Following on from yesterday’s post, there’s almost always an opposite of each expat extreme and in this case that’s Mr. I hate China.
Mr. I hate China hasn’t enjoyed a day in country since his arrival, for him there was no honeymoon period whatsoever he jumped right into “this place is a dump” and has been stuck there ever since.
This chap has also learned the language, because it’s better to be able to insult people in their own tongue. He waits for any opportunity to feel cheated or deceived and then embraces it whole-heartedly. He’s almost certainly on the career ladder for a major corporation and all his frustrations boil down to his inability to adapt his management style to local conditions.
He came with high-hopes of creating friends out of all his staff and becoming a recognized thought-leader in his field in China. Within a week he’s found out that this isn’t going to happen – his Chinese workers think he’s an idiot, he has no regard for face culture and has managed to insult everyone in the building without realising it. From this moment on, he will be sidelined for the rest of his stay in China – whenever something important is happening at work he’ll be sent to a trade fair in Inner Mongolia.
His resentment at this bubbles over into all areas of his life. He’ll start a screaming match in Starbucks because they haven’t warmed his cup for long enough before filling it with coffee. He’ll have a full-blown tantrum at everything he sees daily, for the duration of his stint here. However he has too much pride to ask for a transfer back to his home country because he’s worried that he won’t be promoted ever again if doesn’t get the “I’ve survived China” badge on his CV.
He doesn’t normally associate with expats either, he uses his company position to bully his staff into attending endless dinners and post-work drinking sessions. At these he will ruthlessly humiliate them and if they decline more than one or two invitations to “enjoy” his company a year, he will threaten to end their careers.
He will become a regular visitor to KTV’s around the local area and the few female “friends” he has will be on his personal payroll. He will then boast about his sexual prowess to everyone from the West he encounters, not realising that it’s easy to have threesomes every day if you’re hiring them in.
Mr. I hate China often doesn’t realise that he hates China and at the start of an evening he may easily be confused with Mr. I love China. However his contempt for the local culture comes through clearly over an evening, particularly his contempt for the local women. He will be boasting of his exploits and thinking he’s winning over the awe-struck bar but whenever he takes a bathroom break – everyone in the room breathes a sigh of relief and then complains about him until he returns.
He’s easy to sympathise with at times, China’s not perfect but the schizophrenic nature of his “China Number One – “China Number Ten” speeches eventually grind you down. Mr. I hate China is best avoided particularly when he’s drinking as he not only looks down on China, he looks down on the people around him. That because in his head he’s number one, and we’re number ten too.