visitors to Asia to moderately experienced visitors to Asia. Professor Olson and I fell into the latter range, having been on, or led student trips. My area is marketing, but I have had a long-standing love affair with anything Chinese; I had not, however, been to Tokyo or Bangkok, nor done much in a business sense in Seoul (though I’d been there). Hence, one of my motivators in going on the trip was to broaden my knowledge of Asia beyond East Asia, and to deepen my understanding of business there. [Jer–your confessional spot]

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. There were also the long rides (no other adjective applies to transportation in Asia, whether it was a bus ride in Bangkok or an international flight across the Pacific), or meals, or free time, where conversation ranged from common concerns and complaints, to what did you think about what we saw today, to some discussions about possible joint ventures. Out of one such discussion came this paper, and several panels.

Site Visits

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 in Seoul, the chaebols–Samsung, Daewoo, Hyundai, and Hanhwa; in Hong Kong, Motorola; IBM in Shenzhen; and the stock exchange and Nike in Bangkok. These were medium level visits, and above, with opportunity for question and answer at some, and schmoozing opportunities at others.

Though, to my way of thinking, there were not enough visits to consumer goods and services producers (and given the nature of Asian businesses or my insatiable appetite for more marketing oriented stops, there probably could not have been enough). We have tried to arrange similar visits for trips we have led; hence, we know how difficult it is to make the necessary contacts, especially for the variety of companies we visited. At least one of the businesses-focused trips to China that I paid to go on was slightly above a shopping tour; visit the factory on your way to the factory outlet store. Seeing assembly lines, and talking with plant managers did, however, delight many members of our group, And I did learn a lot about factories, and machinery, and widgets.

Cultural Time

Although business tends to neglect the past, that is obviously much harder to do in Asia, where vestiges of Tang China still infuse the business civilizations of Korea and Tokyo. Partly, we suspect, in recognition of the persistence of the past, partly in recognition of the first-time visitors in our group, and maybe because businesses were closed on Sunday and frequently on Saturday, we visited 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. Some of the cultural experiences were on our own. During “free time”–early a.m. walks, Sundays, and some evenings–we could get out of the plush 5 star hotels where we were housed and rub shoulders with the rest of Asia, whether in the Polo and porn markets of Bangkok or the night markets of Hong Kong. I well remember a Star Ferry trip to one of the outlying islands in the still Crown Colony of Hong Kong, where I had an enjoyable fresh fish dinner; you need to be from the midwest, preferably a small town, to realize what a cultural shock that might be to meat and potatoes mentality types. Two other “cultural moments”–being in Thailand for the king’s 50th year celebrations, and being in Korea for its Memorial Day stand out.

Impressions/Vignettes

We had been to Asia before, and in fact, Professor Hoyt had just left students in Korea before joining the FDIB group in Honolulu and going back across the Pacific. But these were new countries, better business visits, or the passage of time–and the changes in Asia are no longer glacial in rapidity. Thus, there were additional reflections. Three (?) come readily to mind. First, we can no longer ignore the Asian economy because Asia is not just the future. Asia is now. The changes in the coastal cities of China in the seven years I’ve gone there are phenomenal; they went from the 1940s to the 1990s, from the jazz of the Sassoon House to the Hard Rock cafe–without many of the intervening steps. Not all that is good–the sun does not shine in many Asian cities, and even worse, McDonald’s and Karaoke threaten to undermine civilization as we know it. Yet the fact is obvious–the Asian economy has become a major player in the world economy. Japan already is, but Korea and China are there too. As I tell my students, English is being taught in the Chinese schools. How many of them are learning Chinese? It has become intertwined with our own–our trade deficit with the People’s Republic is larger than with Japan, and sure to grow after Hong Kong becomes a “Special Administrative Region”. However, what finally hit this trip is that Asia is now producing for the Asian market—not as a colonial economy producing for the triad!

Second, the attention to costs that dominates the business pages is not only globally caused; at least in part. it is a global concern. We were in the loveliest factory in Bangkok, which makes running shoes. More a pavilion than a “factory, “ It was certainly a sweat shop for Europeans in June. The manager, a non-perspiring young woman, told us the factory was having trouble competing in global markets because of the rising standard of living in Thailand. Wages were getting out of hand, she stated. How much is too much? $5 a day. Michael Jordan are you listening–Caterpillar employees, do you know that?

Finally, everyone familiar with Japan knows that Japan is the most expensive country in the world. If you have been there, you know that fresh fruit can be $25 a watermelon. It is not surprising that when the Japanese travel, they buy everything–golf courses, whole cities, hotels. The whole world is cheaper. Protectionism has helped make Japan competitive globally–at the expense of consumers. Everywhere I went in Japan, I asked about consumerism–does it exist. Knowledge about the outside world comes through clearly in Japan. Everyone said there is no consumer revolt, and indeed, the major topic of the political parties is the sex life of the emperor and empress–will they have an heir?

Then, one of our businessmen said something about the J. Crew catalog being available on the Web, and it hit me that this was consumerism at its finest–the creation of a truly global marketplace that is pull, rather than push oriented. But that’s another paper.

Summary/Conclusions

The FDIB trip had all the characteristics of a trip I would have designed–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. One outcome is curricular–we’re introducing an Asian/Pacific business course at Illinois Wesleyan next year. Another is that our trips to Asia will be using some of the contacts for site visits–particularly one outspoken Hong Kong woman who argued forcefully for cultural immersion for us and our students.

Finally, while we were glad to return home, Asia can be like the joke about Chinese food. An hour later, you want to go back. I guarantee that for many of the first time visitors to Asia on this trip, it will not be their last. I’m hungry for more, but the FDIB trip helped me know what to order.

the East is Red 1996

Shantung and Taishan 1996

I was (and still am) fascinated with Qingdao, and in May 1996, after leading a May Term, indulged that interest in touring the Shantung peninsula. It was my first trip in China on my own, which meant, essentially, going from town to town in a car with driver. The driver was Feng Hong, or “red wind”, a classic Cultural Revolution name. His English was confined to “Michael Jordan #1”, incontestably true for the greatest of all time. In fact, one of my fondest memories of Michael Jordan was watching a finals game in a yogwan in Korea (a room with a condom dispenser). The announcer (Taiwanese) watched Jordan float from the top of the key to the basket, and said, “Wow.” Not a Chinese word, but a universal description of MJ.

We went to Qingdao, Yantai (Chefoo), and Wei Hai Wei, three of the important treaty ports on the peninsula. I was surprised by how much of the colonial areas were still extant. Mornings in Qingdao definitely required joining in dancing the the squares in front of the Bavarian style Catholic Church.

I also remember asking Feng Hong to stop at one point so I could take pictures of a harvesting team of machinery that was the most mechanized agriculture I had ever seen in China.

One other stop was a gem: Qu’fu, the home of the Great Sage, Confucius. The main shrine was massive, a paean to the importance (reemphasized in contemporary China) of a philosopher who encouraged order and obedience. The Confucian exams for centuries defined winners and losers in the civil service, and remnants of the rote learning it required are still embedded in China’s educational system. Qu’fu was one of the few places in China I saw stars and heard birds (not in cages). It was tranquil, in other words.

The literal highlight of course was Tai Shan, one of the most sacred mountains in China. It’s where Mao said, “The East is Red,” but Confucius sagely remarked, “The Earth is small.” I stayed in a Chinese-speaking guesthouse. At an ungodly hour, the phone rang and a voice announced (my translation—get up and get dressed, daybreak is coming). There was a PLA topcoat in the closet to protect me from the mountain chill; I threw it on and joined the throngs there to watch the sun come up over China. You can see me in the pictures: I’m the one without the cigarette.

Subsequently, in mangled Chinese, I assured others I was from Shantung, which is why I talked and looked funny. Ironically, David’s wife’s family is from Shantung, and reached the US via Korea and Taiwan.

Yan’an 1996

reminiscences from 2024

I remember the professor from

Augustana who suggested a trip to Yan’an, which was where the Communists fled in the 1930s from their bases in the interior–Kiangsi, Fujian, Szechwan–driven on the Long March by pressures from Chiang Kai-shek. How could Augie do something we did not, that sounded attractive?

I took the May Term 1996 class there, accordingly. We left from Xi’an,

taking the long road through the loess landscape, still filled with troglodytes, though we could see the glare of TVs inside the caves. It was a long ride, but we stayed a few days in Yan’an, viewing the cave where Chairman Mao regaled Edgar Snow for Red Star Over China. As we had come to expect, the hardships of the 30s made for touristy opportunities for the 90s, including pictures in Red Army gear. Including one of Weidade Jiaoshou, the great teacher (one of Mao’s names for himself). I have pictures to prove we went elsewhere, such as Xi’an, Nanking, Shanghai, and Beijing, but the Yan’an visit remains the most vivid memory of the trip.

Non-Yan’an 1996

Reflections 2024

I hadn’t thought about it at the time, but this was the first May Term trip. The shift from January to May changed a number of things.

In some ways, it got harder to fill after 1995, when IWU overhauled its curriculum, requiring only 32 classes, and eliminating J-term. Student protests, however, led to a voluntary May Term, and the university put one of its most powerful leaders, Mona Gardner, in charge of it. Despite my fears that the May term would wither, partly because students could otherwise work that month, and partly because government funding got cut off, May term prospered, and as evidenced by the material in the blog, I enjoyed the opportunity to travel in May, with students, and after those trips without them. However, since class was no longer required for faculty or students. That meant a harder sell to attract students and some maneuvering to get to lead one of the trips, since it meant faculty taught fewer courses during the regular year. For me, I sometimes combined sections of classes to get the six, sometimes went as a co-leader, sometimes (to the annoyance of the administration), led a trip without it being part of my teaching responsibilities–i.e., taught for free. On occasion, I even (for the first JTerm) wound up paying for the trip myself.

I had also been a strong advocate for having two faculty on those trips, a cause abetted when an English professor had an accident and had no backup. That came to pass with May Term. I was consequently able to travel with Zhenhu Jin, Jerry Olson, Dave Willis, Jin Park, Tim Query, Ruth Ann Friedberg, Bill Walsh, Jim Sikora, and Ella Pana.

The co-leader for this trip was easy: Zhenhu Jin, a finance professor at IWU, who was born in Shanghai. We spent several years on trips to Asia and SE Asia. In 1997, I was on sabbatical, and my adventures are detailed elsewhere.

Nanking on the steps of the Sun Memorial

Obviously, May was warmer. That meant no pictures without vendors on the Great Wall. With Dr. Jin aboard, we changed the itinerary a little, looking at Shanghai, Nanking, North China (Xi’an and Yan’an), and Korea. One of our interesting site visits was a traditional Chinese hospital, where some of us sought acupuncture. And I got to visit Tuan and his wife, which was a treat for me. And our national guide, once

again, was Mr. Li. We also had (the only time) an alum who expressed interest and joined us.

The Korean part of the trip was memorable because one of our students found (most) of us lodging in a yogwan. A rich student lodged himself at a Western hotel. Ours was authentically, Korean, with mats on the floor and condom machines. It was during the NBA finals, and I watched as Michael Jordan soared with one of his dunks, starting at the free throw line, and the Taiwanese announcer went, “Wow.” Perhaps there was no other word to describe it, and certainly not one in Chinese.

And this was the group that had all the gun lighters confiscated!

Viet Nam Notes on a 1995

Shortly after Viet Nam and the United States resumed diplomatic relations (1995), De Paul University organized a conference to introduce foreigners to the country. The conference itself was in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh city) at the “floating hotel” which was moored in the Mekong ? River. The after conference was stunning: Danang, Hoi An (China Beach), Hue (what was left of the imperial capital) and Hanoi, without the embellishments the future would bring. These are notes I made at the time, and probably shared with the Asian Studies committee at IWU.

I. 1963: Bill Williams and John Kennedy (and Fred Hoyt wanting to learn about Asia)

II. Viet Nam in the 1960s and Fred Hoyt’s growth

, but was caught in the emotionalism of the made for TV series. Believed President (Fred as Cold warrior ala Kennedy)

III. The offer crossing my desk and the memories it conjured up.

IV. The conference
Paper available
Business opportunity of the future

V. Arrival (Aseana Airlines with Bing Crosby singing White Christmas; Beer Nuts as a snack. Tan Sen Hut airport still had the hangers for fighters I remembered from the news)

Viet Nam (some basic facts)

Long country–over 1000 miles from Saigon to Hanoi. All in the tropics. Hanoi roughly on parallel with Manila. Valetudinarian factors important.

Populous–over 72 million people. Most of them born since 1974. Over 2x size then. Hence, population is young and growing. Population control is nowhere near as extreme as in China, but govt is now encouraging 1-2 children at most. Could be a problem in near future.

Poor–average income less than 200$ US a year, but an awful lot of $2500 Hondas in the cities. Some of it may come from overseas Vietnamese, who are both retiring in Viet Nam and sending money back to relatives.

Government seems to be following the Chinese model of opening to the West–in a limited way and on well-defined terms. Non-Viet Namese managers on site all say the same thing: looks better from a distance than close up.

May benefit from brick walls around China and need to diversify portfolios: e.g., Taipei is encouraging Chinese investment in Viet Nam. Korea is eyeing, and of course, the French would like to return. Belief growing if you don’t someone else will.

Great potential for the smokestack industries to follow. Korea/Taipei/HK all getting too expensive to do the labor themselves.
Conclusions
Glad I went; gladder I was not there in the 60s

Certainly expanded my images of East Asia. Probably gave me a better idea of what China must have been like 15-20 years ago.

As a market for business, more attractive from a distance than close up.

For most Vietnamese, Imperialist Americans and their fascist allies is history, probably more than is true here.

I’d almost forgotten, but Carolyn and I parleyed this trip to visit Taiwan. Taiwan was then (as it wants to be now), the “real China.” The

purpose of visiting was to stay in the Palace Hotel, designed by Mme. Chiang Kai-shek and to see the treasures in the Palace Museum that Chiang Kai-shek took when he fled the Mainland. Magnificent. It was interesting to see the cult associated with Chiang and the Kuomintang, a slightly (!) different version than on the Mainland!

A major trip with Minor

Retrospective from 2024

I said I’d wanted to get back to China as often as I could. When an opportunity came up to attend the IAS workshop in Beijing, I was interested. When I approached Provost McNew, she stated she didn’t realize my desire, and had named my friend Mike Seeborg as the faculty member whose way would be paid. I said if I could get nominated, I’d pay part of my own way and seek additional grant funding, and that’s how I got to travel to China with Mike, Minor and Ellen Myers.

Minor was always a treat, whimsical if sometimes unfocused, with myriad interests that were always semi pursued. He was a sometimes collector of (fill in the missing blanks) and one of those interests was philatelic. When I purchased a passport of a British soldier who went from China back to England, with the appropriate stamps, I was so excited I had to show it to him. “That’s wonderful, Fred,” he exclaimed, looking over his glasses. “I think I have one just like it.” I never tried to trump him again.

The 1995 trip to Beijing started with a Minor Myers treat: a chauffeured limousine to O’Hare. Good start. I remember Minor pursued Liulichang with the enthusiasm of Carolyn in a chocolate shop, gushing over the antique “treasures” he had found, while his long suffering wife rolled her eyes. Ellen freaked out when we were served scorpions, but then, she thought Tokyo–where you can literally almost eat on the streets–was dirty.

When the conference was over, I talked Mike into a train ride to Qingdao, which looked fascinating. We were staying in the “guest house” which, to my great joy, turned out to be the former residence of the German Governor General, who had surrendered it to the Japanese after a siege in 1914. A sign on one of the rooms indicated Chairman Mao spent a month there, and I hoped in the future, Mike and I would get the same recognition. What I remember best was being introduced to a Lada, a Soviet bloc car we chartered for touring, and having to push it uphill. Mike, more familiar than I with Eastern Europe, was not surprised. Qingdao was another place that would draw me back several times, for its salubrious seaside, and its still extant German efforts to make it resemble someplace in Germany.

The Last J Term 1995

When I arrived at IWU in 1987, students had to take 35 course units (roughly the equivalent of a regular course elsewhere), except that each course unit equalled 4 hours elsewhere. Each faculty member taught 7 courses. A January term class provided students the opportunity to take at least the three additional courses needed for graduation, and could include an international (or domestic) trip in January. The trips were supported by federal loans. Faculty members were required to offer a January term class.

Up until 1994, I had edged my services marketing class into a 3 night stay at the Palmer House (as the students viewed it) or 4 days of site visits (as I viewed it) in Chicago. That trip included a performance by the Chicago Symphony or the Lyric Opera, a discussion with Information Resources Incorporated (an early data-mining company), the marketing director of the Art Institute, etc.

It was obvious to me, however, after my 1990 trip to China, that my “calling” was to take students overseas and share my background expertise and love of adventure with a January term class. What prevented that was that a member of the business department had a lock on the trip, and the chair insisted that (at the time), there could be only one business trip.

Fortunately for me, Dr. Kieh, chair of the (nonexistent) International Studies Department (nonexistent because it was cobbled together with faculty who had appointments in other departments, but taught an International Studies class) offered me the opportunity to develop a course on Trade and Diplomacy on the China Coast for International Studies credit. That was my 1994 segue into teaching a travel course for over 15 years at IWU. It started in China, but gradually expanded to East and Southeast Asia, to Europe, and in 2001, a trip around the world. Most were in business.

The two memories that stand out the most to me from this trip both involved Xiamen, one of my favorite cities in China. Known as Amoy in earlier days, it had, on the island of Kulangsu, the “other” International Settlement (other than Shanghai). With no cars, the island was pedestrian friendly, and still full of colonial remnants, including a well-deserved reputation for music. This trip, we managed to stay on the island, in what I thought was a wonderful old hotel, but which was so primitive that I feared I’d have to barricade the doors. It didn’t mollify the students that the Wall Street Journal staff was quartered in the same hotel–as a reward! A funny story afterwards: I called to order the Far Eastern Economic Review (I’m teaching an Asia Pacific freshman class on occasion), and I got talking with Ms. Li, who worked for the Wall Street Journal Bureau in Beijing. “Oh, you must know Jim Macgregor, head of the Bureau,” I suggested. “How do you know him?” “He headed the only other group at Gulangyu island when we were there several years ago.” “I was there–wait, I remember your students. They were the ones who whined!” Yes, IWU does have an international reputation!

The second memory was finding a shop that could make the impressive scrolls that hung on so many public meeting sights in China. I commissioned one that celebrated the last January Term and the Weidade Jiaoshou and his xiansheng who were on it. The banner used to hang in my office, and is now safely secured in my apartment.

I think this was also the year we stayed at the Palace Hotel in Shanghai, across from the more famous Sassoon House (now the Peace Hotel).

I believe it snowed in Shanghai this trip or the previous one, and a visit to Fudan University (the IWU of China, as was Yenching in Beijing) furnished my lesson to business students for several years. China was energy poor, and heat was limited south of the Yangtze River. Shanghai was south of the Yangtze, and so the school was unheated. We saw students in their down parkas in a study room, preparing for final exams. In later years, I would point out that their Chinese competitors took studying seriously. As Thomas Friedman pointed out, “They’re hungry for your jobs.”

Thanksgiving in Hong Kong

When I came back from my first trip to China in 1990, I was infected–the desire to return as often as possible, with and without students, had struck. Hence, when one of our alumni at the Chinese University of Hong Kong in Shatin told me about a conference over Thanksgiving 1993 (?), I HAD to go. Carolyn and I stayed in a faculty dorm overlooking the ocean in Shatin, and had a turkey dinner for Thanksgiving–along with a dragon dance! The conference explored some of the villages in Hong Kong that were distinctly different from the splash of Kowloon and Wanchai. Centuries different.

One highlight was high tea at the Peninsula, the old colonial hotel that was so posh the Japanese had commandeered it for their headquarters in 1942. While we were dressed up, it was more downscale than I had anticipated; the quartet played “Misty” rather than Schubert. I stopped at a tailor shop to get the first of my Harris Tweed jackets that were made for me and thus, fit. Suits and jackets, shirts and pants became regular additions to my wardrobe. Eventually, I had my “own tailor” (thanks to Ruth Ann) and my “own optician” in Hong Kong.

On the way home, I insisted we stop in Seoul and explore for a few days. We discovered Kalbi and other Korean dishes, the palaces, and more reasons to return when possible. As the blogs make clear, that happened.

A Foreword to International Travels with Fred 1990 to 2024 and beyond

Introduction to Fred Hoyt’s travel blog

Although I began the blog in 2008 as an effort to educate participants and their parents, as well as my Scout troop and family, not to mention jogging my memory from time to time….I wish I had started it in the beginning of my meanderings.

They started in 1989, when my son, David, was in Europe—for the third time. I mentioned to my wife that we had always wanted to go to Europe, but we had felt we couldn’t afford it—and we couldn’t afford it because we had been sending him. The logic escaped me.

A little later, she confessed that she had thought about it. The result? “I have tickets so we can join him in Paris for Christmas and New Year’s.”

“But I always go cross country skiing with my troop at that time,” I retorted.

“Which would you rather do?”

“Where should I send you the postcard from Eagle River?”

“You can take the exam as many times as you want until you get it right,” she offered. The third time I got it right.

Paris at Christmas. Midnight mass in Notre Dame, one of the most moving experiences of my life. Christmas 89 also marked the end of the evil empire. Our hotel was around the corner from the Rumanian embassy, and the anti-Ceausescu crowd besieged the embassy as we watched his fall and execution on the TV. It was exhilarating to see so many places we would read about or seen in picture books. It stoked my appetite for travel.

June 5, 1990 restricted access to the Square

There was a trip to China, through IWU, that followed in 1990. I was chosen with Tom Griffiths to accompany an ISU delegation as guests of the China Publication Bureau. The Bureau sent some employees each year to ISU, and in return hosted ISU (and IWU) faculty members. It was a dream come true. China–from Hong Kong to Guangzhou, Kunming, Shanghai, Xian and Beijing. My long-disused Chinese (3 years at the University of Illinois) returned. I visited places I’d not only read about, but written about in my dissertation. I imagined gunboats at Shanghai, kowtowing to the Emperor in the Forbidden City, or wreaking havoc at the old summer palace. An exotic atmosphere marked our trip from Kunming to Dali (home of the Bai nationality. The 11-hour bus ride with academics on the old

Burma Road was punctuated with verses of “Hello Dali,” and puns touting the best bais in Dali. By the end of the trip, I understood why the people I had written about in my dissertation, Americans in China and the Myth of the China Market, never wanted to come home. I did not either.

An epiphany took place a year or two later, as I sat and mused at the Florida Keys with my Scout troop. The leisure gave me an opportunity to ponder what it meant to be 50. I realized that I had better do what I wanted to do whenever I had the chance. It was as true at 20 as at 50, but I’m glad I had the impetus to seize whatever opportunities I had—and to make some I didn’t have. For the next twenty years, I traveled whenever I could. And it started to come down to at least 4 options, as you’ll see in the blogs in this book.

First, the January and then May term trips with Illinois Wesleyan students.

If you look closely, you can see Quemoy from Xiamen

Macau Where Caleb Cushing signed the unequal treaty with China in 1844

As I said, an opportunity to share my excitement and discovery with 10-25 students for two to three weeks, mixing business with history and culture. What excitement to visit the old foreign enclave in Xiamen, the international settlement at Kulangsu in Amoy, with classical music wafting from crumbling colonial structures, visiting various spots along the

John and I shared the honeymoon suite in Xiamen

Ross’ dad owned McD’s franchises in Gibson City

Great Wall, a vain effort to keep the barbarians at bay and to mark the end of the civilized world. We stayed in the Palace Hotel in the former Sasson Building, classic Art Deco of the 193os. The famed Jazz band was back, along with a restaurant on the top floor. When we went there for a meal, I spotted chopsticks with Peace Hotel markings. I was so excited I asked if I could buy a pair. The waiter said 25 yuan (or whatever), took my currency, and went to the next table. He picked up a pair and brought them back. The next 5 pairs were free, since I eliminated the middleman.

We went to Korea as well, and students were so broke they could not afford to go out of the hotel. However, I had played “Let’s make a deal” with one of our Korean students whose dad was a senior executive with Samsung. He provided us with a guide, a bus, and all the meals we desired, and we went to Panmunjom, Samsung, and the King Sejong grave (he invented the Korean alphabet).

The 1994 visits gradually spread to include other Asian countries, revealing the historical importance of China, and watching the rebirth of the dragon. In 2001—the last trip before 9/11—it was an ambitious venture around the world, via London to New Delhi, to Bangkok, Bali, Saigon, and Hong Kong. Many stops at the airport hotel in Bangkok, since most of the flights were on Thai air, and routed through the capital of Thailand. May added opportunities to extend the trips and go places I probably wouldn’t take students—such as Mongolia, Tibet, and parts of Eastern Europe.

Second, in my 40 years as Scoutmaster of Troop 19, Best You’ve Seen, a Normal (Illinois) troop that became close to Normal when it moved in 2021 to Bloomington, several of our high adventure trips spilled into excursions. In 1993, coming back from the last hundred miles on the Appalachian Trail in Maine, one of the boys suggested coming back through French Canada. Quebec and Montreal kindled thoughts of Europe—but also of New France, which included the one-time French fort (de Chartres) that marked early settlement in the Illinois Country, and where we had discovered the Rendezvous that provided November and June encampments that became a regular calendar commitment. We also went to the Bahamas sailing, and kayaking and glacial climbing in Alaska, with a blip into the Yukon territories, which yielded our only bear sighting. The Canadian jaunts increased my understanding of the French/British wars for North America. The Bahamas trips were my initial contact with the Caribbean.

The third source of my travels came courtesy of the US Government. In an effort to educate business people and faculty, the government funded several university outreaches. The Faculty Development in International Business afforded me opportunities to travel with other faculty to explore business and culture in foreign countries. I went on one early to China, Hong Kong, and Bangkok, and realized these would be good preparation for my student trips. The University provided initial funding through a grant, and the trips became addictive. When IWU curtailed my May terms, the FDIB trips to Cuba, Latin America, and Africa expanded my knowledge of international business.

Fourth, Carolyn had come on parts of trips with me, sometimes during and sometimes for extended trips afterwards. She was especially intrigued by a Baltic visit as a chaperone to the IWU choir. I promised instead that we would go cruising, and I kept my word. That began over a decade of trips, mostly Europe and the Mediterranean, which culminated in a land tour in March 2020, when Covid and we arrived at about the same time in Spain. She accompanied me on a number of business conference trips, including Viet Nam (shortly after it was opened to foreigners) , my 1997 sabbatical to India and Southeast Asia, New Zealand, and China/Korea.

The remainder of the blogs fall into one (or more) of these categories.