bwtexas

           Letter from Dallas:
           EAST MEETS WEST IN THE
           HEART OF TEXAS

           BusinessWeek, November 13, 1995

           It's Sunday morning, churchgoing time in the affluent suburbs
           north of Dallas, and a young minister is giving men in a Sunday
           school class tips on time management. ``Tape the Cowboys
           game on your VCR,'' he says. They can watch their beloved
           football team later on while doing something useful, such as
           ironing. He advises them to fast-forward through the
           commercials.

           The discussion turns to the Republican Presidential field,
           General Colin L. Powell, and abortion. The smartly dressed
           congregation might be at home in any well-heeled church in
           this middle-American city. The pews are packed with the kind
           of upwardly mobile Texas non-natives who have fueled the
           region's growth over the past 15 years. Expensive new cars
           pack the parking lot--a sure sign of doctors, engineers, and
           successful businesspeople inside.

           MANDARIN. But this isn't your ordinary Texas congregation.
           The newcomers aren't from Iowa or Ohio, and they're not
           named Smith or McCoy. They' re from Taiwan, Hong Kong,
           and Malaysia, and have names such as Lee and Chen. Unless
           you speak Mandarin, don't stay for the second service at the
           Dallas Chinese Bible Church.

           Drive around the sprawl of Dallas-Fort Worth's ``metroplex,''
           and you'll find scores of other Asian-American religious
           institutions. Many are new, serving a fast-growing Asian
           community. The number of Asians here has mushroomed from
           about 21,600 in 1980, or less than 1% of the Dallas-Fort Worth
           population, to nearly 80,000 in 1990, or roughly 2.8%. Now,
           local Asian leaders estimate, the number is 200,000, or 6%,
           and climbing.

           The pattern is evident in other Sunbelt cities, but it's most
           pronounced here, as Asians flock in--bypassing or leaving
           crowded, expensive, and often dangerous metropolises on the
           coasts.

           Today's influx is far different from the ``boat people'' who
           came to Dallas in the late 1970s. These newcomers have
           substantial incomes. Many have advanced degrees. Instead of
           drawing on welfare and social services, they pay taxes and
           create jobs. ``One month they're employing three people, and
           six months later they have 10,'' says Richard W. Douglas,
           president of the Greater Dallas Chamber of Commerce.

           When I moved to Dallas six months ago, I was surprised to
           learn that the area's Asian community was one of the
           fastest-growing in the U.S. After spending years in China and
           Taiwan, I considered myself familiar with the patterns of
           Asian-American life. Asians in Texas just didn' t seem to
           mesh: To me, they're urban, seafood-eating, and fond of
           miniatures. Texans are rural, beef-loving, and obsessed with
           all things big. Intrigued, I went looking for Asia-Americana on
           the Texas prairie.

           MIX OF CULTURES. That isn't easy, for in Dallas there is no
           Chinatown or Little Saigon. The new immigrants--unlike those
           who came earlier- -don't feel the need to congregate because
           they aren't stuck in an economic ghetto, says Ralph Mak, a
           Hong Kong native and editor of Dallas Chinese News, one of
           two dozen Asian-language papers in the Dallas area. Those
           arriving in the 1990s, many in their 20s and 30s, are educated,
           speak English well, and quickly blend in, as exemplified by
           Taiwan-born Anchi Ku, who works for a Dallas investment
           firm. She' s on the Texas Board of Human Services and
           campaigned for Republican Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison.

           In Dallas, a city of vast suburban tracts with only a stump of a
           downtown, Asians soon find the suburbs. They live the
           American dream in tidy ranch houses in places such as Plano,
           Garland, and Arlington. They live among whites, blacks, and
           Hispanics and seem to enjoy a comfortable mix of cultures.
           Members of the Dallas Chinese Bible Church hold giant family
           picnics. They and other new Asian-Americans love cookouts,
           but douse their barbecue with teriyaki, not tomato, sauce. They
           dance at community get-togethers--folk dances, not square
           dances or the Achy Breaky.

           Newcomers shop in supermarkets as well as Asian malls, such
           as the one in Richardson, which houses a fresh-food grocery
           (selling seven different kinds of tofu and all manner of tripe).
           The temple of the International Buddhist Progress Society
           occupies a low-rise, glass- and-steel office building wedged
           between factories that manufacture telecommunications
           equipment and computer-graphics gear.

           SILICON CITY. These high-tech companies are part of what
           draws Asians. Taiwanese engineers are a workforce staple at
           Texas Instruments, Cyrix, and Electronic Data Systems. Other
           professionals work in universities, law firms, and hospitals, or
           for import-export companies.

           In addition, there are hundreds of Asian entrepreneurs. Pat
           Chang a Chinese-American from Taiwan, founded Lucky
           Computers in Richardson, which employs 95 people to
           assemble and market personal computers. Wu Baogang, who
           came to Texas as a high-tech company executive in 1987, set
           up his own flat-panel-display manufacturer, Advanced Display
           Systems Inc., in 1992. It employs 58.

           Koreans, some of whom moved here after their businesses
           were destroyed in the 1992 Los Angeles riots, find Texas an
           easier place to do business. In California, ``too many people
           are doing the same thing and cutting each other's throats,'' says
           Korean-American Michael Mo, who moved his transportation
           business to Dallas from Los Angeles this year.

           The Texas environment encourages such relocations. Real
           estate is cheap, taxes are low, unions are weak, and local
           officials are business- oriented. For Asians, whose lives
           revolve around home and family, such attributes as safety,
           decent public schools, and affordable housing add to this city's
           attractiveness. Los Angeles, says Mo, ``is getting too
           dangerous. I have two kids. This is a safer environment, better
           for their future.''

           The lifestyle and family values here are part of a vision of the
           U.S. that resonates among Asians. At the Dallas Buddhist
           Assn., a temple affiliated with a major Taiwanese sect, Huang
           Jen-chie, a monk, tells me his impressions of life in Texas. ``I
           expected the U.S. to be morally loose and much more
           materialistic. But people here are simple folk, '' he says. When
           I observe that today's Texas seems to me much like 1950s
           America, he replies: ``We think that was a better America.''

           Asians like this ``better America,'' and tell me that they are in
           Dallas to stay. Says Chong C. Harmann, the owner of an
           apparel company and vice-president of the Korean Trade
           Association of Dallas: ``Once a Texan, always a Texan.''

JEFFREY J. HOFFMAN, EAST MEETS WEST IN THE
HEART OF TEXAS., 11-13-1995.