The story of commercial humans

I was talking to some friends who are my regular kakis (gang) over some cups of the Malaysian Teh Tarik, or ‘Pulled Tea’, at a hawker enclave in Penang. It is a part of life here, going out is shorts and T-shirt, to have some light deep fried foods and light carbohydrate laden ‘snacks’ just before going to bed. It is good for the Malaysian constitution, and keeps us friendly to all the crazy tourists who come to Malaysia to experience the same lifestyle.

Poor, ignorant souls! At least they leave happy and satisfied.

Anyway, we were on our way to being happy for bed, when my famous badminton friend T asks, “Why are we all so focused on money? Isn’t there anything else to life?”

T2, me, the famous philosopher says, “Apart from the fact that you came here from cold, sterile Germany to sit in our humid, hot climate to eat happy foods and drink pulled tea and make quadruple the money you would have made back home while living in a super posh condo, what part of so focused on money don’t you understand?”

M, our Norwegian representative says, “Nowadays we also have social entrepreneurship. You focus on objectives that people appreciate and want because it is good for the community, and then they pay you for it.”

“So, you trick them into believing in something and then they forget themselves and pay you for it because they are so happy. You may as well give them pulled tea to drink to hoodwink them, then they will also pay you money because they are so happy. Much easier,” I say philosophically.

G, our capitalist American, who comes from San Jose, who markets himself as an Innovation god since he was born and raised in Silicon Valley (gives him Innovator genes, he says) interjects, “T2, don’t be so cynical. You Malaysians. Always on the defensive. We are a developed country, and we want to see all countries developed. That is why social innovation and entrepreneurship. We want to bring education, wealth and commercialization to all you people.”

“Ahh, you want to develop us so you have bigger and wealthier markets for your upmarket products – IPhone  Mercedes, Coach, Coca-Cola. By the way, did you know Coke can clean porcelain very well? Damn good for the toilet. So we have more money, you take our money, and you laugh to the bank while we are happy pulling tea. Sounds like a good deal,” I say, feeling mellow after a long sip of my long, cold Teh Tarik.

G says, with the world renowned Silicon Valley flair and aplomb, “Don’t be cynical T2. What is the point of innovation if you cannot make money…?

“Wait a minute,” says I, “Did not this conversation start off with the point that money is not everything, or why should it be everything?”

T says in almost a whisper, “I agree with G, but we have to show we care. Or at least pretend. At the end of the day, if you don’t have money, what can you do? Even the best philanthropist and people who do charity work and community projects, can only do so after becoming rich. If you want money for a charity, you must even submit a business plan for what you plan to do with the money. It is always about money!”

M butts in.

“Some things must remain unsaid, but we must all understand. In this world, no money, no talk as you Malaysians are so fond of saying.”

I am confronted with three overbearing Caucasians, so I need to stand up for Asians everywhere and assert my superiority, or at least equivalent ranking. Ego is more important than money, especially when you want to make money.

“Look, you are all here because you can make more money here, and live ten times better than you ever could in your own country. One of you even managed to find a super-hot Asian wife, leaving less choice for us locals, since some of our ladies have these delusions about Caucasian husbands. I guess the men have delusions about Caucasian ladies too.” I say patiently.

“My point is, why pretend to be not interested in money? Be frank, and say you are here for the money. But it would also be nice if you can contribute some things just because it is good to do so. Don’t do everything for money. Just don’t pretend. We are Asians, we are open to everything, and very easy going.” I continue.

Mr. Silicon valley says, “But this is what the innovation game is all about. We look as if we are doing things in a new way, and we make use of old things in new ways, but it comes back to the same thing. Money. Mullah. Mana. Innovation will always happen because everyone wants to make money. But you must keep on pretending in new ways, then only people will appreciate you.”

“It’s like this,” T says. “Previously, we charge directly for our expert services to you. Now we say you contribute to our expansion so we can serve you better. We don’t want to make money, but we want to make sure we can serve you well. All that means is that we don’t have to take out from our profits to expand, since you are paying for that. Same thing, done differently and we still end up making profit.”

“Okay, we are going on a merry go round here. But at least after you make so much money, spread it around. Don’t keep everything and pretend like you don’t have money. Make the locals happy to have you around,” says I, thinking this conversation is pointless.

The boss, our friend, shows up with the bill for fish head, prawns, chilly crabs and all manner of exotic foods.

“Excuse me, I have to use the toilet,” T says. He is off like a shot.

“One minute, I have a phone call to make,” G says before disappearing to the car park.

“I just saw a friend there. Let me go say hello,” M says, while going to the poorly lit car park too. He must have damn good eye sight.

All three statements were out and the speakers gone before I could even think about my escape. Damn. I thought Asians were supposed to be faster than Caucasians. Those three got me again.

“And so, we have another well-rehearsed scenario,” the boss, who is a Harvard graduate, says.

“Don‘t give up so fast,” says I. “Let’s do this.”

I go to my car, and surprise, surprise, my three staunch friends are waiting for me. We all get in, at which point three waiters show up, each one with a two hundred dollar bill. My unlocked car doors open, and three bills are shoved in the faces of my steadfast friends, while the bill bearers smile hugely at them.

“Wow, so much! How come?” my loyal friends ask.

“No speak English,” the bill bearers say. “You pay, you pay, you pay…” all three bill bearers start repeating. We are attracting a lot of attention, and crowds of locals and foreigners are surrounding the car.

“Isn’t that your boss?” I ask my friends, who all work at the same place.

They quickly dish out the money, and say, “Let’s go, quickly!”

“Don’t worry, I am paying the parking fee,” says I, forking out the MYR 1.00

Same thing, just done differently.

Innovation and Commercialisation baby!