Written by Nicole Webb and Chao Huang, Edited by Nicole Webb Living in China, my purse was usually stuffed with wads of cash. Sadly, not because I was super rich but because I couldn’t use my non-Chinese credit cards in any stores other than those western brands like H & M and Zara (Oh dear, you feel my pain right?). And opening a bank account in China was like pulling teeth, so cash it was all the way. Counterfeit money is a huge problem (almost every cashier slides your notes through a scanner) so the biggest note made in China is 100RMB - which is equivalent to about US$14 - so you can imagine, this makes your wallet even fatter! Mind you, I wasn’t alone in my cash stashing ways; as the first country to introduce paper money in the 11th century, most of the Chinese population have long been cash converts, renowned for carrying briefcases full of cash to buy everything from jewellery to cars, even houses! A few years ago, the New York Times reported a guy showing up to a dealership in China in a beat-up old Honda carrying a black rubbish bag stuffed with cash. He bought a brand new BMW with it. In Xi'an, I heard about stories like this all the time! But it seems that's all changing...with China on track to become the first cashless society! What does that mean and how does that even work? Guest writer, my dear friend and local Chinese, Chao Huang from Xi'an, gives us the low down! A quick question: what do you take with you when you leave your house? Keys, wallet, and your phone, right? And people from China? I can tell you, most of the time, I just take my phone and just like me, there are now millions of people in China enjoying this cash-free life. You may have heard the news that some ardent 'Apple' fans in China sold one of their kidneys (sure, we have two of them - a spare one - so it isn't that big of a deal, is it?) to buy a new iPhone 4 when the revolutionary smart phone first came on the scene, sending fans into a frenzy. Of course not everyone goes to such extreme measures and most of us keep our kidneys and settle for cheaper Chinese brands like XiaoMi, Huawei and Vivo. ;) In February last year statistics showed 1.28 billion mobile phone subscriptions had been registered in China, which means more smartphone users than the US, Brazil and Indonesia, combined. It's an understatement to say that Chinese are now living in the People’s Republic of Digital. And it's no surprise that this year a study found China's smartphone users spent an average of 98 minutes a day using their phone. You might be wondering what we do with our phone given it's no secret we can’t go on Twitter, YouTube, Instagram or Google?! But let me tell you, when the internet censorship Gods handed Chinese lemons, many of the smart and diligent Chinese internet companies made so much lemonade, that most of the Chinese people don't even care about those Western websites. Super app, Taobao, is one -- and if you haven't read Nicole’s article about the company that has changed the way Chinese live, please click here. (Oh and did I tell you, I made 2.6 yuan last week just by putting my un-used money on my Alipay investment account?) Super apps in China have changed our life, blown our minds, and introduced a new era where small change and cash has been left behind. Credit cards weren't brought into China until the mid '80s, so it's fair to say, China has largely bypassed cards....and looks to be going from cash, straight to mobile! Software and gaming giant, Tencent monopolised an entire generation of Internet users in China with its clever multi-use platform WeChat. Not only can you communicate with friends via text messaging and calls, use it as a platform to share moments and pictures but it’s also your Trip Advisor, Amazon and Uber equivalent, and most importantly, your cash card. Alibaba’s Alipay digital wallet has been around since 2004 and easily trounced its US counterpart PayPal. The Alipay Wallet, currently sees 80 million transactions a day. The company has cooperated with a growing number of wet markets selling fruit and veggies, to install a QR code at each stall. What's a QR code? It's a Quick Response code which is a two dimensional barcode with a random pattern of tiny black squares against a white background, capable of holding 300 times more data than a traditional one-dimensional code. Shoppers scan the code with their phones after selecting their goods. The days of plastic buckets and polystyrene boxes filled with cash, lining the pavements are truly on their way out. In a sign of the times, everything from supermarkets to convenient stores, shopping malls, hospitals, restaurants, parking tickets and cabs can now easily be paid by the scan of a smart phone. The fact is, every morning when I go to buy breakfast at the street cart vendor, my 4RMB (US58c) Chinese jian bing (a kind of pancake with vegetables and eggs inside, which is really yummy by the way) I can just scan, beep and walk off with my pancakes! There are even reports of homeless people wearing QR code tags around their necks, so passers-by can easily give them money with a quick scan. A bridesmaid even wore a QR tag to collect gift money from guests at a wedding ceremony! The South China Morning Post reported, "Some restaurants have pinned barcode tags to the chests of waiters, waitresses and even chefs. Customers can scan the code to leave a tip if they are satisfied with service." It sounds like China's started the transition to a cash-free economy faster than anyone could have imagined, but what about those older generations so used to paying with cash? My parents and a large number of their friends (most are in their late 50s or early 60s) all own smart phones and are daily users of WeChat, but say they never use any form of digital payment. And this cultural preference for carrying large sums of cash instead of credit cards has travelled together with the new wealthy class out of China. Chinese tourists are the prime target for pickpockets and muggers because it's known they carry far more cash than visitors from other countries. This reminds me of a childhood memory whenever our family went on holidays, my parents would wrap a red cloth around their money bills and stash them inside their underwear! Today not much has changed, my mum protests, “If you go to any local markets without cash, it’s like going without wearing clothes.” (Which of course you need to stash the cash!) But it looks like she'll have to get used to bearing all, because experts say by 2030 China will be for all intents and purposes, cashless! Stay tuned. This is China. … [Read more...]
Fake Handbags, Frozen Margaritas and More than 50 Shades of Grey: My China Tribe!
My heart was broken. For a moment, it felt like I’d travelled back in time to those heady teenage years when breaking up with a boyfriend turned you into a dramatic, sobbing, pathetic mess, convinced you’d never get over him. But I’m not a teenager and this wasn’t a boyfriend, rather two female friends, who for nearly three years had known my every thought: my every high, every low and pretty much my every waking (and napping) moments. And now it was over. Here we were, our driver waiting patiently, watching on as we squeezed each other tight and called it a day. I went home and sobbed into my husband's arms. Repatriating to Australia, there’s a lot to love about the sunburnt country and I’m relishing in exploring everything again with fresh eyes. Everything old is new. Even my dear friends! (Although they may protest they’re feeling a little older as opposed to newer). There are no shortage of stories about expat life…. some hate it, most love it. Either way, if you're going to survive, you need to find your tribe. And once you find them, it’s hard to fathom life without them. You’re all in the same boat no matter what got you on it, what seas you sailed or which boat you rode in before. The sheer fact that you’ve upped stumps to live in a country that’s not your own is grounds enough for a firm friendship. My first taste of expat-hood was in Hong Kong and while there were thousands upon thousands of us, from all walks of life, drawn to the Emerald City, we had each others backs as we sailed the fragrant harbour. I found my Hong Kong family and we were there for each other through thick and thin. (And still are, I might add.) Then I moved to the middle of China, a place where expats are few and far between and there the real difficulties of going about day to day life emerged. At first I was reluctant to “put myself out there, again!" Hadn’t I just done all that in Hong Kong? I’d found my tribe, I didn’t want to be the single girl desperate for a date. But I quickly realised that attitude wasn’t going to cut it; Xi’an may be home to nine million people, but I could swear I was the only blonde in town. So it began….I scoured Facebook pages (when I could get online) stalked school playgrounds, smiled sheepishly at other mums, “yes, hello, I’m new!” “Can we be friends?” I even went on a blind date, in the hope of meeting someone to bond over coffee and hair colour woes with. She instantly became one of my tribe. And over those next few years, I needed them from the minute I woke up …to when the sun went down. Mostly to get through the sheer amount of “unusual moments” that occur in any ‘normal’ China day. Whether it’s the fact that your driver drove through a boom gate on the way to school, spilling the entire contents of your bag on the floor and your scorching lemon water on your lap and you didn’t die, or he simply does a weird six point turn in the middle of a busy school street to pick you up, with the car doors swinging wildly open. Or maybe he’s just driven with his hand on the horn for the entire 45 minute ride and your head is going to explode. And don’t even start about those recurring dreams that he speaks English. Or perhaps you woke up to fireworks erupting outside your house and a dozen stray dogs barking furiously and chooks clucking! The power is completely off or maybe your kids are sent home without notice from school due to extreme pollution levels. Or a little American boy at one of the schools has been clocked with a golf club by another kid’s parent in an act of sheer brutality and you can’t fathom the horror of it. Or your hotelier husband is having an equally tough day. So far he’s scolded someone for washing their car parts in the hotel’s water feature and another for spitting in the lobby pot plant and now someone is vacuuming in the middle of a wedding in the grand ball room and he is about to burst a blood vessel. Perhaps you accidentally see a woman squatting over the toilet, door wide open. Enough to scar you for life. All of this, you need to share... or risk being locked in a padded room. Maybe it’s so friggin’ polluted you masked up for the school run and literally sprinted to the classroom and then home again without taking a breath, only to spend another bleak winter’s day indoors, staring wistfully out at the dense, grey haze that has enveloped the city. You need to connect with the tribe to be sure there is still life out there. Perhaps your small person has got yet another nasty bout of croup after a simple cold for the fifth time this winter and you’ve run out drugs. There are no English speaking doctors and if there were they don’t have medication you need. You send a desperate text out and find one of your tribe has extra supplies and gets her driver to bring them over pronto. Or maybe one of your friend’s kids has lice… and there’s no treatment in China, so you dig out your lice saver and meet her in the carpark on a 2 degree morning to hand over the goods. Or your dog just got her period! What now? Maybe it’s visa run time and you need to psyche yourself up to be practically strip searched. Nothing is off limits, when you’re in a city that beats to a different rhythm. We are each others shot of valium in a crisis. Thank you to my best Chinese friend who ordered our pizza, always worked out the bill with the waiter at the end of the night, took us to hospitals, doctors, acupuncturists, called back for our results, made our nail appointments, and translated every text message in their indecipherable characters. Not to mention your daily education about the realities of China and the reasons why… in return we educated you on the wicked ways of the West (maybe to your detriment). To my American friend who wades through her medical drawer to dig out the last sleeping tablet for our long haul flight and has it sent over immediately, oh wait was it the other way around? Who introduced us to Halloween and ThanksGiving and pumpkin pie. In return we gave her Australia Day and Tim Tams. Who took it into her own hands to smuggle me a tamborine from KTV (Karaoke) because what girl doesn’t need her own! And is a Taobao junkie who orders double of everything because she knows you’ll want what she’s having, when a man drives up in a tuk tuk and flings a parcel at your doorstep. When you let her sit on your couch for the entire day watching the hotel’s CNN channel, shouting abuse and crying as we watch Trump become President. We could while away hours in a coffee shop, laughing until our sides split for our weekly sanity check (me often recording the saga - for research of course) until our drivers came and ferried us back to our bubble where we would hibernate from the madness, until next time… safe in the knowledge, we weren’t alone. Or perhaps we’d indulge in $3 midday Margaritas at one of the only western restaurants in town, “Tex Mex” perched at the top of a busy shopping centre where you’d be sure to run into every other expat in town, desperate for a quesadilla! Now, we’ve all spread out to our respective corners of the globe. As Winnie the Pooh said, "Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened." But without them, a little piece of my heart will always be broken. This is China. … [Read more...]
Through the Eyes of My Expat Child! Lessons Learned.
People keep saying to me, “Oh your little girl must be loving the normality of being back home in Australia.” I smile, nodding meekly, not wanting to seem ungrateful for this amazing life Down Under. Sure, she is loving all that being “home” has to offer. Who wouldn't! But then I politely interject with “But for her, this is not normal.” That piercing blue sky creating a vibrant rooftop above us, that’s seriously quite remarkable, but I've gotta be honest, all these bugs...they're really doing her head in...and she hasn't quite figured out how to cross the road, sensibly. My small person was born in the oriental kingdom of Hong Kong six years ago! Despite her Australian citizenship, blonde hair and blue eyes, she will proudly announce to all and sundry, she’s a Honky, through and through. Her preference for rice and dim sum is yet to be surpassed by pizza. Living the expat life meant that when she was just three and a half, with a mix of reluctance and anticipation, we upped stumps and left the glittering fragrant harbour of Hong Kong for more rugged (in every way) pastures in Xi’an, north west China. Wearing a mask for much of winter, even in the playground, the frenetic crowds that never seem to quiet, the neon signs brandishing bold Chinese characters that never seem to dim; the notorious traffic jams that have cars riding mere centimetres from one another… and the random strangers who hoist her up onto their shoulders in the street (without asking) for a prized photo...these are all things, to her, that until now, have been utterly normal. Not to mention, despite our best efforts, it's impossible to understand what most people are saying to you, much of the time. Living Down Under, in a westernised world, for her, is a first. So far, the continuous stream of fresh air and never ending carpet of green grass to roll in (without wondering what's in it), driving our own car from place to place wherever and whenever we may choose and strolling through the quaint neighbourhood to school… is all a joyous novelty. (As are the toy aisles in K Mart.) But what does it really mean to be an expat kid… or as they like to call you a Third Culture Kid? As with just about anything in life, there are pros and cons to growing up in a foreign country and as an expat parent you are constantly asking yourself if you're doing the right thing. Missing out on family back home is clearly the number one drawback… and is one of the major reasons, we are… 'back' after seven years abroad. Now we're here and have come through the initial teething stages, I asked my small person, what she thinks she’s learned living in these countries, now she’s had time to absorb the Aussie life. I think you’ll agree, her answers, though simple and unguarded are truly indicative of what it means to be an expat kid. HAVING FRIENDS FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD When you’re an expat child, often you’ll go to an international school, rather than a local school. Obviously it depends on the country you’re living in but if their native language is not English, the language barrier at a local school can be difficult and the education system is often not what your child is used to, particularly in China where a local school for Ava would've meant around the clock tuition, seven, long, days a week. An international school will still have a mix of local kids - in our case, many who couldn't speak English - and then a handful of people from all corners of the world. Ava’s mix of friends spanned the globe from American to English, Canadian, Welsh, German, French, Korean, Irish, Italian and of course Chinese…and that was just the kids. Her expat teachers were also from all walks of life giving her their own taste of the world. Having few expats in Xi'an meant the pond from which to choose friends was small…but it meant Ava wasn't just friends with expat kids in her year but kids from every grade and you can bet, they always had each other's back. Thats not to say she wasn't friends with the locals too. When I asked Ava if it was difficult when they couldn't speak much English, she said (in her words) “While it was frustrating on both sides not being able to always talk to all your classmates, you could still play together, Mum!” Language is no barrier when you’re on the slide or doing arts and crafts, right? How do you communicate? Simple, “You just show them or use your hands,” she says. In Australia, Ava is still getting used to having such a wide circle of friends - and mostly they all look like her! Not to mention their mums look just like me! Say it isn’t so! And they’re not arriving at school on the back of a scooter or in a Tuk Tuk. CULTURAL AWARENESS When I asked her what she remembers most about her international school, apart from her friends of course… she says, “celebrating different traditions from all over the world.” From Halloween, to Chinese New Year, the Dragon Boat Festival, the Lantern Festival and Thanksgiving, she’s seen it all and understands that "everybody is different" and we all come from different backgrounds in this diverse land. LEARNING TO ADAPT Do kids adapt easily? I often hear people say children are resilient but sometimes I’m not convinced. I won’t sugar coat it, some days have been tough for Ava. Beneath the smiles and the giggles, there are tears as she gets used to a new life, a new school, a new teacher, new friends, new rules and a new routine. But as she says, when we first went to China, she would cover her ears, the incessant honking of car horns was so loud! Two years later, she barely noticed the noise. Driving to school was always a nightmare in the bumper to bumper traffic and walking into a new school was terrifying, let alone trying to navigate the zig zagging cars, just to get to the front gate. Now she can laugh about those times our driver dropped us at school and actually stuck his hand out like superman to stop the traffic so we could cross. What school zone? No one’s uninvitingly touching her hair and pushing little XiaoWu into her side for a picture, which in those early days had the potential to send Miss Three into a right tiz. By the time she left, while she perhaps never got used to it, she learned to accept it for the harmless curiosity it was. Does she miss the attention? Apparently that's a big, fat NO, mum, with a screwed up face! (And here I was thinking I could get use to the paparazzi.) Of course there's adapting and adopting! Regularly seeing other kids relieve themselves on the side of the road, doesn't mean she follows suit.. she still chuckles at the time(s) her and daddy saw a lady squatting on the toilet with her pants down. APPRECIATING THE LUCKY COUNTRY What’s different about being back? I ask. “Well mum we don’t get things done for us… no one brings our food or cleans our house.” Um, tell me something I don't know! "We don't have big heavenly hotel beds or a big balcony," she says (covered in desert dust, I might add) and now we have to learn to do things for ourselves. Ahhh. Yeh! We do, I say through gritted teeth. But how about not having to brush our teeth with bottled water anymore! Despite being privileged with all the pleasures of a hotel at our beck and call, Ava also realises not every country is the so called "lucky country". Life is more simple here, she says…”Mum you have more friends and they all have pets!” “And there are so many more trees, less pollution and people don’t throw their rubbish or spit!” We can go to a doctor whenever we need to and speak English to him or her and get medicine with relative ease. "Mummy doesn’t fly into a complete meltdown when I get a cold… and run around checking and re-checking medicine supplies." (Just in case.) “Driving our own car is exciting because there’s English music on the radio and I can learn the words….” But being in a car seat is still a little constricting. And much to her dismay, she still has to learn mandarin! ;-) "You can’t help where you’re born though," she says and perhaps that's a fact so many of us forget. … [Read more...]
From a SkyScraper in Hong Kong to a Hotel in China and a Townhouse in Suburban Sydney: Where’s Home?
For the last seven years, as an expat, our housing situation has been anything but “normal”. For the first four years, we lived on Hong Kong’s sparkling harbour side, high up on the 43rd floor of a sprawling, shiny sky scraper in a tiny shoebox. 43 floors up seems considerably tame when you’re next to the world’s 7th tallest building, pushing 108 floors. An enormous shopping centre lurked a convenient lift ride away, sprawled out underneath our complex, complete with movie theatre, ice skating rink and the subway; next door, a mammoth construction site heaved with whirring jack hammers, day and night. It was all part of a buzzing, oriental whirlpool, we liked to call home. After that we brought it down a notch to live on the second floor of hotel residences in the middle of urban China. Bringing it down a notch only in height. We lived above a Rolls Royce showroom and outside the five star (China-style) bubble, we were flanked by shopping centres every which way, street carts full of unidentifiable foods, a 1300 year old Buddhist Pagoda; it’s tiered, concrete exterior the focal point for tourists from right across China, all year ‘round. Not to mention a bevy of unknown people, hanging out on our balcony at any given time, prone to peeking inside our windows for a sticky beak at those foreigners. Life pretty much hummed along to a backdrop of horns honking day and night and someone could always be heard shouting in mandarin …and let’s not forget the fireworks, erupting day and night! (Is it any wonder I mistook the rumble of the washing machine for fireworks the other day?!) And here we are now… a world away, down under in Sydney, Australia. Moving, was always going to be a shock to the system, as expats who've lived abroad for almost seven years - we knew adjusting would take time…And while there are days I want to crawl back into my box and be transported to my bubble in China and everything familiar, living in a fully developed country has its upsides! Everyone can understand me, for starters. There’s an urban expat myth, that puts seven years abroad as the magic number, after that, apparently, your chances of coming home are limited. Looks like we made it just in time. So far we’ve skipped from a hotel room to a temporary air b ’n’ b in inner city suburbia. After a 50 minute hair-raising car ride to school each morning in heart stopping traffic with a non-English speaking driver — walking the leafy, tree-lined street to school in seven minutes flat is an unfamiliar but pleasant concept. I’ll take the smell of grass clippings and Frangipanis over that incinerator smell of pollution any day. Everyone curiously asks why we chose to live in the particular suburb we’re in (not quite as much as we were asked why on earth we chose to live in the middle of China, I might add). Trying to decide where your future will be from afar is not easy and is a little bit like ‘eeny, meeny, miny, mo!” One friend has researched an entire town on the net, found the perfect street, with the best schools and even stalked out the neighbourhood on Facebook. (Just as long as you can see wine in the background at that neighbourhood shindig, I caution her!) For us, at this stage of the game it’s all about convenience. When one of you is starting a brand new job, and travelling and another is starting a brand new school and you’re trying to set up a new life in what is largely an unknown environment, you want to make it as easy as possible. We made a deliberate choice not to return to where we used to live a decade ago. As much as I loved my old life and the suburb will always have a piece of my heart, it’s hard to go back (oh and did I mention, ridiculously expensive). As well as asking where we're living and why, people want to know if we miss China. There's no easy answer to that but yes..and no will do. The thing we miss most about China and probably expat life (apart from our dear friends) is the adrenalin of being on a permanent adventure. I find myself awkwardly trying to explain how even a simple trip to the supermarket is an experience to be believed. As an expat coming home, that sense of adventure still needs fuelling, so somewhere new and unexplored to set up home, is appealing. Psychologists say, “people who go on multiple assignments tend to develop a global identity. They learn fairly quickly how to adjust in each place. And each new country will offer unique thrills and challenges.” Did I mention the challenges of house hunting in the world’s second most unaffordable city? For the past seven Saturdays, we’ve been up and at ‘em with a list of potential homes to start this new chapter in. Coffee in hand, we've covered every nook and cranny...the sat nav purring relentlessly, “At the roundabout take the second exit….” “Your destination is on the left!” (If you see a car driving erratically, that may be us China-dwellers). Pulling up at the 'house of the moment', we’ve gone from asking ourselves: Is she pretty? Does she have character? Where’s the walk in wardrobe? How big is the garage? to “Forget about the grass, is this small patch of concrete ok? Do we really need parking? Perhaps this bedsit will do!” Never mind about the gazillion planes flying overhead, right? Like they said in the famous movie, Castle, it’s all about “Location, location, location." In a city where the market property is so hot, it will literally melt your pockets, the competition is stiff! Come rain (the absolutely bucketing down kind) hail or shine (42 degrees worth) potential buyers have lined up in their droves, outside every. single. house. we’ve viewed. The ubiquitous real estate agent stands at the gate, her smile unwavering as everybody’s name and number is recorded as though it’s some sort of lucky draw. But we all know, it’s more like Russian Roulette. Once inside said house, the air is palpable. There’s barely a smile cracked among scrutinising viewers. Instead, there are sly, sideways glances, each potential buyer covertly checking out the competition, ears pricked…necks craning, trying to garner any tidbit of information on the seriousness of their competitors’ intentions. With your game face firmly on, no one makes eye contact, as you squeeze quietly past one another…in and out of bathrooms and down skinny hallways. Couples retreat to all corners of the property talking in hushed tones. No one dares give away their game plan. And lurking behind to butter up the agent is always a sneaky tactic. Others tap urgently on the walls, as if they’re hoping to find a magic doorway that leads to hidden treasure. Some even turn the lights off in an attempt to make the house look as dingy as possible….. oh wait that was us! Or when you set your heart on a house….stern looks are given, “Excuse me that’s my carpet your standing on with your muddy shoes!” And if you like a house, I mean really like it, you need to have your sh-t together, because if you can’t go for it there and then — you’re totally out of the game. During our military style house hunt, we sneak into an auction to see how it works, because, of course we’re newbies to this whole world. Small person grabs my skirt, hiding behind it. “What are we doing in this lounge with all these people mum? And why is he shouting??” Good question my love, there's a lot to shout about. We find the house for us in the nick of time. Time being of the essence, we see it twice for all of five minutes, before we’re pressed to make the decision of a lifetime. It’s quite fair to say, we spent more time looking at the car we just bought! Once our offer is made, we’re launched into the equivalent of the TV programme, The Amazing Race, in a bid to win the game, hotfooting it all over town to meet demands and deadlines. Then we wait. Finally we get the call, it’s ours - complete with cat flap and stairs - ultimate priorities for the Small Person. We’ve crossed the finish line by the skin of our teeth. Current challenge over. Finding our pocket amongst the madness, has meant compromises. Yet here we are about to move into a townhouse a few kilometres from the city, opposite a hairdressers (yes, ironic) and around the corner from school, a pub and a myriad of cafes. From a strapping skyscraper in Hong Kong to a 5-star hotel in China ....and now a townhouse in suburban Sydney. For now, it's our home. This is Australia. … [Read more...]
Dear China, Thanks for the Memories!
Dear China, I feel like a bit of a traitor just taking off and leaving you like that but rest assured, while I've reached out to greener (fresher) pastures, you will not be forgotten. I want to thank you for taking me into your arms two and a half years ago when I was wide eyed and let’s face it, more than a little petrified as I stood in the rain, peering up at your famous 1300 year old Pagoda, opposite our new home (the hotel), trying to understand its significance. Your world looked anything but familiar to me, and that was (surprisingly) despite having lived in the oriental harbour city of Hong Kong for four years. I smiled through clenched teeth and fought back tears as I tried to stay calm for my excited but nervous three and a half year old, who was yet to comprehend why her old world had been replaced by this new, raw version of the Orient. Back then it felt like English was rarely spoken, even in the confines of the hotel, a conversation was, at best, challenging. I remember finding that one single foreigner working there and clinging to his words like bees to honey. Outside of the hotel bubble, those early months felt like I was treading water, desperately trying to stay afloat. Routine was everything, yet we had none. A trip to two “international” schools set up for those few expats in town and wealthy Chinese had me anxious when I learned five full days in class was the norm for my Small Person, one of the few Westerners on the block. A trip to my local hairdresser for an attempt at colouring my blonde hair had me in tears. Not because I’m vain (ok, maybe a little) but because it was then I realised I was completely alone and had no clue how to communicate my thoughts to a group of people looking at me like I really was an alien. Our first visa run had me in shock as we were shoved this way and that, poked and prodded in full view of a very inquisitive audience. A bizarre visit to the local doctor who asked me for advice on which drugs I needed and then wanted a photo together! It was all indicative of everything we attempted to do in a bid to set up a life in China, in those early days. Back then, I didn’t realise that while you boast the world’s second biggest economy and churn out much of the world’s goods not to mention the world’s most travellers ….. essentially much of you is still developing, still learning and still adapting to life in the 21st Century. I soon found out that you are a nation full of contradictions. Xi’an may have been your capital for 13 dynasties, but her lack of exposure to the modern world meant for the most part, you were still learning much of what the Western world had already conquered. I learned that despite how far you’ve come, authoritarian rule is still your preferred mode of governing. Censorship is par for the course. A quick Google soon confirmed that, as did watching my television go to black regularly, simply because it was something your government wanted to shield us from. Controls over things that involve people’s safety and livelihoods though seem minimal. Smoking is still in force like it’s the 1970’s… when it comes to the roads, rules are few and far between and riding motorbikes without a helmet, with phone and at least three or four passengers (including children) is completely normal. Pollution during those winter months is literally off the radar, at least north of the Yangtze River. When you walk outside and it smells and tastes like an incinerator and pollution levels are '20 times' the healthy limit, you have no choice but to shrug, put your mask on and get on with it -- as much as your head tells you, it’s a ludicrous way to live (and some locals will tell you to "go for a run, it'll strengthen your lungs")! I’ve learned to strategically avoid those small wet patches of spit that litter the ground; and not to bat an eyelid when I see small (and big people) relieving themselves, mid squat in the middle of a busy footpath. Fast forward almost three years and like a toddler emerging into childhood, I can appreciate you’re changing and developing at a rapid pace, perhaps unparalleled in world history. English doesn’t seem as hard to come by, both spoken and written… but perhaps that’s just because I’ve added a little bit of my own Chinese into the mix to help with our communication. Those things that seemed incredibly hard are still incredibly hard, but perhaps our indifference or constant exposure to it, has made it all the more bearable. They are now just "China moments." A city of nine million that had very few restaurants and bars outside those local watering holes overflowing with spicy noodles and bbq skewers now has an abundance of new hotspots of every flavour on every corner. There is an element of the West weaving its way into society, rightly or wrongly and the nouveau riche are dividing classes like never before. Despite the hairdresser telling me I’ve got "farmers hands" one day and am a little “alien” like the next, as he rifles through my shopping bags to see "what she buys", we have become firm friends. That day I cried, clearly still etched firmly in his mind he tells me, as he bids Small Person and I farewell with bear hugs and promises to visit Australia. Those hairy car rides to school no longer have me in a state of shock…. Frank (the driver) and I have settled into a comfortable daily routine. Every morning, come rain, hail, shine (or snow) he waits downstairs, standing at the car door, ready to greet us with a smiley “Zao Shang Hao” (Good Morning), helps to buckle Small Person in as she squirms and fidgets, and off we roar into the morning chaos... Despite never having spoken a word of English bar “Ok” - he quite possibly knows more about us and vice versa than either party would care to. We know he likes to put on the morning talkback shows in Chinese while he fiddles with his beads all the way to school, weaving in and out of tuk tuks, two wheelers, and overcrowded busses, beeping the horn with gusto. We know that after dropping us off, he’ll usually sneak in a cigarette at the bus stop until he sees me coming back and then does a six point turn in the middle of a crowded school street - traffic banks up, while I wait awkwardly at the side of the road, pretending it’s all completely normal. And it is. We have reached an 'unspoken understanding' and perhaps an appreciation of each other. That's evident when my girl draws him a goodbye picture and we give him some new beads. Then there’s the security guards at the school gate that greet me with a big hello and goodbye every day, proudly in their few English words… and once in an unexpected downpour, run out to the car with me holding an umbrella over my head…yet still won't let me inside the school gates unless my I.D is hanging around my neck. My last week in China was no different to the entire two and a half years… unpredictable and challenging! If nothing else China, you are consistent in that nothing is ever straightforward! A book interview with an American-English teacher in the north of the city; a lunch with school mums from China, America and Brazil at a kitsch Chinese restaurant, overflowing with statues, local red wine, a warm drink made from dates, Peking Duck and spicy noodles. All followed by a twenty minute wait in zero temperatures (outside the school gate) and then a regular school pick up that unexpectedly becomes the end of the school term, closing abruptly due to extreme pollution levels! This also unexpectedly makes it my Small Person’s last day, ever, so I'm forever grateful her teacher has the foresight to run out at the eleventh hour and get her a goodbye cake! Then a farewell night out that ended at a “Gentleman’s Club” which isn’t as risqué as you might think! Curious to see what it was all about…we enter the shiny, new establishment (one of many that has sprung up in our local neighbourhood) all in the name of checking out the "competition!" Chandeliers, leather sofas and karaoke (China’s other love). In the spirit of a 'proper' Chinese night out, we find ourselves agreeing to hit up the microphone with a few tunes. A dozen beers are delivered and then... as an added bonus, we're treated to a line up of suitable men of all 'shapes and sizes' to choose from (including the token 'foreigner' who hails from Kazakstan)!! All for ‘company’ we're told…or as we soon find out in between giggles, a university student to sit amongst our group, make strained conversation, drink our beer, smoke cigarettes and sing the odd Chinese pop song! China, you will forever have me bamboozled by your extremes - from the overwhelming poverty that envelopes you, to the ever-increasing number of Rolls Royces cruising the streets; to the intense effort given to academic education yet lack of life guidance; to the seemingly selfish public acts yet incredible acts of kindness, to the strict censorship but overly flexible road rules; the human trafficking and domestic violence but feeling of peace and safety on the streets, to the emphasis on Guanxi (networking) and family but the inability to lose face…and those layers upon layers of ‘bureaucracy!’ China, both your complex and simple personality traits have made it possible for me to love you, yet loathe you - all in the same breath. But just as you’re changing, I hope that I am too. Still fresh out of your grip, it’s too soon to tell how you've changed me. Only time will tell. One thing’s for sure, you’ve taught me to be more open and tolerant and definitely not to sweat the small stuff. I’ve learned that trying to understand cultural differences, nuances and a country’s history is not always easy but it is the key to understanding a nation and every thread that intertwines to makes up the fabric of your society is to be appreciated. Your spirit and strength in overcoming a recent history of oppression and poverty is admirable. As different as China can at times seem from the world in which we know, and as much as that old mantra, ‘survival of the fittest’ still rings true for many of you….there is no mistaking, you have a nation of people only too willing to show an outsider kindness. And that for me, has counted for a lot. (If only someone had told us what's in the tap water sooner!) ;) It's not goodbye, it's see you later! This is China …. and you’ve stolen a little piece of my heart. … [Read more...]
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