Foreigners in China are required to register their residence with the police each year. Its a minor nuisance, but not that big of a deal. Theyve relaxed the restrictions somewhat in recent years (were no longer required to go back to the police station each time we re-enter the country, for example), though some local police offices havent gotten the memo. I overheard a couple of foreigners talking about how one of them was getting shaken down by the local police for a big fine (read bribe) even though he had a copy IN CHINESE of the new regulations. There are also certain areas where foreigners arent allowed to live. This is supposedly to protect us from crime, and indeed theres generally less theft in the foreigner-friendly areas. The real reason, though, is the Chinese governments overwhelming desire to control and micromanage everything. Foreigners arent supposed to rent apartments in the building where I live, though a few foreign companies have bought apartments for their employees to live in. Im the only Westerner living here, which is kind of fun but also a bit of a nuisance. Today I was out walking the dogs when a very friendly police officer greeted me with a hearty Hello! I had my poker smile on before the conversation even started. No matter which way this conversation went, it was bound to be one of those things that drive me bananas about this country — but we just have to grin and bear it. You live here? He asked in fairly good English. Where you from? I was tempted to say No, Im just walking my dogs, to see if hed leave me alone, but I thought better of it. I admitted that yes, I did. You go to police station, register? He asked. Of course, I said, struggling to keep most of my annoyance out of my voice. Which apaddmen you live? He asked, taking out a clipboard. I rolled my eyes. Ma Lei, who is much more willing to mouth off to the police than I am, has already answered this same question four or five times, during the first month we lived here. After the first two, she started getting snippy with the cop. Why should I bother to tell you, she said in effect, when you obviously arent paying any attention. She answered his questions, but in such a way that the cop stopped asking anymore. I pointed to our building and grunted, but he wanted our actual apartment number and my name. It was all very friendly, but this kind of thing drives me nuts. Now as Ive been writing this, the cops came to knock at our door and talk to Ma Lei, asking her all the same questions we answered in the first week after we moved here. Im glad theyre talking to her and not to me. ******* Slight emendation: toward the end of his conversation with Ma Lei, the cop told her that Im no longer the only pasty-faced round-eye living here. It seems a small flock of us has moved in, including a German, an Italian, and two others whose nationality I didnt catch.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Sep 2014 02:09:06 +0000
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