Little acts of kindness

I can’t imagine coming here as a tourist. My opinions of people here would be radically different. As a local in this small town, people see a foreigner and they don’t have the experience to think—oh this person has lots of money, lets see how many ways I can get their money from them. I have almost never had that experience in here in rural Taigu, and have been surprised when it happens in touristy towns, where people yell at you to buy everything in sight and charge you twice the price the locals pay.
There was one time in Beijing where I had heard a Chinese roommate bought pineapples for 5 yuan and was determined to buy one myself. But when I asked a vendor how much a pineapple was, he told me it was 5 yuan for one pineapple. As an innocent, freshly-arrived American, I was furious that he would lie to me. I yelled at him that someone had bought two for 5 yuan just down the street and stormed off. Luckily for me I’m not very good at yelling, and my angry Chinese just tends to sound like clearer, louder, carefully enunciated Chinese. He probably thought I was just bargaining, so he yelled at me as I walked away, “Okay, Okay, 5 yuan for 2, 5 yuan for 2.” I turned around and went back to him and got my pineapple. The other vendors around him were twittering and giggling. “You are a China expert, huh?” the vendor said. I didn’t feel like a China expert at all. He had looked at my face and tried to cheat me because of it. That I knew it was wrong didn’t make me a China expert.

But here in this small farm town, people haven’t met enough foreigners to think of such things. Vendors, (besides the traditional three wheeled carts that go around selling soymilk or porridge or other specialties with a loudspeaker yelling out their product a muffled, thickly accented voice) don’t yell at anyone in this town. We get treated exactly the same, if not better than other locals. We get charged the same as everyone else, and in fact, some restaurants, if we often frequent them, give us free appetizers, like a dish of roasted peanuts or a discount on the bill.

Strange that some American customs, like saying thank you after buying, or forgetting to bargain or question the seller about the accuracy of their scale or their calculations of the price come off as us being rather polite. I’ve had vegetable vendors mutter to themselves as I left their surprise at my courtesy. Perhaps our hesitant Chinese is somewhat endearing too. It makes our alien-looking faces seem more human.

The number of times the people have proved their honesty and care for us are just uncountable. People always ask if you miss home and have you adjusted to the food here, and don’t your parents miss you, and isn’t America much better than China anyway? (This is their way of showing their concern for you being homesick, far away from home, etc.)

And then there are those random little acts of kindness. I had one fruit seller run after me with the extra yuan I accidentally gave him. Another seller of porridge and soy milk held my change at the side of the booth (they were serving other people) until my friend reminded me I had forgotten to take it and I ran back. More often, I forget to bring change or enough cash to buy fruit or make copies for class. Every time, the vendor would tell me (because I often go to the same vendors), “don’t worry about it, you can pay next time.” So I would. Or sometimes, because I made so many copies, I wouldn’t have enough to print a couple extra pages and they’d just tell me don’t worry about it. It’s really a tiny amount, but that a vendor knows you well enough that they will let you not pay for some things is quite admirable.

I’ve gotten really attached to some of the vendors here. One lady who owns a small mom-and-pop store with her husband has tried to learn all of the names of all the foreigners (to no avail—she often forgets or mixes up our names). But we all forgive her forgetfulness because she’s so sweet to us. People always ask me why I take so long buying flour and rice and really it’s cause the owner of the shop is so happily talkative.

I cant tell sometimes if people are so nice because they feel bad that we are so far away from home, or because they want us to think well of china, or they are just curious and figure that talking with us is a way to understand us better. Or maybe people are just plain friendly here. Who knows. Whatever the reason, I'm really grateful for it.
It's like that sweet smile from the milk-tea lady that keeps me happy all day.