Foreign climes

I had a few days in Moscow last week. I've worked out there on and off over the last few years and still find it a somewhat worrying place to work. My clients and contacts seem to have a different set of rules by which they live and work - rules that I either don't understand, don't agree with, or don't notice. All of which can cause problems.

This time out, I was working on the European structure of a Russian technology firm (that's enough detail). After a fairly long day - a day during which I had tried to give an understanding of European ethics - I was invited out for dinner with the MD. Being Russia, it wasn't that simple. I was collected from my hotel by a driver who spoke no English (and my Russian is terrible) and so was unable to find out where we were going, something I find always makes me nervous. We arrived outside a fairly non-descript restaurant where I met the MD and his "people". He was a lovely man in general and I amused him in so many ways. He thought it was funny that I worked on my own (and so had no "people"). We sat at a table and drank for about 3 hours. By that time my head was spinning and I was fairly sure I was making little sense. Given that the MD was making no sense at all, this seemed to be a good assumption. Finally we stood up and went through to a different room where we, at last, started to eat. More drinks came with the food, as did a procession of different people, some of whom I was introduced to. To be honest, I'm not sure what was going on, other than that the food was reasonably good, there was far too much alcohol about and that almost everyone seemed to be laughing a lot.

At the end of the meal, the MD took me in a bear-hug, called me "friend" and escorted me to his car. "A night-cap" was one English phrase he was very keen on, and proud of using. 

It took me about 10 minutes to work out that the "bar" we ended up in was, in fact, a brothel. In my defence, I was rather drunk by this time. There was an assumption that I would, ehm, "indulge". Now I'm all in favour of cultural differences and of pleasing a client. My degree of client-pleasing, however, stops some way short of sex. Politely, I hope, I declined a statue-esque blonde and asked for a coffee. Fortunately, the MD thought that this was hilarious - and called for more vodka. The rest of the evening is rather fuzzy, but I know that I avoided any horizontal activities - and that I had a spectacular hang-over then next day. When I met him in the afternoon, the MD congratulated me on a great evening out.

Each time I go to Russia, I think I understand it, and the people, a little more. And then something happens to remind me that I really don't know that much at all.

So - the Secret Consultant's advice about working in Russia: keep your moral compass to hand, practise drinking, eat before you go out. Those should help.

SC