Friends of ours bought a puppy. After a few days it developed a blotchy skin problem and it soon became evident that it had some sort of a skin disease. Our friends went back to the dog seller in order to inquire about the issue and to find out what they could do to improve the puppy’s condition. “Ahhh“, replied the man promptly, „just, throw it away, I’ll give you another one for free.”

Our boys got a children’s electric science set given. It’s a kind of platform with plug-in parts, batteries and light bulbs. Countless different circuits can be created and tested. The American version of the game comes with a user manual, but also with many extra parts for those who want to try out other things. The Chinese copy, however, only holds the exact parts one needs to recreate what is described in the instructions. It is obviously based on the Chinese principle of education, where learning by heart and copying an idea is encouraged (rather than thinking innovatively and working out new solutions).

In a country where much alcohol is consumed and (most) men thrive on gambling once they get going with the spirits, one of the main criteria when selecting a male work member (in our case a new night guard) is: “Do you drink alcohol?” “No.” “Ok, the job is yours .

Wendy was recently asked to come to the foreign police office. She had apparently registered some guest in a wrong way. As, with guests coming from Hong Kong (with a Hong Kong identity card), their nationality should be entered as Hong Kong China and guests from Taiwan should be entered as Taiwan China and not China Taiwan or even just China. “Maybe in 50 years time…” says the foreign police man grinning, ”maybe in 50 years.”

One of the first habits we had to break our assistant cook of, was the cutting of toe nails in the restaurant and leaving the evidence behind on the chairs. The second lesson was even harder, as it entailed to stop cutting his nose hair with the kitchen scissors. Last but not least, he had to understand that we could not possibly accept smoking cigarettes hanging from his lips and over the wok whilst cooking somebody’s meal.

When suggesting to one of our staff that he could take a whole weeks holiday (paid holiday of course, during a not so busy time), he promptly complains: “But then I won’t get my free meals here, so who will pay for my food?”

The Chinese government is working hard to support the farmers. After all, if they all migrate to the cities nobody will provide food for the many people. Therefore, some products are solely reserved for countryside folks. i.E. We wanted to buy a very cheap and very economical washing machine, but were told that this model was uniquely sold to farmers. We, on the other hand, were limited to buying washing machines that were not only expensive but also carried the most embarrassing energy consumption sticker of a “D”. None of our begging, puppy eye look and reasoning could change this decision.

Foreign immigrants should adapt to their hosts’ land, should integrate and become a bit like us. So goes the widespread attitude of us Europeans. Here in China, the issue is treated entirely different. Time and again we witness with respect and surprise, how much tolerance and openness is shown towards foreigners in China. The big difference is probably in the ratio of locals to foreigners and that no Chinese could ever begin to imagine a long nose becoming in the least bit Chinese. We are strangers and will remain just that, even after years spent in their country. A full integration is neither sought nor desired. Many foreigners are even (still) considered an asset to the community. Therefore, we are forgiven for many of our mistakes. If we don’t speak much Chinese, if we accidentally and over and over again contravene local customs and sometimes even criticize our hosts, all is accepted with much patience and understanding and makes me come to the resolution to be more complacent to foreigners in Switzerland in the future.

The latest craze in China is the employment of a so-called super-nanny. This new profession is in such high demand that those well trained nannies have to be booked and paid in the early stages of ones pregnancy. Included in her one-month-service (for which she gets a fee around five times as much as a normal nanny) is a shopping spree with the parents, during which all items for the future baby are purchased. Once the child is born, the super nanny stays with mother and newborn for 30 days. The father often moves out for a few weeks. Nanny, mother and baby share a bed in the hospital and the good fairy will do any work related to the new arrival. The mother on her behalf will try and learn as much as she can from her tutor. After all, the high investment should later pay off with an easy to take care of child and optimally prepared parents. Why not simply ask grandmother for help (as it is/was custom), we want to know. “Because they have no clue,” come the synchronized answers from several women.

“The visa service costs nothing for you, because we are now good friends.” The voice of the foreigner police man explains to a friend of ours with a smile and taps him well-meaning on his knee, “but,” he carries on mischievously, “a generous donation to my sports club would be more than appropriate!”

In our countries, children are highly celebrated and mark their birthdays with parties and gifts. The unfortunate death of a child is mourned profoundly, while we think of the future that has been taken from the deceased. In China it is quite the opposite (although in recent years with a Western influence, McDonalds and other establishments have started to offer kids parties). To date, children celebrate their birthdays minimally if at all, since they haven’t really done anything to deserve such privilege. Once people get to let’s say sixty, they start to party extensively. When a child dies, it will be buried without much fanfare. The older the deceased, the greater the grief. After all, the oldster would have spent a lifetime earning respect from others. Strange how similar we often are in many matters, yet how different in others.

A few months ago we had a very expensive water filter system installed at the hotel. The specialists took two days to finish their job and once they were packing up, we asked them to obtain an official water sample result. “Ah, no, we cannot do that,” the stunned workers replied, “the system isn’t really made to function to perfection.” What do they mean we want to know – by now we are very puzzled. It turns out that they haven’t brought the critical parts to make the filter system work properly. But we shouldn’t worry, as the way it was, it would be good enough to get the necessary approval stamps from the government inspectors. We angrily send them back to Guilin to IMMEDIATELY fetch and install the missing parts. “But you previously never asked for that, this is anything but usual,” they sulkily counter…

It is rather exciting for us, to start a new life on another planet, uh, I mean continent (or are China and the United States perhaps really from different solar systems?) in a few days. But truly spoken, it hasn’t sunk in yet. Go away from China? Every time we left Switzerland, we knew deep down that it was temporarily, that we would be back. This time we leave home, but with the knowledge of permanence. A total of seven years we have spent in Asia. It’s rather strange and impossible to grasp the feeling. It’s a bit like stepping through a door, locking it behind us and then loosing the key. For now, we hold on to the excitement of our farewell party next Monday!

China, we will miss you.

Last night, I went on a mental journey. I tried to put myself into the role of a China-greenhorn. What, I wondered, would I notice if I came for the first time to the Middle Kingdom. Or vice versa, what will we notice when we arrive back in Europe?

The supermarket. Being by now nearly half-Chinese, we whiz through the shelves of local supermarkets feeling at home. The different products are no longer alien to us, on the contrary, if a foreigner asks us about them, we are surprised that any of these things could draw somebody’s attention.

So today, for the first time, we try and walk through the supermarket with an alert consciousness. We are armed with a notepad and pen and wide open eyes.

The basement garage, which seems to serve as public toilet and waste depot as well. passes right in front of the supermarket called Ninety-nine. The number nine in China also means “long time”, 99 is therefore a very long time. Traditionally, some bridegrooms give 99 flowers to their brides (or in more recent times, 99 cuddly toys) to foresee a long marriage. We, in our turn, are preparing for a looong shopping spree.

At the entrance of the shop, located in the basement, over-brightly lit with neon lights, stand three kids machines: Imitation locomotives with a slot for a coin. Just like in our countries, the small, impatient child is perched on the seat and the loud music and rocking may begin. The newer models even include a screen on which runs a cartoon simultaneously to the fun ride. Next to the kiddies train station are lockers, as customers are not allowed to carry anything other than a handbag into the store.

A bored guard is leaning against four rusty shopping carts that have seen better times. His shoulders hang low, and when I deprive one of the trolleys from his care, he doesn’t even bother to look up. On the opposite side of him sits an equally inaccessible sales person. Her task is to guard (and the sell, should she ever get a customer) the relatively expensive alcohol and cigarettes. Most locals still shop in the much favorable fresh markets and small corner stores. The higher price of the “99″ products, so you could be mistaken to think, would be justified by a beautiful presentation. But so far, no marketing people of the supermarket chain seem to have considered this. There is waste lying around everywhere, empty boxes, noodle soup left-over and other difficult to define secretions. The paint is peeling from the walls, pipes and cables hang unprotected from the ceiling. In short, 99 doesn’t ignite the urge for a long shopping experience, but rather the “in and out in five minutes” feeling.

The first row of shelves offers local gift products. Various teas, cookies and other sweets (i.e. ginger sugar, chestnut and taro crumble, etc.). Opposite are the drinks. In particular, small tetra packs of sweet herbal tea, even sweeter fruit milks and drinks with jelly in them and of course one of China’s darlings: apple vinegar to drink. The next row houses chocolate, candies and sugar. Here we marvel at the glossily wrapped tiny candies that are stored amongst other sweets… but their appearance is deceptive. No sugar is in the silver paper, but rather small pieces of dry beef. In China, there is no separation between the main meal and sweet desserts.

The preserved fruit section is similar and boast a huge variety. Any fruit that is sold fresh, will also be dried. And they are most often enhanced with sugar, salt, and liquorice, sometimes with pepper or chillies.

The next four long shelves are crammed with preserved, spiced and vacuum packed chicken feet (a delicacy), whole fish and meat, cartilage and tofu snacks. These handy plastic packs are popular between meal eats; for one thing is sure, Chinese love snacking.

Now we come to the myriad of nuts and seeds that are sold with the most incredible flavour enhancers. And of course they are always left in their shells and husks and will be peeled by the consumer with pleasure and patience. Green tea sunflower and sweet melon seeds, we have even recently tried some bubblegum-flavoured pumpkin seeds.

Potato crisps are sold on the opposite shelf and many of them with Western style tastes such as “salt” and “barbeque”. More exotic ones are the “cucumber flavour” (my favourite) or “with mango and lime”.

Three large shelves are reserved for powder milk products. The hugest junk of the shops income comes from liqueur and baby milk and for many families this brings them near financial ruin. Advertising and gossip makes believe that a child can not flourish as well if it is not fed by Nestle and Co. There are even powder milk tins for pregnant women …. ultimately you can never start early enough! The propaganda promises super-intelligent offspring who will be at the top in school, but only if they drink the special milk powder for children up to 12 years of age. In rural areas such a tin can cost up to a fourth of an average monthly salary. Just imagine this madness!

Dog food used to be stored, but with the few pets fed to Western ideas, the left over “Pedigree” bags now collect dust unnoticed on the shelf at the bottom.

When we take the next corner, we are faced with the “land of milk and honey” of biscuits and crackers. They come filled with strawberry custards, seaweed and of course, the ever popular red bean paste. Many of the packages are made to appeal with the use of ribbons, handles, thick plastic and gloss. Then we explore the western corner: Nescafe, fresh condensed milk in tins and Heinz baby food.

The most colourful shelf of them all is the pot noodle one. Meal size cardboard pots in plastic wrappers and once you open the lid small sachets with spices, fat, dried meat and vegetables are revealed. Add hot water and the instant meal is ready. Pot noodles are incredibly popular in China, we even often see small village children on their way to school eating a fast breakfast noodle snack.

There is even a shelf for the little ones. The baby noodles come in funny shapes (a bit like our “ABC-pasta”), are cut into mouth size pieces and sometimes free of additives, a bit like an “organic” product. When Chinese babies begin to eat, they are often fed either rice porridge or noodle chicken broths.

Fresh vegetables, fruit and eggs are offered in open crates similar to how we know it, packed by the consumer and weighed and labelled with the price. However, the range is rather limited, as nearly everyone still prefers the farmers market.

At the far end of the supermarket are the shelves filled with sauces (from the simple soy sauce to the sauce with black beans and chillies). Next to them stand a few giant freezers and therein lie meat and fish balls, Chinese ravioli (dumplings) and stuffed and frozen steamed bread. The “pick’n'mix” department is huge, but seems to have the quality of total chaos. Chocolates and candies are intermixed with corn-shaped and corn flavoured jellies and bite-size plastic sachets filled with canned vegetables and meat.

Speaking of meat. We had often wondered whether the 99 supermarkets also sell fresh meat, but had never seen any. Today, Desmond discovers the hidden treasure: some still bloody pork thigh lies unwrapped in the fridge down from the Coke and Nestle yoghurts.

The entire second part of the roughly 300 m2 store is occupied with household goods and cosmetics. Even “pampers” are sold here. Sometimes we strike lucky with a box of “ob”. There are good Tupperware-like products available and a large selection of shampoos, soaps and other fragrant liquids. But we soon figure out that the sales staff of this section is paid according to sold numbers, which kind of turns them into vultures circling above potential customers and hitting down as soon as one shows the slightest bit of interest. But the man who is clearly dominating the cosmetics department and who smiles at us from packaging on all sides, is Jacky Chan. He seems to earn himself a golden nose with advertising in his home land.

Many of the brands are unknown to us, for example the shampoo range “Shitao”, however, major corporations such as Colgate (Unilever), Dettol, etc. are equally well represented.

Two check out tills face the exit (bar code systems and bank card payment machines are in place). Before them comes 99’s last attempt at selling a few useful things: electric blankets, warm jackets, condoms and Gillette shaving products (this is mainly for foreigners, as Chinese don’t have to shave), chewing gum (sugar free!), chocolate bars and bottles of fruit juices, which never seem to contain more than 30% of actual fruit juice.

The friendly cashier in her 99 t-shirt asks whether we wish to have a plastic bag, but that will cost extra, just like in Switzerland. Her colleague helps to stash the purchases (in our case mainly chocolate…) into the yellow bag, and we thank her sincerely, happy to have had a whole new experience today as pretend China-greenhorns.

As a summary of the past 2 1/2 years in China, I wanted to tell of the many, often almost insurmountable obstacles that had popped up in front of us again and again out of nowhere.

Of how shortly after our arrival two of the three waitresses left us literally over night without words.

Of how difficult it was to win the trust and cooperation of the employees.

Of how I struggled with heart problems.

Of how we had to close the hotel three times last summer.

Of how many guests were ill until after many difficult months it finally came out that the drinking water in the bottles was contaminated.

Of how a family in the village suddenly turned against us out of envy and tried to destroy us with brute force.

Of how a scooter accident of a guest nearly ended in a mass brawl outside the hotel.

And of how… stop … I could tell much more of the monstrous challenges that we faced. And believe me, they may sound minor when reading on this screen, but in reality they were anything but that. But you know what? They have already taken a back seat. They helped us to grow and understand more. The strongest momentum, however, which left us with a warming feeling around our hearts are the many interesting and extraordinary guests, we got to know. We never would have thought that there are so many incredible people!

They came from all different countries and cultures of the world. There were rich and poor. Seekers and enlightened. Travellers and stranded people. Sick, disabled and energetic. Sad and happy. There were doctors and teachers, artists, acrobats, musicians, photographers and actors. There were social workers and hermits, journalists and priests. Students and retirees. Policemen, tradesmen, businessmen and inventors. We even accommodated an astronaut.

All (or nearly all) have contributed to make the Outside Inn an oasis of rest and reflection. A meeting point of cultures and a place of tolerance. Some came as strangers and left as friends. Some were stressed and left inspired. And they strengthened our confidence in humanity and made us see a core that gives us hope for a bright future.

Time and again our guests expressed their gratitude to us for having enriched and embellished their stay. They did not realize that in fact it was them who enriched and embellished our stay. Today we would like to thank all of those guests. The flowers are for you!