Berkley Center

It’s day 42 in Beijing. I’ve settled into my dorm, oriented myself to the campus surroundings, including the bustling ximar (west) street gate lined with fruit stands, street vendors, and specialty ethnic restaurants. I’ve adjusted to the unfamiliar air quality, learned to add Beijing’s characteristic “r” sound when asking drivers to drop me off at dong mar East gate, had my fill of pork and cabbage stuffed jiaozi (dumplings), sipped red bean tapioca naicha (milk tea), and savored Beijing’s delicacy, Peking kaoya (duck).

Thousands of miles away from all that is familiar, I have set out to explore all that is new and all that is the same. My long awaited semester abroad at Minzu University has begun, and I am finally feeling comfortable in my new home. Or so I thought, until I started to sense a certain code of behavior present among the locals (in their personal and business relationships with one another) that was distinct from their interaction with outsiders (in particular, with foreigners).

I often shop at the campus grocery store and greet the cashier who knows me by name. I walk to the gym almost every day and wave to the security guard who waves back at me in return. I am comforted to know that I am not invisible to them, and I appreciate their courtesies. However, I can’t help but feel discouraged when the woman who serves me coffee every afternoon neglects to acknowledge me as a familiar face, let alone as a "regular."

Being a typical American social butterfly, I can’t help but want to get to know her and others better, but my efforts are often met with silence, passiveness, or even discomfort. What in the United States would be considered “normal” small talk is often received coldly here—seen as a distraction from a job or something not worth one’s engagement. Moreover, the forms of address used to speak to a waiter, a taxi driver, or a merchant, members of the “outer circle,” are often abrupt, aggressive, or rude by American standards. The common courtesies which are the “norm” in the United States—a respectful “good morning,” “excuse me,” or “thank you”—that are shown to everyone, regardless of social standing or personal relationship—are reserved for interactions among members of the same “inner circle.” It seems that there is a deeply ingrained sense of class and hierarchy dictating Beijing’s societal relations.

On the other hand, these observations are in sharp contrast to the warm welcome and gracious hospitality extended by my Chinese host family. My host father, a young-spirited 66 year old, is always eager to share stories and experiences over steaming pots of jasmine tea, which he brews for us in his modest home a few subway stops away from the university. His beaming smile and heartwarming laugh always make us feel at home as we talk about similarities and differences between American and Chinese culture—values of education, parenting styles, gender role expectations, societal relations, and more.

He is enthusiastic about introducing my American host siblings and I to traditional Beijing culture. In helping us prepare for the national Spring Festival holiday, he outfitted us in traditional New Year dress, vibrant red fabrics embroidered with striking gold patterns—an incredibly generous gesture that we appreciated deeply. In our host family’s company, ideas and dialogue flow freely as I am a welcomed and valued member of their “personal circle.”

In addition to time spent with my Beijing host family, I had the opportunity to celebrate the Chinese New Year in Shanghai with an equally open-minded and hospitable family. I had never met this family before (we were introduced through a friend from home), but she opened up her home and invited my study abroad friend and I to spend our holiday break with her and her two daughters in her Shanghai apartment. As we were invited into her home as part of her “inner circle” of friends, we were treated like family. We ate sugar cane together in hope of good things to come for the future, hung paper cutouts of the character fu upside down on walls and doors, symbolizing good fortune, and, at midnight set off sparklers and firecrackers with the entire neighborhood on New Year’s Eve.

Despite the many differences between my Shanghai host and myself—cultural upbringing, language, and age—we bonded over the many things that we share in common: our love for food, music, century-long traditions, and time spent with family and friends, all this being possible as our relationship with a “shared friend” allowed us to exchange ideas and celebrate our common humanity. The labels of being “American” and “Chinese” blurred as our relationship became more about the universal feelings and emotions that we all share.

In China I’ve tried to establish similar, deeper-level relationships with the people I interact with even if it often feels as if my efforts are unnoticed or unwelcome. I will continue to smile, make eye contact, and say hello, hoping that through these simple acts of kindness I will have more opportunities to be welcomed as a Beijing insider.