I leave for Zhengzhou a month from today, but I’m already getting a taste of Chinese bureaucracy.
To work in China, you need what’s called a Z visa. And to get a Z visa, you need an invitation letter and work permit from the Chinese government. To get those, you have to have a job waiting for you in China, pass a physical exam that shows you’re not going to transmit the plague or some other horrible disease, and have a skill that China deems valuable. Since I’m an English teacher, already hired by Henan University of Technology and not suffering from AIDS, smallpox or malaria, I guess I qualify.
Here’s the catch: You send your paperwork to your employer, who then sends the documents to the proper Chinese authorities. And then you wait. It’s like getting your license renewed at a New Jersey DMV office, just without the gum-cracking, nail-filing clerk. So far, I’ve been waiting over a month to get my papers, which I then have to schlep to the nearest Chinese consulate (luckily, there’s one in New York) to get my visa. And that process takes another four days or so. Which means I’ll probably have to fork out a few hundred dollars to a private company to get my visa expedited. I’m not sure if that’s an indictment of capitalism, socialism or both.
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I’m getting all kinds of advice about living in China even before I get there. First and foremost, don’t drink the water! All of China’s major rivers are heavily polluted, which means you have to boil your tap water or buy bottled water. I bought a gizmo that purifies water with UV light, but I’m sure I’ll get lazy and just rely on the bottled stuff. I’ve even been warned not to brush my teeth with tap water, which is a built-in excuse not to brush my teeth at all.
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I haven’t had much luck learning any details about my apartment in Zhengzhou, which my employer is paying for. I’m told it’s walking distance from the campus, which could mean anywhere from 500 feet to 5 miles, depending on the stamina of the person making the estimate. I’m also told that I won’t have a stove, which isn’t a great liability for someone like me whose idea of a gourmet meal is a KFC bucket. I’m wary of real Chinese food since they don’t add all those flavor enhancers that make Chinese food in the U.S. taste so good … while slowly killing you.
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I’m still trying to find out if I’ll be able to use my credit cards and ATM card in Zhengzhou. Cash is apparently still king in China, so maybe I’ll carry a huge wad of bills like a big-time drug dealer or bookie. Speaking of gambling, I can’t wait to see Macau, which is now the biggest gambling city in the world. When I was there 25 years ago, there was just one dinky casino. Now, I hear, it makes Vegas seem like Omaha. The former Portuguese colony is exempt from mainland China’s gambling ban, which itself is a joke since the Chinese love gambling almost as much as duck and ping pong.
Best of luck on your upcoming adventure!