Peering into the Precipice

At around the 24 month mark I’ve begun gearing up mentally for my departure from China. For me, the issue is a decline into normalcy, at which point many of the attractive features of life in China cease to exist. I think for many foreigners the first year in China is a honeymoon period; everything, even the beggars and tramps and corrupt baijiu swillers, is an intriguing crash course in Chinese ‘culture’. I think a resounding majority leave around the 12-18 month mark, having come with the intentions of a gap year between jobs, between studies and a career, between studies and more studies, etc. Leaving at this point, before the honeymoon turns to reality, they are often left with a deep longing for that magical period in China.

For those of us that stay on longer the honeymoon must, inevitably, end, and we too begin to crave that China that got our blood racing for the first year. Unfortunately, we continue to live in China and a cognitive dissonance is cultivated whereby we are constantly reminded of how our China experience has changed and evolved – not necessarily for the worse, but for the real (as opposed to the initially surreal). I’ve only recently started to drift down this path, where previously humorous ‘cultural’ differences are increasingly grating and may one day be infuriating, where life in China feels more like the 9-5 (or 9-8) grind – at those early signs my inclination is to flee, either to a newer, again-surreal pastures or to good old America, where I can grind in more humane and dignified* conditions and properly revel in my nostalgia of China without constant reminders of what it isn’t. I say this aware of the ongoing economic crisis in the West, with the belief and understanding that the current situation is already having impacts in China and the fallout in the expat community will be felt deeply, perhaps after a 12 month delay. There’s also something to be said of the inescapable appreciation of the RMB which will continue to erode incentives for expats paid in increasingly less valuable currencies, as our basics like cereal increase with local inflation and international currency fluctuations – all in all the economy is not the one and only reason to choose where to hang one’s hat.

More specifically, my decision to move is based on a push-pull of my individual career aspirations and personal passions. Regarding the career, after a year in the ESL game I decided to jump back into economics, the subject I studied, and have enjoyed the learning experience at my internship and then full position in Beijing at a consultancy. I’ve also come to the conclusion that this is the path for me (economics, not consultancy), and as such I am woefully undereducated for an ‘ideal’ position and should probably get down to business, i.e. a post-graduate degree, as soon as possible. I think this is the motivator for many others fleeing China in their mid-20′s – the recognition that an intermediate grasp of Chinese and some basic understanding how a ring-city is navigated isn’t the golden-plated qualification we once thought it would be, and that there is no easy way to skip the qualifications and certifications of most of the world’s professions that everyone else is already on track to securing.

My long time passion, skateboarding, really sealed my decision on a second year in China. My first carefree year in China was great for my skating, and I think really gilded that year as unforgettable on top of all the other unique experiences. The terrain (cities) in China is unbeatable, as is the easy going attitude of security, while the relatively smaller scene in even China’s biggest cities make it easy to feel significantly more central to the scene than is possible back home, except for the most elite or dedicated. And its a nice feeling – we should all love the chance to live vicariously and enjoy a lifestyle similar to a semi-pro at some point. But, ultimately, its a long vacation that must end, and my year of real work in Beijing has done so. While the terrain is still great, I now skateboard less than I probably would working full time in America, and as such feel less involved in the scene here than I’d like. There’s a lot to be said for cultivating a sense of community with like-minded folks, watching and supporting each other’s progression on a daily basis. While I had that during year one, in year two it more feels like I have one or two good friends (in a similarly overworked situation, with compatible schedules) and am largely detached from the rest of the community – ‘known, gets along well with others, but not frequently around enough (or, available enough when invited) to really count as ‘in”. At some point this body of mine won’t be capable any longer, but it is my sincere hope that when I stop skating indefinitely its because of a re-balancing of interests in line with an aging body rather than because my work schedule won’t allow it in an appreciable scale. In China the latter seems increasingly more likely, especially if I continue to scramble in the workforce between ‘baccalaureate’ and ‘higher than baccalaureate’.

That said, I’m currently scoping my options for further study, back home in America, in the fall of 2009. I’ll be leaving China on December 28 for South America, where I’ll be running rampant for 5 months with two very good old friends from high school, exploring, skateboarding, relearning Spanish, and enjoying life full speed with people I love. Once next spring comes we’ll see if I get into my chosen schools; if not it will be an issue of further preparatory courses and a more coordinated effort in 2010 as opposed to returning to the grind. With that timing I’ll leave China just tired enough to be happy to leave, but not soured enough that I know, within a few months or earlier, I’ll miss it dearly and hope to return in the future with a fresh perspective and zeal. I’d much rather leave in this condition than with the ax to grind so many depart with.

* I refer to life as a foreigner in China as undignified for the reason so many love it here (or abroad in general): we will never belong. As others have pointed out, we will develop many meaningful and lasting friendships, but ultimately the eyes of the society as the whole the expat will be considered an expat. This societal opinion is reinforced by the government’s policy of ‘no new citizens’, save in exceptionally rare cases of PR advantage. Whereas in our home countries we only have to justify our place in society, never our membership in society, in China the expat must do so annually with an employer’s blessing and red chop.