An Absurd Checklist: How to Pretend You Belong in China
☐ Walk with purpose, even if you have no idea where you’re going
(Stopping means someone will help you. You are not ready for that.)
☐ Nod confidently at salespeople
(This signals: I acknowledge your existence but will not be purchasing your entire store today.)
☐ Point at food on the menu like you’ve ordered it before
Bonus points if you say nothing and just smile knowingly.
☐ Pretend you’re not lost, even when Gaode Maps has given up on you
If the map spins, you spin with it. This is the rule.
☐ Accept that you will be followed in stores
This is not suspicion. This is customer service with cardio.
☐ Do not react to squat toilets
Reacting means you lose. Adaptation means survival.
☐ Assume every light is set to interrogation mode
Your pores are now public knowledge.
☐ Learn three phrases in Mandarin
Only one will be understood. None will be the one you practiced.
☐ Carry tissues at all times
Not for emotions. For logistics.
☐ When asked for directions, gesture vaguely and apologize
They will thank you anyway.
☐ Never admit you’re confused
Confusion attracts helpers. Helpers multiply.
☐ If you accidentally order too much food, eat like this was always the plan
Leftovers are weakness. Confidence is digestion.
☐ Laugh at yourself before anyone else does
This disarms the universe.
☐ Remember: looking like you belong is 90% posture, 10% delusion
Both are learnable skills.
☐ Discover that fitting in was never the goal
Being here —confused, smiling, trying— was.
☐ Notice that the version of you who needed control wouldn’t survive here
And somehow… that’s exactly why you’re thriving.
“This is not a country. It’s a movie set.“
— Lost in Translation (2003)