It has been a week of contrasts. This morning, as I stood in
a muddy field, 200 miles west of Shanghai, in a blisteringly cold wind I
couldn’t help but think back 4 days to the warm desert sunshine of Las Vegas.
This particular field is the site for Sembcorp’s visionary Nanjing
International Water Hub and I was there to attend the ground-breaking ceremony.
In 18 months’ time a magnificent building, shaped like a water droplet, will
play host to a thriving mass of water-related technology companies from around
the world. Today it was just cold and windy.
No launch event is complete without dancing girls. In Las
Vegas the girls are selected for their youth, beauty and ability to be nubile
in public. In Nanjing none of the girls were under 60 and there wasn’t an inch
of flesh on display (everyone was robed from head to toe in a spectacular
traditional Chinese costume of bright reds and yellows). Rather than an ability
to be nubile the dancers had been selected based on their ability to cheerfully
beat a drum or clash a cymbal. It is perhaps a mark of my increasing
middle-agedness but I found watching a team of elderly ladies joyfully prance
about fantastically enjoyable.
After a series of long speeches given by a seemingly endless
array of local dignitaries we eventually reached the event climax: the ground
breaking itself. Each of the dignitaries stood in a circle with a long golden
shovel. A countdown commenced and when it reached zero they dug into the ground
with mild frenzy as above them 2 tonnes of ticker-tape exploded into the air.
Trumpets blasted, gongs clashed, tickertape blew everywhere. It will be a
nightmare to clean up.
Last night at a celebratory pre-event banquet I found myself
sitting next to the Chairwoman and MD for the China International Capital
Corporation, one of the biggest and most powerful banks in the world. Faced
with someone of such seriousness I put on my best behaviour and resisted the
urge to simply stab the slippery dim sum with my chopstick (like wot I would at
home), or tell inappropriate if mildly amusing anecdotes. Our conversation was
staid but safe. That was until I asked how she and her colleagues in Beijing
felt about the recent rhetoric from US Presidential hopeful Donald Trump. This
was arguably the only time in the meal when she exhibited her real passion and
personality. She launched into a compelling and heartfelt essay into how Donald
Trump highlighted all that was wrong with democracy. How could someone of such
crass insensitivity and such obvious self-interest become a credible candidate
to lead a nation? It was, she felt, the ultimate vindication for why communism
was the better model. I sharpened my chopstick, reached for the dumplings and
decided it was time to tell that amusing story about my vasectomy.
I met her again this morning in the muddy field. She was
only wearing a thin dress so I removed my coat and offered it to her. She
thanked me politely but declined with a steely sense of dignity. She was from
Beijing she said. In Beijing they had proper cold weather. This was
nothing.
Like I say, it’s been a week of contrasts.
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