It was a veey pleasant read. What year was it? What did Chinese people think of strangers? Did you feel being a respected authority, or a curiosity for them? And for those women you describe, was a relationship with an expat nobilitating, or the contrary?
Thank you! This was in 2004. At the time, my overwhelming impression was that I was simply a curiosity to the average local on the street. Foreign faces were still relatively rare, so the instinctive cry of "laowai!" whenever someone spotted me became, in its own way, somewhat understandable.
In terms of respect, I didn’t get a strong sense either way—my differences were noticed, certainly, but not often judged, at least not outwardly. That said (and I touch on this in later chapters), your country of origin and, at times, the colour of your skin could play a big role in determining where you were placed within the unspoken hierarchy of expats.
As for relationships between older expats and younger locals, it would have been easy to make sweeping generalisations, but in my experience, it was more nuanced. I met just as many Chinese people who were keen on finding a foreign partner as I did those who viewed such relationships with scepticism. My personal view? Consenting adults are consenting adults. 😊
Thank you! Difficult to put a precise number on things at this stage, but having sketched out the first 30 chapters or so, and considering the reality of how long my story in China takes place, my current estimate is a little over 100.
Maybe a teacher was lower tier for an expat, but foreigner traders/buyers were somewhere higher, just below the business/factory owners. The wage and wealth disparity in China at that time was so extreme as to be unbelievable. People paid thousands of dollars a month mingling with people making less than a hundred, and entrepreneurs becoming multi-millionaires almost overnight. China was a Gold Rush, a Wild West, and everyone was going for it and taking all they could while they could, because it could all end with a decree tomorrow.
There was definitely an Old West feeling in those years. In certain pockets of Guangzhou, the wealth was undeniable—it was everywhere you looked. As for the Hard Rock Cafe and other similar spots, they were symbols of Guangzhou opening up as an international hub of trade and commerce. But on my teacher’s salary (3000 yuan a month back then), I had to be strategic about my visits. They were small but welcome tastes of familiarity. I also remember shopping for imported goods at the Friendship Store, or the excitement when the first Ikea and Subway opened. But honestly, I was always more at home sitting on a plastic stool at a fold-out table, slurping up 5 kuai noodles. 😄
So you grind your teeth even harder, those Hard Rock visits were company expenses... I know, I know. A factory wage in the south at that time was 100-300. One couldn't help but lose their heads a little at that time. I remember that IKEA! Good memories. Used to love Subway too; still seen around but not too many.
The only time we ever went to Guangzhou was for the International Product Fair (incorrect name) that happened I think around April (again, bad memory)? Of course we're looking for new suppliers. I remember a Hard Rock Cafe close to the exhibition center. We really looked forward to that - there were few western joints around Dongguan at the time.
There's something about those moments of transience - zipping through the streets on a motorbike or nights spent bar hopping - that really allow the mental dust to settle. Perhaps it's the detachment from a new normal that lets you see your new life from the outside in. I've never felt higher than those moments in all my travels :) thanks for sharing!
You’ve captured it perfectly—those fleeting moments of detachment, like you’re watching your own life from the outside in. That motorcycle taxi ride summed up the exhilaration and freedom of those early days abroad for me. It’s the in-between moments—when you’re not quite part of your new life but not a tourist anymore either—that seem to hold the most clarity. 😊
It was a veey pleasant read. What year was it? What did Chinese people think of strangers? Did you feel being a respected authority, or a curiosity for them? And for those women you describe, was a relationship with an expat nobilitating, or the contrary?
Thank you! This was in 2004. At the time, my overwhelming impression was that I was simply a curiosity to the average local on the street. Foreign faces were still relatively rare, so the instinctive cry of "laowai!" whenever someone spotted me became, in its own way, somewhat understandable.
In terms of respect, I didn’t get a strong sense either way—my differences were noticed, certainly, but not often judged, at least not outwardly. That said (and I touch on this in later chapters), your country of origin and, at times, the colour of your skin could play a big role in determining where you were placed within the unspoken hierarchy of expats.
As for relationships between older expats and younger locals, it would have been easy to make sweeping generalisations, but in my experience, it was more nuanced. I met just as many Chinese people who were keen on finding a foreign partner as I did those who viewed such relationships with scepticism. My personal view? Consenting adults are consenting adults. 😊
Ah, the motorbike taxis of Guangdong. I like this phrase "slurping with practised efficiency". :)
You've captured the atmosphere of the city to a new expat. Look forward to more chapters.
Thank you! I hope that phrase adequately describes the Chinese eating experience. 😂
Think you've nailed it!
Really enjoying this series, Nico. Roughly how many chapters should we expect?
Thank you! Difficult to put a precise number on things at this stage, but having sketched out the first 30 chapters or so, and considering the reality of how long my story in China takes place, my current estimate is a little over 100.
Maybe a teacher was lower tier for an expat, but foreigner traders/buyers were somewhere higher, just below the business/factory owners. The wage and wealth disparity in China at that time was so extreme as to be unbelievable. People paid thousands of dollars a month mingling with people making less than a hundred, and entrepreneurs becoming multi-millionaires almost overnight. China was a Gold Rush, a Wild West, and everyone was going for it and taking all they could while they could, because it could all end with a decree tomorrow.
There was definitely an Old West feeling in those years. In certain pockets of Guangzhou, the wealth was undeniable—it was everywhere you looked. As for the Hard Rock Cafe and other similar spots, they were symbols of Guangzhou opening up as an international hub of trade and commerce. But on my teacher’s salary (3000 yuan a month back then), I had to be strategic about my visits. They were small but welcome tastes of familiarity. I also remember shopping for imported goods at the Friendship Store, or the excitement when the first Ikea and Subway opened. But honestly, I was always more at home sitting on a plastic stool at a fold-out table, slurping up 5 kuai noodles. 😄
So you grind your teeth even harder, those Hard Rock visits were company expenses... I know, I know. A factory wage in the south at that time was 100-300. One couldn't help but lose their heads a little at that time. I remember that IKEA! Good memories. Used to love Subway too; still seen around but not too many.
The only time we ever went to Guangzhou was for the International Product Fair (incorrect name) that happened I think around April (again, bad memory)? Of course we're looking for new suppliers. I remember a Hard Rock Cafe close to the exhibition center. We really looked forward to that - there were few western joints around Dongguan at the time.
There's something about those moments of transience - zipping through the streets on a motorbike or nights spent bar hopping - that really allow the mental dust to settle. Perhaps it's the detachment from a new normal that lets you see your new life from the outside in. I've never felt higher than those moments in all my travels :) thanks for sharing!
You’ve captured it perfectly—those fleeting moments of detachment, like you’re watching your own life from the outside in. That motorcycle taxi ride summed up the exhilaration and freedom of those early days abroad for me. It’s the in-between moments—when you’re not quite part of your new life but not a tourist anymore either—that seem to hold the most clarity. 😊