Wanda Zeckzer

“We rose from our chairs and bowed at each other, Japanese-style. The eight of them sat on the opposite side of the table to us, leaving the middle chair empty. All looking at us, no-one speaking a word. A long minute later, a very short, rather elderly lady – also dressed in funereal black – waddled in and seated herself in the empty chair in the middle of the row, directly facing us. She smiled; well, she attempted to twist her mouth. Too much effort. Her expression reverted to seriousness. Lin, sitting next to her, now spoke and introduced her as the Managing Director. She didn’t speak any English. Nor, it transpired, did any of the others – or if they did, we would never know, as either they weren’t brave enough to try or were inhibited by the business hierarchy. A scene that could have come out of Kafka.”
― Oliver Dowson, There's No Business Like International Business: Business Travel – But Not As You Know It

“Mierda.” José screeched to a halt, and reversed to start a three-point turn – of which points two and three never materialised as, looking back, the road from where we’d come was now filled side-to-side by an advancing column of police, some with riot shields, some on horseback, marching towards us. José decided, quite reasonably in my opinion, that this wasn’t a place to be trapped so his passenger could try out his Spanish with the Venezuelan Riot Police. His solution – drive straight ahead at a tangent to the road, across a vast stretch of wasteland.”
― Oliver Dowson, There's No Business Like International Business: Business Travel – But Not As You Know It

“So, putting my faith in other passengers who told me it was definitely going to the city, I boarded a bus and spent well over an hour standing, swaying and trying to look out of the window to guess where we were. Traffic was solid, as expected. When we moved, we crawled. Eventually the bus reached somewhere that seemed significant – at least, somewhere a lot of people were getting off – and, sure enough, I was in the city, and there were taxis. The wrong side of the city, as it transpired, so a long taxi ride ensued. Nearly four hours from leaving the factory to reaching the hotel. I wasn’t doing that again.”
― Oliver Dowson, There's No Business Like International Business: Business Travel – But Not As You Know It

“In Brazil, every road, bridge and viaduct has been given a name, usually that of some long-forgotten personage who was once famous for doing something worthy. Honestly, every one of them; deeper into the country, I’ve even found unsurfaced dirt tracks given names. I’m never likely to have even five minutes of fame, but if I did, I don’t think I’d want to be remembered by a dirt track going from Nowhere Town to Obscure Village.”
― Oliver Dowson, There's No Business Like International Business: Business Travel – But Not As You Know It