Bouncing back from the crisis - the Filipino way.
The young MAN'S EYES WERE FILLED WITH FEAR. A REFUGEE FROM Vietnam's harsh economy, he now seemed to be dealing with an even greater challenge. Secured by two lines, he walked gingerly along a thick piece of rope stretched between poles nearly 30 feet in the air. As he approached the opposite pole, the fear melted from his face - in its place was a look of triumph.
Marino Dizon watched on with pride. At the Philippines Refugee Processing Centre, on the rugged Bataan peninsula just west of Manila, Dizon worked with the United States government and Catholic Church to prepare refugees from the Vietnam War for a new life in the US.
Dizon taught the refugees to overcome fear by leading them through a series of outdoor challenges, such as scaling high walls as a team. "This is important work," Dizon told his co-workers when the camp closed in 1994 as the final refugees were processed. "We can't just throw these skills away."
Using ropes donated by the centre, Dizon and four others formed the company, Lubid - the Filipino word for "rope" - and offered team-building courses to non-profit organisations like the Boy Scouts. He quickly realised the company was not earning enough to pay the bills, so he decided to offer the program to corporations as well.
Soon after, Dizon was squirming nervously in the Manila conference room of one of the Philippines' top accounting firms. More comfortable climbing a mountain than talking to executives, the sturdy 20-year-old felt out of place in a suit. He had only a few minutes to convince the firm that Lubid's elaborate rope-climbing exercises would build teamwork and trust among its workers and managers.
"What tangible results do we get from jumping off a platform three storeys in the air tied to a rope?" asked one of the sceptical executives at the end of the presentation. Dizon had no response. The accounting firm turned him down flat. Nothing in Dizon's life had prepared him to stare down a group of executives. Born near a US Air Force base in Angeles City, the Philippines, Dizon dreamed of one day becoming an archeologist, a soldier or a professional sportsman. After graduating from Angeles University, he worked as a video photographer for a few years, then took a job at the refugee centre. Finally, he'd found the sort of work he'd longed for.
After the tough experience with the accounting firm, Dizon began to tailor Lubid's challenging programs to the corporate world. The same programs that helped Vietnamese kids get ready for America were redesigned to strengthen companies' marketing and management teams.
After Lubid was featured on a Philippine television show in 1996, business started rolling in. Corporate team-building programs were rare in the Philippines, and outdoor courses that dangled employees 30 feet in the air were unheard of. Companies such as Citibank, Nestlé, Johnson & Johnson and Levi Strauss were eager to try it.
When the Philippine peso collapsed in July 1997, Dizon was unfazed. His schedule was full for months with training programs for major corporations. Then, towards the end of 1997, one company after another called to cancel their team-building exercises. Companies reeling from the currency crisis were slashing budgets and laying off workers. Staff development and training programs were among the first items to go.
Within months, Lubid went from five training sessions a month to none. Several of the company's founders were looking for regular jobs and the company laid off all but one employee. Dizon pleaded with his co-founders to hang on. To save money, he even skimped on food for his wife and daughter, and walked instead of taking the bus.
In May 1998, almost out of cash, the directors decided to sell the company's late model van. This was a turning point for Dizon. "How can we do this?" he asked his colleagues at the time. "We started from nothing. When the van's gone, we're back to nothing." The others finally agreed to keep the van, though they could barely afford the fuel to run it.
But Dizon knew some serious restructuring was needed. He offered discounts to struggling companies that still wanted the service. But most importantly, he redesigned the company's programs so that they addressed the problems created by the economic crisis. So soon, employees who had seen their friends laid off were learning to trust their bosses on the side of a mountain. Former competitors who were forced to work together due to a merger were gaining confidence in each other while dangling from ropes high above the ground. "We're helping these companies bounce back," says Dizon. "Issues of trust and communication become crystal clear when you are 30 feet off the ground."
In mid-1998, corporations started calling again. Lubid lost two of its five founders to other jobs, but the company remained intact. Today, Lubid runs five training programs a month and employs 15 part-time consultants.
With the changes he sees everyday in employees who undergo his programs, Dizon says it would have been unthinkable to give up during Asia's economic crunch. "The crisis really put us to the test. We had to find out if we had what it takes to survive. We just decided that when we reached the end of our rope, we would tie a knot and hang on."