The Potato Harvest (Part 2)

Here is the transcript from a recent "chat session" I had with our HR Leader:

Quyen: Hi Anthony, i want to talk to you about the stretch assignment

Anthony: hi. ok. i'm at the airpor t about to board my flight but i'm ok to chat for for a few minutes though

Quyen: thanks, it is about the stretch assignment on marketing. i need you to supervise our emerging leaders to work on it

Anthony: what do you need me to do? are there guidelines?

Quyen: i sent a note to you all on 11 Dec

Anthony: yes I read this. but are there specific guidelines?

Quyen: you could appoint a team leader

Anthony: do we have a ppt presentation or something which outlines what the initiative is all about? what are the desired outcomes?

Quyen: yes, the outcomes would be marketing activities to promote services

Quyen: there is no specific guidelines

Anthony: what are the goals of this assignment? How will we know if we have achieved it or not?

Quyen: marketing activities to promote services.

Anthony: is there more info than this?

Quyen: it is like a small project

Anthony: so in terms of a goal ... you know the SMART principle to goals right? a goal needs to to be Specific, Measurable, Achievable etc ...? what are the specifics of this assignment and how would we measure (or even know) if it was achieved?

Quyen: let me know if you could manage your time to supervise the team

Anthony: yes. i can manage my time. the only thing missing is the guidelines. is this a global initiative?

Quyen: yes. just treat it like a small project. about marketing.

Anthony: ok. thanks for clarifying it.

Quyen: you're welcome [smiley face]

Anthony: we can talk more tomorrow as i'm about to board a flight

Quyen: thanks anthony. this sounds great. [smiley face]

I'm fucked.

Word of the Day

Today's was particularly good.

Word: "Tiger's Wife Mad'

The act of being so angry at someone that you find the item they cherish most and beat them with it.

Chris was so Tiger's Wife Mad at Joe that he grabbed Joe's Wii remote and beat him with it.

It doesn't even bother using her name. She's just (and only) Tiger's Wife. And Mad.

There's No R In Hanoi

Socially speaking, R is a very open person. He will unblinkingly recount stories or situations that would put most of us to shame. He doesn't mind people knowing anything, really. It extends well beyond A-said-B-to-E and into vignettes of personal grooming, sexual pecadillos or belittling awkwardness.

I don't even like people knowing that I went to the shop ... "I saw you up the road yesterday getting some milk, I think it was milk." will fill me with dread.

Not R, though. He can be told: "I saw this girl keep rejecting you last night when you were really drunk and tried to talk to her like 4 or 5 times until she hit you across the face." ... and he will be all like: "Oh yeah - that was really embarrassing, wasn't it? Great night though."

On the flip side, this trait is not so good for him in a corporate world where loose lips sink ships.

That’s why I couldn’t tell R about this blog. I was busting to share it with him because he’s been living here and knows the people and the culture. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take any risks.

There is a risk that he would accidentally mention the blog when he was pissed. Something simple like "Oh yeah- that was on your blog" ... or leave the page open on his desk in the office. Granted, these are very small risks for me, but they are not ones I can take in this culture. Some of my opinions could have me fired or deported. At best, I would be marginalized. Although I think I'm already living the best.

So rather than take tiny risks with big consequences, I couldn't tell him.

This also means that all my visitors to Hanoi get a briefing: don't mention the blog. I may as well be living in Brazil with a German surname.

In the interest of full transparency – or at least translucency – I told R that until he had “tackled” the issue of his open mouth (no, Ben, not in that way), there were a few things I was unable to tell him about myself. I'm sure he was expecting something salacious, much like the things he left me to discover when I cleaned out his apartment, so this will probably come as a disappointment.

But yesterday R finished his contract and left Vietnam: probably for good. We had a final meeting to reflect on his performance and experience over the past 8 months. It was also an excuse for me to get some one-on-one time and give him a few gifts during the final frenzied departure actions.

The first present I gave R was a wincing ceramic doll on all fours. It's an inside joke. A kind of inside joke befitting of toddlers. Toddlers with bad parents. The second was a few books which have either changed my life, or my mood, or both. The third was the address of this blog.

This last presentation went something like this:

Me: "So what are you going to do in the next few months?"

R: "A few things. I’d really like to take some time out to maybe write down some memories of this trip. It’s been hard work but really memorable and there are many things I don’t want to forget about Vietnam."

Me: "Well on that subject, I’ve actually got one more gift for you."

R: "I think you’ve given me enough, Anthony. I'm not going to help you with your shirt."

Me: "No. Remember when I told you there was something I couldn’t trust you with because you were a bit of a loose cannon?"

R: "Yeah. Of course I do."

Me: "Well I’ve been keeping a blog. Just writing about the occasional thing that happens here. You have the occasional mention in it as well. I didn't want you to know because I've written things about work that could get me in trouble."

R: "Are you kidding? Really?"

Me: "Yes. I couldn’t tell you because I couldn’t risk some of the things come out that I say about work people. But you are mentioned only as 'R'. So my final gift to you is to tell you what the web address is, and to hope that you read and enjoy it."

R: "Wow. Thanks. Does that mean you trust me now?"

Me: "No. I just means that you’re leaving Hanoi and no longer pose a risk. You’re still untrustworthy."

R: [laughs] "Oh. OK. Thanks."

Me: "I mean it though."

R: "Yes. Yes I know."

He was pretty touched. So I asked where my gifts were. I had already scanned the room, discretely searching for swatches of wrapping paper hidden behind columns or under tables.

"So where's my present then?" I finally asked him. R stopped feeling touched and started being awkward, which as good as a gift to me.

The second gift I procured from him was permission to write about a couple of things he’s been up to whilst in Vietnam. He complied readily, not out of willingness but out of empty handed guilt.

So now R has gone. I’m glad I kept this secret, though. But he has been a significant part of my Hanoi trip to date and can hopefully relate to the stories on his own level. It would be fun to read them in restrospect. I’m also a bit sad though; but that will pass. Like an ill wind. Bad R. Bad everyone.

The Potato Harvest

This email just landed in my Inbox. It's from the head of HR.

"Dear Huong, Kien, Hung, and Thanh

"As anh Tam say, the next one year ahead of you will not only be excitement, pride and joy, but will aslo be hard work, going extra miles, and very strong will power. I am sure though your sweat will harvest you great crop.

She's certainly strong out of the blocks; I'll give her that. But I have my reservations. This quote is clearly a fake. anh Tam is our CEO and he does not use such stirring words. Never. He also does not even have any farming experience. Piracy is rampant in Vietnam and emails from HR Leaders are no exception.

"The next step in our LIV programme is working in teams on stretch assignments. These stretch assignments are real business challenges we are facing in our company. Your task is to analyse the problem, identify the issues, develop an actionable execution plan and follow up on the actions.

The next step? The next step after what? You haven't told us the first step. What was the first step? Are you talking about the harvest? Is the harvest the first step? What does all this mean?

And what is an LIV programme?

Look at the difference in grammar, structure, style and pace between the first paragraph and the second.

It's a completely different author.

This paragraph was obviously air-lifted out of some PowerPoint presentation during some emergency operation.

Things start to crystallise in my head. It's starting to make sense. The LIV Programme is part of some global initiative, mandated by HQ in the US. Hang on though. American's spell it like "program" and in our company most of the Australians have given up. All of the non-English countries write Program. It's a very common word in my company. Only the English have remained stubborn enough to use the "correct" spelling, unless they have lived in the US for a while and it's beaten out of them. I think the email has still been issued out of the US, but it was by a recently-arrived English person. This is her first initiative since being posted to HQ in a Global role. This was written by an English person. It's a woman because it's HR. Also because English men don't get as many global roles in our company as women; probably because they are more stubborn about adjusting to new cultures.

I start to get distracted. "I wonder if she's going back home for Xmas?", I ask myself. I wonder whether anyone invited her to a Thanksgiving dinner. I'll bet her hair is really dry, maybe because she has not found the right conditioner in the US but probably because she just doesn't care enough. She takes shortcuts in the shower and doesn't leave it in.

She must have told Vietnam months ago on a conference call that it needed to initiate a local version of her LIV Initiative. It's a but like the Idol franchise, except that every judge is mean.

Our HR Leader still doesn't know what the LIV programme is, though. No one does. She does know that it the English woman has started putting it into her fortnightly Status Report and she needs to demonstrate that Vietnam is making progress.

The final warning from HQ would have come via a machine generated email. Our HR Leader would have still read it with alarm and called an emergency meeting with her team to walk them through the Global LIV Initiative Presentation Deck.

Her team would have sat around a large table. No one would be paying any attention to the presentation, except for the secretary assigned to take minutes. The others would be doing emails on their laptops or sending sms's on Blackberries. This is completely acceptable behaviour in Vietnam. I once a presentation in our boardroom to about 25 people around the table, and all of them were typing on their laptop. No one even bothered wasting time to feign interest.

I'm sure the above sentence is the intro to some very important and relevant Global HR initiative which aims to develop talented people within our organisation. Taken out of context, as it is in this email, it makes no fucking sense at all.

"I am happy to advise you that your team: Huong of Marketing, Kien of Technology, Hung of Sales, and Thanh of MIS, is assigned the following project, which is really a very practical issue for us to solve:

Given the nature of these loose instructions, I feel sorry for Huong, et al. Not too sorry because I don't know these people. On the whole though, I am relieved that I'm not part of the team and hoping it stays that way.

Anyway though ... what is this "practical issue" she speaks of?

"Marketing strategy/programmes to effectively promote services in Vietnam market"

This of course makes no sense. It's English, sure, but not as I know it.

It is not a practical issue. It is a broad, sweeping statement. It could pretty much describe the challenges of any current (or potential) company in Vietnam.

"This challenge is raised by Khue. You might want to ask her for further clarification if needed.

Ahh. Got it. Here's what happened.

At the end of the emergency meeting, our Leader asked some questions to the group about possible next steps. No one said anything for a while. The silence became a bit awkward, so Khue said "What about marketing? We always need marketing.". This would have been followed by a mexican wave of relieved nodding.

There is no way that Khue has any idea about this. If she did, she would have helped write the email. Khue knows nothing.

By now I am 100% very fucking glad that I'm not on this poor team with their ill-described, pointless assignment.

Then this.

Anthony, our BD Manager will supervise you on this assignment. Please note that the assignment shall be completed by March 2010 and the presentation of assignment outcomes to the Country Leadershhip Team will be in mid March.

He ... who ... I ... wh ... umm ... WA WHA WHAT????

You-I-You-I-You're-fucking-kidding-what-the-fucking-WHAT??

"Anthony: thank you.

Many responses come to mind. "You're welcome" is not one of them.

"Anthony please help schedule the first meeting with your team and work out the plan.

Anthony Anthony Anthony ... sure sure sure.

I am now sure how their emergency meeting ended. Once Khue had trotted out the fantastic platitude about Marketing, the next issue was to decide who should be responsible for it. To put it bluntly: who are we going to blame?

More blank stares into the laptop screens. This time they are feigning interest ... in their emails ... in their shoes ... anything to not be noticed.

Then the penny would have dropped. I mean really. It's obvious.

Who do you call when there is a silly, impossible task that no one understands? Who do you call when failure is looming? When the job is doomed, who is the best man for it?

"The Potato"

I'm sure this part of the meeting was unanimous. Possibly even in unison.

So now I get to start calling some meetings. Firstly, a few questions. What is my meeting about? What am I supposed to be saying? Will anyone tell me what I am supposed to do? Who can give me some direction? Will I be sent any background material?

My questions are of course rhetorical.

I hold out absolutely no hope for any positive experience from this little hospital pass I've been given. I will not make new friends or learn new things. I will not be invigorated by teaming or personal growth or professional development. We will not achieve any tangible results. I'll bet the Status Report starts looking pretty healthy, while the rest of us still struggle to work our what LIV stands for. These are not statements of pessimism, these are statements based on experience and probability.

My charges are not idiots. They know it's doomed and they're just relieved that my name is on the top of the pile. I can already see them roll their eyes as they read our final report in March. But they won't have turned up to any of my meetings. When I say that "we" will complete this project, I mean that "I" will complete it. This is going to be the worst harvest ever.

Tree Houses

R: "Have you noticed that there don't seem to be any homeless people in Hanoi?"

-- "Yeah. What's with that?"

R: "I wonder if they ship them away from tourist areas. Like in Beijing before the Olympics?"

-- "I wouldn't be surprised ...

-- "But you do still see a lot of very poor people hanging around ...

-- "You just never see them sleeping out."

R: "Hey - Olive! Can we ask you a question?"

O: "Yes kiwi. Yes daddy. What?"

R: "Are there any homeless people in Hanoi?"

O: [Wide eyed interest] "People?"

R: "Homeless. You know? No house. Have to sleep outside."

O: "Yes. Homeless. Yes there are many homeless."

[She couldn't have looked less interested if she tried. Complete unconcern.]

R: "But we don't see any? Where are they?"

O: "They go to the park." [Smiles]

R: "All of them?"

O: "Yes." [Smiles and nods, somewhat dismissively.]

R: "Really? Are you sure?"

O: "Yes kiwi. Yes daddy." [Smiles ethereally and returns to her work.]

The Whole Set Of Permanent

Today I registered for our company health and life insurance program.

Even though the marketing material is in Vietnamese, it is littered with photos of goofy- joyous potatoes.

Case in point:

This is a very cheery family portrait. So I figured it must have something to do with dental benefits. Or pregnancy. But I still wanted to know more. Exactly why were these potatoes were so happy? So I asked Google Translate to help me and the results were somewhat unexpected.

"Tử vong" MEANS Death

"Thương tật toàn bộ vĩnh viễn" AKA"Injury the whole set of permanent"

What is Injury the whole set of permanent? Google Translate couldn't offer alternatives so I asked one of the secretaries.

"The Whole Set of Permanent" took some explaining. It demanded quite an insensitive reenactment of a severely disabled person. Think zombies; lots of grunts; more than a little gurning.

THEREFORE "Injury the whole set of permanent" MEANS Complete and permanent incapacitation, often mental disability.

So this is the part of the discussion where we talk about worst case scenarios.

$5,000/ người MEANS I will get $5,000 if I die or if I become a zombie.

This is the type decision that can only be made lightly. It's not every day that you get to put a price on your life. I headed straight to the dotted line and signed.

So now my life is insured for $5,000.

Then I realised why that goofy potato family in the picture are so happy. There were probably 3 ugly children in that photo the week before. Now there are 2 ugly children and a $5,000 windfall. Hence the smiling. Greedy potatoes.

"Horray! You're sick."

"Ha ha! Our kids are well but yours are sick!"

Perhaps these images capture the mood after all. Vietnamese people love being sick. I called my Travel Agent today and said "Hi Hana - how are you?" to which she replied "Not good. Tired. And a little Sick." I could hear through the phone that she was gently smiling as she told me.

By this stage I had given up on Google Translate and asked someone to walk through the rest with me.

Turns out I can also claim up to $400 per year on dental. $400! That should net me 2 cleans and a filling. The thought of what I could get for $400 turns me off sugar.

And if I am admitted to hospital I will be paid a stipend of $5/day. I wouldn't know what to buy. (I really wouldn't know what to buy.)

So much pain. So little gain. Who would be bothered with suicide nowadays? Especially with the US dollar being so weak. You can forget about wearing couture in your open coffin. These numbers say "get a tracksuit, deady".

The reason for including this next image was becoming clearer and clearer:

"Don't think you will avoid using this if you get sick - we're not a charity."

There is also up to $500 per year in medical. Hence this doctor, below.

"Heart surgery is expensive. Luckily, our surgeons are not fully trained, so they are quite cheap. "

This is a cheerily ill man:

"I'm off to present my Insurance Card and Id Card at the Hospital"

That's really what it says. He doesn't seem too sick to me.

"I'm going to collect all necessary documentation."

That's really what it says. I'd seen enough. If he was charging around with his briefcase like that, I would be asking him for a lot of evidence, too.

I started to speculate: what if Marsh Insurance is using these happy potatoes to incite racism? What if it is implying that the potatoes are still mocking dead or sick Vietnamese people, a generation after the Saigon had fallen? I wouldn't be surprised.

I can imagine the Marsh Insurance marketing workshop in Ho Chi Minh City ... "Let's shove some healthy smiling potatoes alongside tales of medical woe. Show how the potatoes don't care ... that they even think it's funny when we get sick."

By the time got to the part about claiming, I was certain this was the case.

"We're going to get 2 gay guys to laugh at your claim before we reject it."

"It wasn't us that rejected your claim, it was the fucking potatoes."

It's great to know that someone's got my back. I hope they don't have a knife. Insurance is so reassuring.

Oh! First Kiss

... is the name of my new favourite somewhat dated Vietnamese pop song.

The first scene of this video is the best. Just seeing the frenzied excitement of the young folk attending a pop concert. Vietnam's finest. I guess you'd have to be in the audience to really feel the mood.

Why would the editor decide to use that particular audience shot to kick-off this concert video?

All My Fault

1. Fallen heroes are all my fault

One of my Vietnamese colleagues walked past my desk yesterday afternoon and casually said:

"Hey Anthony. I heard you didn't catch someone in the training session last week and he fell off the table."

That translates to:

"Stupid fat potato didn't pay attention and the nice man got hurt."

I felt like an exhibit at the War Museum - my potato actions reported back with a heavy bias to a willing audience.

I thought to myself "Is this how it's being retold?" ... while saying to him "Umm ... that's really not the way it happened."

But he was already walking away smiling. I was too late.

He didn't need to stop for an explanation from me. He didn't need one. A new truth had ridden into town, and he had hitched his wagon to it.

As he left me I heard him muttering (over his breath)"Wow That must have hurt a lot ..." and then giggle slightly as he shook his head.

I just sat there with a stunned look on my face. I knew this look. It was the look of one who has just fallen backwards off a table and onto the floor without being caught.

2. Spiders are all my fault

Last week I was talking with Huong, who works in HR. We were talking about geckos (as you do) and I mentioned that I'd never seen a spider here in Hanoi.

Turns out, says Huong, that the only spiders here are small and harmless but people are still scared of them. I talked about how big and ugly the Huntsmen spiders are in Australia and showed her a photo on Google images.

At this point Huong looked up at me with an admonishing look on her face:

H: "Why do you let them get so big?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

H: "In Vietnam we would never let spiders become so big. We would kill it when it is small."

Me: "This is a different type of spider. Some spiders in Australia are big."

H: [ignoring me] "So why you don't kill it when it's small?"

I felt like I was being accused of being lazy; or careless.

Me: [defensively] "It's not my fault." [And then after regaining my composure.] "Are you really saying it's my fault that the spiders are so big? They are in the trees when they are small."

Even I realised how silly I was sounding. But I wanted to see how this would play out.

H: "Trees? Hmm ... yes maybe ... but still ... this would never happen in Vietnam. "

[She stopped a while. I tough she was reflecting but later realised she was just summoning back the admonishment.]

H: "We would never let it happen are little people and we don't let things grow big. But you are western. So big. So potato ..."

It's all my fault that Huntsmen spiders are so big and ugly.

Sorry everyone.

It's Only a Matter of Time

"Earlier this year, Vietnam's government tightened restrictions on blogging, banning political discussion and restricting postings to personal matters. Police have arrested several bloggers for writing about politically sensitive subjects."

Anything To Save Face

After months of speculation, the government has finally blocked Facebook in Vietnam.

This is our own little Kristallnacht ... and I approve of it ... as I do with most genocides.

Everyone knew it was coming. Even the potatoes were forewarned. It's been the talk of the town since yesterday, when it was starting to be blocked. The blocking seems to be happening one internet provider at a time.

It is only really hurting the potatoes. You can hear their background music in many bars and cafes: "I can't get Facebook any more".

Most Vietnamese people already have a workaround. It's just the stupid potatoes who can't work it out. The only group the government doesn't care about.

Yes while the locals are continuing to post updates on their profile, the potatoes are dropping crocodile tears into their burgers.

But it's about time the government did something. Vietnamese Facebook users are infidels. Here are some recent examples of postings from my own Facebook wall.

1. From Olive

"daddy, i wanna tittle-tattle Kiwi, he misleaded me to say bad words to big sis..."

R is the kiwi she is referring to. I wonder if to tittle-tattle someone involves unwanted sexual advances?

2. Also from Olive

"I think we can be animals family. daddy = dinosaur, big sis = lion, kiwi = wolf, n... babybee ^^"

I have absolutely no idea what this all means. But I guess I'm a dinosaur. I don't know what to do with this new menagerie but I expect to soon be told.

3. From Tung, the waiter at a local bar.

"hey bro,how're u,i miss u.will u be free this friday.friday is my birthday.u're hopeful to join my party.hope i can see u in my party.will u join"

Yes, I will join. Why are you calling me bro?

4. Back to Olive:

"daddy, Kiwi is bad, he's bullying me. I learnt new English from big sis last day, when that clumpsy Kiwi nearly drop his money: "Finder keeper, loser wiper" ^^"

I love the word clumpsy. It's an improvement to the originaly Of course there is this old staple:

5. Olive again:

"Mizzu, daddy! Where r u? Where's my gift? :-P"

And so on and so forth. This seems to be how Vietnamese people use Facebook.

R accidentally overstayed his work visa (forgot to renew). This is a communist country (the type of country that bans Facebook) so he needed to tread very carefully when exploring his options. He went to the HR department of the agency he works at. Within 2 hoursthe following was posted to his Facebook wall:

6. From his friend and colleague, L:

"Hey dude! I heard your visa is expired? Haha!!!! What you gonna do? Bummer man. You could be in trouble."

There are no secrets in Vietnam.

7. This from L's Facebook wall:

"Working at [Client name] site today. It really sucks there."

There were replies from the client, saying "Hope you're not referring to me man."

To which L replied "No man. Just your internet is so slow and bad."

L's company is responsible for providing the internet services and most of his friends in Facebook are either from his company, with many from the client.

8. Also from L's Facebook:

"Back to work today. I fucked up all the deadlines but no one knows! Hehe"

9. L also used his Facebook profile to celebrate his new love, then to openly wage war with the cuckold, and then later to wallow over the split-up:

"L is trying to do what he's best at - be a man, stay cool, calm and collected. But it's still so hard getting some sleeps, the stupid mind just doesnt rest at all."

"What goes around comes around. I broke 2 hearts and now it's time to payback. "khi qua bao den, toi chap nhan trung phat ma ko keu than""

"Lạy tạ lá khô rơi. Chết vui cho cành nẩy lộc". Sometimes you have to say goodbye for a glorious come back. Sometimes, it takes a broken heart to heal a broken heart. I'll be there honey. Goodbye

Followed by this:

It's all Red and Yellow here. But the heart is blue. Damn, I miss you

His friend replied with: "Bro... You can do it :).. There's no mistake to love with all ur heart and soul :)"

And then this:

"You touched my heart you touched my soul. You changed my life and all my goals. And love is blind and that I knew when, My heart was blinded by you. "

And this:

"That last kiss, I'll cherish Until we meet again. And time makes It harder. I wish I could remember. But I keep Your memory. You visit me in my sleep. My darling. Who knew..."

L was seeing his girlfriend for 2 months. Maybe 6 weeks. Very soon he will have been lamenting on Facebook for longer than the relationship lastered.

I've said it before and will say it again: this whole country is in Year 10.

I don't think that the Vietnamese Communist Party banned Facebook due to fear of social networking being a tool for group political action or dissent. I think the reasons were that it was just ... too ... embarrassed about what its people have been doing with it. This ban is not in the interests of public safety, but dignity.

The Cover Version

Bought today from a DVD store in the Old Quarter:

I guess that explains the look on her face.

Teamwork and Trust in Vietnam

I find my name, misspelt, on a card on a round table in the Ho Chi Minh Conference Room on the third floor of the Hanoi International Hotel.

It is 8.00am and the course is called Mandatory Leader Training Workshop. I tried to wriggle out of it yesterday but was told by HR: "Cannot Anthony - it's mandatory."

At 8.30am our instructor arrives and introduces himself as Larry. He is a lovely guy from Rhode Island who has worked in the company for 25 years and is happy to be in Vietnam. His shoes are old and scuffed and I suspect we only use him for in-house courses these days.

Exercise 1: ice breaker

Our first exercise is predictable.

“Write down the name of a leader you admire, and which qualities ..."

We share our results and Larry is way too enthusiastic.

[…]

Exercise 2: teamwork

We stand in a circle and count from 1 to 18.

Two teams are formed by sending the odd numbers to one side and the evens to the other.

I am the only foreigner on Team B, an enormous white blob towering over my peers.

Larry marches us to the back of the room and marshals each team under a sheet of A4 paper that is hanging from the ceiling.

The ugly vertical blinds in the windows remind me of my childhood bedroom and I start to daydream.

My team pokes me awake and hands me a pen. "We have to write our names on the paper!" they say, pointing to the paper.  I reach up and pull it down from the ceiling so we can write on it. 

My team's smiles turn to icy glares and they back away from me like a skunk in a lift. Larry looks over and groans. 

Larry re-explains that we were supposed to keep the paper up there and use teamwork for each person to write their name.

The game is suspended and people glare at the foreigner who ruined the game. Larry hunts for more A4 paper, reholes it, restrings it and rehangs it.

"Three ... two ... one ... go."

It is Team A vs Team B.

I rise onto my toes, write my name in the top box and hand my pen to the guy next to me. He can't reach and gives up immediately, handing it to a girl in jeans. She jumps up but can't quite manage it either. The clock is against us.

I am so focused on the A4 that I haven't noticed my team slowly gathering around me with hungry eyes, like cannibals at Christmas lunch.

Within seconds I am pushed onto all fours and my teammates start climbing onto me in quick succession. 

Arms and elbows press into my back and I groan as their palms press hard into my hips. The more nervous climbers are hoisted up by their teammates and dropped onto my back. I feel like a mistreated horse.

By the time our final competitor jumps onto me, I have become a fully functioning bridge.

She positions her toes en pointe as she stretches to write her name and I feel a disc dislodge as she bounces off me to cheers and high-fives.

Our team rushes to Larry with the paper, abandoning me on all fours. I spring up quickly as he announces our victory, lest they return to mount me for a victory lap.

Exercise 3: building trust

After lunch we are divided into the same teams. This time I listen carefully to the instructions.

This is the one where you fall backwards and trust your team to catch you.

Two tables at the back of the room will serve as makeshift cliffs. 

The three white people are singled out and told we are not allowed to jump. One teammate points at me and cackles a helpful "We're not catching him! Not possible!" as I look down and mumble "I am not allowed to jump", like a pale child with a note from his parents saying he is allergic to everything.

Larry blows on a cheap plastic whistle and we march to the tables.

Most of our team are relatively small so it isn't going to be a huge challenge. 

One of the shorter guys offers to go first, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he nods his head sharply, like a nerd psyching himself up for a date with a whore. In the previous exercise he had been very nervous to climb onto the old white mare but now he is at full steam, likely buoyed by this morning's victory. He climbs onto the table and gets into position as we decide our process.

They volunteer me as the primary catcher and we form a huddle, a disorganised kerfuffle, to debate the safest way to catch someone (palms up? wrist grabs? lattice?).

While we are talking, we hear Team A's first jumper drop back into safe hands, to cheers and congratulations. This added pressure pushes us to agree on an approach: palms up seems safer.

Then it happens.

A brief WHOOSH. Then a THUD.

No one breaks his fall.

He must have been deep in his prep as he heard the cheers of Team A. I imagine him biting his bottom lip as he psyched himself up: it's now or never.

We look down at him, horrified to see him on the ground shaking. He looks back at us in shock and his arms are still raised above his head.

We start to help him up but his legs give way, so we carry him (palms up) to the lobby area as a doctor is called.

About 10 minutes later a stunned Larry returns to the room and robotically launches into his wrap-up.

Larry: "So. Umm. Team A. Who went first in your team?"

-- "I did."

Larry: "How did you feel at that point, Minh?"

--"It felt fantastic actually."

Larry: "That's great. It really demonstrates the importance of teaming and trust."

Larry: "And Team B? How did ... oh ... That's right. Didn't go so well."

Insights gained: Look before you leap.