Doing business in Asia. A formidable undertaking by all accounts. It's a different business culture than what I know in the US. Priorities are different. Instead of our direct, win/lose approach, it's stuff like saving face, establishing harmony and avoiding conflict. But still winning. In Asia, its always about winning. I've read books on doing business in the region; attended cultural sensitivity lectures on such differences as: "yes" does not mean yes, it merely avoids embarrassment. And agreeing with you does not mean they agree with you, or even exactly understand. So when I decided it was time to make the jump into hard-nosed business negotiations I approached it with some trepidation. See, if I'm going to gallivant all over this island, off the beaten expat path and even out of the range of the world class MRT transit system, I'm gonna need a car. Not a new car, mind you. The sticker shock of new cars in Singapore had jerked me away from the notion of that new car smell like the leather-sourcing cow against an electric fence. I simply can not bring myself to pay upwards of $80,000 for a Honda Accord. No, I decided, a used car; about 2 years old with low miles. And I was pretty sure I could find a good used car for less than half the price of new which, in Singapore, is still more than a new car in the US. So I decided what we needed, did my research, and stepped into the abyss.
The process for leasing cars here is different from in the States, in that you can have a one-stop shopping experience right in the comfort of your own home. You simply call a dealer and tell him what you want. So I thought I'd give that a try. The first car that my car guy, Mr. Loh - a soft spoken Singaporean with an intense stare - brought to me wasn't exactly what I asked for but was as close as he could come to it. "Very popular," he warned in a whisper; "hard to find and it will go quickly." He came with a Chinese couple whom, I assumed, worked for him. Nice touch, I thought, not one but 3 people helping me out. Gotta love that Asian service mentality. But such was not the case. As I pulled away from the curb on my maiden Singapore test drive with both the man and woman in the car, I thought it was funny that she kept telling me from the back seat how nice the car was and how they loved it very much. Until I realized that they were the owners of the car, selling it on the open market. Good thing I didn't criticize it, or I think she would have broken down in tears. Turns out in Singapore if a dealer doesn't have the car you request they'll go out and find it. If you like what you see, the dealer will buy the car and lease it to you. Somewhere in there is a profit margin for the dealer, but after comparing prices between buying and leasing -- at least for used cars -- I couldn't find it. So it seemed that my soft-spoken Mr. Loh was just a middle man.
Well, I didn't take the car, but that didn't slow Mr. Loh down, and he swiftly appeared the next morning with exactly the right car, replete with a new, overzealous original owner. And having worked out the pricing before I even looked at it, with all costs transparent, he promised me that the only surprise would be how nice the car actually was.
So looked at it I did, and I drove it, and I liked it. I was ready to make the deal. And in an effort to establish a congenial, hands-across-the-continents, sense of harmony, I told him so. I would take the car, I said. That's when Mr. Loh announced he needed to "further prepare the car for me," which he said would take a few days. I eyed him suspiciously. Ah ha!, I thought, this is where the shenanigans begin. What was next next? Some hidden cost would emerge, right after he had hooked me and slowly reeled me in, dollar by dollar. But I had screwed up -- I told him I wanted the car. Amateur Expat Mistake #1.
Mr. Loh shook his head slightly and sucked through his teeth. Here it comes, I thought, ready to proclaim righteous indignation and storm through the door into my flat. He looked at me somberly and murmured, "There is just one slight problem..."
"And what might that be?" I snided, poised to pounce on the suddenly unscrupulous Mr. Loh. Asian business culture indeed, I almost blurted out.. We had worked it all out up front; just like you're supposed to do. I had made it clear to him: no tricks, no add-ons, no hidden expenses. Not even tax. And he promised. But maybe a promise isn't a promise in this business world. Isn't there something about "good karma" and "harmony" and all that when a Buddhist makes a promise? Where did that suddenly go?
"Your temporary car is not of the same brand." He said looking at his feet, avoiding eye contact. I looked at him and blinked. My temporary car? He never mentioned that. But I quickly regained my street smarts and glared, as if to say, And what will that set me back?
He reached out his hand, a set of keys dangling. "It has a full tank of petrol. But...it has cloth seats. I do apologise very much. I hope it will be acceptable for a few days."
And as I took my loaner for a spin to the Botanic Gardens and back, trying unsuccessfully to remember to stay on the left side of the road and dodge the signal-less cabbies, I realized that maybe I'm missing something here. Maybe Asian business culture, with all its differences from my Western senses, is not so different after all. See, the lower to the ground I get in Singapore, the more I like it. Away from the glitzy glare of global commercialism that this place is famous for, down at the the street level -- whether in a hawker center or wet market or riding in a cab -- people here are honest and fair. They give you a quality product or service for a fair price, without fanfare or dramatic haggling. Just a straight deal by good people. So from what I can see, that's how I would describe the Asian business culture. And it washes over me like a cooling breeze in this hot and humid tropical paradise.
Driving in Singapore can be a harrowing experience.
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