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Foreigners in big cities don't realize how lucky they are

By Andrea Hunt (China Daily)
Updated: 2010-08-04 10:32

Beijing of late certainly has its modern benefits and, let's be honest, for those willing to uproot themselves to move here led by curiosity, and an impulsively purchased plane ticket, arriving in China's capital isn't as hard as moving to, say, "real China".

Now, before every foreigner in Beijing and Shanghai rises up against me, let me explain. For those of us who have braved what we consider "real China", no story of big city difficulties will ever dilute the empowerment the "real China experience" provides.

Honestly, those of you who live in China's big cities like Shanghai and Beijing don't even realize how easy you have it. Some people speak English, for starters. You have a wide selection of international foods and authentic pizza. For those of you who fail to recognize the merits of this, you have never tasted a pizza topped with peaches, shrimp, ketchup, boiled eggs and corn. Aside from culinary benefits, in big cities no one notices or stares at you or yells "Hello!" from five meters away after being dared by friends.

No, when I say "real China", I am not talking about the images of China some people in the West imagine with water buffalos and rice paddies. Nor am I talking about the metropolitan cities in constant evolution with everything Chinese and international. I am talking about small cities with around a million people. Most foreigners in China don't end up there because first and second-tier cities tempt easier with bigger salaries, wider employment options, and inarguably, convenience.

For those of us who have actually braved the "small cities" in China together, what didn't frustrate or kill us, amazed us and gave us a certain appreciation for China and something truly different, albeit a culturally isolating experience at times. Yes, I am actually talking about places where social networks become a tool for locating other foreigners in the vicinity and chasing down a blonde person from afar because, "there might be another one of us!" doesn't seem so ridiculous.

Big cities have Jenny Lou's, Metro or April Gourmet with a myriad of imported gourmet foods, and yet some newcomers complain that they can't find a decent bagel. In small towns, we know what it's like to find salvation in taking a bus to the closest second-tier city every two weeks, locating a Carrefour, and purchasing our beloved coffee, cheese, baguettes and ridiculously overpriced cereals. On that note, it eventually becomes almost incomprehensible to hear even tourists in Beijing complain how Starbucks ran out of flavoring for their "Chai-soy-vanilla-super-low-fat-latte".

Coffee and diet aside, employment in a small city gives meaning to the words, "foreign monkey". For those scratching your head, it's how you feel representing the foreign face on display to make the office or school appear more "international". It is also a consequence of poor Chinese linguistic abilities, which render you a nodding, smiling mute.

The novelty of the "real China experience" is met with challenges, definite perks and outright annoyances as a result of a simple inability to blend in. Certainly not for the timid or self-conscious, having people run out of the barber shop mid-snip, armed with mobile phone in hand, to snap a photo can make anyone a bit sheepish. Similarly, it's hard to get used to people awkwardly inspecting your supermarket cart, then yelling out the contents to the rest of the people in line, divulging such earth shattering information as your meat or toothpaste preference not to mention your choices of spices.

Even the innocuous act of sending a text message while waiting inside a train station can land you in the uncomfortably comical situation of being surrounded by hundreds of people, hovering over your mobile, with one English-literate man translating the contents of your text that reads, "SOS! There are 300 Chinese people staring at me, please, please, call me now!"

But, to be honest, it's not quite as drastic as it sounds. The Chinese small-town atmosphere creates a warm curiosity and generosity; people constantly invite you to share a meal or a drink. On the other hand, making a positive impression somehow leads to Chinese drinking games involving dice or cards and what seems like dozens of small beer shots with the citizenry. Inarguably, there is no shortage of hospitable Chinese people willing to share their language, culture, food and drink, or even their delight in watching you use chopsticks or hearing your ill-attempted crooning skills.

However, much as I cherished the people and the overall experience of having proved to myself that I can hack it in "real China", I could never really go back there.

I have now been spoiled by good coffee and fresh tortillas and can hardly remember the days where I used to literally hoard a bag of Goldfish cheese crackers or Kraft macaroni and cheese for months at a time waiting for the perfect occasion to open them. While I do think it makes the China experience more authentic, I don't know it's necessarily what everyone needs. But would I ever consider taking it all back, to relive my first year in China differently? Not a chance.