Nadine Katharina Pandion

HAVE you ever asked yourself how it feels to see the world as a blank and unwritten paper? To experience the world without any judgment? Simply being someone who is ready to observe and immerse themselves in a foreign world, that was my approach to understanding Chinese culture.

I knew little about China back then, only that it has a Great Wall, excels in technology and solar energy, and that its president is Xi Jinping. That was all. But I decided to keep it this way and just be a blank paper that absorbs the colors of a culture, stroke by stroke, in order to get a full self-made portrait of China.

So here we are.

It was my first day in China. I just walked out of the airplane and everywhere there were foreign signs, which look like little art pieces to me. I did not know where to go, but luckily it was the right choice to follow the old lady from my airplane. Without her knowing, I slowly walked with her. After a lot of walking through the airport and taking a train, we made it to the baggage claim, and I no longer needed to follow her.

The lady never knew I only walked slowly to stay close to her and that she had helped me. In that moment, I wished I could speak Chinese — not just to thank her, but to let her know how her quiet presence had calmed my nerves in this sea of strangers, where  everything  felt unfamiliar.  In my mind,  I painted the first gentle brushstroke on my blank page. It looked like a kind old lady and a Chinese character at once.

While I was waiting at the baggage claim, I was amazed by the people surrounding me. I could not stop staring at them; I felt like an alien seeing humans for the first time. In addition, I had never stood out in a crowd this much before. I was the only foreigner among hundreds of Chinese people and other Asians.

I had never noticed how different my hair, skin, height, and eyes were. I am 173 cm tall, which is even below average in Germany, but here I am a giant. I remembered my older brother, who always picks on me for being “the smallest,” and now, suddenly, I wasn’t small at all.

Outside the airport, I proudly ordered a taxi by myself without any problems. However, I hadn’t considered that I would have trouble opening the car door. As the BYD Sealion 07 EV (I later found out that this was the model) approached, it didn’t have any visual door handles on the outside.

I had been mentally prepared for problems with ordering food, the language, and orientation but not for being defeated by a car door. It took me about 20 seconds of confusion before I realized that the door handles were simply different from what I was used to. When I finally figured out how to open the door, I felt strangely relieved. I had successfully solved my first challenge in China.

Here I was, driving through Shenzhen, a city with 17 million people living in it, although just 24 hours ago I was in my quiet, small hometown. As we were driving, I looked outside the window and was amazed to see the sea. The sun was high up in the sky, and the blue water shimmered with tiny sparkles. Along the roads, I noticed all these green and tropical-looking plants. I felt like I was driving through the jungle.

Furthermore, I had never seen this many tall buildings as we approached the city. I was deeply impressed by this modern city, which is only about 45 years old. It was immediately clear to me that Shenzhen was designed to balance people, nature, and technology.

In my mind, I continued drawing my picture. Now I added the colors: green, blue, and grey — the colors of a city full of life. Soon, I would add another color: a warm orange, as it reminded me of the welcoming smile of the lunch lady who would become my favorite part of every day.

The days passed, and I settled in well. Everything started to feel more familiar. I was more used to the weather, I knew which drink tasted delicious and which one should be avoided, and no longer needed Amap to find my way to the “Peking University” Metro station. It started to feel like home, and I had my everyday rhythm.

Part of that routine was my daily visit for lunch or dinner to the second canteen on the third floor of the Peking University HSBC Business School building. Every day, I climbed those stairs, and I always thought it was worth it, not just because of the comforting food that was waiting for me, but also because my favorite lunch lady worked there. Every time I saw her smile and she waved at me, it felt like being home in a foreign country. She reminded me of the bakery ladies in my hometown who had known me my whole life. In Germany, every time I entered the bakery, I would be greeted with the same warm smile as the lunch lady.

My blank paper was no longer empty. I had my own image in my mind, and it was full of colors — green, blue, grey, and now the soft orange of her smile. She was the final brushstroke that turned my image of China into something warm, familiar, and alive.

Yet I can’t help but wonder: how many more shades of this country are still waiting to be discovered?