Foreigner-proof glass or windows are the barriers between locals and foreigners. Sometimes it's a literal wall. Most often, it's a metaphorical rift between people.
Everyone has experience being on both sides of the window. The challenge: how much you can see through the panes and filters to experience people on the other side. Not know, experience.
Living and working in a place longer than a vacation requires us to get through as much of the foreigner-proof glass as possible to survive.
The problem: it takes efforts on both sides to get through it.
It takes just as much courage to lose oneself in a foreign place as it does to crossover and encounter strangers.
Communities come up with ways distance foreigners. Put them in gated resorts that comfort their needs and speak their language. Give them a name, distinguishing us from them.
Every place has foreigner-proof glass of a sort. There's nothing wrong with that.
We want to put our best face forward to the world. We also want to protect our own identities. The glass is thicker in some places than others.
For Americans in China, the glass is thicker.
The language difference is the biggest gap. There are very few sonic similarities.
Coke isn't Coke in China. It's Ku-Ke-Kul-La, which means something more poetic like 'sparkling drink water'.
It's hard to know people when you can't pronounce their names properly. "Is the last consonant of your name the second or fourth tone?"
All over the world, people have a strong identities tied to their names. Ever call someone you know a different name by accident? How'd that work out?
Adding to the glass thickness, the Chinese have a term for foreigners, lao wai. Depending on the context, it can be harmless or a curse.
At a client dinner, Elanor, the UOP interpreter, told a story to the table in Chinese. In it, she called us "lao wai."
The chief, an American expatriate living in China for the last two decades, stopped her.
"Lao wai!? We're not lao wai."
"Yes," said Elanor.
"They don't understand 'bei ge ren' (white people)!?"
He's a classic kidder, especially with her, so we all laughed.
The glass gets thicker when called 'lao wai', but that's how we're identified.
Andy wrote a great observation about the people in Zhangpu when we're out-about-town. They wave, say hello, and don't risk getting too close.
"Keep back from the glass kids and don't feed the animals."
I don't feel victimized by the foreigner-proof glass, though. No one ever should. It's there for our comfort.
Why try to get through it then?
Living in China, the more we get through, the better it gets for us.
The more people we know in Zhangpu, the more we live in the community and make it a home.
This makes me appreciate the people who approach the glass from the Chinese side.
Everyone gets through to varying degrees. Depending on their success, they make living here comfortable and (dare I say it) enjoyable.
To show my appreciation, I'll pull back the curtains on our progress through this foreigner-proof glass.
There are different levels of success and not all encounters at the barrier have been positive. (Some people thicken the distance by covering it with shit.)
The first post focuses on the people at our home, the Wan Jia Hotel. They've made the most progress on breaking through and are most responsible for making us comfortable.
Yes, it's their jobs, but it's not work for everyone.
The second post will highlight the Zhangpuvians - the people in the city that we encounter regularly or on a one-time, memorable moment.
Despite how much or little I know about the people in these posts, no one ever breaks through the glass.
We all have cultural and personal experiences that tint and shield our worlds from the greater truth.
I will know these people better though by writing about them. These posts will remind me of the effort it takes to go deeper into a culture that isn't my own.
When we're back on the local side of the foreigner-glass, I want to be better at approaching the barricade and doing my part to get to the people who might feel foreign and detached.
NOTE: The translators aren't included in these posts. You can get to know them in my past and future posts. With them, there is no foreigner-proof glass. Even though I said no one can break through, they have or at least made it the farthest through it. There's very little separation between us on language and cultural levels. The more we spend time together, the more I realize how similar we are. That's for a later post, however.
I've taught cultural anthropology a few times, enough to appreciate the insight that your comments seem to show. Warms my heart!
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