Recently, I had an experience that got me thinking about differences in conceptions of privacy, and began pondering about how different cultural standards might govern commercial interactions:

* Getting ready to go to sleep, typing-typing on internet, Tony’s phone beeps. “Whoever could this be?” he ponders, reading the message:

Mystery Caller: “Hi – is this ‘little student Tony’? (小施同学; a normal, polite-ish diminutive form of address) Can you understand what I’m writing?”

* Tony ponders; thinking this might be important. Regardless, a stranger has his phone number. Reply: “This is he; I can understand; who is this?”

Mystery Caller: “Hehe! = – ) Excellent. I’ve met you, you’ve also met me, couldn’t we become good friends? Can I add you to my QQ list so we can chat? Please don’t worry, I’m in no way a bad person, just a Chinese girl with a lucky chance to get to know you. You speak Chinese very well, and you’re very polite, so I got your phone number. I feel you’re very fun, and your blue eyes are very pretty. I’m very curious. I’ve never had a close foreign friend before, so I’d really like to get to know you. You could teach me English, and I could teach you Chinese. I really hope you enjoy your time in China. Ah! I’m so worried and nervous about messaging you unexpectedly.”

Somewhat flattered, slightly creeped out; I want to know how she got my phone number, so a reply: “I still am not clear who this is or how I know you.”

Mystery Caller: “Hehe! Lately what have you been doing; where have you been shopping? You should guess again… I’ll tell you my QQ number, it’s *******. Remember to add me…”

Now feeling less flattered, a little more creeped, I don’t reply. She writes again about twenty minutes later: “So are you a slow typer, or are you just in class? Or is it an inconvenient time? Or do you dislike me?”

At this point I send a terse apology, explain that I don’t use QQ, then make up a story about how I’m gone for the next week and I’m very busy, and haven’t replied to any of the other messages (which have been coming about once a day).

She has since revealed that she is one of the employees at the optometrist I had gone to earlier in the week, where I had an eye exam and ordered new contacts. The use of personal phone numbers like this is hardly an unusual experience here: it’s happened to me once before, and plenty of others. Jonna writes about a friend’s experience at the Chinese gym – in each case personal information obtained through a commercial interaction is used in ways Westerners find very inappropriate. 

Where’s the line? In the past I’ve given my number (in vain, alas) to many a blonde barista while buying unnecessarily expensive coffee. Is my negative reaction to this Chinese woman just the result of the ever tempting alienation one experiences living here? Narcissism? I’ve become especially sensitive to stalker-ish behavior, as it’s very easy to become everyone’s non-compensated native English speaking arm candy (after all this – my most admirable qualities are my eyes and mother language. Oh shallow world.)

The conceptual difference seems to lie in the method of communication – when I give beautiful waitresses a phone number, it’s usually after a short perfunctory interaction, which however scripted at least feels personal in nature. Here there was no established relationship; I’m still not clear which individual this person is. Whether or not this is representative of distinctly ‘Chinese’ methods of interaction is still unclear. A canvassing of local friends indicate that this is strange, but only because of the extent of the come-on, not the sketchy use of a phone number.

One aspect of being a foreigner here is that local interactions consist of a very self selected sample – people who would otherwise feel constrained for doing something risky look to foreigners as an opportunity to break free from social stigmas and mores. As a result, white / black people living in China conclude that all the locals are nutjobs. Foreigners provide a convenient outlet for crazy behavior, since 1) our lifestyles *obviously* consist of varying amounts of hamburgers, weed, and crazy sex (in that order, as far as they are concerned) and 2) there aren’t the same consequences for breaking norms – I’m not likely to rat this woman out to her community and embarrass her.

On the other hand, commercial interactions in China do seem much more personal – bargaining is a verbal dance designed to find a customer’s reserve price while simultaneously allowing both parties to save face. These interactions seem hostile, but once the transaction is made it’s normal to become jovial with someone you were criticizing just a moment prior. In the West it’s very possible to buy all sorts of things while barely uttering a word. This is very freeing in the sense that it saves quite a bit of time (an actual economist should help me here: in the developed world, opportunity costs outweigh whatever gain is made by customizing reserve prices across transactions. In the developing world, localizing each instance by bargaining is more efficient since transaction costs in time and effort are relatively less expensive; i.e.: what else are people going to do with the time spent shouting at store owners?)

Given this, perhaps it’s not so strange that sensitive information is poached by people for personal ends. It’s at least more honest than large scale data mining that marketing companies use to customize spam.

Your opinions? By overanalyzing and categorically ignoring these things, am I missing an excellent opportunity to get to know (in the biblical sense…) local culture? Probably would help my language. I have somewhat strong / negative feelings about multicultural relationships (in the Western-Chinese context), which will be the topic of a future post. On the other hand, is it important to avoid seemingly stalkerish behavior, and stand my ground on (possibly archaic?) notions of privacy and appropriate interaction?

So I did a little research. Good thing, since on the train ride back from Liaoning I was talking to my roommate and a new friend – a pretty girl from the university. About five minutes into our abnormally Tony-centric conversation I realized that my roommate was facilitating just such an interview. With me as the target interviewee.*

My roommate had previously proofread my Chinese resume, so he knew all the gory details; being a local, he also knew exactly what resonated with the women-folk: ”Tongli had a job – in the American capitol city!” Pragmatic, provider type stuff. He kindly neglected to mention the fact that I can barely remember to feed myself most days.

This practice at first comes off as rather crass. During the course of my investigation, I brought the topic up with my cultural go-to professor. She explained, “oh – yeah. I did that – it was really important, since when I was getting married I had to make a decision in a hurry. If you’ve just met a person, you can save a lot of time being really clear about their status, motivations for a relationship / marriage, and goals.” After talking for about 5 minutes, I admitted that it was probably a useful practice, commenting that we in the U.S. will sometimes go for a long while without bringing up any these topics (some of us anyway.) I explained that among my people and the ability to read into mixed signals is a prized virtue in most social interactions, especially the romantic sort. 

Part of me wants to describe these practices as having a direct relationship to material wealth – in the West, we usually assume people can feed and clothe themselves, lifemates, and prospective children. As these very pragmatic concerns becomes less important, we’re more interested in other factors of compatibility – like complementary “passions” regarding obscure interests and hobbies.

Of course there are also cultural differences about certain types of privacy. It’s pretty common to be asked your income and relationship status by complete strangers – does this openness have to do with mores that have adapted over generations of higher population density? But seriously, what fun is examining multiple angles when it’s just as easy AND more remunerative to reduce complex problems to a single sterile variable? 

* As of this writing, the author remains single.