Expats

The times, they are a-changing

By Erik Nilsson (China Daily)
Updated: 2011-06-01 08:30

Top: A foreign visitor attracts attention as she shoots pool in a street of Yan'an city, Shaanxi province, in December 1992. Above: Foreign teachers in Zhangjiagang, Jiangsu province, practice Chinese calligraphy in April. Top: Wang Wenyang / For China Daily; above: Pang Ruihe / For China Daily

It was the opportunity to trailblaze that lured American Brian Linden to China in 1984. That was why he jumped at the chance to come to the country as a Beijing Language Institute student, he says, as most restrictions on foreigners' movements in the country had just been lifted. "We truly were among the first foreigners who could break away from the major cities and explore China's hinterlands," the 48-year-old says. And, he says, he reveled in interactions with the local people.

"I still believe it was the (locals') naive curiosity that made the 1980s so special," he explains. "China was like a hungry child interested in life outside its borders."

A year after arriving, he landed a production assistant job with CBS News, which was easy at the time, he says, because of a lack of foreigners and of global interest in China.

"There was very little hard news coming out of China at that time."

So the then 22-year-old was able to access the country's top leaders, including Deng Xiaoping and Hu Yaobang.

But access to goods and services, especially Western ones, was a different story, he says.

"Our only coffee was either the brewed version at the Jianguo Hotel or Nescafe at the Beijing Hotel. There were no antiques shops, no clothes that could fit my 190-cm-tall frame, very few - if any - English-language books. There were no Western snacks and no Western movies," he recalls.

"We spent our evenings walking the dark hutong, listening to Voice of America or reading. There was little to no foreign scene."

Such austerity also extended to romance, he says. "We knew Chinese girls were off limits."

Linden believes the country's internationalized cities have lost their "exotic pull". He now lives in Xizhou village outside of Yunnan province's Dali city, where he runs the Linden Center, which is devoted to the country's lesser-known cultures.

"I have never regretted the path my life has taken since 1984, and intend to spend the rest of my life nestled in China's most beautiful region," he says.

It was a decade after Linden arrived in China that Briton Dominic Johnson-Hill landed in the country's capital for what was meant to be a stopover while traveling around the world.

"The country and Beijing felt totally undiscovered in the 1990s. That was my reason for coming - the whole mystique behind China and its culture, that it had only recently opened up to the world and there was so much potential," the 38-year-old says.

Johnson-Hill says it was this sense of discovery that delayed the next leg of his holiday - for 18 years and counting.

"You could sleep at the Ming Tombs and climb over all the history and touch it. What is now fenced off was something you could sit on and read a book on then," he recalls.

"Witnessing events that really shaped the country was also thrilling - seeing the markets open up, the creation of a middle class, people pouring in from all over the world and the formation of what will surely be a truly international city and one of the most important in the world."

And in 1993, Johnson-Hill, who was named as British Entrepreneur of the Year in 2008, saw business opportunities in those markets that were yet to open.

"It was a playground for an entrepreneur like me, who loved to take risks and carry out crazy ideas," he says. "I realized there was a need for simple market research and information about China, especially research related to North China."

So he sunk his savings into creating a network of 100 taxi drivers and kiosk owners in eight cities to help him collect basic information on goods' pricing and distribution, he says.

Based on what they gave him, he would identify wholesale markets and befriend their biggest dealers.

Johnson-Hill says he lost his customers as bigger professional players entered China in the late '90s.

"But by then I was bored of that business," he says.

So he founded his Plastered 8 T-Shirts store near the end of the decade.

"Doing business now is a lot easier," he says.

So is integrating, he explains.

"People on the street were still intrigued by foreigners in a very friendly way," he says.

"(But) as foreigners in the 1990s, we had to live in designated foreign areas or in housing that was really expensive. We had our own currency, and we had our own prices for park, plane and train tickets that were double the Chinese prices."

Johnson-Hill says the interactions among foreigners, and the kind of people who move to China, have changed, too.

"It seemed there were far more foreigners interested in, or passionate about, Chinese culture and history," he says.

American William Johnson, who arrived 10 years after Johnson-Hill, says he witnessed this transformation among the foreigners who come to China, and how they relate to Chinese and to one another.

"In 2003, the people who came here tended to stick around. Those who've come since 2008 are more about getting a sheet of paper that says, 'I worked in China for a year; hire me', " the 38-year-old says.

"They don't come to learn about China or care about China - only their careers. Many see China as dollar signs, and they get in and get out," he continues.

"Those who came in 2003 didn't do it for CV credentials. They came to understand China."

The university instructor says foreigners have also become more diffuse as their numbers have expanded, as have the ways in which they enjoy themselves.

"What we did for fun in 2003 was to see who could drink the most baijiu (Chinese liquor)," Johnson says.

"Now it's like, 'Which club do you want to go to tonight?' And the beer was Tsingtao (brand) or nothing. Now there's beer from all over the world."

While such Western staples as cheese were scarce in 2003, Beijing's culinary scene has "exploded", he says.

"One night I can eat Ethiopian, the next night Mexican, the next French and the next Brazilian," he says.

And while Chinese people have also been enjoying these international dishes, they're also engaging the natives of these cuisines' homelands in new ways.

"There's more mixing now, and nobody stares anymore," Johnson says.

Johnson says he welcomes some changes and laments others but has no plans to leave.

"Being a foreigner in China is being a foreigner in China," Johnson says.

"There's always adventure around the corner."

(China Daily 06/01/2011 page59)