"So, how's your business?" Chee
finally asks, knowing a Chinese businessmen always gives a non-committal
answer to such a question.Chee Kok Liang unfolds his portable phone and eases his Hyundai into a parking place at Sng Cheng Hai's small auto parts store near Singapore's Colonial District.
Sng, a simply-dressed man in his 60s, greets Chee warmly and ushers Tenneco Automotive's Asia region general manager past the busy storefront counter into a tiny, cluttered air-conditioned inner office. Known as the "king of shocks" in Singapore because of his vast inventory, Sng sells an array of auto parts, including Monroe shocks, to repair shops. Over tea, Sng, who came here from China as a teen-ager and started this business 20 years ago, shows Chee family photos.
"So, how's your business?" Chee
finally asks, knowing a Chinese businessmen always gives a non-committal
answer to such a question.
"So-so," Sng says with a shrug. "Same old story. No money, plenty of stock."
Chee nods. He knows in fact that Sng is highly successful, a millionaire.
Over a second cup of tea Chee learns that Sng is concerned about a late shipment of Monroe shocks. Chee will follow up. Mr.Sng also tells Chee about a competitor's promotional campaign.
Mr.Sng likes Monroe shocks because they can be used on any kind of car. But Sng still teases Chee on his way out into the hot sun. "Just don't increase your price."
Driving Singapore's clean streets, Chee explains that because Asians prefer doing business with friends, you have to drink lots of tea before getting to business. "Sng is happy because it gives him "face" with his customers and staff to have a major supplier visit. Plus, he gets to bitch to me about a few things."
Chee says that while he actually sells through distributors, he is spending a day in the field. "I visit customers regularly to find out their problems, see how his shocks are moving, and learn what the competition is up to."
* * *
As he drives, Chee explains that Tenneco Automotive, which has been selling replacement shocks and mufflers in Asia for several years now, has captured impressive market share in several Asian countries. But now Tenneco wants to expand its replacement and original equipment business in this economically booming region. And with his knowledge of the region and its local idiosyncrasies, Chee is the increasingly important point man for that effort.
"In our small office in Singapore we're the middle-man between Tenneco plants abroad and local Asian customers," Chee explains. "We sell shocks and mufflers through a network of local distributors who sell to auto parts stores, which sell to repair shops."
Chee forges country-by-country marketing strategies, oversees distributors, sets prices, facilitates shipments, and masterminds sales promotions. He has two staff assistants in Singapore and regional sales reps in Indonesia and Malaysia.
Chee says he spends up to 40 percent of his time traveling throughout Asia, calling on his distributors and their auto parts shop customers. "To catch nuances and make good decisions, I have to know my marketplace. I have to talk to my distributors, and their customer, and their customer's son."
A typical business trip is a week. Taipei and Korea is one trip, Sri Lanka and Pakistan is another. Once or twice a year he goes to China where he pounds the street making cold calls, trying to get dealers to buy his product. "There are a lot of hassles with travel, but you learn to roll with the punches. I actually enjoy it."
There's a family joke about Chee's frequent travel. His wife tells their kids that if a strange man comes to the door, let him in. "He's probably your father."
* * *
Chee drives to a small back street just off Singapore's bustling Little India district. En route he talks on his car phone to his local distributor about the tardy muffler shipment that Mr. Sng is worrying about. His distributor assures him that the ship is just coming into port. As he emerges from his car, the skies of Singapore open up and it starts raining hard. Chee hardly seems to notice.
The street has many old storefront Chinese mom and pop shops. And Mr. Lee's small shop is the classic Chinese-style hole-in-the -wall open storefront automotive parts shop. Outside there is a profusion of red-lettered signs in Chinese script. Parked outside is a battered bicycle, which the 70ish Lee pedals around Singapore.
Mr.Lee has been in business at this location 25 years, specializing in mufflers. His shop has dark hallways and spiraling staircases. Mufflers hang everywhere from the ceilings like metallic sides of beef at a butcher shop.
The two men sit over tea, watching the rain beat on the street outside the shop. Lee complains that he will soon have to relocate his shop because the government is renovating his venerable street.
"Well that will be a chance to start a systematic inventory system," Chee teases him.
Mr.Lee says that he doesn't need written down inventory records, that everything is in his head.
"It means no one can replace you," Chee says.
Mr.Lee smiles.
* * *
Chee drives to a Chinese dim sum restaurant for lunch. It's loud and noisy and bustling in the Chinese style. Soon, large platters of steamed dumplings, pork balls, and glutinous rice are set on the table.
Chee, balancing a slippery pork ball between the pincers of his chopsticks, says that despite success and Monroe's reputation for quality, Tenneco faces formidable challenges in the region.
He is trying to service the huge Asian market with just this small office and no regional factories. And covering it is a physical challenge. Beijing is almost six hours away. Taipei is almost five.
"Because we don't have local factories, we pay stiff import tariffs. So our prices are 20 percent higher. Ensuring timely delivery from far-flung plants can also be a challenge.
"We're an outpost, far from our factories. That's why we're planning to build manufacturing plants in Asia. That will reduce our prices and boost our sales."
* * *
Tenneco is relying more than ever on Chee. Born 50 years ago in Penang, Malaysia, Chee Kok Liang is ethnic Chinese and Malaysian. An electrical engineer by training, he has been in the auto parts business 20 years, the last six with Tenneco. At 5-10, 185, Chee has a full head of thick black hair and an athletic look. He is married and has two daughters.
Chee likes to compete in karaoke contests, cook Chinese dishes, and do Chinese brush painting. He acquired a love of books from his school teacher father. He speaks five languages.
Chee moves and talks quickly, exudes a salesman's confidence, and likes well-tailored suits. "I'm part of a new breed of Asian business person," he says. "I've worked for four Western firms. So I'm a hybrid personality. I do business through personal relationships, but I'm an aggressive, objective business decision maker."
"Asian business people are serious, reserved, modest, and don't pull your leg. I'm more outgoing, and use humor. I like to think I'm in the first generation of a new breed of global businessmen. I present a Western face to Western people, quoting Shakespeare. And I present an Asian face to Asian people, quoting Asian proverbs. But at times, but at times I do feel like a fish out of water."
He says that some Asians say about him: "Beware of this Chinese guy who thinks like a Westerner."
He's very competitive, and enjoys telling war stories. In Indonesia all the taxis had to be fitted with new shocks right away. Chee was able to supply them, and take business away from competitors, by re-routing some of his distributor's orders.
"When I learned from a customer about a new promotional launch by a competitor, we beat them to the punch with a better promotion. Their promotion flopped. I like beating the competition to the punch. Bam, bam. It's fun. "
He especially enjoys creating demand and awareness through advertising and promotions like posters, hats, sports caps, tool kits, t-shirts, and travel bags.
"My job is exciting. Asia is the growth area of the world. I know the region and the product. I'm in the right place at the right time."
"I enjoy the freedom of being several thousand miles from headquarters office in Chicago, which is a several hour time difference."
He cites an old West Chinese proverb--"The mountains are high and the emperor is far away."
And he jokingly tells his bosses in Chicago that: "When you guys are awake, I am sleeping. And when you guys are asleep, I am also sleeping."
* * *
Driving again through Singapore's streets, Chee passes tall buildings, lush immaculate parks, and unclogged freeways.
As he drives, he talks with pride of this tiny nation-city of 3 million people, one of the world's busiest ports. "It's the trading, commercial, and financial hub of south Asia. It's a great place to live. Everything works."
It's squeaky clean, westernized, the Disneyland of Asian cities. The Singaporeans see themselves as the "Switzerland of Asia." There is no crime, little traffic, everything is immaculate. The local Chinese, Indian, and Muslim groups co-exist in harmony.
Some find the place restrictive. As one local wag says: "Singapore is a fine city. We have a fine for everything."
For instance, you may be fined for chewing gum, not flushing a public toilet, or for throwing a piece of paper on the sidewalk. Some see Singaporeans as overly-assertive and work-driven. In fact, the government now offers incentives for couples to have kids and sponsors classes teaching workaholic young men how to court a wife.
Chee shrugs off these criticisms in a good-natured way. He likes the commercial spirit of the place. "In Singapore, the auto parts business, as in most of Asia, is controlled by the local Chinese," he says. "What you have is a lot of small, mom and pop businesses. Everybody knows everybody."
"Our dealers are small businessmen who have to please their repair shop customers. When a mechanic needs a part, the auto parts store must have it. I make sure my local distributor keeps these auto supply stores well stocked."
He adds: "It costs $100,000 to buy a Toyota Corolla in Singapore, so your mechanic is as important as your doctor. People take care of their cars, which is why they use Monroe shocks."
Because the Chinese control the auto parts business in Singapore the business is conducted in the Chinese style. "People do business with longtime friends, with people they like, trust, and feel comfortable with. Business calls are also social calls. You have to find a common ground of interest."
"Nuances matter. It's what a customer doesn't tell you that is the key. Asians don't like to confront and say bad things. You have to know how to probe, to draw the person out, to read body language."
"When a dealers comments about price, quality, or delivery, I often need to read between the lines."
He says most of these Chinese owned businesses pass from fathers to sons.
"The fathers run their businesses in the old Chinese style--doing business with friends, using informal bookkeeping and inventory control. The sons do business more on profit than relationships. They have laptops, portable phones, and have less time to drink tea and chew the fat. "
* * *
On bustling North Bridge Road, Chee parks out in front of Lim Swee Eng's auto parts shop, a large storefront manned by a small efficient staff. To one side of the counter is a small red and gold Chinese religious shrine, complete with small statues and burning incense. It brings good luck, and most small Chinese businesses have them.
Joining Chee for tea and biscuits in the back office are Lim and his lanky son, his father's main assistant. The 71-year-old Lim, who came here from China when he was 24, tells Chee about his morning jog. A reformed smoker, Lim has become a fitness buff in his later years. And he is proud of his flat stomach and strong legs.
"Are you getting what you need from us?" Chee asks.
"The quality is still good. Delivery is on time."
Chee nods.
"Your price is high, but the Monroe shocks are selling well. I'm happy with the brand."
* * *
Later in the old Chinatown, Chee finds a cafe, orders a soft drink, and looks out at the passing foot traffic. "This old style Chinatown is gradually disappearing in Singapore," he says.
He says he enjoys meeting with customers. Before long he's reflecting on the future. "The potential is mind-boggling. When you think of India and China, we're talking about half the population of the world."
He says it's a challenge for an American firm to deal with such an array of Asian cultures and business styles. You really have to know the cultures to succeed here, he says. For instance, it helps to know that in much of Asia, sales are down during the "unlucky" seventh month of year, that business is up before Chinese New Year when people fix up their cars. Chee shakes his head. "Some Americans still think Singapore is part of China!"
At the end of the day, Chee stops by his small office in a tall building on Anson Road in Singapore's burgeoning financial district. He checks his messages with assistants Patricia Chik and Catherine Teo.
In his office, strewn with numerous Monroe promotional items, Chee visits with his Indonesian distributor who is in town for a visit. He talks on the phone to his sales rep in Indonesia, and he chats with the Tenneco plant manager in Australia about a new order from Taiwan. Finally he confers with Catherine Teo about an upcoming business trip to Korean and Taiwan.
Later, Chee enters "Wall Street," an upscale karaoke establishment not far from his office. Chee greets a few friends and takes a seat. Soon, it's Chee's turn. Standing there with the microphone, he performs an Elvis ballad with genuine feeling. He's enjoying himself. And besides, he needs the practice. There's a karaoke competition coming up.