So many times, when out and about I see foreigners… who won’t make eye
contact or greet me. I had read somewhere that many expats do not wish to ‘ruin
their authentic Chinese experience’. They tend to not mingle with people of
their own race or ethnicity unless they are somehow connected: colleagues
maybe, or perhaps their husbands work together. Possibly they even came here
together, best friends wanting to share an overseas adventure.
And then there was that one time, while enjoying an afternoon out at a
café I saw 3 young ‘foreigner’ moms chatting away, one whose baby had toddled
closer to me. Not within grabbing reach – as if I would grab anyone’s child! The
little cutie was certainly curious enough to stare long and hard across the
aisle.
Baby flirting is so fun! You smile, the baby smiles. You wave, the baby
waves. You play peek-a-boo, and the baby gives that puzzled look, as if wondering
whether the peek-a-booing adult actually thinks he/she is invisible behind
his/her hands.
The aforementioned baby and I had gotten to the ‘peek-a-boo’ stage when
his mother noticed a stranger engaging her child. She threw me a baleful look
while scooping her charge up, and admonished him not to wander away again. (See
Babies entry, posted May 2012)
As if I’d hurt any baby!!!
I’ve gotten used to what I call ‘the foreigner effect’. When I see a
non-Chinese, I will glance his/her way and, if he/she doesn’t make eye contact
or send a greeting, I won’t either. Far be it from me to ruin anyone’s authentic
Chinese experience. So imagine my surprise yesterday, while out and about, upon
espying a trim young man in a green tee-shirt munching down on a steamed bun,
not just making eye contact but maintaining it!
I wrote a while back that Wuhan has 3 subway lines: Line 1 is blue,
Line 2 is pink and Line 4 is yellow. Not sure what happened to Line 3. I also
confided that I was a bit leery of navigating the city via subway because I
mostly rely on visual clues to know when to get off the bus. Since then, after
learning names of streets and stops, I have practiced riding the subway until I
became as proficient riding trains as I am riding buses. Besides, riding the
train is much more convenient: no traffic!
On what could be the last day of fine weather before winter winds howl
down I decided to venture into a part of town I had only glanced at from a
train window. On the agenda: lunch at Burger King, train to this as yet unexplored
area, perhaps a nice tea in some shop in that neighborhood and then home to eat
a take-out dinner.
Apparently this green-shirted man had gotten off the same train I did.
We were walking the same direction, he far enough ahead of me that I did not
immediately notice him. He had crossed the street before I did, and then turned
around. His eyes locked on mine and when I came upon him, he spoke! He must be
one of those rare foreigners who do not mind sharing their wonder and awe of
China.
As it turns out, he had just gotten here a few weeks ago and was
starved for companionship, a feeling I remember well from my first months here.
Gus is very friendly, and very open about what he’s been subjected to
so far. We spent nearly a half hour, standing on the sidewalk outside a
Starbucks, talking. He confessed he was on his way into the shopping center to
buy cookware and asked where I was headed. I offered to treat him to a coffee,
which he declined. Mineral water became an acceptable compromise. It was while
enjoying that bottle of water that he told me his tale of horror.
He had been contracted by a private school to teach little children
oral English. Upon arrival in Wuhan, no one met him at the airport. He had to
find his way into town and to his school by himself. Once he arrived he was
instructed to report for class the very next day, and given a paper with a
course outline and a list of words he was expected to teach each day. He was
offered no materials, no textbooks and no support of any kind.
Still jet lagged, he was led to his apartment… that being an
exceedingly generous term for the living quarters his school provides. Less
than fifty square meters of unfurnished living space, most of the walls covered
in mold. He showed me pictures and told me he scrubbed his place for 3 days
before feeling confident enough to unpack anything. As bad as I thought my
place was when I first got here, it was nowhere near as bad as the quarters Gus
was given.
The first night he had no electricity or water. He had to scrounge for
food on his own. While out buying something to eat he bought several bottles of
water, making do with that until he could get more settled, and maybe more help
navigating the immediate needs of life from some friendly colleague or school
staff member.
I have Sam, my 24/7 liaison person who takes exceptionally good care of
me and over time has become my friend. Gus was supposed to have Tiffany, who
told him she was not his babysitter or his mother. Basically, he was left to
sink or swim as best he could on his own.
Gus earns 7,000Yuan each month to teach 6 hours per day, but has to pay
the school 1,000Yuan each month for the privilege of teaching. He also has to
pay rent and utilities on his school-provided apartment. Virtually nothing is
given him or provided to or for him, and he certainly gets no support from the school
staff. Even his passport is still in their custody, ostensibly to obtain the
working visa required by the government. The contract he had signed prior to
coming to China had been revised and he was required to sign a new contract,
vastly different from the one he signed before his arrival. He had to resort to
threatening the school officials with legal action, and only then did they
relent and at least go through the motions of doing for him.
The more he talked the more I gaped in disbelief. I had read such
horror stories as his online, posted by foreign teachers whose experiences were
nowhere near what I had been treated to. The more Gus talked, the more I
mentally compared his situation to mine. I concluded he must be a man of
fortitude to suffer all that he has endured so far and not throw in the towel,
as I no doubt would have.
And, the more he talked the more I recalled my early days here: the
loneliness, the deprivation, the confusion and fear, and longing for my loved
ones.
After sitting in the café for over 2 hours we were both ready to move
on, but I sensed Gus was not ready to let go of a friendly face. We went
shopping together. His goal was to purchase something to cook on so that he can
make an omelet for dinner. While shopping he talked of a friend he has in the
city who he never gets to see because his schedule is so tight. She works many
hours as well: ten hours per day, 6 days per week. Again I sensed his
isolation, his need to connect.
Gus selected a low end – read: cheap – electronic hotplate. Besides a
kettle, it is the only cooking appliance in his kitchen. We then went to the
grocery section, where he bought eggs, mushrooms and apples for his dinner. His
eyes agleam, he talked of the omelet he anticipated enjoying for dinner that
night. Shortly after paying for his purchases, we parted company. But not
before I caught and enjoyed the aura of triumph he sported. We exchanged
contact information and then went our separate ways.
Meeting Gus, spending that afternoon with him and sharing his glee at
doing for himself recalled all those times I returned home, exultant over some
small feat. Even now, embarking on my 4th year here I manage a coup
or two that I get giddy about. Surely the win is not as savage or as great as
any of the ones when I first came here, but they are sweet, nonetheless. I
think that, from here on out, when I do something new I’ll most likely think of
Gus, and his joy over a simple omelet.
And Sam!!! Thank all my lucky stars for Sam!! Matter of fact, thinking
back on all Gus told me I decided Sam deserves a huge ‘thank you’. With the homeward
bound bus stuck in hopelessly snarled traffic, I whipped out my phone and sent
my friend a ‘thank you’ message in 4 different languages. I did not tell him
why I was thanking him. Silly Sam! He responded with every self-effacing phrase
existent in Chinese! I roared with laughter, mindless of the other passengers
gaping at me.
I hope Gus will soon find a friend like Sam.
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