The ancient art of name-dropping is widely practiced throughout modern China. It is a highly valued skill to know just when to use one's affiliation, however remote, with important people to elevate one's own status. More than one business deal has gone through as a result of impeccable name-dropping. Name-dropping is especially vital today because the more important your connections are, the more likely you will succeed in business. The proper subjects of name-dropping are anyone in a position of political power, rich people, celebrities, and, in fact, any person related to such people. The skill lies not in finding the proper name to drop, or in dropping a name at the most opportune time. For a name-drop to be truly successful, the right name must be dropped at exactly the right time. I have met a name-dropper at a party organized by my friend Beibei at Factory 798. Qing is a public relations executive from northeastern China.

Handing me a glass of red wine, Qing looks down at his shoes and asks me, "How do you like my new Armani? I bought them when I was traveling with our governor in Milan. They cost me five hundred dollars – three days' salary. Can you believe that?"

I am turned off right away by Qing's little demonstration of self-worth. I smile at him without saying anything.

Seeing that Armani doesn't impress me, Qing starts sharing anecdotes of playing mahjong with his city's mayor and police chief.

Again, I am not amused. Disappointed with his progress, Qing changes his strategy.

"Niuniu, what is the name of that newspaper you work for?"

"World News Agency."

Qing says instantly, "I know someone who works there. His name is Eric. He's a Harvard grad."

"Yes, he's our big boss," I say.

Qing nods with satisfaction. He has established his superiority to me.

"I'll find an appropriate time to mention you in front of him," says Qing.

"No, please don't."

"Why not? Eric is a good friend of mine."

"He's my boss's boss. I'm just a small potato. I don't really think Eric knows of my existence."

Still trying hard, Qing asks me, "Would you be interested in going to another party? The son of a vice premier is coming to that party and I have been invited. You can come as my guest."

Before I can reply, Beibei comes running up and interrupts. "Oh, the son of a vice premier is not nearly important enough for our Niuniu. Do you know that she went to school with Hu Haifeng?"

"Who's Hu Haifeng?" Qing asks.

"Do you know who Hu Jintao is?" Beibei asks.

"Of course. He's the number-one man!" says Qing.

"Hu Haifeng, Hu Jintao – do you see the relationship here?" Beibei raises her eyebrow.

I can't stand it anymore. I pull Beibei away from Qing and whisper, "Beibei, are you crazy? Hu was my classmate in middle school. We haven't talked to each other for thirteen years. I am sure he doesn't remember me."

"Oh, come on, do you think Qing is really friends with Eric?" Beibei asks me.

"You've been listening to our conversation?"

"Of course! Armani, mayor, police chief, governor, blah, blah, blah. This guy's a serial name-dropper. What a snob."

As we speak, Qing walks up to us. Before he has time to speak to us, his cell phone rings. Beibei and I listen in.

"I'm in a party with my buddy Niuniu. Yes, she is an old friend of Hu Haifeng. Hu Haifeng? You don't know him? Does the name Hu Jintao mean anything to you? Yeah, that's right…"

"Look whose name is being dropped now," Beibei says, winking at me.

"The next time you organize a party, don't forget to set a name-drop-free zone," I say to Beibei.

Many overseas Chinese returnees suffer from reverse culture shock after coming back to China. Often they have difficulty adjusting to their new lives in their homeland. CC is one good example, but her problem mainly comes from social issues, and her coworkers don't cause her trouble. She's a senior manager. Rong is different. He is having trouble getting along with his coworkers and his boss, so he asks me for advice. Surprisingly, I am considered a successful returnee among my peers as well as an expert on returnees issues since I did that big article on returnees that was reprinted several times by the Chinese media and on Chinese Web sites.

"What's happened to me, Niuniu? I feel so isolated at my workplace," says Rong, as we sit in a teahouse. "I see certain problems with the way we do things at the office, so I point out that we do it differently back in the States. But they never take my advice, even though it is obvious that my way is better. It's like nothing I say is valid."

"Well, it is not an easy task to blend back in to your own culture. If you want to be a successful returnee, there are some rules you will have to follow."

Rong listens intently.

"Rule Number One: Never construct a sentence starting with 'When I was in the United States…' People just don't like it. And, frankly, they don't care either. You will only distance yourself with such claims," I say, pretending to be a real expert.

"I see. I didn't realize they didn't like that. I guess I need to keep a low profile."

"Absolutely. Rule Number Two: Never drop English words into your conversation. And never ever ask someone, 'How do you say this in Chinese?'"

"Why?" Rong looks puzzled, as this is something that he does often and without a second thought.

"Even if you have honestly forgotten how to say something in Chinese, the locals tend to think you're faking it. They think you're just showing off and they'll resent it. Sure, they respect your education and experience in the West, but they don't like to have their noses rubbed in it. We are talking about proud, sensitive people. If you come across as too westernized, it can backfire."

"Okay! I've got it. What else?"

"Rule Number Three: Under no circumstances should you wear shorts to meet with your coworkers, even after work. Show them some respect."

Rong looks down at his bare knees below his khaki shorts. "It seems to me that I have to make a few changes. But what about me, Niuniu? What if I don't feel that I am being respected?"

"Okay. This is a tough one. You see, some Chinese think those who have returned to China came back only because they were losers in the West. So you have your work cut out for you. You might want to do some things to hint at your success. For example, you could place your UC Berkeley coffee mug on your desk."

"Oh, that is too contrived," says Rong.

"Okay, I've got a better idea," I say. "Next time you go back to California, see if you can attend one of those political fundraisers. If you can get someone to take a picture of you shaking hands with Governor Schwarzenegger, it may cost you a few thousand dollars, but it will be worth it in the long run. Hang the picture on your office wall and I am sure you'll see the difference immediately."

"So, Rule Number Four: Display photos with big shots."

"Exactly," I say, " Yale University has a China Law Center to train Chinese judges from China. In their brochure there is a photo of Bill Clinton with the center's director. You see, you're not alone, Rong. Even Yale needs help from big shots to promote their prestige in China."