Office fun

Few of my American readers have heard of DBS Bank, but it is well-known across Asia. It is the largest bank in Singapore and a leading bank in Hong Kong. (This line comes straight out of its corporate information.) It is also the source of my monthly paychecks. And recently, it has been a consistent villain in HK’s critical – and at times sensationalistic – headlines.

I’m not sure one could find a more challenging start to a career in marketing and communications. Less than two weeks after I signed on permanently with the bank, the financial world began its spectacular unraveling, leaving many DBS (and other HK banks’) customers with worthless Lehman-related investments. Outraged customers blamed the government’s lax regulations and the banks’ mis-selling. Legislators quickly sided with customers (voters), and led protests against the banks. Banks, unable to blame customers, tried to chalk it all up to “the unprecedented financial crisis”. This failed. Now they’re collectively dousing the local wildfires with billions in repayments.

Just as the “Lehman incident” (as we called it) was wrapping up its fifteen minutes of infamy, our senior management in Singapore announced that 900 of the bank’s 15,000 jobs would be cut by the end of November. Though other banks had made similar moves, we seemed to take a large helping of the newspaper negativity because of our prime role in the Lehman debacle and the forward nature in which we made the announcement. Our bedraggled communications team – cut from 7 to 5 because of a resignation and a lay off – was back on the frontlines.

I could reflect for several entries on what (I think) I’ve learned from the last two months, and even venture a few novice opinions, but that may be better left for the non-public domain. The point is that our small team has been in a frenzy, and with the departure of my two closest working partners, I’ve been sprinting to stand still. I entered the corporate world more for learning than a career; God decided to make the best of it by granting me a crash course with a once-in-a-career crisis.

But it’s not all beating back flames. There are times when the wind is blowing favorably and the office is a place to laugh out loud (in amusement or joy, not manic delirium). Here are some examples:

• One of my officemates was planning to vacation with a friend in Japan. I insisted that she bring me something back; she hesitated; I insisted further; she protested, and gave in half-heartedly (we have that kind of relationship). Later that day, I spotted a box of cookies on her desk. I happened to be hungry, so I asked her for one.

“You may have one,” she said. She paused, then looked up. “I bought them from Japan.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s from the future, for you,” she said, visibly unburdened.

• On October 30, I got a call from a secretary of one member of the senior management. She’s very kind and soft, though not stereotypically shy.
  

“Ryan, I have a silly question,” she said.
"No problem, those are my favorite kind.”
“Uh, ok.” Pause. “Which day is Halloween?”
"Halloween is tomorrow, Joey.” (Joey is an office lady, not a baby kangaroo).
"Oh…so will kids come to my house asking for candy tonight or tomorrow?”
Suppressing a giggle: “They should come tomorrow.”
“Oh thank you thank you. I knew you’d be the right person to ask!”

• In Hong Kong, most people choose their English names. In the bank alone, I’ve discovered some excellent pairings of Western given names with Chinese family names. For example:

a. Lone Lee. (Poor fellow. Is he married?)
b. Human Lu. (She’d have an especially crappy time in England.)
c. Zero Shum. (My personal favorite, because the ‘h’ in her last name is virtually silent. I bet she’s an economist who invents games.)