Reflecting on this year, one of the most significant events in the business world was the news that Facebook was going public. On the day of the initial public offering, CEO Mark Zuckerberg showed up on Wall Street wearing a hooded sweatshirt, a far cry from the room full of suits he was speaking to. Some took it  as a sign of disrespect. Others came to his defense, saying that he was just being himself.

Zuckerberg’s fashion choice on that day was another symbolic representation of the differences between East and West within the US. The East Coast is the Old Guard: Suits, suits and more suits. Boston, New York, DC…it doesn’t matter. Business attire is business attire, and people fall in line.

The West Coast, on the other hand, has a very strong entrepreneurial culture. A quick look at some of the world’s most successful “new” companies in the past two decades—Google, Yahoo, eBay, Apple, Microsoft, Amazon and of course Facebook—shows that they all call the West Coast home. (Granted, Facebook started in Boston, but since it has been a corporation it has been in the Silicon Valley).

When you go to work for someone else, you submit to their corporate culture. But when you create your own business, you call the shots. Walk through the offices of any of those companies above, and it’s clear that these companies (with the debatable of Microsoft) were built by a new breed of entrepreneur.

The concept of wearing shorts to work in offices featuring bright green or yellow or orange walls is foreign to most on the East Coast, but commonplace in the West. And in his choice of hoodie for his big wall street debut, Zuckerberg stayed true to that, for better or worse.

Zuck’s hoodie demonstrates the West Coast business culture (image credit: Eduardo Munoz/Reuters)

When you’re in China, especially if it is for business, you are likely to find yourself in a Chinese drinking session. These six tips below should help you understand what you got yourself into, and how to get yourself out of it. If you just happen to be drinking with a few Chinese people, the below won’t apply–this is for the hardcore Chinese Chinese drinking sessions that often accompany business outings, and some other social types of gatherings. Study up!

1.  Learn the Lingo:  Toasts are common in China. No matter what you’re drinking (which is likely to be a kind of Chinese rice liquor called baijiu), you’ll have toasts–known as ganbei–and you’d better comply for fear of being distrusted (or laughed at). In case you’re wondering, the word ganbei translates to “drying the cup.”
2. Take the Lead:  If you really want to score some points with your Chinese counterparts, don’t just accept their toasts–toast them back as well. This applies especially well to those who may be above you on the totem pole. This art of “respectfully suggesting a drink” is known as jing jiu.
3. Use Two Hands:  If you ever played baseball, your coach surely hounded you to catch the ball with two hands. That rule is surprisingly versatile, as in China it is considered respectful and polite to take your drink with two hands (one on the bottom propping the cup), and then slightly tipping the cup towards your colleague upon finish to show that you’ve emptied your glass.
4. Say Cheers!:  As in most places, it is common in China to knock glasses together while offering your cheers. When you do this, you should make sure your glass is lower than theirs, particularly if they outrank you. If you are about equal, you may find it funny when both of your glasses lower basically to the height of the table. If the group is large, it is common to tap your glass on the tabletop.
5. Hold Your Own:  There is nothing wrong with getting drunk, even during business dinners. It’s actually expected, as by being completely sober upon your departure, your hosts may feel as though they failed in showing you a good time. If you’re an obvious foreigner, they will probably think you can drink more. Given that the Chinese are big on handling their liquor, as a badge of honor of sorts, you’ll probably be stuck having to down whatever you’re handed. There is a funny term in China–jiudan–that translates roughly to drink courage. Make sure you train up on yours, and hopefully your ability to hold your liquor will carry you through. You may need an exceptionally strong brand of jiudan if you aren’t used to the Chinese liquors, which can be very strong and bitter. 
6. Know How to Say When:  There are a few tips if you aren’t really on top of your game to help you save face. First, when it comes to saying cheers, you may not have to toast everyone individually. It is common to toast two or three people at a time, which will save you a few shots of liquor. Also, if you actually clink glasses with someone, it is understood that you will down your drink immediately, like a “bottoms up” decree. If you’d rather drink more slowly, you can try your skill at touching the other person’s glass with the back of your finger (as long as they are not a senior to you), which is a signal that you would like to slow down a bit. It may not work, but worth a shot. Next, drinking and driving is to be avoided. If you’re driving, you may be able to use that as an excuse to slow down your consumption. If you’re female, that may be a good enough excuse as well–woman are not subject to the same drinking pressure that men typically are, particularly in a business setting. I have seen instances of people just declaring that they don’t drink, which may be looked at suspiciously but ultimately accepted. If you’re going to do this, though, make sure you aren’t caught with a beer! But as drinkers around the world know, the safest way to maintain your control is to fill your belly–with food! Food in China, especially at banquets, is abundant and fatty. Use that to your advantage–the more you eat, the more jiudan you’ll miraculously discover.

Being from a developed Western country, HIV and AIDS has generated enough buzz over the past two decades—for me, since Magic Johnson revealed his infection—to become a reality we are well aware of.  Still, it is understandably an extremely uncomfortable topic for most of us, and fortunately because of the education and preventive measures widely available, it has never exploded to the point where every one of us is close with someone who is infected.

Maybe that’s why I was shocked to learn that more than 10 percent of the South African population is HIV positive.

I had heard before about the problems that many African nations have had with AIDS.  But my clouded vision imagined an epidemic that was only running through uneducated, disconnected rural tribes, lacking modern means of communication and modern societal infrastructures.  But when you land in Johannesburg, it feels no different from landing in any populated and expansive city in America—with modern glass buildings, bustling expressways and neat housing sub-divisions all around.  I guess it is this contrast from what I expected that really made me take notice.

Ten percent.  Imagine that proportion in your workplace, or on your athletic teams.  Imagine it in your apartment complex, or in your own extended family.  And South Africa is a modern, middle-income, industrial society, with parts that don’t feel any different from Kansas or California.  With the mere mention of HIV or AIDS being such a jaw-dropping conversation-stopper in America, it really makes you think.  How does that impact a typical night of alcohol-enhanced fun for an immature university student?  Or even the trust level of committed couples?

I was even more shocked to learn that as recently as 2008, the country had a Minister of Health that that endorsed lemon, garlic and beetroot as the cure for AIDS, and even attempted to stop the distribution of antiretroviral medicines in the country.  As recently as two-thousand-and-eight!  Fortunately, South Africa’s leadership has finally recognized the reality of AIDS prevention and offered some genuine leadership in providing education to contain the epidemic, but the whole situation in general is something that really makes you think, especially if you’ve been to South Africa and experienced the present-day culture.

A night out in Cape Town

It is of little wonder, that old stereotype about the French having a general disdain for Americans, when you consider that for years we simply cannot, will not, and have not even attempted to pronounce even their name correctly.  How would you feel if you were a young Chopin, cooking up masterpieces on the keys, and people butchered your name like a sous chef chopping vegetables?  Or keeping on that composer theme, a young Samuel Scheidt?  I won’t even go there.

Say it with me, my peeps: Fraaaaaahhhnce.

France is sexy.  Maybe you have to feel sexy before your American-trained tongue can say it right…so set that ambience.  It’s just a little nuance.  No need for a séance, you just have to mentally go to France!  So say it with me…Fraaaaaahhhhhnce.  We can write it in whatever fonts you like.  Get it wrong and be ready for some serious taunts.

I hope you didn’t say “Freance”, or I won’t give you another chance.  Go to a discotheque in Oberkampt and you’ll see a bunch of rhythmically-challenged Frenchmen dancing like they have ants in their pants, not a pretty sight.  So why should it rhyme?  When in France, there’s no need for pants at all—we’re going for sexy, remember?

So just remember….ambience.  Get a positive response…

Fraaaaaaaaahhhnce. 

Fraaaaaaaanhhce.

Fraaaaaaahnce.

Fraaaahnce.

Fraaance.

France.

Let’s go!

This wasn’t my initial descent, and wasn’t even a descent, but instead a land crossing. I had been to Vancouver several times prior to this visit, but I had to share this experience, as it was my first time to encounter any trouble whatsoever with Canadian border authorities.

Driving from Seattle (which can often be the cheapest way of getting to and around in Vancouver if you’re counting), I usually cross the border at Peace Arch along US Interstate 5. Today, however, I listened to the wait times, and heard that it was backed up. So I tried the alternate crossing along State Route 543, just a few miles from Peach Arch. While I’m often heading into Vancouver solo, this time I had company in the form of my friend and snowboarding buddy, Shaun.

The line of cars wasn’t long, but when we got to the front, we were asked to pull aside and step out of the car. For a moment I thought it may have been a race thing, given Shaun’s long, dangling dreadlocks and the dearth of black people in this part of the world. But then I considered how truly diverse Vancouver is (for races other than black—though this is changing), and figured that couldn’t be the case. We were taken into a waiting room, and left for what felt like hours without being given any information. Then Shaun was called into a back room, taken for questioning, only to come out 15 minutes later with a clearance for us to proceed along our way.

Wondering what the hell had just happened during a routine border crossing I had made countless times before, Shaun explained that about 6 years ago, he had a misdemeanor marijuana possession charge on his record in the U.S. That basically means he was found carrying marijuana without any intent to distribute, and only in a quantity that one person could use. And it was 6 years ago!! Further, he was issued a warning that if something like that happened again, he wouldn’t be allowed to return.

Apparently, this was enough to trip Canada’s border authorities, which I found incredibly hypocritical given the fact that individual marijuana possession is legal in the state we had just physically crossed over from (Washington), and given my awareness of Vancouver’s relaxed attitude towards the drug. While it is not technically legal, most Vancouverites I know engage in some healthy smoking from time to time, and there are even cafes that allow it in public. As long as there isn’t distribution involved or some widespread disturbance, law enforcement tends to bat a blind eye.

Myself & Shaun celebrating our admittance into BC

So regardless of what your transgression is, just be aware that you may have some issues crossing the border into Canada if this applies to you! And it may be completely shocking and surprising to you as well, all the more so once you understand how generally tolerant the average Canadian is!

These people obviously didn’t have to cross the border in Blaine

I’ve always thought Australians sucked….and guess what I saw as verification on the bus to Melbourne Airport the other day? Why, you guessed it!  The Biggest Lollie Shop in the World!  (Yes, they call them “lollies” and no, I don’t actually think Australians suck—it was a joke, folks!).

This is surely one of the more unique shops I’ve ever tripped across, though…and a wonderful reason to visit the great, quirky, fun city of  Melbourne! (Actually, it’s located in the suburb of Tullamarine, but who’s counting?)

The shop itself, as you may be able to imagine, is basically a mecca of all types of candy, featuring a huge variety of lollies, chocolates, and other sugary sensations. A full kilo of lollies will set you back about $5 AUD, at least if you’re willing to settle for the house brand. Don’t forget to check out the chocolate covered fruits and candies, as well as the ample selection of party favors!

There is a joke in Argentina—New Yorkers are proud while Argentinians are humble. This is because while New Yorkers are always looking up, presumably at the buildings surrounding them, Argentinians are always looking down.  Why?

Pardon my crassness, but no discussion of Argentina can be complete without bringing the dog poop that is firmly entrenched as sidewalk decor all over the capital, as well as Argentina’s other cities.  So, if you want to be Porteño for a day, it’s okay to dream big, but keep your head down! I don’t post this to be, umm, foul…just conveying a fact of daily life in the streets (and sidewalks) of this canine-friendly place.

See some of the different styles below…I just wonder, are these pups the culprits?

“So Small Could Fool You…”

“Fresh Brew…”

“Lump Sum…”

“Spacey Special…”

“Dragged Out…”

And last, but certainly not least (disgusting), the “Already on My Floor at Home…”

I had heard a lot about Dubai before I landed here for the first time. I had heard about the architecture, with buildings like the Burj al Arab being the talk of the architectural world. I had heard about the parties, with the hotels here housing some of the regions hottest and trendiest clubs. I had heard about the international nature, with expats living and working here from all corners of the world.

Dubai’s Gold Souq

One thing that was conspicuously absent from my preconceptions was any mention of anything actual traditionally Arabic. Any semblance to what the culture here was like before the 21^st century—I mean, surely this place existed before 1995, didn’t it?

After a few days here, I realized that it was exactly what I had expected. Until I had the good fortune of stumbling across the Gold Souq in Deira. I had no desire to buy anything—most of the 300-some stalls here are selling jewelry mixed in with the occasional typical souvenir shop selling magnets and t-shirts graced with smiling camels. But walking through the halls of this semi-open air market made me feel, for the first time, that I was really in the Middle East. Of course I hadn’t been here before, but this made my mind flash back to ancient times, when Dubai was simply a trading village leveraging its strategic central location and proximity to waterways.

Dubai’s Gold Souq

Speaking of which, after making my way out of the Souq, I made my way to the water taxi to cross Dubai Creek. And that happened to be the perfect compliment to a stroll through the Souq, until I got to the other side and was met with glowing skyscrapers and whisked back into modern-day Dubai.

Water taxi across Dubai Creek

My ID:  3:34pm, Tuesday, 22 March 2005:  Narita Airport

United Airlines Flight UA837 from San Francisco

While it goes without saying that most first-timers to Japan arrive through the Narita gateway, my first true experience with Japan was, quite literally, at Narita Airport.  The destination of my first trip to Asia was the Philippines, via Singapore, and my flight from the US touched down first in Tokyo.  I’m not counting the hour I spent around Gate 54 as my first foray into Japan, but it just so happens that I had the reverse route back, six days later.  This time, my incoming flight from Singapore left about a three hour window before I had to depart back to SFO.

Being the rookie traveler that I was at the time, I decided that instead of eating the same dried out sandwich and Pocky pack I had at Gate 54 earlier that week, I would stand in line at immigration to get my passport stamped.  I had my fancy Narita Immigration sticker 30 minutes later, and stepped outside to breathe Japanese air for the first time—in the Narita parking lot.  After a 15-minute tour of Narita’s long-term parking and train station, I thought better of my inkling to leave the airport, and went back to the gate for my flight…but not until I had experienced Japan for the first time!

My ID:  Train 4:32pm, Friday, 07 June 2002; Stazione Milano Centrale

Milano Centrale, home of MyID into Italy

My Initial Descent into Italy came via the rails, arriving into Milano Centrale after a night’s journey from Munich. Along the way, as the Alps bore down upon me like an intimidating older brother, I saw in the distance countless waterfalls so rugged that man dare not attempt approach. Cutting river valleys that housed rocky streams, and huge mountainside cliffs with trees above. Only water, strong enough to hold the ships of the sea and brave enough to tumble the likes of Niagara and Victoria, could experience these places up close. The Alp lakes were stunning, scattered with islands and vast waterways resting peacefully in the mountains’ pocket.

While I enjoyed my first day walking around Milano, the next few days heading further south in Italy left me with a few impressions, some of which I have subsequently discounted and others with I still hold true today:

• Rome has a lot of bad smells in it!
• I’ve even seen little kids smoking here; everyone smokes!
• Road rules don’t seem to apply to scooters—they are everywhere and do whatever they want!
• Every building has elaborate designs sculpted into it—outside and inside.
• Italian guys are so forward, aggressive and (if you’re a male) unfriendly. Could the stereotypes be true?
• Italian guys wear really, really tight jeans.
• The concept of air conditioning has no meaning in Italy.
• The shoes people wear here look like bowling shoes.
• Many people here have small, prissy dogs…..not the big dogs I’m used to!
• There is no hospitality here. Business owners are rude, and nothing is complimentary.

Over the next several weeks, my impression grew to be that of a stark difference between the North and South of Italy. The further north I got, the more comfortable I felt. This was shaped by a few experiences, such as seeing a brawl break out in a stairwell at Naples’ Central Station within minutes of my arrival there, and some of the shady characters I shared train compartments with in the south.

(Note: Please do not get upset, my Italian friends—this was all taken directly from a journal I kept the first time I was in Italy, and “MyID” is supposed to be an unfiltered, unedited account of first impressions! I know now these aren’t all true :).