By Jessica Vartabedian (ventureoutsource.com)
[Editor’s note: All authors are paid. Share your stories (and images) about living, studying, traveling or working in China with VentureOutsource.com readers. Click here to learn more or read other readers’ stories about China. Send your story to insight[at]ventureoutsource[dot]com ]
AT THE START OF MY FINAL YEAR in college, if you asked me where I saw myself in a couple years, or even the next year, China would not have been in my answer.
I grew up in Iowa and I really hadn’t travelled much outside the United States.
I’d interviewed some in the fall of my senior year, but come January I had a new plan.
I wanted to teach English in China.
I’d learned of a company that organizes teaching and studying abroad, and their program for teaching in China. I applied and it was just three short months before my departure to China that I received my acceptance letter and placement.
My new home would be in Zhangjiagang, 张家港, a city of about 1 million people (small for Chinese standards). It was 90 miles northwest of Shanghai and more than 10,000 miles from what I had always known as home in Springville, Iowa (a town of about 1,200).
Of course, I had no clue how to even say Zhangjiagang, which took some time to learn from my Chinese friends, as I’d never taken Mandarin Chinese lessons before.
And as you might have guessed, I Googled Zhangjiagang, too.
Since it wasn’t a booming metropolis there wasn’t too much I could find when I researched it. The Wikipedia page is slowly growing.
I took any information I could get. I learned it was well known for its cleanliness and it was a role model city in the early 90’s for all of China. It was also very modern.
Upon my arrival and throughout my travels in China I learned the city I was in definitely had held up to that reputation of cleanliness. There were workers constantly cleaning the streets, picking up leaves, trash, and any other disposable items left on the streets and sidewalks.
It was later in my time there that I learned the city had been broken up into sub-cities and there was competition to see which sub-city was the cleanest.
I had arrived toward the end of August and being a Midwesterner I feel I can pride myself on being able to withstand intense heat and humidity. But in China, even central China, near Shanghai is easily a sweltering 95 degrees Fahrenheit with humidity like I’d never experienced before.
Some of the women walk around with their parasols to protect themselves from the sun’s harmful rays in hopes that they keep their skin as white as possible.
Thankfully, my apartment had a functional air conditioner, though my classroom did not. I worked in a small room equipped with nothing but a blackboard and some desks. The only type of temperature regulating device was a couple of windows.
In the main classrooms, there were air conditioners, which would also double as heaters in the winter (as most do in China). Despite the rough conditions the children were attentive, to me. Then again, so were most Chinese toward a foreigner in their city.
Any time I left the school grounds I would hear them say, “Laowai,” 老外，or “Waiguoren,” 外国人, both meaning foreigner. They would point and tell others around them in awe of me. They would also say, “Hello” and there were even occasional times where they would say, “I love you.” It wasn’t uncommon for them to take pictures of or with me, both in my city and at tourist destinations.
Most Chinese students are now learning English and a lot of them have the capability to read English, though speaking English is a bit of a rarity.
There was one instance where I was at the DaRenFa , 大润发 ，a big supermarket in Zhangjiagang, and the cashier spoke to me, in English instead of addressing the fellow Chinese with me.
This was very rare as most are too embarrassed to attempt to use their knowledge of the English language. But, they always complimented me on my efforts speaking Chinese and would be more than willing to work with me to understand what I needed.
A prime example of this and genuine friendliness involved my bicycle.
Shortly after arriving I decided it would be great to buy a bicycle, the bus system in my town was economical, (1 yuan 元 ~$.15) but the schedule varied immensely.
It wasn’t uncommon to be waiting 20 minutes or more to catch the bus.
Shortly after I purchased my bike the seat had slid down. I saw a shop that looked like it could have the tools needed to fix it, though I honestly had no idea how to fix it.
I walked in and toward the back of the store was an elderly woman eating her noodles. I said, “Wo yao,” 我要 meaning “I want,” and motioned toward the front of the store using hand gestures to show her my seat and my dilemma.
She gave me a wrench and tried to help me, but it wasn’t long before a man came by and put his hands to work on my seat.
He didn’t say much, but was able to move the seat up. As I smile and said, “Xie xie” 谢谢 , thank you, he double checked his handy work and the seat slid right back down.
It was then he said something and motioned around the corner while walking off with my bike.
After we started walking he spoke a little bit of English and told me we were going to a bicycle repair shop. When we arrived, he, along with another customer, ended up fixing my bike!
The man who owned the shop was fixing another bike, but didn’t mind that these two gentlemen used his tools and helped me. It was simple and I was astounded, this man, didn’t know me and he took the time out of his day to help me! It was such an act of kindness.
From that moment on, when I had any problems with my bike, I knew where to go and the worker always knew who I was. Despite not being able to communicate with him, he was always fair and didn’t try to take advantage of me.
I don’t think there was one single time he charged me more than 5 yuan 元， the equivalent of $.80.
Such random acts of kindness weren’t limited while I was in China.
One of my best friends in China was a fellow Chinese teacher, Bella or 冷明丽，who was often mistaken as Thai or Indian descent.
She and I went on a few trips together in China. On one, we’d sat together on the bus even though our designated seats were not together. A couple stopped near our seats and the man mentioned to his wife we were in their seats, his wife’s response was, “It’s okay, they’re our foreign friends,” and they proceeded to find seats elsewhere.
On another trip together, we bought cherries from a street vender. She was very chatty with us and excited for us and our trip to Xi’an. After she weighed the cherries and told us the total, she put a few more handfuls of cherries in and referenced it as giving me a gift, “Because she’s foreign.” Cherries were especially expensive at the supermarkets.
Another act of kindness was at a new restaurant in Zhangjiagang where Bella and I decided to try it. While eating, a lady came by and gave Bella a discount card for ten percent off our bill that day and each visit afterward. She told Bella, “You bring the foreigners.”
Across from my school there was a chicken sandwich shop that I frequented regularly. I’d run across the street just to get a pearl milk tea, zhenzhu naicha, 珍珠奶茶.
The owner was always smiling despite the long hours and poor conditions. My last night in Zhangjiagang I went to get my pearl milk tea and owner refused to take money.
She told me she would miss me and hoped I would come back soon.
Lastly, the day I was leaving my good friend Ying Ying called me to ask if I’d gone to the bus station yet. (I had visited her family the night before and her father was very sad to see me go and asked what time I was leaving. I had told him 10:00, but didn’t think to mention that the school would be taking me in their van.)
She said her father called her to find out when I was going to the bus station, but was afraid he’d miss me, so he went there without getting Ying Ying’s response. He wanted to see me off and give me some chicken legs since he knew I liked them and didn’t want me to be hungry on the bus.
There were many times her parents would invite me to eat with them and they’d prepare a table of hometown dishes insisting I continue eating well past the point of being full.
The time I spent in China, obviously unlike any other experience, gave me some insight into the character of the Chinese people and their feelings toward me, a foreigner.
Whenever the Chinese heard me say I was from America they always smiled and had something good to say.
Their curiosity was, at times, as a small child encountering something he’d never seen before. But sometimes, I ‘was’ something they’d never seen before.
I’d highly recommend a visit to China. Stray off the beaten paths and explore. There’s more to China than just the major cities where most tourists venture.
See, and experience, something unique.
About the author
Jessica Vartabedian graduated from the University of Iowa where she majored in Communication Studies. She taught ESL for 2 years in Zhangjiagang, China and hopes to leverage that experience in business in the US.
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