I think anyone who has the dream of living and working in China pictures himself or herself living in glamorous Shanghai or historical Beijing, or maybe down south in futuristic Shenzhen where the climate is subtropical. The dream probably looks something like this: hitting up a different restaurant in the area every night, signing up for a karate class or language lesson, and on the weekends, jetting off to explore the surrounding cities.
That was in my imagination, too.
However, I ended up in a small town about an hour outside of Shanghai. I chose it because of its proximity to the city, in which I preferred to live instead of Beijing. Then, once I arrived, I asked myself: would it by possible to do all that while living in a small town in China? Would I still have all the restaurants, my karate classes and language lessons, and my weekend expeditions?
Now, 9 months in, my short answer is: I can do some things, but I can’t do everything.
Living in a small town in China = (almost) the same as any other small town
Let it be known that I’ve never lived in a small town. I hail from the east end of Toronto, which is antonymous to a small town. I quickly learned that there are endearing things about living in a place so small, and things that irritate me constantly.
My town is still in Shanghai province, and only an hour away from the city, and has a population of around 100,000. It’s not some Podunk with 5,000 people. Still, that’s small enough for me.
We’ve given the restaurants that we frequent literal names, such as the Muslim Noodle Place, the Second Muslim Noodle Place (farther from our building), and the Bun Shop. If I say, “I’ll meet you at the pancake place”, or “let’s go for wontons”, my friends will know exactly where I mean. If a new restaurant or shop opens up, there will be fireworks and flowers outside their door.
So is it worth taking a job and living in a small town in China? Let’s see the cons and pros (I like giving bad news first).
CONS
Nothing to do
This is the biggest con, and I think it shows how I feel about small towns. Once you’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all. There’s not much to explore in this town after a few months. Sure, it is nice to go for a walk to the old part of town where small bridges cross the grey-green-coloured canals, and lanterns line the cobblestone streets in the evening. And sometimes, of course, I’ll come across something I never noticed before. However, living here doesn’t scream exploration the way a city does. There are a few staple places like the gym that I can frequent, but otherwise, it becomes old fast.
It takes SO long to get to the city
If I want to get to Shanghai city, it takes at least 50 minutes. That time will take me to the edge of the city, so I have add more time depending on how far into the city centre I want to go.
In the beginning, venturing into the city was an exciting way to spend the weekend. Now, it’s a process that I dread. It either involves sitting on a bus for an hour, or taking a Didi (the Uber of China) to the high-speed train station, and then a 20-minute train ride to the city. The days I spend 2 hours commuting into Shanghai for the weekend are the days that I wish I could teleport (or take a job there).
Being the only foreigners
In late August, when the new set of staff arrives for the job, the locals forget that this is a regular thing, and it’s a frenzy. You do not normally see foreigners in my town, so the foreign teachers stick out like a bad grade on a report card. I’ve never had it happen to me, but my coworkers have been stopped by locals to take pictures. Sometimes, they do it without asking. Locals will usually know you work at the International School – but they will still politely ask and try to have a conversation, which is nice.
Now that it is clear we are the only foreigners, I am now guilty of staring myself. On the rare occasion that I do see a foreigner walking the streets, I will do a double take. Sometimes, we have a conversation; other times, we’re passing to quickly, and I’m left imagining a scenario that brought them to this town.
Bigger language barrier
In Shanghai city, there are a lot more English-speakers. There aren’t as many in small towns, or English won’t be as apparent in public places. If you don’t know enough Mandarin to get by, you’ll have to rely solely on your translators. It’s a way to force you to learn, but it’s intimidating at first. This is how I learned the basics of Mandarin. I’m still learning!
PROS
Lower cost of living
I did say that one of the cons of living in a small town in China means there’s nothing to do, and it takes an hour for me to get to the city. However, the good thing about living here is that it is a lot cheaper than in Shanghai. Rent, food, transportation… everything is more affordable. Sure, the chain restaurants will be about the same price, but anything you get locally will keep your wallet more full.
The best example I can think of is movie tickets. The first movie I saw in China was Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald. A week prior, I had found a theatre in Shanghai and planned to stay in the city for the weekend while I was at it. The ticket was about 120 yuan, which is more than $20! Then, I found out that the theatre in my town, which is a ten-minute walk away from my apartment, had tickets for 30 yuan – $6! I can’t even get that price in Canada!
All in all, working full-time and living in a small town in China means that I can save a lot of money and still enjoy fun weekends in the city when I want to.
Easy commute = less stress
As a first-year teacher, the job is stressful enough already. We work long hours, and sometimes don’t leave school until the late evening. I’m happy that my commute home is only 12 minutes on my e-bike, and there is no traffic. The drive home is usually peaceful and calming. I don’t have to step onto a crowded subway or wait in bumper-to-bumper traffic. That means I can save those precious minutes and put it towards relaxing at home after work.
Becoming a regular
Yes, I have given the restaurants literal names, but the nice thing is that I’ve also befriended the owners. I send a message to the sushi owner and he has my order ready on the table when I walk in. I chat with the very talkative owner of the Szechuan Place and try to say something new to him every time. The fact that I am a foreigner in a small town allows these kind of interactions to take place. My only hope is that by the time I come back next year, my Mandarin is good enough to have a better conversation with each of them.
In the end, it depends on what kind of lifestyle you want in China. Make sure you do enough research before making a decision; that includes talking to people who have lived in those areas, and asking the most blatant questions you can. You want to make sure you keep your lifestyle as similar to the one you had at home.
In the end, I feel the best in my small town when I go for a walk on the weekend and see dozens of Chinese National tourists exploring the area. I feel a pang of happiness and pride, because: it’s my home.
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