Mitali’s eight years stay in China made her write a fiction, published in 2014. A few decades ago, it was a country shrouded in mysteries. Much has changed in the last few decades when it was a closed, mysterious, and intriguing destination. The first part of her serialisation of humorous essays based on real life, updated and revised, in the present context, as a Special Feature, exclusively for Different Truths.
Life is full of contradictions that become part of a comfortable new norm with the passage of time, whether it is a pandemic or a move to a new country. We adapt. It is nearly three decades since we left India with two suitcases and a bag, with plans to head back within two years. We have since then, like many others, made the world our home. In 2006, we moved to China from Singapore for eight years. China was like no country we had ever visited or lived in.
I wrote this ‘book’ sitting in my garden in China. It is a conglomeration of humorous essays on not just living in a country with a distinctive identity but also watching it develop as a major player in world history. It is the story of what it was like living as a foreigner in China in perhaps one the most progressive periods in its development as a major power. We saw empty fields turn to buildings at a fast pace. Roads and gardens laid out at breakneck speed. We experienced how quickly the locals adapted to other cultures and made us feel welcome. They picked up and ‘home grew’ our culture, our technology, took the best from the world outside and made it their own, without quite fully being absorbed it. Like Christmas and Halloween grew into huge events – though there are no holidays associated with it. But, the lucrative angle makes both these much-welcomed events in China. The locals benefitted by making these events enjoyable for foreigners. And some even joined in.
What I noticed was a distinct division in China among the resident population: the locals, with their distinct culture and history rooted in the Zhou dynasty dating back to 1800 BCE; the non-locals were a heterogeneous mix of people from all over the world. We belonged to the second category. The great thing about China was that it accepted all of us as people from outside its realm, and in that sense unified us into one group: laowai, or foreigners. To this day, gates that remained closed to local Chinese open with a smile for a laowai. They pleased us, learnt from our culture and yet continued to treat it with the dispassionate interest of a professional. They accepted us for what we were, served us with a smile at their own pace, and, despite all, still maintained their cultural integrity.
When we first stepped into China in 2006, we were still a novelty, and the local population followed us with immense curiosity. They would try to guess our nationality. Once I remember in a supermarket, they thought my eldest son was an Eskimo! My ten-year-old had studied Mandarin in school in Singapore for six years, and he could not stop laughing when he heard them discuss this among themselves.
When we first stepped into China in 2006, we were still a novelty, and the local population followed us with immense curiosity. They would try to guess our nationality. Once I remember in a supermarket, they thought my eldest son was an Eskimo! My ten-year-old had studied Mandarin in school in Singapore for six years, and he could not stop laughing when he heard them discuss this among themselves. He was our interpreter on informal occasions like these. Sometimes as I walked by the beautiful Jinji Lake near my home in the evening with my family, the locals would come up and ask me our nationality. The guesses were often bizarre. There was no animosity but childish curiosity only on part of the locals.
My experiences were unique. The first chicken I cooked in China was a black chicken – the meat and skin were black. Our driver had assured me it was what I needed and better than the normal one, while I was using my mobile to call up our relocation agent, a helpful local with a smattering of English. She was at a loss when I asked for a broiler chicken. Between her and the driver who knew no English, a rapid telephonic verbal exchange followed. Around me were also about half a dozen locals who would not stop following us despite the driver’s attempt to shoo them off. It was like a comedy when I look back. But then, it was a matter of survival. I do not know what possessed me to agree to the black chicken, which was vehemently rejected by the family when I made an Indian curry out of it!
By 2014, the Chinese had accepted us as part of their development process and treated us as part of their normal lives. Before we left in 2014, there were some pockets of “educated” youngsters who suffered from xenophobia and were nasty and mean to foreigners. However, in most countries, we do have people who resent foreigners. I don’t think we should judge the population by a minority of nasty people.
One of the most challenging aspects of living in China was the language barrier. If one learnt Mandarin, that was not enough. It did not open up communication with a large part of the population, as they used dialects. There was the time when I told my new housekeeper to cook sausages – the mandarin being Xiāngcháng – she could not understand what I wanted. She was from Suzhou and not that great in Mandarin. Her dialect was Suzhouhua.
One of the most challenging aspects of living in China was the language barrier. If one learnt Mandarin, that was not enough. It did not open up communication with a large part of the population, as they used dialects. There was the time when I told my new housekeeper to cook sausages – the mandarin being Xiāngcháng – she could not understand what I wanted. She was from Suzhou and not that great in Mandarin. Her dialect was Suzhouhua. My earlier housekeeper, who had retired back to her hometown near Xian, spoke perfect Mandarin as that is what they used in her area. Finally, when I took out the frozen sausages, my new housekeeper’s face lit up with a smile and she taught me the local name – ‘Hothhecháng’.
Living in China was an enriching and maturing experience for me. It helped me step out of clichéd beliefs and to experience the world for myself, for China did contain a microcosm of all the countries in their expat community. It helped me see how we all are the same despite our so-called national barriers. We walked out of Africa, developed our distinctive cultures, and met again in China after many centuries to find we have the same concerns underlying our superficial differences. Living in China only served to reinforce my belief in a one-world community and a society that is free from all barriers of colour, creed, and race. My children got an enriching education and an exposure to a variety of cultures, including others in addition to Chinese. They learnt about tolerance and perfection and to dream big things given all the circumstances. All our experiences were uniquely indigenous to China. I would like to share the fun we have had bringing up children and savouring this mysterious country – so different from any other I had experienced before with the whole world.
Visuals by Different Truths and book cover from the author
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