A Brass Door Knob, Forbidden City, Beijing

Dear Friends,

It’s been a while since my last post.  The fall was busy and marked by a trip to China in October that will go down in my mind as one of the greatest group travel experiences ever. This National Geographic journey started in Beijing and wove its way south through Xi’an, Chongqing, the Yangzi River, the Three Gorges Dam, ending in pulsating Shanghai.  In reflecting on the success of this experience, I concluded that my 23 travelers encountered group travel at its very best and here’s why:

1. Their Openness:  Marcel Proust is known to have said “The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” Throughout our time in China, each and every traveler demonstrated a willingness to see through the eyes of others or even to expand their way of thinking in ways that were unfamiliar to them.

2. Their Sense of Community:  From the very first day in Beijing, our group showed respect and care for each other, exchanging personal thoughts and experiences, maintaining punctuality, watching out for each other in crowds, resetting a bike chain during a circumnavigation of the City Wall in Xi’an, lending a sweater when the weather turned cold in Shanghai, and empathizing when someone’s personal belongings went missing in Yichang.  During breakfasts and free meals, I observed different travelers joining each other at different times, developing new friendships and learning from one another.  Couples welcomed single travelers within their midst, and no group was exclusive.

VIP Access to the Terra Cotta Army

3. Their Cultural Sensitivity:   No aspect of Chinese culture went unappreciated on this trip.  Each traveler expressed awe, curiosity, and genuine respect for all our itinerary presented.  From the serenity of the Confucian Temple in Beijing and the Great Mosque in Xi’an to the animated hacky sack players at the Temple of Heaven and the charming, erudite Mr. Wang ( former Chief Engineer of the Three Gorges Dam Project), our group members captured 100% of each significant moment and encounter.

4. Their Joie de Vivre:  I marveled at the personal stories behind each traveler and how they came to choose a trip to China. Many had overcome sadness and challenges in the year or so before the trip, and despite these (or perhaps because of these), they launched themselves into China with a verve and appreciation for life that was heartening.  Their perspective helped them enjoy themselves to the fullest.

A kindergartener waves her pom at us in Fengdu

5. The Authenticity of the Experience:  A group of individuals this genuine deserves the most authentic and truest of experiences.  I am proud to say National Geographic Expeditions delivered on this promise.  We were the only foreigners to visit Panjiayuan (a Beijing flea market), the only foreigners to eat in many of the local restaurants selected, to gain VIP access to the Terra-Cotta Army Museum, to hear an exclusive briefing by the dedicated Director of Foreign Relations at the Great Mosque in Xi’an, to enter the restricted visitor center led by a senior engineer at the Three Gorges Dam Project, and to play jump rope with kindergartners  and sing songs with retirees in Fengdu.  And all these authentic experiences were augmented by the superb lectures and refined expertise of our Expert, Ken Hammond.

Without a doubt, my fellow travelers on this trip enriched a well-planned, educational itinerary by applying the very best principles of group travel.  With their important contributions, I would venture to say we achieved perfection, a rare and beautiful thing in the world of travel.  I am forever indebted to them.

Kate Simpson

My daughter Sasha on the bench

Dear Friends,

Having spent the first half of my life changing homes every two years, there was only one constant place in my world: Folly House, Kinsale, County Cork, Ireland. This was the house my parents bought in 1972 to allow their four daughters to escape the oppression of Algerian summers. This was the house in which we spent innocent summers surrounded by pastures, overlooking the Bandon River, sunbathing on the dry barn’s roof and listening to Billy Joel and The Eagles under the surprisingly hot Irish sun (when it appeared). This was also the house of my parents’ retirement after my father’s career in the US Information Service. Here we spent many a warm, cozy Christmas before peat fires in the cast iron fireplace, played board games on the great oak refectory table, and heard the mysterious sounds of the beloved Folly House ghost late into the night.

A Kinsale Institution: Max's

In 1998, we all said goodbye to Kinsale, Folly House was sold, and my parents settled in suburban Maryland to be within reach of their daughters’ care and comfort as life wore down their ageing bodies. Eleven years later, after both my parents had left this world, the four daugthers felt it time to return to Kinsale. Our mission: to commemorate our parents’ lives in the place they loved so much and to dedicate a park bench in their honor.

I had mixed feelings setting out for Kinsale–a place so familiar and yet so distant. I knew one can never go back, never relive the joys of the past. So I set out with measured expectations, keeping in check my hope that it would be, in fact, magical.

As my sisters and I gathered, with several children and one brave spouse, we marveled at the comfort of our fisherman’s cottages overlooking the harbor. We toasted our return as the yachts sailed in past the 17th-century forts guarding the town, we smiled at the delighted giggles of our children playing on the small zip line in the gardens below and we reveled in the familiarity of it all.

Our bench dedication took place in a blustery storm (“ah, sure, it will clear by this evening” had reassured several of our Irish friends when we tried to rethink our plan), where my sister Lisa and I stood with umbrellas, perched on the bench itself, attempting to deliver a commemorative address. The wind caught hold of us at one point and threatened to transport us, Mary-Poppins-like, across the Bandon River. The ceremony ended early and we all headed to the shelter of our cars and the reception at my parents’ good friends, the Doyles.

An evening of poetry readings and addresses followed, with memories being shared liberally of my parents’ joie de vivre, their unmatched hospitality, their devotion to friends and family, and their unfailing respect and love for each other.

The following days, we settled into Kinsale like longtime residents. We met for coffee with Irish friends, we went sailing on the harbor, we ran into people we knew in bakeries and pubs, we took the children into town for “99s” (soft serve creamy ice cream pierced by a Cadbury’s Flake), and we went for a stroll along the Salmon Walk to Summercove.

Yacht in front of Charles Fort

One day, sitting perched on a rock above James Fort overlooking both inner and outer harbors, my daughter Sasha remarked “this is so beautiful, Mommy.” I took in the dark blue sea, the sculpted apple-green grass dappled with wild flowers on the hills above us, the rustic grey stones of the fort, and the saturated Irish light and had to agree–yes, this is very beautiful.

In this moment, when my own child stated the obvious, I realized I had never fully appreciated the place of my childhood. I had taken it for granted and made Kinsale a backdrop, rather than a centerpiece.

I had fully expected to close the Kinsale chapter in my life through this one commemorative trip. Yet, I found that, through connecting with old friends, seeing the place through the untainted eyes of my own daughter, I had, in fact, opened a new chapter. Kinsale will always be a part of my fabric, and I now know that I can and want to weave new tales into this tapestry.

Our friend, Mareta Doyle, is chairman of the annual Kinsale Arts Week.  International and local artists of all kinds come to Kinsale to share their talent and enliven the town. This sounds like the perfect enticement to return to Kinsale in summers to come.

As my sisters and I prepared our departure, it became clear that we had come to the same conclusion: we will return–not to commemorate the past, but to make new memories and carry on a family tradition. And if you are ever passing through Kinsale, the “Gourmet Capital of Ireland,” stop by the park on your way out of town, by the “new” bridge, and settle yourself on the only bench there. Take in the beauty of the lush green grass, the wind-bent trees, the deep blue river, and lonely Ringrone tower in the distance. My parents will surely make you feel welcome.

Dear Friends,

St.-Cirq-Lapopie: The Ideal or Authentic French Village?

On a recent trip to the southwest of France exploring the culinary delights of foie gras, truffles, duck and walnuts, a question kept occurring to me: what can be described as “authentic”?  Is a truffle farm authentic because its owners hunt for its precious fungi in a traditional way passed on for generations and does it lose that authenticity if science and technology allow a more efficient cultivation for commercial ends?  Is a walnut oil mill’s authenticity in question if the owners establish a restaurant to accommodate visitors curious about the mill’s production process and anxious to sample some dishes the walnut flavors so delicately?

In Merrion Webster’s, the definition of authentic is genuine, bona fide. In other words, what is described as authentic is actually and exactly what it claims to be. The designation of “authentic” implies the subject is fully trustworthy and presents itself truthfully.  Authenticity means the actual character of something is not counterfeited, imitated, or adulterated in any way.

So when one imagines an authentic farm, is one that belongs to the 21^st century with all its technological advantages less authentic than one that has lingered in the 20^th century?  Both are representing themselves truthfully, and are not counterfeits of the farm concept. With a successful restaurant added to its services, has our romantic image of a walnut oil mill been tainted, leaving us doubting its authenticity?  By definition, only if the farm or mill pretend to be something they are not do they lack authenticity.

I believe that, as we travel, we yearn for the nostalgia of yesteryear and the romance of simpler times.  When we encounter a magical place that meets these romantic expectations, we are thrilled and feel we have come in contact with authentic culture.  And sometimes we have. Yet, it is when the image in our mind’s eye is challenged by modern reality that we truly learn about the world, about its diversity of culture, about what the future may hold. 

 I welcome a dialogue on this subject, as ATA’s commitment to cultural, educational travel is tied to our ability to seek out and explore authentic experiences—whether they conform to travelers’ established preconceptions or not.  We want to share the world as it is, not as we expect it or imagine it to be.

 Kate Simpson

Dear Friends,

It seems like an eternity ago when I was a young China program manager for ATA and spent my time running tours with titles like “Decorative Arts of China,” “To The Edges of the Empire,” and “History through the Dynasties.”  That was back in the 1980s, before Tiananmen Square took place.

Two years went by and ATA had no China tour business whatsoever.  Americans felt strongly about what had happened on June 4, 1989, and expressed their outrage by turning their travel interests elsewhere.  Then slowly, travel to China began again, and soon, Li Peng announced in 1992 at the National People’s Congress that the Chinese government was going to build the largest hydroelectric dam in the world on the Yangtze River.

It didn’t take long for the China National Tourism Office to apply this news to a brilliant new marketing campaign: “Come to China and see the Three Gorges before they disappear!”  Few promotions indicated that the project would not be completed until 2009—a mere 17 years later.  The buzz spread like wildfire—cruising the Yangtze River before the landscape changed forever became a top priority for Americans traveling to China.  In fact, this keen interest eclipsed all other destinations within China.  The Yangtze River sucked most American tourists away from many of the traditional cities and towns, and took them up and down the roiling waters between Chongqing and Yichang.  No more visits to Qufu, Confucius’ home town; to Jingdezhen, where the kilns of ancient dynasties produced so many ceramic masterpieces; to Huangshan’s misty peaks and the surrounding Ming Dynasty villages; to Kunming and its lush tropical climate and rice paddy fields; to Kashgar and its intriguing history at the crossroads of the Silk Road; to Xishuangbanna and its colorful Water-Splashing Festival, and even to Hong Kong, whose glamor unjustifiably diminished after 1997.

So here we are: it’s 2009 and the Three Gorges Dam is essentially completed (2011 is when it is expected to be fully operational).  The water level has risen to its maximum anticipated level of 175 meters above sea level (574 feet).  Goddess Peak in Wu Gorge now stands less lofty; some Ba hanging coffins (believed to be 2500 years old) are now submerged; the reservoir is full; the roiling, muddy waters have calmed; and the Yangtze River sturgeon continues to fight for its life.  The river is still a fascinating place and shall remain so throughout time. But I think it’s time for a change…

Without diminishing the interest the Yangtze River holds, I urge American travelers to venture off the beaten path of the past 17 years and explore the rest of this magnificent country!  There are wonders to behold in China that have long been neglected by our compatriots.  Go, discover a China beyond the Yangtze.

Dear Friends,

We share in the grief and sadness that has gripped India and the world in the aftermath of the monstrous attacks in Mumbai that began on the eve of our Thanksgiving.  I cannot conceive of a more cowardly act than attacking and killing unarmed, innocent human beings.

Given the location of the attacks, in Mumbai’s financial districts and leading hotels, it is assumed that the terrorists’ goal was to undermine and weaken India’s economy.  The nation earns most of its foreign exchange from U.S., U.K. and European visitors. Now analysts predict India will lose as much as 40% of its annual tourism revenue–up to 20% due to the global economic slowdown compounded another 20% by the recent attacks.  And this all at a time when India’s tourism was expected to experience rapid growth between 2007 and 2011.

Unfortunately, we at Academic Travel Abroad have too often over the past decade been asked by travelers to cancel their participation to a given destination in the aftermath of an attack.  We completely understand and validate their fears and decision. Yet, more often than not, those who proceed with their plans end up experiencing a very grateful and welcoming destination and people–at a time when foreign friends’ support is more needed than ever.

Taking a trip to a place that has been through a recent trauma is an intensely personal decision which involves many considerations, including risk assessment based on the facts available.  For example, we generally discourage travel to destinations where the U.S. Department of State has issued a Travel Warning, though we do feel some Warnings are very politically motivated and inconsistently applied. 

In India’s case, our Department of State issued a Travel Alert today. This is described on the official website as designed ”to disseminate information about short-term conditions, generally within a particular country, that pose imminent risks to the security of U.S. citizens. Natural disasters, terrorist attacks, coups, anniversaries of terrorist events, election-related demonstrations or violence, and high-profile events such as international conferences or regional sports events are examples of conditions that might generate a Travel Alert. “  This does not warrant the same caution as a Travel Warning when Americans are actively discouraged from traveling to the country in question.  These Warnings are “issued to describe long-term, protracted conditions that make a country dangerous or unstable. A Travel Warning is also issued when the U.S. Government’s ability to assist American citizens is constrained due to the closure of an embassy or consulate or because of a drawdown of its staff.”

The Mumbai attacks have hit at the worst possible time for India’s peak tourism season that runs from October through February.  For those of you who had planned a visit to India in January and February, I would recommend caution and careful study of the news, particularly the India-Pakistan relations front, but would hesitate to cancel right away.  With increased security across major cities and airports in India, it is likely that travel to India is safer than it was a month ago. So barring any further violence erupting in cities on your itinerary, and heeding the State Department’s advice, proceed with your India travel and remain vigilant.  And discover a culture like no other in all its splendor and diversity.

As Lalia Rach, dean of the Tisch Center for Hospitality, Tourism and Sports Management at New York University, was recently quoted as saying:  ”… if we were held captive by the possibility of terrorism, Americans wouldn’t be flocking to D.C. for the presidential inauguration. We know we have to go on with our lives.”

Kate Simpson

Academic Travel Abroad

Dear Friends,

When I think back on the success of our family vacation this summer, I realize that there are key elements that contributed to our enjoyment. I wanted to share these with you:

1. My Children’s Ages

We’ve traveled to Europe many times before with Nick and Sasha. This time, at ages 10 and 14, their stamina, their sense of adventure, and their flexibility made it more relaxed and enjoyable.

Outside a mini glacier on La Tournette

2. A Variety of Activities

Let’s face it, in this day and age, neither adults nor children have long attention spans. Making sure to plan days that include both active and cultural outings helps keep everyone engaged. A museum in the morning (when everyone is fresh) and an afternoon of sailing, for example. In our case, we went to the Chateau Musee d’Annecy and then rented a sailing boat on the lovely lake that afternoon.

3. A Home Base–with good meals and a pool!

Moving around from hotel to hotel and spending long hours driving or traveling between points is not recommended on a family vacation. There is a reason why European families often return every summer to the same hotel. Settling in to one hotel for multiple days (in our case, five) allows the family to feel a part of the place, to get to know the hotel staff, to return after a long day with a sense of home. Even better, book yourselves in “demi-pension” (half-board), withbreakfast and either lunch or dinner included. Given our daily schedule, we opted for dinner. The children love the certainty of a full meal, with dessert, every night. Furthermore, it relieves the stress of finding an appropriate, good restauarant every night-one that your children will agree upon unanimously, especially.

Our Hotel Pool, Les Grillons, Talloires

A pool during the summer makes your home base even more appealing. On some days, when my daughter was dragging a little, I would hold out the promise of a swim before dinner as a reward for her perseverance. This carrot usually had the desired effect!

4. Experiential Activities

Whether cultural or active, the kinds of activities to plan for a family vacation must be interactive and engaging. This is, of course, fairly easy with active options like hiking, riding horses, kayaking, and zip-lining. When choosing a museum, for example, seek out any special visit days that involve more creativity in the presentation. On our trip, I waited for a weekend day to take the family to Chateau Menthon St Bernard (http://www.chateau-de-menthon.com/) because they featured a costumed tour done by actors who portray the various family members (including 11th-century St. Bernard himself) and introduce each room in the Chateau. The actors spoke French, and I am lucky my children are bi-lingual, so the experience ended up being doubly educational for them. They even translated for their father at times!

5. Flexibility

Any time you travel as a group, it’s important to gauge members’ energy and interest level, and remain flexible on timing and the order of activities. The first day we arrived, I reviewed the various options we had before us and had each member of the family state their priorities. It became clear that we wanted to: hike, paraglide, sail, see Annecy, take a cruise on the lake, swim, ride horses and do a forest parcourse. We managed to fit it all in, except for the paragliding (which my husband decided, after the 2300-meter hike, he’d have difficulty jumping off a cliff).

Ready for some zip-lining!

Though I know France and this region fairly well, I did feel that I missed having the more in-depth educational input in places like the cheese farm, the Chateau Museum of Annecy and elsewhere–context that we provide to our groups on our travel programs. And certainly, having someone else do the planning for such a trip would have been a wonderful relief. In short, even with my insider’s knowledge of travel planning, the value of an organized family program was not lost on me!

Victoire!

Dear Friends,

As many of you know, I was born in Marseille, France, and many of my childhood summers were spent enjoying Provence, with family and friends, from perches in cherry trees overlooking vineyards, swimming in the turquoise waters of Cassis’ calanques or picknicking in the dappled shade of the plane trees at Le Tholonet.

That time finally came last week– after 7 years of anticipation. We have tried three times since the first over the years, but have been thwarted by weather or threat of forest fires, when the park service closes down the whole mountain.

We set out from Vauvenargues, a peaceful hamlet folded into a valleyside and dominated by Picasso’s castle and its extensive lands. We numbered six: my two children (Nick and Sasha), my husband Stuart, my French nephew Cedric, his father Didier and myself.

The trail was called Chemin des Venturiers and is classified as “easy.”  When we had trouble finding it at first, we interrupted the gardening of a lovely elderly lady in a sun hat and shell necklace to ask for directions. In her lilting Provencal accent, she assured us we were very lost and redirected us, informing us warmly that the hike takes only an hour and a half to the top and “you’ll be protected by the shade of the pine trees most of the way.” Lovely!

The merciful shade was short-lived. As we started to ascend, we noticed tracks of forest cleared, evidently for fire management purposes. The smell of hot pinewood perfumed the area, and our temperature rose as we passed through.

The trail was wide (5 to 10 feet) and for the first hour presents a substantial pitch, made all the more challenging by loose gravel and large stones. In three or four places, the slope is actually paved with rough concrete, marking particularly steep areas where ascent (and descent) was perhaps deemed too tricky if one’s footing was not on firmer ground.

The heat was dry and unforgiving. We stopped frequently to rehydrate and catch our breath. Those pines provided only partial shade on such a wide path. The smells of Provence sweetened the air–the pines mixed with rosemary, thyme, yellow broom, thistles, and a few hardy red poppies.

Three quarters of the way up, we lost two of our party. Stuart had broken his toe the day before playing soccer with his nephew and his discomfort had soared, and Didier may have been having bad memories of his time in French military service when a long hike without enough water cost him a kidney. Or he was simply showing solidarity to my injured husband. They decided to wait for us to return.

I gave the rest of the party the option to summit or remain, and was delighted to have all children vote to proceed without hesitation. En avant tous!

Twenty minutes more of a steep ascent on gravelly wide paths, now and then with the pines parting to reveal sweeping views of Vauvenargues and the ridge on its north side. Then a change of pace–the path widens to a clearing with a bench (where someone has written “2 heures de marche!” as if in warning that the widely held claim of an hour and a half is not accurate).

From here we step up into a narrow path through brush and white rocks. The children quicken their pace. Sasha’s spindly legs fly ahead: she’s giddy with the relative ease of the new path. We spy the cross atop Ste Victoire. It seems far and high-but within reach somehow.

Soon we are on easy switchbacks up the mountain, clear from obstruction, with views that make even monosyllabic Nick, a normal teenage boy, stop, stare, and utter quietly “wow.” To the west now we can see the Barrage de Bimont, a large reservoir that serves the area–baby blue water in a parched landscape.

Back and forth across the mountainside we go, gauging our progress by the increasing size of the cross above us. Nick takes shortcuts, scrambling and jumping ahead of Cedric, then Sasha.

We arrive at the old priory, where an ancient olive tree grove casts welcome shade over its stone cool entrance. The place is closed and a hardhat area and piles of stone tell a tale of renovation in progress. Another group of three (French) hikers is resting and sharing some bread and saucisson. They compliment us on our pace–it’s true, we had hit a second wind on those open-air switchbacks! They haven’t been to the cross yet-they tell us they are “restauring” themselves first, as the French say, revealing the origin of the word “restaurant.”

I check in on my young hikers–we have to pace ourselves on water. We are running low. They all vote for not stopping. They want to reach the cross before any “restauration” takes place. Off we go!

Around the priory, the hike becomes a rock scramble. Again, rather than discouraging the troops, we’re invigorated by the challenge and what lies ahead. Large white rocks provide uneven, unintentional “pele mele” high steps to the top platform and its prize: the cross of Sainte Victoire.

Nick is the first to reach it and throws his arms up in victory, singing the “Rocky” theme song, as the wind whips up the sheer rock of the south side and buffets his hair. Sasha gazes in awe over the landscape around us, staying safely away from the precipice. Surprisingly, we have cell phone reception (which we hadn’t for most of the way), and Cedric makes a call to his father and hour away beneath us to pronounce the mission accomplished.

The victory of Sainte Victoire is particularly sweet to me. The mountain has long been a familiar, yet distant, vision in my life, resurrected every time I stood before a Cezanne painting. Now I feel a certain intimacy with this massive rock, a closeness that was not there before. Most importantly, I have shared her beauty, her colors, and her smells with my children. This time we leave France with a little Provence in our pockets.

Kate Simpson
President
Academic Travel Abroad

Hello, Friends of ATA!

It’s been a while since I last posted anything.  I received wise advice–don’t blog unless you have something to say.  Since my return from Harvard, I have been immersed in day to day management, while applying some strategic lessons learned from HBS to better lead the company toward a strong and bright future.  And while these steps may be exciting to me and my colleagues, I question their interest to others, so I have spared you any hum-drum blogging.

Then an event took place that inspired me.  I attended the annual NAFSA conference here in Washington, D.C.–and thought it was worthy of note. NAFSA (formerly the National Association of Foreign Student Advisors, and now simply an obsolete acronym) is the association that brings together those in the university setting who receive and counsel foreign students and those who are involved in sending American students abroad for study.  Here is their official mission statement:

NAFSA serves international educators and their institutions and organizations by setting standards of good practice, providing training and professional development opportunities, providing networking opportunities, and advocating for international education.

I attended NAFSA as part of ATA’s CET Academic Programs (www.cetacademicprograms.com) team.  CET Academic Programs is ATA’s study abroad division, which represents about 30% of ATA’s total business.  (We acquired CET in 1993 and have grown the program by 10 fold since then.) We (CET) had a booth and a larger than usual presence, as NAFSA is not usually in our hometown.

Sessions featured varied topics, ranging from Policymaking for International Education and Coming Out Across Borders (Outcomes of GLBT Study Abroad Experiences) to Helicopter Parents and an Author Series featuring well-known writers on international experiences. In all, the conference was to have over 9,000 in attendance from the U.S. and over 100 countries and took place in the D.C. Convention Center. The parade of booths rivaled World Travel Mart in London with Spain’s presence being the most impressive in size.

While most conference attendees might skip the plenary sessions, I decided that it might be worth checking out, given that Judy Woodruff, once of my favorite journalists, was moderating. I was right. It was one of the most worthwhile sessions of the day. In addition to Judy Woodruff, the following individuals participated, representing a broad array of perspectives, and explored the conduct and goals of public diplomacy, with an emphasis on the vital role of international education:

The panelists discussed topics such as the forms and outcomes of public diplomacy used by the United States in the last 60 years; the relationships between foreign policy and public diplomacy during that period; and the impact international businesses has had on cross-cultural understanding and the creation of the “flat world.”  Questions like “What role does international education play in building understanding across cultures and national boundaries?” and “What is the future of public diplomacy in the 21st century?” were asked.

The debate was heated.  Shash Tharoor presented eloquently on his position, speaking on the image and brand of the U.S. abroad and how it needs to change.  Hisham Melhem objected strenuously to the term “brand” with regard to a country’s image, as it implied it was all about “spin.” (He admitted he was not a marketer or business person, but trained in philosophy).  He emphasized that, in order to change its image, the U.S. needed to take action and let its actions speak for themselves.  This was not a case where “re-branding” and “spin” would be effective, he contended.

Keith Reinhard, a successful business man, has established a nonpartisan, nonprofit organization dedicated to reversing the decline in America’s standing in the world and improving relations between Americans and people from other cultures (http://www.businessfordiplomaticaction.com). Mr. Reinhardt cited the Pew Global Attitudes Project released in June 2006.  In this document, 15 nations were surveyed to gauge their attitude to the U.S.  Though anti-Americanism had abated somewhat in 2005 as a result of the aid offered up by Americans to Tsunami victims and elsewhere, our ranking dropped significantly in most of the countries surveyed.  For example, since 2000, Great Britain’s view of the U.S. went from an 83% favorable rating to 55%, while Indonesia (a largely Muslim country) went from a 75% to 30% favorable rating.  As Mr. Reinhard’s website states:

While it is true that much resentment of our country currently centers on our foreign policy, much does not. Other root causes include the perception that we are arrogant and insensitive as a people, that our culture has become all-pervasive, and that the global business expansion on the part of U.S. companies has been exploitive.

I think that one of the best lessons for those in attendance was provided by Shashi Tharoor, former Under-Secretary-General of the UN. He offered the following anecdote to illustrate the importance of cultural perspective.

An American farmer visits a farmer in India. The American asks his Indian counterpart where the boundaries of his farm lie.  The Indian farmer proudly points to the river visible not too far in the distance–”that’s my western boundary, and that” he says pointing to the trees nearby, ” is my eastern boundary.” He completes the demarkation of the farm by indicating the farmhouse behind them and the shed out in the distance ahead of them.  When done, the Indian farmer asks the American, “And how big is your farm?”  The American says, “Well, I get on my tractor and I go two and a half hours east and I reach the eastern boundary. Then I turn right and drive another three hours to the south and hit my southern border, and I turn right again and ride my tractor another two and a half hours north to my northern boundary, and finally I turn right again and drive another 3 hours back to the farmhouse. Just in time for dinner!”

The Indian farmer nods his head knowingly and says “I used to have a tractor like that.”

With (very) warm regards from steamy Washington, D.C.,

Kate Simpson

President, Academic Travel Abroad

On April 17, the OPM37 class of over 150 graduated. It was a gorgeous spring day in Boston and we were thrilled to have our friends and family in attendance.  One of the highlights of the ceremonies was our key-note speaker, Robert Kaplan, interim CEO of the Harvard Management Company and our class Leadership professor for the first two years.  Naturally, he was unable to teach OPM37 this spring, as the call of Harvard’s $42 billion endowment was a little more pressing a  priority than our business education!

Rob is an incredibly impressive individual.  Our first year at OPM was his first year teaching this particular program.  We could tell he was a bit nervous, but it didn’t take him long to prove he was a natural teacher.  He listened, he engaged, he challenged and he laughed.  Not to mention that his career has been a series of fantastic accomplishments that most of us can only dream of, so this adds an infinite degree of credibility to his teaching.

Rob began his address by telling us a little about what he does to manage the $42 billion Harvard endowment.  I worried I would soon tire of this topic, but Rob made it fascinating. He did note that currencies were an area that left him often confused–validating the frustration many in our industry face!  He moved on to the financial crisis currently facing our country, and assured us it would be solved. But, he warned, this was only a temporary solution.  The underlying, root problem in the United States lay in our leaders ignoring critical facts: that the middle class has been losing economic ground steadily for years and that there are 50 million uninsured citizens.  Someone in the audience asked whether Rob was intimating that this year’s election needed to go in a certain direction. “Yes, this election matters. It matters a lot.”  Rob avoided endorsing a particular political candidate, but it was clear on which side of the fence he stood.

He ended his address with a compelling and inspirational statement: “Most of you have not done what you will some day be known and celebrated for.”  He wanted us each to consider what contributions we can make to our world, our communities and our field.

So I left Harvard shortly after the ceremony and headed to New Orleans to participate in the clean-up of Louis Armstrong Park with several ATA team mates.  (See the youtube video on our main blog page.) Not a great contribution–but a start?

Kate Simpson