Woman watching sheep, Gansu, China (Photo: M. Griffiths)
Under Development
(Part 1)
Frustration
“Thanks for seeing me
and I’m really sorry I’m late. The traffic was terrible. Beijing just seems to
be getting worse by the month.”
The woman smiled with
understanding, then shook her head slightly. “I won’t beat around the bush Mr Greenwood.
I admire your desire to work here in China and your commitment to developing
your skills and experience. But our preference now is to hire locals. We are
aiming to increase the capacity of the Chinese to do this kind of work
themselves. They have the language and cultural understanding to do things people
like you and I can’t do nearly as easily.” She paused. “You’ll find most
international NGOs are moving in this direction.”
He nodded. “Sure I
understand that. But clearly you are not Chinese and your organisation wouldn’t
be in China if the locals could do it all themselves.” He bit his lip.
Critiquing their policies probably wasn’t going to help his chances.
He thought for a moment
he saw a brief flash of sympathy cross her face. She pressed her lips tight and
shook her head.
“All I can do is
recommend you keep an eye on the website and see if anything suitable comes up.
But I can’t make any promises.”
“What are you doing in
Beijing at the moment?”
“I’m teaching English,
just until I can get a permanent job, or a long term project role.”
“I see.”
“I had an ADB project
lined up when I arrived but it fell over at the last minute.”
“You have good skills
and experience.”
“Thank you Mr Zhang. I have
been fortunate to work on some good projects. Mostly volunteer work. But I’m
finding it difficult to get a foot in the door of paid consulting or NGO
positions here.”
He nodded. “It’s not
easy I know.” he said in his Canadian educated accent. “I’m interested in how
good your Chinese is. You say you have studied the language before you came
here?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“And you have been here
for some time.
“A few months. I’ve been
studying a bit here too, and practising as much as I can.”
“Do you mind if we talk
in Chinese.”
“Sure”. said Justin, but
his heart started pounding. This was going to be hard.
After ten minutes and
several repetitions of “Dui bu qi. Wo
ting bu dong”, Sorry, I don’t understand, Mr Zhang reverted to English.
“As a local company we
do most of our consulting work with government ministry staff and local governments.
We need people who can speak and write fluent Chinese. Perhaps you can come
back in a year or two?”
“I see. Ok, thanks.”
How
could he ever be as fluent as a local? He could never compete with them. Another
one bites the dust.
Stacey Hendricks showed him down
the long narrow office to the manager’s desk at the rear. She was the manager’s
assistant and involved in managing several projects. She had been very helpful
and positive on the phone. Justin had good feeling about this one. He might
finally crack it. He noted the staff
beavering away at the desks spaced along the office. They looked mostly young
like himself, project officers keeping an eye on how things were going and
watching the money, and a maybe one or
two specialists. Mostly they managed sub-contractors and various technical
experts and liaised with the funding agencies. Exactly what he wanted to do,
ultimately getting to be a team leader managing significant projects.
“Mr Taggart. This is
Justin Greenwood. I told you a bit about him earlier.” He shook the man’s hand.
Stacey smiled at him as
she turned, “I’ll leave you to it.”
Justin smiled and sat
down. “Nin hao. Xie xie ni jin tian gen
wo liao tian.” Hello. Thanks for talking with me today.
The man dropped his
eyes. “Actually I don’t speak much Chinese.”
“Oh. Sorry. I just
presumed… ”
Taggart arranged some
files on his desk.
“You look busy.” said
Justin, desperate to change the subject. He felt a tell-tale trickle of
perspiration run down the back of his neck.
“I’m getting ready to go
home for three months leave. My family has almost forgotten what I look like.”
He smiled. “So, how can I help?”
Justin handed over his C.V.
and launched into his spiel one more time. Taggart listened and nodded.
“Ok. Let me tell you a
little about M.A.C. - Macintosh, Adler and Compton. We are an old established
firm that manages development projects on behalf of a range of international donors…”
As he finished up his long
description of the company and its work Justin nodded and tried to get the
discussion back to possible job openings. “That sounds excellent. I looked at
the company website and was impressed by the range of work you do. Ah, Stacey
indicated on the phone that you may have some projects coming up where my
skills could fit.”
Taggart glanced down the
office. “We do have some new projects in the pipeline but generally we choose our
project teams and coordinators from within M.A.C. Most of the staff here, he nodded towards the
people at the row of desks, are from our head office.”
“Sure, but there must be
times when you need extra help. Or particular skills?”
“Yes. Sometimes.
Although mostly they have considerable experience. How has your job hunt gone
in the other places you have talked to?”
“Some good chats.”
Justin said, trying to sound positive. “Nothing concrete has come out of them yet
though.”
Taggart resumed
arranging the files on the desk top. He looked up. “I think you need a
strategy.”
A
strategy?! Justin
felt his face flushing. I’ve registered
on all the consultants’ websites. I check the job ads every second day. That and
talking to you and lots of other employers IS my strategy.
He raised his hand to
his mouth and coughed to hide his irritation. Then he realised what the man was
saying. Apparently, whatever his strategy
was, it wasn’t going to involve M.A.C. He decided to press him a little
further anyway. “What would you suggest?” he asked as casually as he could
manage.
“Work on your strategy
and keep trying.” Taggart began to stand up.
“Ok. I’ll do that.
Thanks for your time and enjoy your trip home.” He shook his hand again and
slowly walked down the office. Stacey looked up and smiled, “Any luck?”
He shrugged. “Thanks for
arranging the interview. I appreciate your help.” He tried to smile and failed.
“You’re welcome. Good
luck with your job hunting.”
He kicked himself for
being a jerk. “Thanks.” His smile
this time was more genuine. His lack
of success wasn’t her fault and she had been more helpful than most. “Good luck
with all your projects.”
“Thanks.”
“See you.”
“Bye.”
He walked out the door. Work on my strategy!! He punched the elevator button violently. Arggh!
********
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Tell me what you think. Constructive comments welcome.
If you like the story share with it with your friends.
Tell me what you think. Constructive comments welcome.
If you like the story share with it with your friends.
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