Da Ernie Tadla

Circa Lovy

Lovy ed io erano innamorati della High School e sono stati sposati per il forty-three anni prima della sua untimely morte. Aveva lavorato mightily e lo fatto passare attraverso l'università ed aveva contribuito ai depositi finanziari della nostra famiglia facente maturare. Questa avventura ha conceduto lei l'occasione lasciare essere un assistente dentale certificato e godere una vita completamente nuova ed alla Cina, che.

Lovy Catherine Edinger era il suo nome ufficiale di nascita. Il suo padre, Phil ha desiderato sempre una figlia con quel nome. Naturalmente, il suo nome ha ottenuto sempre l'attenzione. Immagini che sedendosi nella sedia del vostro dentista che riceve il vostro controllo normale ed il dentista dice al suo assistente, “Lovy, passa prego il tubo di aspirazione.„ Che pensieri passerebbero con la vostra mente? Sul lavoro, Lovy è stato denominato Lee.

Quando ad un partito o ad uno shopping in una folla, anziché me che denomino il suo nome fuori forte, abbiamo avuti una chiamata della firma, “hoo di Yoo„ quel ha risposto a, sapendo io stava cercandola.

Quando abbiamo venuto a contatto di nuova gente che ha reagito al suo nome, suggerirei che era il suo nome che era un fattore importante nella nostra unione di lunga durata, stabile e felice. In tutti i rapporti normali, ci sono periodi di rabbia e della frustrazione come era in il nostro. Lo ho trovato difficile a effettui il mio self-righteousness ed esponga quando la I, nella rabbia ha detto ad alta voce il suo nome, “Lovy, voi sempre ...... blah, blah„ che deve dire Lovy ha preso il vento dalle mie vele.

Si è immersa in Schang-Hai e nella coltura cinese. Lo ha sostenuto nella mia nuova posizione ed ha assistito a tutte le funzioni del cliente e dell'azienda con il suoi fascino e tolleranza consueti. Tutto la amava. Ha preso la pittura cinese di watercolor. When she completed a painting, she signed it Jade. She relished shopping and negotiating in the local markets. She loved everything Chinese: the city, the people, the goods, the customs, and the habits.One evening, after returning from the office around 8 p.m., I was doing my daily tirade: pacing back and forth, ranting about how stupid and backward they were. Lovy was always a good listener. Not this day. She put down the book she was reading and placed her hands carefully in her lap. There was calmness about her, as if she had been preparing for this moment. She had learned well the lessons that terminal kidney disease and a kidney from your son teaches. These were lessons of life and death. Now was the time to confront this loose cannon before her, yelping about the way the Chinese people were. This was time for some straight talk for and to her man.“It seems to me like you are getting ready to return home,” she said in an icy voice, blue eyes flashing.I stopped pacing, incredulous. “Return home? Why? This is a great opportunity, an exciting place, a wonderful job and company. What are you talking about?”

“I listen to you every day when you come home talking about how difficult it is to work with the Chinese.” Then, stabbing her finger into my face, she delivered the knockout punch:“Listen! These people have been here for five thousand years and they aren’t going to change for you any more than we changed for them when they came to Richmond. If you can’t understand and accept them, let’s pack up and go home now because I don’t want to listen to this every night for the next two years.”I stopped as if I had walked into a brick wall. No sympathizing, understanding, empathizing. No “There, there sweetheart. Yes, those Chinese are such terrible people and you are fighting such tremendous obstacles. Poor dear.” I was struck by the practical realism of her statements. I needed that jolt. It did the trick. It was my wake-up call. I will expand on this in my Lessons to follow.

She actually led the way because now she got involved with the people I was complaining about. She was going to demonstrate the Lovy way. At PPI, with the exception of my assistant, Vivian Sheng, and Ray Tao, the office manager, no one spoke English. The rest of the staff wanted to be able to communicate with Lovy and me. They asked the Chinese management if the company would provide English lessons. When Lovy found out, she volunteered to undertake the assignment, no charge. Without any experience or training, she was confident in herself and wanted to be of service to these wonderful people. They loved it.
They loved her.

One day, Ray Tao told me he had a teaching job for Lovy during the Chinese New Year Festival break in February. A former classmate was the head of a school in Turpan on the Old Silk Road way up in Northwestern China. Turpan, close to the Russian border, is in the heart of the Chinese oil fields and had a large school complex, which looks after the needs of the children of the oilfield workers, including the children of professional foreigners working there. Ray’s friend needed a native English teacher to teach the Chinese English teachers. When you learn English from a Chinese teacher, you speak Chinglish. You have the words right, but use the Chinese way of expression and phrasing. So, native English speakers are in demand as teachers regardless of their teaching credentials or experience.I told Ray that she couldn’t go because we had planned our annual trip back to Canada for the same Festival period. Ray said too bad, maybe next time. I never gave it another thought. Then, one evening, while having dinner on our balcony, I remembered and told Lovy. Lovy was a lovely, private, quiet, smart, sophisticated, lady. Her name was very apt. Always observing, always thinking, but never in center stage, where I like to be. We are so well suited for each other, balancing and complementing each other’s strengths. When the full impact of my casual comment hit her, did she ever step out of role.“You turned down an assignment for me?”“Well, yes, but you couldn’t make it because we’re going home to see the kids for our annual leave,” I replied, quivering a bit.“Excuse me, but I will be the one who decides where I will go and what I will do!” I started to suck wind and began defending my stupidity.
“But Lovy, do you know where Turpan is and what it takes to get there? Seven hours by plane, eleven hours by overnight train in the coldest time and spot in China?”

“I know cold weather. I was born in Saskatchewan, remember. We have lived in Alberta and Ontario. I can handle winter and cold weather. Just dress warm.”“Lovy, I cannot go with you, I am sorry, because I have some important business appointments in Vancouver.”“That’s fine. I will go by myself.”“Lovy, you are going up into the boonies of China. You have only one kidney. God only knows what kind of medical facilities and treatment they have up there!”“I am peeing just fine, thank you very much. I am going.
I will call Ray tomorrow.”

I went to Canada. She went to Turpan and had the experience of her life. Picture this. My Lovy, one kidney, no teaching certificate, boarded a plane alone in Shanghai for a seven-hour flight into the northern hinterland of China. She bought and took a heater with her. She was met at the airport in Urimuqi by a male stranger who traveled with her by train for another eleven hours, sharing a compartment as the train trundled along in the dark, cold Chinese winter night.

She arrived in a strange, cold place, and pulled off another of several feats of her life in China. She was feted by the community, wined and dined by dignitaries, civic and scholastic people, written about and photographed in the local paper. She was invited into their homes and experienced real, authentic Chinese families, homes and hospitality. The students, Chinese English teachers, loved her.

When she returned, her reputation grew and she was invited to teach English to Chinese staff in several multinational companies, doing one-on-one coaching with senior Chinese executives and children in a private school for wealthy parents. She couldn’t keep up and had to turn business away.

Through my involvement at AMCHAM, we had formed a circle of friends that constituted several couples, mostly American ex-pat men and their younger, successful Chinese wives. We met weekly for dinners and rotated weekend parties. The families had ayis (eye ee, a Chinese maid) who did the cooking and cleaning as the wives led busy lives in the international business community. Our friends were an eclectic group of outstanding, interesting, warm, friendly, happy people.

There was Irv Beiman and his wife, YongLing Sun, both with PhDs. They met in the U.S. YongLing persuaded Irv to come to China and start a business in Shanghai, the first management consulting company serving the U.S. business community. Hewitt Associates, the largest HR firm in the world, bought them out and they retired to Maui. But they missed the dynamic environment in Shanghai and returned a year later to start another flourishing firm providing strategic management systems consulting along with introducing the Balanced Scorecard concept to China.

There was Marjorie Woo, who was born in Taiwan, grew up in Shanghai, and was educated in the U.S. She had a successful track record with Xerox in the U.S., transferred to Shanghai and then started her own company, Keystone Leadership with a master franchise for all of China with LMI, a management leadership training firm. This was the same firm, whose SMI course I had taken 35 years earlier in Canada. I met Marjorie at the first Chamber Marketing Committee meeting I attended during my first week in Shanghai. Marjorie and Lovy became close friends. When Lovy knew she would die soon, she asked Marjorie to “keep an eye on me,” which she did. Lovy knew that I would be a basket case without her. She was right. That is partly why I married a Chinese lady seventeen months after her death.

There was Rick Foristel, China executive director for the Webster University MBA programs in China. Then, he was squiring around a revolving bevy of Chinese lovelies, but is now settled, and married to a Chinese senior executive with an American bank.

Keke was another rising star with Xerox who started her own consulting firm. Her husband, Tom, an Australian was a brilliant PhD with HP.

Ari was the GM of a global Dutch chemical company. His Chinese wife, Vivienne, was with the Swedish telecom company Eriksson.

Hugo was a Dutch international lawyer while his Korean wife, Rana, was a designer and art promoter.

All these people were active AMCHAM people: smart, hardworking, popular and recognized as leaders in the Shanghai American business community.

Whether it is was her Chinglish clients, my staff at PPI and DMG, our ex-pat friends or the young Chinese student from down the hall who exchanged English for Chinese lessons with her, Lovy was the magic that attracted the love, respect and admiration from all and the glue that held us all together. Of course, she was my strongest asset.When 9/11 occurred, the Americans were in a state of shock, pain and concern for their families and friends back home. The following day, I received a phone call from Marjorie asking if they could all meet at our apartment. Even though we were Canadians, they felt a sense of peace, quiet strength, love and harmony at the home that Lovy had created. They just wanted to meet, support each other, heal, and feel comforted in an atmosphere of peace and love. When they came, they also brought other close friends, who felt so lost and alone from this awesome shock. Such was the environment Lovy presented to our ex-pat friends and family.When Lovy passed on in March, 2002, we had a Celebration of Life for her in Cultus Lake, B.C., where she had bought a retirement home for us. Dan Mintz, who was busy in Los Angeles with the production of his feature movie, flew to Vancouver, drove to Chilliwack and spent several days with me and our family. He delivered a wonderful glimpse of his impressions of her complete with photographs of her, his staff, and us at PPI functions. Next week: Chapter Five: Church in the Park & Beggar on the Street.Ernie Tadla, www.odysseychina.net