Memoirs of a Trade Facilitator: The World Was My Oyster

By Thomas P. Kaczur

As increased attention is now being given to US-China and Pacific Rim relations, Memoirs of a Trade Facilitator stitches together real-life practices, skills, and experiences to pull back the domestic and foreign cultural trade curtain.

Memoirs of a Trade Facilitator reflects the author’s belief that life is meant to be lived to its fullest. The book describes coincidental meetings, subsequent treks overseas, and cultural knowledge gained during his Pacific Rim tenure. A network of friendships, opportunities, and potential business ventures became accessible as the author’s personal relationships expanded.

Unknown was the fact that his “trade certification” was a double-edged sword. He was often called a “foreign agent” involved in “industrial espionage.” However, both sides used his insight for their own competitive advantage.

The author looks back on this once-in-a-lifetime experience, filled with exciting, energetic personalities, central at times to the inner workings of quasi-public/private entrepreneurship. While even today, the author’s recollection may seem incredible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638741336

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Memoirs of a Trade Facilitator

The World Was My Oyster

Thomas P. Kaczur

Copyright © 2022 by Thomas P. Kaczur

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Prelude to Trade Facilitation (I)

Prelude to Trade Facilitation (II)

American Intermediary

Identify Corporate Capabilities

North Carolina Global TransPark Foreign Trade Zone

China SFDA Product Registration Dispute

Setting the Stage for Cross-Border Market Entry

Setting the Product Launch Stage—Cattle, Reindeer Meat, and Antlers

Mongolia Delegation Potential and Mining for Information

Silk Road Merchants

Inside Asia by John Gunther (1939)

Instant Recall

Corporate Development

Guest Speaker

A Fortuitous Meeting

China’s Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration

Market Entry

The Trademark System

Building an Organization for a Strategic Business Alliance

Trust Is Difficult to Come By in Any Relationship

Selecting/Interviewing for the Business Alliance

Memoirs from Xi’an

Assassinating Chiang Kai-Shek by Richard Bernstein

Growing Social-Economic Inequality

Hong Kong Democracy that Never Was by Eric Margolis

Layovers

The Marang District coastal port, new town, & educational facilities development Terengganu, Malaysia

In memory of Audra R. Kaczur

Born on September 21, 1982

Date of death: December 6, 2006

Touro College Jacob D. Fuchsberg, Law Center

On recommendation of faculty and trustees hereby confer upon

Audra R. Kaczur

the degree of honorary juris doctor

Introduction

Memoirs of a Trade Facilitator is a nostalgic review drawing upon my twenty-six years of experience as a trade facilitator, a luminary journey sprinkled with history revealed by my father, journalists, and those that have been there at the time. It is also possible that others may have related stories to me as their parents told them. All conversations are quantified by research upon my return home from the Pacific Rim.

A remarkably well-known and interesting comment with a twist at the end was passed along to me during one of my speaking engagements!

He who knows the past knows the present.

He who knows the present knows the future…only under new management.

As a trade facilitator, I was aggressively promoting the increase of exports for US goods and services, such as raw bulk, semifinished products and finished products for all products, all services, and all technology rights, which included professional services, etc.

Prelude to Trade Facilitation (I)

It was the first meeting with a young Chinese doctor at the neighborhood dry cleaner.

On a weekly basis, I patronized the neighborhood dry cleaner. The original owner on this visit just placed a notice stating the cleaner was sold. The transfer of ownership would take place in two weeks. He mentioned that during the two-week turnover, he would train the new owners in the store’s operations so there would be a smooth and orderly transition.

Since my wife and I frequented this business for twenty years, I congratulated the retiring owner and wished him and his wife well.

The new owner, an elderly woman, Ms. Wang, had formed a partnership with another professor, Cia Pai, who I met the following week. My wife and I gradually became familiar with the new owners. Ms. Wang was uniquely positioned. She had an interest in manufacturing facilities in Hong Kong and Guangzhou, and Cia Pei—a retired high school teacher from Shanghai—was quite well versed in English. It was quite evident all the transactions had to be conducted by Cai Pei because his English was more proficient than Ms. Wang’s.

As the weeks and months passed, mutual friendships developed. However, Ms. Wang was not as inquisitive as Cia Pei. One day Cai Pei said he saw me at a kempo kai dojo and wanted to know why I was attending these martial arts classes at my age. He continued, "Kempo Kai is an aggressive form of self-defense designed to disable a person, whereas qigong exercises are useful both for improving health and developing self-defense moves through exercises."

My response: "I will continue with kempo kai and join with you for qigong exercises. As both were forms of reliving my youth."

Weekly, I met with Cai Pei for training, and on one occasion, he demonstrated his ability as a qigong master. From a standing position, he moved his body into a two-finger handstand—impressive to say the least, since he was several years older than me.

Later that same month, Ms. Wang suggested that I could teach her the English language, and, in exchange, she would teach me Chinese (Mandarin). To this day, I have no idea why I said yes, but I did. Ms. Wang would come to the house once a week for formal language classes, she for English lessons and I for Mandarin Lessons.

Her professor friend, a retired educator, understood Ms. Wang was my language teacher, and I her English teacher. To say the least, Professor Cia Pai tested me on my Mandarin language skills each time I entered the dry cleaners. Needless to say, Cia Pai was overly critical, if not downright insulting at times. He corrected me at every turn and then took over on my tonal enunciation of every word.

Cia Pai was a demanding instructor. He requested that I commit to memorize five words per day. Each consecutive day, he would test me on my progress. Several months into our study program, Cia Pai discovered that I was tone-deaf—what a letdown!

Little did I know, at that time, there would be such a dramatic difference between Ms. Wang’s Cantonese pronunciation of Mandarin Chinese and Cia Pai’s Shanghainese pronunciation. And later I discovered, Beijinger’s pronunciation of Mandarin was uniquely different. Even though Mandarin and Cantonese are tonal, a novice would not be able to distinguish the tonal inflection between Cantonese enunciation of Mandarin because the number of tones in both Cantonese and Mandarin are significantly different. Mandarin speakers use four to five different tones, and Cantonese speakers generally use six (6) to nine (9) tones. More significantly, even though there are plenty of sound-alike words, a person growing up in Beijing can hardly understand any Cantonese or Shanghainese speaking person. Also, Mandarin is spoken the same way as it is written, while Cantonese is not spoken in the same way it is written. Now I am getting ahead of myself.

In addition, there are slight grammatical differences between the languages. For example, inversion is more often used in Shanghainese than in Mandarin. A Shanghainese speaker would say when asking, "Have you had a meal? a Mandarin speaker would literally say, You eat meal yet?"

As I became immersed with the language, I also became more familiar with the unique differences in habits and customs between Hong Kong, Shanghai, and China proper. Together we cobbled our skills into something manageable for each of us. Needless to say, we made an odd couple! Weeks passed, our lessons continued with English and Mandarin voice tapes and flash cards. Gradually, I was able to speak Mandarin with a Cantonese accent, and she was speaking English with a New York accent. We were able to carry on a simple conversation; a sense of pride developed within each of us for our accomplishment.

Eventually, a trusting relationship was developing between my family, Ms. Wang, and Cai Pei. During one of our sessions, she asked if I could help a friend of hers. No additional information was given. Obviously, a question came into my mind: What kind of help? Silence was the answer—translation: I just had to wait. This question was dropped after her initial inquiry, but it remained in the back of my mind.

We continued our lessons, and I continued patronizing the dry cleaners. As time passed, I was introduced to a young man at the cleaners. Ah, this must be him. Could I help was the question!

During class one evening, Ms. Wang asked if I would meet with her nephew. My first impression was to meet her nephew more formally at the dry cleaners or at my house. A few days later, her nephew, Wencheng, and I met at a prearranged day and time at the cleaners. This time, Ms. Wang introduced her nephew as Doctor Wencheng Huang. Since he spoke English quite well, more so than I was at speaking Mandarin, we had several conversations afterward, more for familiarization than anything else. As our conversational friendship developed, it became obvious that Ms. Wang wanted the doctor to continue with my Chinese lessons rather than her. The doctor was quite helpful and enhanced my lessons considerably. During the lessons, we exchanged our background information—education, experience, and exposure during my lessons—which proved to be interesting. A familiarity and commonality surfaced, me as a project manager having a background in hospitals, operating room requirements, and construction and him as a doctor from China.

Hospitals were the central point of our mutual commonality. It became readily apparent that Ms. Wang’s nephew was the relative whom she wanted me to help.

During another one of our conversations, her nephew told me he was a neurosurgeon in China; and to my surprise, he said he had participated in over 250 brain operations in China. Being more direct, Doctor Huang then asked if I knew anyone that might be interested in his qualifications.

I mentioned, How can you expect me to vouch for anyone when all I know is what the person has told me. Secondly, you appear to be plus twenty-five years of age.

He answered twenty-six.

Well first you must overcome the age barrier since the average age of surgical residents in the US is between twenty-five and thirty years. Also, the average age of a recognized surgeon is thirty-six years old. And for a neurosurgeon, I have no idea of the average age. What I need is much more information than this conversation to forward.

Even though I was familiar with many doctors, this was a perplexing question without additional information. Secondly, why would any individual recommend anyone without some form of assurances? Third, how does one introduce an individual and ask a respected, extraordinarily successful associate to assist an unknown foreigner? The answer was blowing in the wind. I gathered those associates or acquaintances by culling my files for a select few who might be interested in meeting with and/or interviewing a neurosurgeon from China. This was a daunting request!

Doctor Huang returned several days later and gave me his CV, defining his education, publications, and experience. Now what was I to do with this? Being a questioning sort of person, I asked my wife, a registered nurse, having a master’s degree in nursing, an educator at children’s hospitals, and a malpractice insurance investigator, to check him out.

It appeared that he was the real McCoy, a term having its origin from the days of prohibiting bootlegged whiskey, rum, scotch, etc. being smuggled into the US from Canada over the Atlantic Ocean. It is strange, I always found this term interesting, since William Mccoy graduated from the Pennsylvania Nautical School in 1895, first in his class and from which my father graduated thirty years later.

As fortune would have it, I was assigned to a new hospital where I met doctors who were remarkably familiar with me. At least I was in a friendly territory and felt comfortable in passing along Doctor Huang’s CV.

A doctor, an acquaintance of mine, was able to introduce Doctor Huang to a very well-known spinal cord researcher, Dr. Wise Young. It was my good fortune that my acquaintance was able to arrange an interview for Doctor Huang with a well-known spinal cord researcher. This renowned researcher, Dr. Wise Young, was impressed with Doctor Huang’s credentials. Dr. Young hired Dr. Huang, and several years afterward, Doctor Huang became assistant director of spinal cord research at a prestigious university hospital.

Prelude to Trade Facilitation (II)

It was an accidental meeting in 1984 at 113 Mott Street, my favorite Chinese restaurant, a wonderful restaurant serving the local community with traditional Chinese dishes famous for color, aroma, taste, meaning, and appearance. Whenever I was asked to recommend a restaurant in New York City, Chinatown 113 Mott Street always came to mind. The restaurant had a delightful local ambiance, and, in my estimation, it served the best traditional Chinese food in New York’s Chinatown.

Usually, I visited 113 Mott on a bimonthly basis, and I set my late breakfast/lunch schedule to avoid the crowds. Slowly, I became friendly with the owner, waiters, and I recognized the regular customers. During this slow period, I was able to talk with everyone. One exchange with the owner I will never forget was the realization that most of the Western Chinese food is loosely based on Cantonese cuisine. This was contrary to my understanding that Cantonese cuisine is one of the dozens of authentic cooking styles. However, who am I to question an expert?

The owner mentioned his Cantonese cooking style was Hong Kongese with a twist of Taiwanese, which blends a variety of Chinese styles brought by settlers, particularly from Guangdong, Fujian, and its own and aboriginal minorities’ cooking styles. The owner did mention that every dish served contained deep meaning and a spiritual purpose. Each ingredient—vegetable, spice, meat—holds meaning.

One day in early spring, 113 Mott was crowded. This was very unusual at this time of day. A crowd of locals claimed every seat, but one of the two (2) seated tables remained empty. Not knowing why, I had a passing thought in my mind; this day was going to be different.

As the waiter finished clearing one side of a table where a well-dressed man sat, as I casually walked behind another waiter, I noticed he was about my age. The waiter politely asked if I was waiting for another. I said no, and then he gestured for me to sit.

The waiter knew my usual order of three (3) precious ingredients, consisting of roast duck or chicken with sliced beef over steamed rice topped off with two sunny-side-up eggs. A dipping dish full of ginger sauce was set on the side with a pot of green tea.

It was unusual that my tablemate and I would strike up a casual conversation since most would normally eat and run. My tablemate looked around and said I was the only Caucasian in the restaurant. It was obvious, he was curious as to why I was there and alone. A little taken aback, I said that I frequent this restaurant since it was on my way to the office on Broadway and Leonard. He quickly turned the conversation to the staples in Chinese dishes, asking if I knew the meaning and spiritual purpose of the ingredients. Without hesitation, he went on and described:

Rice means increasing prosperity.

Peas, beans, and peanuts may mean coins and prosperity. Seeds may mean fertility in women.

Garlic symbolizes eternity.

Bamboo shoots are a sign of wealth.

Citrus fruits mean luck, wealth, and abundance.

Noodles are a symbol of longevity.

Fish is for prosperity and abundance.

Egg is for fertility.

Duck is a symbolism of phoenix and dragon, which means strength, unity, and good marriage.

In addition, he mentioned my choice of food was fortuitous in meaning because the order included a combination of chicken or duck with meat, egg, and rice.

Curiosity struck me like a flash. It is unusual for an Asian to be so forward. But considering he had previously told me he lived in New York for five years, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Another quick question sparked my interest and skepticism by his asking which afternoons during the week I visited/ I mentioned Wednesday and Thursday. As time marched on, the once sporadic meetings became more frequent. Over the weeks and months of 1984–85, a mutual friendship developed.

Peking Duck

As the frequency of our meetings increased, I was gradually introduced to Woo’s staff. On one day, out of the blue, my once seatmate (Woo) asked if I would consider working with him to expand his traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) market. It crossed my mind that these casual staff meetings at 113 Mott were interviews since our conversations were diverse, open-ended, and carried over to our next meeting. On one occasion, Woo’s general manager, Nancy, asked my place of birth, date of birth,