Little Fish in a Big Chinese Pond

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My first experience with China came early in my career when I landed the opportunity to oversee a field trial on a Chinese owned and operated platform somewhere in Bohai Bay. I was so excited for this project. Not only had I never been to Asia before, I had just started studying Mandarin a few months earlier, so it would be a great chance to put it to use. I probably prepped for six months in advance; analyzing production data, ordering chemicals and equipment, coordinating dates with the customer and my local team. Finally, all was in order, and I jumped on a plane for Beijing. I remember arriving around midnight and sitting in the backseat of my driver’s car and just soaking everything in. I was in China; this mysterious, Communist party-led, emerging global superpower. It was by far the most foreign feeling I had ever experienced up until that point. I had no idea just then how many times I would find myself back in China over the next few years.

The next day, the country manager picked me up, and we drove down to the port city, Tanggu, just outside Tianjin. My first meal in China happened to be Tex-Mex. It was better than most of what I can find in Houston, so it was at that point that my appreciation of the Chinese talent for copying things was born. Later that night my colleague took me to watch a soccer match in the Asia Cup – China vs. Singapore, followed by a stop at a karaoke bar. Just before leaving, I made a pit-stop in the restroom, only to find the bathroom attendant begin to massage my shoulders while I was occupied at the urinal. Uncomfortable? Absolutely. But there would be many more similarly bizarre events during this trip.

Finally, it was time to head offshore. I was informed that no helicopters were available, so we would need to take the supply boat to the platform, which coincidentally, had not received a Western visitor in over 20 years. The eight hour trip out there was an absolute nightmare. The seas were so rough that everyone had to stay inside the cabin. The Chinese deserve their reputation for chain-smoking, and in this confined space, it quickly became a hotbox. Then the seas got even worse and the seemingly contagious vomiting began. It was so foul. The pungent odors of cigarette smoke and bile mixed with a heaving boat that began to take on water really made me question what I had gotten myself into.

Fortunately, we arrived at the platform safely and were hoisted off the boat by a crane. It was too late to begin work, so we just retired for the night. But this wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons. I was bunked up with 5 other Chinese guys in a tight room. We weren’t given mattresses, but rather a piece of plywood as a bunk and a cloth bag filled with uncooked rice for a pillow (I ended up with bruises on my hips and started using a hoodie as a pillow). There was no A/C, or ventilation, so the room had an ever-present layer of cigarette smoke at the ceiling. We had one small TV, but it only played Chinese war propaganda movies that celebrated the “success” of Mao’s Long March.

The following morning, I went to meet with the Operations Manager. He immediately informed me that they had just started a repair job on the well that I needed for my trial and that it wouldn’t be available for 40 days. Evidently, his onshore colleagues, with whom I was coordinating, neglected to get the platform’s approval for the trial at this particular time. I was furious, but this was my customer. I told him that I would just head back to the US on the next boat or chopper, and we would reschedule. That was going to be a problem, I was told. The weather was going to get worse, and no transportation would arrive for at least a week. I would have to stay.

I left his office and headed down to the canteen for breakfast. As I mentioned, no westerners came onto this platform, but the chef politely offered to make me something more familiar. I genuinely wanted to experience this trip as authentically as possible, so I thanked him and declined. Then I saw what was on the menu. Actually, I never knew what most of the dishes were (because I just stopped asking), but while the Chinese traditionally use most parts of the animal in their dishes, offshore they use absolutely EVERYTHING. I felt like each breakfast was like preparing for an episode of Fear Factor, as I wondered what delicacy besides diced pig ear salad would be concocted. I had to psyche myself up for whatever would be waiting for me, but there was no way I wanted to let my hosts see me buckle. And I knew they were watching and waiting for it.

I spent most of the next week exploring the platform and taking baseline data. The days (as they typically are offshore) were repetitive and fairly uneventful. In the evenings after our 6:00 dinner, we would play cards or ping pong. Occasionally, a basketball game would be televised, and fortunately for me, because of Yao Ming, the only team ever televised was the Houston Rockets. (A typical response from someone after I said I was from Texas: “oh, Texas…..do you know Yao Ming?”) Each night I’d sit in my bunk and make flashcards with all the new Mandarin words my colleagues were teaching me. I think they were as curious about me as I was about them. They asked all sorts of questions about life in the US. I had recently finished a biography on Mao Zedong, so they were impressed by my knowledge of the Communist party. I think so much so, that they mistook it for real interest. One night, a card-carrying member asked if I wanted him to swear me in to the Party. I told him I didn’t think that was the best souvenir to bring back to the States. Most of the guys also had English names, like James, Ethan, and Simon. They wanted to give me a Chinese name, so I ended up being called Zhan Nu Wan; a name that I’m still occasionally called today.

I also made a life-long friend out there, and eventually through our friendship, found a flower-girl in his daughter who still refers to me “meiguo shushu” or “American uncle”. Back then, as well as now to a large extent, an American coming in with interest in their country was enough to break the cultural walls. I look back at this first trip with a lot of borderline ridiculous memories, but it was also a very formative stage for what was going to be a continued relationship with China and her people, both personally and professionally. For that, I feel very fortunate.

Anyways, back to the story....finally, the weather died down, and we were able head back to Beijing. As luck would have it, I couldn’t get a cheap flight out for almost a week, so I enjoyed a work-sponsored, unplanned vacation in the capital city. But, all that is for another story, and if you actually read down this far, I applaud.

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Comments

[Steve W.]

Your adventures
Jimmy, what experiences you have. Love reading about them.

[JamesDonovan]

Thanks, Steve!
It's been kind of nice thinking back through them. I'm glad you like the posts