After a month in China, I already have a few dozen anecdotes and stories to tell as practically every day brings with it new experiences. Adapting to life in Wenzhou means getting used to being stared at, having my shopping cart examined and my purchases copied, getting used to their habits and adapting my own so that I don’t offend, learning a few words of Mandarin to get by, and changing our cooking and eating styles to incorporate the local foods.

We had a pretty good idea of what to expect from having traveled in China for nine weeks a couple of years ago. But setting up a household is very different from passing through so we’re having our share of misadventures and misunderstandings. Most are resolved easily enough but there are times when the frustrations of different languages, cultures, ways of thinking, and ways of doing things can get to you.

The only thing I can do is laugh and remind myself that we’re the guests here, this is their country – so we’re the ones who have to adapt. I keep telling myself that what they do and how they do it makes sense to them even if I can’t fathom it. It’s up to me to figure out why it does make sense so that I can better understand and adopt their ways.

There are days, however, when I think I must have grown a second head, or my skin has turned green, or both. And then I remember that I’m a foreigner in Wenzhou. That means I am constantly stared at – and it’s not just a quick look and a polite look away – it’s outright staring. Because this part of China doesn’t see many Westerners, we are a novelty to its residents. In international cities like Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong people don’t give you a second look as they see foreigners every day.

When we were here for the fall holiday, Moon Festival, a couple of years back there were many country people visiting the city who had never seen a white face. We got used to being stared at and decided on a new motto: “If you don’t get stared at occasionally, you aren’t traveling right.”

On most days I just look back at the person and smile and sometimes they smile back. At other times I just ignore the stares and let them have a good look at me. Some people, especially youths who’ve studied English at school, will say ‘hello’. I always say hello back which sends them into fits of giggles. At two different times I’ve had young men say ‘Hello, welcome to China.’ And one asked me where I was from.

Most of the stares are out of curiosity but sometimes old people just scowl and I wonder what is going through their heads. Are they thinking: what are these white devils doing here; they’re ones who carved up China after the World War II as spoils of war; they fought us in Korea and Vietnam but let us be conquered by Japan; and who knows what else? They certainly have a long list of ills the Western World has imposed on them including war reparations that caused poverty and starvation, and eventually led to the rise of nationalism and, later, communism.

Generally, people have been very welcoming. Even though it’s a pain for them to deal with a person who doesn’t speak the language and must gesticulate madly to get her point across, they still smile when they see me approach. And when I say ni hao (hello) they smile even more broadly at hearing a foreigner mispronounce a little of their language.

The day I have nothing to write about our new lives in China is the day I will have completely assimilated into the Eastern ways: that should take about 150 years.

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