It has been 30 some years since I first spent time in Asia, over 20 years since I first got to know Filipinos high above Cayuga's waters, and nearly 20 years since I married my lovely Filipina wife and her family (not meant flippantly, just reflects reality). I spent years studying Asian culture, including considerable exposure to the gurus of human behavior in both Eastern and Western traditions, and have had several intimate, monogamous (if not long-term) relationships with Asian women (don't tell my wife! Just joking, of course she knows...).

I have conducted cultural orientations for ex-pat executives during which I enlighten 'em about the nuances of low-context versus high-context culture, the importance of Smooth Interpersonal Relations, and where to find German sausages or brie cheese in Manila. And, of course, I have spent the last three years creating these Pearls.

Given that, one might think (a) that I would have a thorough understanding of Filipino culture, (b) that I could easily handle any multicultural conflict that might raise its pointed little head, and (c) that such in-depth cultural exposure would translate into smooth circumnavigation of the East-West cultural divide.

One would be mistaken.

I am penning this Pearl, as is my wont, early Saturday morning at one of Manila's ubiquitous Starbucks. I had planned on writing a research-based Pearl about some serious topic or another. Indeed, the research is done and rough notes exist. While it is a good piece, it will have to wait for a couple of reasons.

First, it requires more time than available this weekend and I like to generate a fresh column early in the month for an eagerly awaiting world. Second, and more to the crux of the matter, I had a truly lousy week featuring a huge intercultural blow-up replete with abruptly aborted projects, incredible frustration, and bad feelings on all sides. The mess made the consultant's situation in the Filipino Business World 101 case seem like tiptoeing through the tulips.

As a consequence, I feel at least two important needs.

First, I need to vent. (To vent or not to vent? That is the question…). However, I will save my lava for ex-pat barkadas over cold Pale Pilsens this coming week. Airing dirty laundry on the worldwide web would be in bad taste. Even if I change the names to protect the innocent/guilty, which I would, no useful purpose would be served. Anyway, I know that I will eventually get over the bad feelings, although whether or not my Filipino counterparts will is anybody's guess. As an old guru of mine used to gently remind me: "This too shall pass."

Second, and of longer-term importance, I need to understand what transpired. To that end, find the following free association, which I am producing as quickly as possible in order to get it behind me. This creates two risks: (a) The exercise may give new meaning to the term "free association," with appropriate apologies to James Joyce and Dr. Thompson; and (b) I'll probably leave myself wide open to getting knocked down, having my face slammed, and getting my name slandered all over the place. If so, so be it.

Anyway, as regular readers of Pearl know, and as others can learn from checking out the contents and index, I work hard to get things right and to avoid stereotyping. Most of the Pearl-related emails I receive (increasing in volume lately) suggest that I'm doing okay.

BTW, sincere thanks to all of you who have taken the time to get in touch, particularly farflung members of the Filipino diaspora who send notes of cogitation, appreciation, and edification. While some complain that my Pearls make them homesick, most seem to appreciate the work I put into this labor of love.

Now, to return to the need-for-understanding theme...

Halo-halo is a sweet concoction of preserved beans, coconut meat, jackfruit, sweet yam, leche flan, crushed ice, coconut milk and who knows what else. The term "halo-halo", meaning literally "mix-mix", is a pretty good metaphor for Filipino culture. After all these centuries of inter-island migration and intermarriage, the country is a huge melting pot drawing from over a hundred cultural and linguistic groups.

Aside: When newly-met Filipinos ask about the details of my family life, as they almost always do, I often use the term halo-halo to describe the rather random linguistic chatter of Tagalog, Ilongo, Spanish, and English that surrounds me. Indeed, although I have come to understand most conversations in whichever of those languages (except perhaps English), I seldom venture to speak in the vernacular given my propensity to mix dialects.

At the risk of oversimplifying, I think one of the more fundamental aspects of halo-halo culture is a certain clash in the Filipino psyche between the indigenous past (primarily aboriginal and Malay) and the indelible, inescapable impact of western culture (originally the Spanish, then the Americans). At least in the business and social circles I move in in Manila, most surface elements are thoroughly Westernized. Yet at times it seems like only the thinnest of veneers separates the elemental passion of earlier belief systems from the supposed sophistication and advanced thinking of the West.

I was reminded of this not long ago while viewing a Filipino flick entitled Tatarin, directed by Tikoy Aguiluz and based on Nick Joaquin's short story "The Summer Solstice". Although we were watching it primarily because the male romantic lead, Edu Manzano, was a childhood friend and flame of my wife (another story), the tale itself was intense and mythic in impact.

Set in the 1920s, the film tells the story of a couple caught in the juxtaposition of Catholic/Hispanic value systems and the pagan rituals that existed long before Magellan set sight on Cebu. The Tatarin is a uniquely Filipino version of a druidic rite. During this surreal ritual, which takes place during the feast day of St. John the Baptist, normally repressed women transform themselves into "Tatarin" - enchantresses and witches. They gather together to worship the centuries-old balete tree, which sets them totally free from inhibitions, empowering them to dance erotically while the men (who normally per macho Hispanic tradition completely dominate them) watch helplessly.

Symbolically, this suggests a theme of balance, with man as Sun and woman as Moon - and about the imbalance brought about by the externally imposed values of the West. The ritual reflects, like many pagan rites, the vital importance of maintaining balance between heaven and earth, an essential balance for ensuring healthy lives, avoiding devastating wars, and raising good children. When things get out of balance, terrible things happen.

In pre-Western Philippines, the Sun (male) represented the Supreme God (known by Kabunian and other names). But equally important was the feminine moon, wife of the sun. The cycle of sun and moon ensured balance, much as yin and yang do in other Asian traditions.

These dichotomies are captured elegantly in Tatarin, which has as one of its primary themes an oppressive heat symbolizing elemental passions always on the verge of exploding. The movie has many images of the sun boiling in the day and the moon burning hotly during the night. There is a great deal of repressed libido here, captured in the Filipino term libog, which basically means the state of being horny.

Paeng, the masculine and aloof husband (played by Edu), sees the ritual as silly and old-fashioned, suitable only for the indios. His wife, played by by Dina Bonnevie, embraces the ritual as a long-sought after channel for self-expression (and orgiastic release), something totally foreign to Catholicism and the repressed sexuality it brought with it. Ultimately, Paeng ends up crawling in the dust in front of his wife, ready to kiss her feet now that she has finally asserted herself as a woman.

Aside on libog: When asked to interpret his work, Joaquin reportedly replied: "It's all about libog, isn't it?" To illustrate the use of the term, consider the following three versions of the phrase "you're making me horny": Tagalog: Nalilibugan ako sa iyo; (2) Taglish: You're making me libog naman; (3) English (sixties version): Why don't we do it in the road?

Note: this is the section where I expect to get into trouble...

There seems to me to be a certain "ex-pat life cycle" here in the Philippines among foreign businessmen who settle here. Early on, there is tremendous curiosity and willingness to learn all one can and adapt oneself to local practices. Later comes disillusionment and readjustment to the realities of doing business here. Over the years, there is a split between those who mellow out and move at Filipino pace, doing most things the local way (these being mostly less successful); and those who become sharp and bitchy, refusing for the most part to play along, and insisting that things be done in a manner consistent with business procedures at point of origin (these being mostly more successful).

This doesn't apply to the typical MNC exec, who comes in for a tour of duty and knows that his/her stay is temporary. Of course it's necessary that they make certain cultural adjustments, which is why I get consulting work with relocation companies for multicultural orientations. But ultimately such adaptations are superficial and the ex-pat either returns to the home country or rotates to another stop on the globalization merry-go-round.

But Westerners who choose to stay here (or perchance who get stuck here) face fundamental adjustments and adaptations that go much deeper. It is a given that they should develop a certain level of understanding of Filipino culture. But after they gain an understanding at a cognitive level of how things work, even if by trial and error, they must reach their own "comfort level" vis-à-vis questions such as:

• How much inefficiency can you accept? Assuming that projects never run on a Western timetable and are never managed to Western standards, are you willing to accept 80%? 60%? 40%? At what point do you draw the line?
• How native are you willing to go? Obviously, successful ex-pats develop networks of Filipino friends and associates. But do you play golf with them every weekend? Do you drink with them after work at the Pen? Do you go with them to karaoke bars? How many ethical accommodations do you make to get business?
• How much patience do you have in working with Filipino colleagues? Everybody has to make allowances, and it is in general a bad thing to make enemies, but how much energy are you willing to invest in endeavors that are likely to ultimately amount to nothing? On the surface, politeness and friendliness are widely identified as the two defining aspects of the Filipino psyche. These traits reflect a cultural emphasis on what multiculturalists call "Smooth Interpersonal Relationships".

Indeed, in the Philippines, the avoidance of conflict takes on a whole new meaning, becoming an art form unto itself. As in other Asian cultures, face is vitally important, taking the specific form of hiya (shame). You never want to cause anyone hiya, as it causes tremendous embarrassment to the entire group (remember the importance of pakikisama, the central role of the group). For a quick review of these and other generally agreed-upon cultural traits of Filipinos, see Filipino Business Norms.

Ex-pats have to figure out their own strategies and tolerance levels for dealing with underlying beliefs such as bahala na ("God will take care" or, perhaps, "what will be will be"). This fatalistic attitude means that, instead of grabbing the bull by the horns and trying to solve a problem, there is often a tendency to just let things slide. Even when something is vitally important or might substantially affect the entire rest of their lives, many Filipinos hesitate to act. Instead of facing the problem head on, they engage in busy work, doing the little things, going day by day, telling themselves God will take care of it. The only problem, of course, is that God is a busy fellow and he's not likely to take care of it.

Another not-so-positive trait related to pakikisama is the so-called crab mentality, based on the image of those crabs trying desperately to claw their way out of that wicker basket on the beach. Whenever one of the poor little bastards almost gets to the top, the others reach up and pull him right back in, until they all end up as crab cakes. Because of the supreme allegiance to group norms, goals are often set too low, particularly in teams, with the lowest common denominator always clearly in focus.

However, most westerners (including your humble author) are more attuned to Robert Browning's centuries-old quote: "A man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a Heaven for?"

Finally, this piece would not be complete without a brief mention of ningas cogon, an idiomatic phrase referring to setting a blazing fire, only to watch it quickly fizzle out. I will take the liberty of quoting my own definition from Filipino Business Norms, to wit:

"[Filipinos have] a rather unfortunate tendency to start projects and never finish them. Many meetings in Manila seem positive and productive, fueled by the adrenaline rush of money to be made, and sure to lead to great and wonderful things. All too often, the projects under discussion never get off the ground as the parties involved move on to other projects. This is usually because some participants were reluctant to show their reservations in the first place; they wanted to go along with the group consensus and share your fervor. While this has the short-term advantage of everyone leaving the meeting with a pleasant buzz, the longer-term consequences include puzzlement, frustration, and resentment."

I have seen ningas cogon in action more times than I can count. Anymore I just sort of shake my head and go on about my business. Let's just say I almost expect people to talk big and set high expectations, and that I have become very Missourian in my approach ("show me"). I try not to hold it against people, but it does get old. (This also probably means that I have reached a certain point, perhaps a fork in the road, in that "ex-pat life cycle" mentioned above).

All of the above traits detract from productivity and efficiency as defined in MBA courses and as measured in Western corporations. These traits exist widely throughout Filipino culture, and are not likely to change. I think the syndrome of not delivering and following through - the crux of the particular multicultural imbroglio that inspired this rant - is particularly prevalent in professional organizations in which activities are driven by volunteer labor. There's a lot of excitement early on in a project, and everybody gets all bubbly at early meetings. And a lot of things are done in manner that can only be described as "half assed" (excuse my vernacular, but I use plenty of Tagalog slang to so I am entitled to the occasional Americanism). It's the lack of follow-through, poor execution, and inattention to detail, not to mention the crab mentality, that muddles the stew.

Now before you hit that e-mail button to lambaste the insensitive Americano, I would note that I have pulled my punches as I wind up this free association Pearl. Coincidentally, I received a nicely validating e-mail during the day while finalizing this piece from an American balikbayan who left here 14 years ago. Seems she recently got involved in a business venture with some cousins who stayed behind back here in Manila and was real sorry she did. Although her note to me was gratifying and even flattering in that she told me my columns had helped her grasp what had happened, her own language in criticizing Filipino ways of doing things was far harsher than the above.

In closing, I sincerely hope this particular Pearl doesn't turn off any of my regular Filipino readers. But those of you who have followed the evolution of this series, or who are currently perusing the archives, know that I wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm not afraid to let the world know how I experienced a particular dimension of life in these islands. Indeed, I chose to spend this particular Saturday letting off a little steam when I should have been working on deadlines and deliverables. Hopefully the exercise will enhance my own workaholic, Type A, thoroughly Westernized output on the Lord's Day, which I must now necessarily devote to the pursuit of lucre, the Good Book's dictate to the contrary notwithstanding.