If I had first moved to China in the digital age, the face smack emoji would have punctuated many of my communications with people back home as I experienced a culture quite different from my own. At the outset, perhaps the most obvious difference was the Chinese sense of privacy. Like any other foreigner, I quickly became accustomed to the “script” that conversations with new friends and strangers follow. In fact, not long ago I had a version of this conversation with a woman who asked the first three questions below.

1. 你是哪个国家的?¹ What country are you from?
2. 你多大了?² How old are you?
3. 结婚了没有?³ Are you married yet? (Sometimes followed by, “Why not?”)
4. 你有孩子吗?⁴ Do you have children? (Sometimes also followed by, “Why not?”)
5. 工资多少?⁵ How much is your salary?

In the early days, I responded to cultural differences in various ways. Laughter, confusion, and frustration were at the top of the list. Given my proclivity for being a know-it-all, I can imagine also feeling pride at my patience with people who were doing things the wrong way. (Face smack emoji here, please.)

As I look back on nearly 25 years in China, however, patience of another sort stands out. As an example, no matter how long I live in China, I can’t seem to remember to use the appropriate, polite register when talking to leaders. Chinese social rules dictate that people respectfully address those up the hierarchy from themselves. But, instead of using leaders’ titles or at least “您,”⁶ the polite version of “you,” I address them in a very American fashion, usually as equals and sometimes as friends. Yet, never once has their attitude in response been anything other than kind. 

As another example, one day I was sending a voice message to a friend asking for help. The slipcovers on my couch needed removed, washed, and wrestled (literally, which is why I needed help) back on. Guessing at the Chinese for explaining this task, I completely garbled the request. As is often the case, her response started with some giggling. Granted, talking about a couch “wearing clothing” paints a rather ridiculous picture in English too. Then, when her first attempt to correct didn’t make an impression, she patiently typed out the exact words I needed.

A Chinese saying reads, “十年树木百年树人,”⁷ “It takes ten years to grow a tree and one hundred to cultivate a person.” Over and over in China, my colleagues, friends, and even leaders up the hierarchy have taken the long view with me. They’ve been patient when I’ve been impolite, long-suffering when I’ve been too American, and merciful when I’ve been mistaken. Often with a thread of infectious humor tracing through their patience, they’ve taught me a better way of speaking and acting not only in their language and culture but sometimes also in the world.

Does this kind of patience remind you of anyone? One of my favorite ancient sentences reads, “Yahweh is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love.” He took the long view with me first, and I’m thankful.

1. ni shi na ge guo jia de ↩︎
2. ni duo da le ↩︎
3. ni jie hun le mei you ↩︎
4. ni you hai zi ma ↩︎
5. gong zi duo shao ↩︎
6. nin ↩︎
7. shi nian shu mu bai nian shu ren ↩︎