I’m Chinese. It’s Okay to Stare.
My kitchen is on the bottom floor and doesn’t have blinds or drapes to cover the windows. A few days ago, I was making a sandwich, when I looked up and saw an old man with his face pressed up against the bars, staring at me. This guy has seen me hundreds of times before outside, but today, he was utterly fascinated. Annoyed, I stopped what I was doing and stared back at him. We looked at each other for about a minute before he finally nodded. I mistook that nod to mean he would go about his business, so I went back to my sandwich. I looked up again, though, and he was still there. I put my knife down, stood, folded my arms, and stared at him again for another minute. He finally smiled, gave me a thumbs up, and left.
I hate that so much.
As a foreigner in China, the staring never goes away. It’s also something I can never get used to. I was raised to believe that staring at someone is rude. If, by chance, you do stare at someone (let’s be honest, some people are so damn weird-looking, you have to stare), it’s common courtesy to hide it. When your eyes meet, you’re supposed to quickly turn your head, as though to say, “I wasn’t staring! I’m just looking around the room! Don’t mind me! Doo dee doo dee doo!”
Chinese people don’t look away. It doesn’t even bother them when you stare back. I kept telling myself to test how long it takes for them to break, but I always got too uncomfortable and was the first one to look at something else. Well, that’s all changed, Mister. I’ve had it with the attention, and now I stare back. I won’t budge until they do, until it occurs to them that, hey, hello, I can see you, stop treating me like I don’t know what’s going on. On the bus to school today, two guys took immediate interest in me, but I just held my gaze until they finally turned their staring into nervous glances.
Unfortunately, that’s the only time that’s ever worked.
Earlier this month, I was at Hot Pot with my girlfriend. When a little girl at another table noticed there was a laowai in the room, she started taking pictures of me and giggling to her parents. I stopped eating and stared at her, waiting for her to finally get the hint. Several minutes passed, and my girlfriend asked, “What’s wrong?” I explained how the girl and her parents were making a spectacle of me. My girlfriend turned around to look at them. As soon as she did, the girl put her camera away and hid her face. Yep. It’s no big deal when the foreigner sees you staring at him. But when his Chinese girlfriend notices? Now that’s embarrassing.
Celebrating Christmas and New Years in China
A post about garbage probably wasn’t the best way to start the new year. If it’s any consolation, there may have been a Christmas card in one of those trash bags. But let’s try again. Now that the big holiday season is over, I’m feeling more homesick now than ever before. That’s what happens when you miss two Christmas / New Years celebrations in a row.
Well, these holidays aren’t entirely absent from China. All the stores have some kind of Christmas decoration up, and most people even get January 1st off (though not Christmas day). The outer aesthetic of the holiday is still there. The problem, as a foreigner, is that this season has always been about spending time with my family. And exchanging lots and lots of gifts.
In China, acknowledging a Western holiday is just an excuse for people to eat at a fancy restaurant. Their definition of fancy, though, is typically the restaurants I avoid. So my foreign friends and I went out for pizza and pool on Christmas and Japanese food and karaoke for New Years. It was the most non-traditional way I’ve ever celebrated anything. It was still nice, but… next time, I want turkey and presents.
Teachers’ Retreat and Spontaneous Favors
Every year, Changzhou holds a retreat for all the foreign teachers. Last year, it was in November and was a great way to finally meet some fellow foreigners who I would otherwise never know existed. This year, Changzhou was a little late organizing the event. It’s already mid-December, and the semester’s almost over. It’s frustrating to finally talk to new people when I’ll be going home in a month.
This retreat was a little unfocused, as well. We were given an extensive tour of a middle school nobody had heard of before, subjected to a 30-minute investment opportunity pitch for a solar energy company, and sent through an art museum where everything was readily available for purchase. Look, guys, we’re foreign teachers. We’re not made of money. Besides, wasn’t this supposed to be honoring teachers instead of soliciting them?
Another common occurrence when foreigners are invited to a party in China is to spontaneously ask them to give a performance. I was recently invited by my school to attend a banquet on Friday. After I accepted, the teacher then added, “We also want you to sing a song or do a dance.” And this happens all the time! At the retreat, we were watching a series of musical numbers when the next item on the program called for “classic foreign songs.” Guess who they wanted to sing them? Yep. Classic foreign teachers.
It pays to read the program before you sit down. Seriously, though, am I being invited as a guest or as a performer? Get it right before you extend an invitation.
Five Things I Don’t Like About China
I’ve been sitting on this list for a while, trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that’s been bothering me. Yeah, after 16 months of straight China, I’m in serious need of a break. Now before I get bombarded with comments telling me I can go home whenever I want, keep in mind that I’m still here by my own choosing, and there are still things I like about being here, too. But you don’t always get a positive post from me.
1. The attention
No matter how much I try to put myself in their shoes, I still can’t accept the staring and pointing and giggling and obnoxious “Hallooooo!” calls as anything but condescending. People have suggested moving to a bigger city, like Shanghai, to get away from the attention, but then the locals treat you like a tourist or a language opportunity, and you still don’t feel like you’re being given much respect as an individual.
2. The traffic
This is something you just never get used to. It is so unbelievable how drivers have no regard for the well-being of pedestrians. I seriously never feel safe, even when I’m using the crosswalk with the lights in my favor. Drivers (particularly e-bike drivers, who are the worst) carelessly break all the rules and still have the gumption to honk at you for not getting out of their way fast enough. Oh, it gets better. At night, they’ll even flash their brights at you.
3. The crowds
I’m from a small town in rural Utah. I find it hard to adapt to big cities, and China definitely pushes the envelope. It’s tiring and a tad frustrating having to put up with so many people everywhere you go. It’s impossible to squeeze onto the bus after 8:30, and weekends and holidays jam up the trains so much, it’s better to stay home. Unfortunately, people have taken the crowded factor as an excuse to be pushy and inconsiderate.
4. The smoking
60% of Chinese men smoke. 59% of Chinese men don’t care whether or not it bothers you. Smoking is everywhere. It’s part of the culture. Some people are convinced it’s even good for you. So very few places have no-smoking rules, and of those places, very few actually enforce them. The Chinese smoker is a persistent bugger, though, and he’ll just hide in the bathroom and make it smell even worse. Thanks, but I don’t really like dry-heaving and urinating at the same time.
5. The Internet
I didn’t want this list to become too political, but, honest to God, the Internet censorship drives me crazy. As a web developer and overall computer junkie, I’m on the Internet a lot. Some of my most frequently visited sites, however, like Youtube and Facebook and Blogspot, don’t work in China. Plus, Google periodically blocks a random search, making it hard to do something as simple as looking up teaching ideas. Workarounds exist, but I just want normal Internet.
Teachers are but Temporary Friends
Last year was a little hard for me, because I lived in a fairly remote location and couldn’t easily meet up with my friends. This year’s different. I’m closer to the downtown area, but… I have no friends. Well, okay, that’s not true, but when I scroll through my contacts list, I realize many of these people don’t even live here anymore. The problem with staying in the same Chinese city for an additional contract is that most of your friends (other foreign teachers) aren’t dumb enough to do the same. They either go back to their home country or move to another part of China to broaden their experience.
And then you have to start all over. Where’s my annual foreign teachers’ retreat?!
Changzhou does have monthly expat dinners, but most of the foreign teachers here either don’t know about them or don’t care. The majority of expats who show up for these get-togethers are businessmen. I know, some of these guys are good guys, but what helped establish friendships in the past was a common hate for teaching English. Businessmen ride in taxis and take married Chinese women out for dinner (that’s an unfair assumption, but I do hear it a lot) and don’t have the same experiences as a lowly EFL teacher. Plus, they usually come with a group of co-workers. Instant drinking buddies.
This is why, in my ancient Tips for Teaching article, I suggested bringing a friend (or spouse). Now you have someone to stay at home and watch DVDs with! Two people from Utah did come out here to teach with me this semester, but one of them is getting sent home because of visa problems, and the other (my brother) lives so far away, we can only meet up on the weekends. So when my girlfriend is sick, and my other Chinese friends have such inconvenient work schedules, I spend my free time renaming old blog posts. I dare you to read the archives.
The Night Sky in Changzhou
Ooh, spooky. Hey, that reminds me. Halloween is coming up… and yet I’m still stuck in a country that doesn’t embrace trick-or-treating. This is the second time I’m going to miss the big holiday season, and it’s finally making me a little homesick. Don’t forget that the caption contest ends the day after Halloween. At least there’s always that to look forward to!
Welcome Back, Now Go Away
Three weeks may have been a bit much, at least for a summer vacation in China. This is one hot, humid country. Every time I sat down at a computer, I couldn’t stand the heat long enough to even answer my e-mails. But now that I’m in my new apartment in Changzhou, it’s time to jump into the first inning of a long game of catch-up.
Getting this apartment wasn’t so easy, however. My school was never very clear about when classes started or when I could move in, but I figured they were smart enough to figure out I would need somewhere to live when I dropped half of my stuff off at the foreign affairs office and said, “I’ll be back in three weeks.” Well, three weeks later, I showed up only to meet a very surprised foreign affairs representative. He wasn’t expecting me to move in until the 30th. Instead of being apologetic about the misunderstanding and offering to help (by giving me the apartment or helping me find something else), he said, “It’s none of my business what you do.”
I was more agitated than normal by his indifference, because my brother had this same problem earlier that day. His school was in the process of moving to a new campus and didn’t have an apartment ready yet. They actually offered to pitch in for a hotel in the meantime, though. Mr. Dipshit at my school didn’t. He didn’t care what I did. He just wanted me to leave and not come back for five days. If this was how he and the school were going to treat me, then I didn’t want to work for them. I told him so, and he replied, “Fine. You can find another school that will hire you.”
After that note, I think he was waiting for me to fall on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness. But I didn’t. Though I was shaking inside, I simply said, “Okay.” We stared at each other for an awkward 30 seconds before his attitude suddenly changed. “All right, I’ll make some calls. I can’t guarantee anything, but I will help. Please just… wait for me to call.” And here I am. I still had to find a hotel that night, but I was able to move into the apartment the next day.
Now that everything’s settled, is it really that big of a deal to show up a week early? I’ve never had this problem with a school before. Do they honestly think a foreign teacher can move in one day and start teaching the next? Can you imagine flying to another country and having to make such a quick transition? Granted, my situation is a little different, but I’ve been traveling for three weeks straight. I’m burned out from living in hotels and waking up at 5:00 to join tour groups and wearing the same reeking clothes every day.
I’m also getting sick of Chinese people thinking it’s easy to be a foreigner. The obnoxious part about this misguided information is that the majority of offenders have never left the country and have never experienced McDonald’s in another language. China can be a very rude awakening for many Westerners. It takes time to adjust to the food, the culture, the communication barrier, the way people look at you. And somewhere in there, you’ve got to get situated into a new apartment, too.
Mr. Dipshit thought it was funny when I asked if he expected me to sleep in the street. It’s easy for him to holler from his high horse that it’s none of his business. He’s a Chinese citizen. He lives here. He speaks Chinese. For me, it’s still just as hard to get around as it was last year. I still don’t speak the language. I still don’t have a permanent place to live (nor do I know how to get one). I don’t have a car or a bike. I live with an expiration date (my visa) hanging over my head at all times. I’m just glad I have a friend, a local hotel owner, who’s willing to help me out whenever I get screwed over by someone else. His hospitality gives me hope when the rest of the country is driving me crazy.
I Hate Shopping for Clothes
Oh, big surprise. A man who doesn’t like shopping for clothes. What are you going to tell us next? You don’t like wedgies, either? My problem with clothes shopping, however, isn’t that I hate the process of looking for things to buy. Well, okay, I hate that part, too, but I actually take longer to find what I want than my girlfriend does. She’s the one who doesn’t like going shopping with me. The hangup is that I have very simple tastes which are becoming harder to find as ridiculously large brand logos are all the rage now.
The bigger hangup is that I also wear a very selective size, forever caught in that frustrating transitional period between the boys’ and the men’s sections. My wardrobe has always consisted of a meager handful of both. So when I finally do find clothes that fit, I tend to wear the hell out of them to the point where they can’t possibly be patched or sewn up anymore. The seamstresses who hang out on the streets of China give me a funny look every time I ask them to stitch my sad pants back together. “Why don’t you just give up?” they want to ask… but don’t because the money is good.
So there’s the setup. Now imagine if I had no men’s section to fall back on, and that’s how shopping in China feels. Even with my skinny build, loose-fitting clothes are hard to come by. I bought a pair of extra large pajama bottoms, and they were still too tight. Extra large was the biggest they had! I went shoe shopping today, too, and was not able to find anything that comfortably fit my average American feet. One seller tried to blame it on my socks, saying I needed to convert to a thinner brand (i.e. most Chinese brands) in order to squeeze into a pair of size 44 Nikes. 44 was the biggest they had!
I ended up buying a pair of Kappa shoes, though I don’t know why. I don’t even like them. They hurt my feet. Part of me was just desperate to finally have some new shoes. The other part of me was stupid enough to name a price and commit myself to the bargaining rigmarole. Word of warning: don’t name a price. Even if it’s low, the vendor may end up giving it to you, and then you have no choice but to accept.
Chinese shoes, as I have now discovered, are all padless pieces of crap, anyway. I only found one pair with a decent amount of cushioning, but, alas, they were the Nikes that would require me to switch sock brands and cut off my big toe (the seller didn’t mention that part, but I knew it would have to happen). Sure, you can buy additional shoe padding, but it all sucks. When my US shoes reached their breaking point, I invested a lot of time and money into mixing and matching different shoe pads and never did find the right combination.
Obviously, I have to keep my wardrobe as American as possible if I am to continue being comfortable. It’s a good thing my parents are coming in two days and are bringing some extra clothes. For Westerners who live in China long-term, though, and who didn’t stock up on clothes beforehand, I don’t know how they manage to survive.
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