In Search of the Perfect Laab in Laos

November 25, 2011

Dear Friends,

Laab (also written ‘larb’) is a dish originating in Laos that has become a staple of menus across Thailand.  Its name means “luck” and this dish is a frequent star at the table during festivals and special occasions. It also makes the perfect gift for guests, conveying your good wishes along with some fresh sustenance all on one plate.

Some Laab Ingredients: Mint, cilantro, shallots

To me and my family, laab is a perennial favorite. Loving simple, speedy Southeast Asian cuisine, I became enamored of Thai dishes long ago.  My children, at very young ages, when asked their favorite foods, would cite “pizza, peanut butter and laab,” raising quizzical eyebrows on inquiring adults.  To this day, turning to the laab page in my Thai recipe book, the tell-tale scribbles of my two-year-old daughter (who is now 14) attest to this dish’s place in my family history.

So finding myself in Laos recently in the company of my colleague, Chris Roper, who shares my culinary interests, we decided to go on a pilgrimage to find the best laab. In Luang Prabang, we settled into the lovely Bamboo Garden restaurant, by the fountain, and ordered Laab Gai, the chicken version.  It arrived with a garnish of cucumber and cabbage, and young, delicate sprigs of cilantro and mint. The usual seasonings of fish sauce (usually squid) and lime juice were subtle, with scallions and cilantro dominating, textured by the barely perceptible crunch of roasted rice powder.  The spice was very tame, and Chris and I felt a little disappointed.  Very good, but this laab had not reached full potential.

A monk in Luang Prabang prepares a spicy green papaya salad

We moved on to a place recommended to us by our Lao guide, Mr. Kamh. He claimed it was the best laab in town.  Skeptically, we claimed a two-top at “Pizza Luang Prabang.”  A two-tiered terrace of exterior tables camouflaged an unattractive interior, where plastic-covered tables, a linoleum floor and kitschy decorations made me question our choice.  Two Italian men chattered away next to us, enjoying a smoke after their LP Pizza.  We ordered our laab—beef this time–and some Lao coffee.

When the waiter placed the dish on the table, we leaned in to inspect it.  Interesting: this time we saw unexpected ingredients.  Baby bean sprouts and thinly sliced lemon grass added texture and citrus to the overall freshness of this lucky Lao salad.  The rice powder was also more prevalent, adding a nutty undertone that was very pleasing. Again the lime and fish sauce were subtle, almost after-thoughts.   And there was another ingredient that was hard to identify, a barely discernible vegetable.  Again the spice level was low, and for us, spice addicts, a bit disappointing. Nonetheless, we agreed this laab won over the Bamboo Garden’s.

Our third laab tasting was compliments of Mr. Tie (pronounced “tee”), our chef on the Mekong Sun, a lovely little ship that travels from Luang Prabang to the Golden Triangle. Mr. Tie is a baby-faced 26-year-old who has been cooking since he was a teen.  He clearly loves his craft and puts his heart into every dish. He provided a full cooking demonstration for all the passengers, revealing a few aspects of preparation that were new to me.  For example, he added fish sauce as seasoning to the chicken before cooking it in the pan.  He not only added fried shallots but also fresh ones. He taught us how to roast our own rice: with lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves—in a dry pan.  Then the browned rice is transferred to a mortar and pounded into a powder (I buy small packets of rice powder at home, saving at least 30 minutes!). Then he revealed the secret ingredient I could not identify in Luang Prabang: raw yard-long beans, sliced into tiny rounds.  This addition adds a whole new, greener dimension to laab.

Mr. Tie's ingredients are laid out for laab gai preparation

Mr. Tie’s laab was very similar to Luang Prabang Pizza’s—excellent in its freshness and crunch.  Again, I would add more lime juice and chili powder, but this is a personal preference.

My time is Laos is a gift I am not soon to forget, and laab is one lucky way I can continue to keep a little piece of Laos in my life and in my heart.  For all those who dream of going to Laos, I present you with a recipe that I hope will bring you the good fortune of one day seeing this magnificent country.

Larb Nua (Beef Larb)

1 lb beef, minced or ground

2 cloves of garlic, chopped

1-3 red chili(s), chopped (spice level according to taste, of course)

1 tbsp chopped shallots

2 tbsp Thai basil, chopped (can replace with coriander, if you prefer)

2 tbsp mint, chopped

1 tbsp roasted rice powder

1 tbsp spring onion, chopped

1-2 tbsp of Nuoc Mam or fish sauce, to taste

Juice of 2-3 limes (taste and see if you like it with more citrus!)

2 hothouse cucumbers, sliced lengthwise and seeded, cut into 6 inch “boats” OR iceberg lettuce leaves

Hot peppers dry in a village along the Upper Mekong

Variations Seen in Laos:

-         Add fresh bean sprouts

-         Add chopped yard-long green beans

-         Add chopped lemon grass

Fry the beef in a wok or large frying pan, without oil, until browned and cooked through. Leave to cool.

Lightly brown the garlic, chili and shallot in a pan over medium heat, again without oil. Pound them together then mix this paste with the meat.  Stir in the fish sauce, lime juice, rice powder. Toss in the Thai basil, mint and scallions and stir. Serve at room temperature.

Prepare the cucumber “boats” and/or separate the iceberg lettuce leaves and place in dish for serving.  Laab is then spooned into the cucumber boats (my children’s favorite!) or wrapped in the lettuce leaves.

Sóen Sâep!

Wishing you Luck and Happiness with a fresh plate of laab gai!


A Lao Village Along the Mekong

November 4, 2011

Boy plays and swims around boat docked on Mekong beach

The splashing of water lures me out to my stern balcony. They must be diving under the ship to fix the faulty propeller, I think. As I lean over the edge of the railing, I discover I am wrong: four Lao children are swimming gleefully around the boat on a competitive circuit, the weakest swimmer ending up dangerously swept downriver by the strong Mekong current before grasping the stern of a longtail boat docked nearby.  He struggles hard to keep up and eventually disappears with the others upstream again.

The Mekong Sun, our ship

The clean, sandy beach where we have docked for repairs presents cameos of life along this mighty Indochinese river.  A woman in a straw hat busily plants her vegetable seedlings, while keeping an eye on her nearby toddler, who happily digs her own holes.  Another woman waters her sandy field, and scolds children who come too near as they practice their somersaults, cartwheels and handstands. Three children emerge from the water and run to join the gymnastic group, one of the littlest pausing to remove her chafing, sandy underwear and continue on unimpeded.

From the beach, one of the crew beckons me to join them. He and a group of passengers seem to be heading inland. Clearly, the
repairs are going to take a while.  Within minutes, I emerge on the wide, sandy expanse, impressed by how the muddy Mekong, during the drier season, can sport beaches to compete with the seaside resorts of the world. Our small group climbs the dunes into the jungle to discover wooden pens containing healthy piglets, sows and ducks.  A few more steps upward, and the stilted
thatched traditional Lao homes emerge, neatly arranged along a main artery parallel to the Mekong.  Hearing giggles
behind me, I turn just in time to see two naked boys of seven or eight years rushing past, wet clothes in hand.  They grin at me unabashed, then stop at a clothesline up ahead and neatly lay out their shorts and shirts to dry, disappearing into their home.

Children in Khokphu Village, Laos

Every adult and child we encounter smiles broadly and the traditional greeting echoes throughout the village “Sabaidee!”  Hens and chicks scuttle under a home, two pot-bellied pigs squeal their way under a fence and trot past us, ducks of all kinds paddle around a small central pond, and random dogs and kittens sun themselves on ledges and in doorways.  Mothers wearing the intricately woven sarong skirts lean in doorways with babies on their hips, and occasionally call out to older children, perhaps admonishing them to behave. Giddy children follow our progress, as we tour their empty new school (it’s Friday afternoon), complete with five classrooms, desks and blackboards.  The villagers saved for years to buy the construction materials to build this school, and now they are able to educate not only their little ones but also several other nearby villages’. Neatly piled bricks, wood, and bags of cement under eaves suggest that another construction project may be under way soon.

Heading to the top of the village, at the highest point, we come upon a temple, home to a handful of monks.  A boy of eight or so in a saffron robe is busy sweeping the large fallen teak leaves and debris from around the temple grounds.  An old monk
and his young apprentices sit idly under a thatched pavilion, talking and relaxing.  Saffron robes catch the saturated rays of sun on a clothesline behind the temple. Marigolds, Helliconia, and Crown of Thorn flowers abound, adding even more color and a sense of paradise to this elevated, peaceful scene above the Mekong.

A young monk tends to the grounds of his temple, Khokphu village, Laos

As we come back down through the village on our way back to our boat, an old woman with high cheek bones and twinkling eyes strolls past elegantly, clothed in a woven Lao skirt and simple shirt, with a towel regally wrapped around her head.  “Sabaidee!” she repeats again and again, smiling at each of us toothlessly.  Something about her makes me wonder if she dressed up just for us.

View from Mekong Sun deck

Returning to the Mekong Sun, our floating home, I return to the orchid-ringed sun deck and take in the soft light of the waning sun on the river.  The breeze is fresh and I marvel at how this major waterway and South East Asian lifeline can be so clean and smell so sweet in the Pacific Century.  It can’t last for long, I fear.  The Chinese and Thai have many dams planned in the next decade, and the industry that is so absent now will arrive, no doubt marring the beauty of this land and spoiling the purity of these waters. I only hope that the happiness and serenity of Khokphu village and many others along the river’s edge will survive the inevitable development ahead.

The Mekong at Dawn


Cuba: Survival with Passion

June 6, 2011

Dear Friends,

I confess, I love the stories behind a revolution. They are exciting, bold, romantic, epic. They also entail struggle, pain, blood and death.  Unlike wars between nations, revolutions attempt to throw out an old system and replace it with something fresh, more just, more virtuous. Idealism runs rampant until reality sets in and human nature, with all its foibles, takes over and finds itself once again with a system that is flawed, and often as unjust and cruel as the previous one.  Yet through this process, a national fiber is stretched, yanked, distorted, and pounded, until the country re-emerges into a new dawn, and rediscovers who it has been all along.

Dawn over Havana

There is something very distinctive about visiting a country that has lived through a revolution, and even more so when the citizens still remember the event firsthand.  The experience of strife and distress tests the human mettle, and makes those who survive stronger and more keenly focused on life’s priorities and their fundamental cultural values. The end result is a distillation of culture that conveys the soul of the place with more potency–a full embrace of authentic cultural identity.

I found this to be true in Cuba, from which I returned a few days ago.   The island nation exudes a warmth and passion that have clearly been a part of the national fiber since the beginning, but perhaps have become much more powerful over years of hardship.  Here is a people who speak of love freely, who call each other (whether lover, friend or colleague) ‘mi amor,’ who begin to move their bodies the minute they detect a musical beat, and who kiss you on your second encounter.  Feelings are not beneath the surface as they are in many cultures.

In Cuba, expressing emotion is the only way to be, to exist, even when conducting business. They pour their heart into all they do and say. There is a sincerity of purpose and pride that struck me as refreshingly pure. Whether it was the sociologist in charge of the Clinic for the Prevention of HIV/AIDS or Papa Tin who founded the Colmenita project to help children with disabilities become happy, well-adjusted teens, I marveled at the amount of heart every Cuban I met put into to their work.

Children sing and dance at the Colmenita Project

Suffering is no stranger to Cuba–traumatizing events, from the Revolution in 1959 to the Soviet Union’s pull out in 1990, have put this island nation through hell.  Yet that national fiber appears stronger than ever and an indomitable spirit endures—one that loves, dances and sings with renewed gusto.


Authenticity in Travel

May 5, 2009

Dear Friends,

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

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 21st century with all its technological advantages less authentic than one that has lingered in the 20th 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


China: Build it, and we will come. Complete it, and we can go elsewhere?

March 27, 2009

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.


India in Our Hearts

December 5, 2008

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

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NAFSA 2008

June 9, 2008

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:

  • Hisham Melhem, Washington Bureau Chief, Al-Arabiya
  • Keith Reinhard, Business for Diplomatic Action
  • Patricia de Stacy Harrison, Corporation for Public Broadcasting
  • Shashi Tharoor, former Under-Secretary-General, UN
  • 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

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    At Harvard: Part 7

    April 15, 2008

    We’ve arrived at our final week.  We “graduate” Thursday in a full ceremony with Robert Kaplan as our guest speaker (currently Acting President and Chief Executive Officer of Harvard Management Company and formerly our OPM Leadership professor). One classmate will speak on behalf of the Americans and one on behalf of those from other countries.  Spouses, children and other family members are flying in from all around the world for the event.  The excitement is building, while many are expressing sadness at our imminent parting.

    We have studied some interesting cases of late.  Chateau Margaux, the ultimate Bordeaux wine, stimulated great interest in class as we delved into whether or not Corinne Mentzelopoulos, the current thirty-something-year-old owner should consider disrupting a centuries-old distribution and marketing system (established by Napoleon III in 1855) and attempt selling her wine directly, via the internet and other avenues.  In the end, it was clear Corinne didn’t really need our help and is doing very well (considering the rest of the French wine industry).  The antiquated distribution system actually provides value in the chain–bringing cash in before the wine is mature, providing warehousing, and allowing Chateau Margaux to do what they do best, without the distraction of marketing and distribution.

    Another European case followed: Real Madrid Futbol Club.  Our marketing professor was delighted when one of our Madrid classmates presented him with a team jersey with his name on it at the beginning of class (I am sure the professor, while pleased, wished he’d gotten a bottle of Margaux in the earlier class!).  He proceeded to wear it for the duration of the session–a heated one at that.  Between the Brazilians, the Chileans, the Mexicans, the Spaniards and a lonely Italian, the debate was feisty.  Soccer is more than a sport in the rest of the world: it is passion, it is life.  All admired the ascendancy of Real Madrid as one of the top revenue-generating “futbol” teams in the world, beating Manchester United for the first time in recent years.

    Tune in next time to hear about our angel investing class–fascinating!

    Signing off from Baker Hall dorm,

    Kate Simpson

    President,
    Academic Travel Abroad

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    At Harvard: Part 6

    April 11, 2008

    We are winding down on our second week at Harvard Business School.  The Class of OPM37 is starting to realize that this may be the last time we see each other for a while (though a reunion in India next February is already in the works!).  Classmates are taking time after studying to spend evenings with each other.  Some gather over wine in the living rooms of the dorms, others escape the cafeteria to explore North End Italian restaurants.  Others still are diligently working and re-working their strategies, though the exercise was over several days ago.  As our brilliant and highly intellectual strategy professor reminded us today: “You want living strategies–not dead ones!”  The message is clear: keep at it!

    Our bouncy Finance professor finished his last class with us today.  He has led us through an Italian Leveraged Buy-Out case, an Indian-Russian brewery’s joint venture option, and an Indian auto parts manufacturer’s PIPE (private investment in public entity) deal.  What struck me in each class is how a group of 70+ business leaders (the larger group is divided in two for classes) with decades of financial experience can all hold such divergent (and strong) opinions about whether a business is successful or not, what the options are in each case, which options are good and which are bad.  Inevitably, the professor will ask us to give him a show of hands on two to three very different views, and invariably, the class is divided evenly across the board.  It confirms what I have always thought: numbers, too, can be interpreted in myriad ways.

    The big excitement today came when the final winners of the strategy exercise were announced in an auditorium large enough to fit us all (150+).   The first winner was the owner of a chain of Mexican pet stores (+KOTA). His concept is brilliant and sets itself apart with such differentiation as the publishing of 4 pet magazines, locations in high-traffic indoor malls, a one-stop shop for all your pet needs, community involvement, a very warm and caring environment, and much more.  The second winner was a coffee roaster who has left his family’s coffee business to establish a new company that will feature low-cost, Fair Trade, organic coffee and allow customized labeling.  It was clear that both winners had put their hearts and souls into their businesses.  I have no doubt they are headed for greatness.

    For fun, I attended an elective on Family Business (the vast majority of the OPM class are in family businesses), but only because the case was about Katherine & Don Graham of the Washinton Post.  I had read Katherine Graham’s book years ago and loved her story, so was curious to hear the business perspective.  The professor had interviewed the Grahams a year or two before her death and we were able to watch the video he taped.  The class, asked what we had observed in the interview, noted how deferential each Graham was to the other, how professional they remained throughout, and how modest and lacking in artifice they were.  What struck me is the way the Grahams have managed to work in partnership with non-family executives at the top for decades. This would appear to be a wise way to ensure that the business can survive a long time and is not dependent entirely on the qualifications of the next rising Graham relative. One sweet anecdote told by Don Graham described a family dinner years earlier where everyone was asked to share their life’s regret.  When it was her turn, Katherine Graham readily admitted that she wished she had gone to Harvard Business School.

    Off I go to prepare my negotiation session for tomorrow’s class!  I can’t tell you what role I will play, as it’s confidential, but will reveal all soon…

    With spring (finally) in the Boston air,

    Kate Simpson

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