Guidelines: Part II
by Lo-Ching Chow
Language is no longer the exclusive cultural domain of any one nation or culture. Certain countries have long embraced this reality; this is especially the case with countries that have more than one official language. In China and Taiwan, I have encountered many so-called laowai whose proficiency in the Chinese language would have put most native Chinese speakers to shame. And yet the tendency to equate native fluency with skin colour persists in China and Taiwan, creating a host of ramifications for those who defy simple categorization.
One of the biggest annoyances that I encountered when job-hunting in China was the fact that it was surprisingly difficult to convince employers and human resources staff of my native fluency in English. This annoyance began with the fact I do not have an English name — my English name is simply the Taiwanese transliteration of my Mandarin name. “Why don’t you have an English name?” they would ask me, their quizzical look implying skepticism. And that’s when I am fortunate enough to get an interview. Oftentimes I just get no reply from the employers that I contact. And after failing to obtain an interview for a teaching position at one of the myriad English-teaching institutes the umpteenth time, it dawned on me that I might be approaching the process in the wrong way.
“When in Rome, do as the Romans do” is an age-old advice that most people have heard from friends and family when they are preparing to begin an adventure in a new cultural setting. To a certain extent, the advice is sound. In a country where the majority of the population speaks only one language, adopting a Chinese name will help dispel some of the unfamiliarity, and hopefully indicate one’s sincerity in learning about Chinese culture and ways of doing things. It is also great advice in culinary terms — why would one live and work in Shanghai without trying the local cuisine?
Remember when I wrote that many of the rules that one takes for granted about the world will be better served if they are interpreted as guidelines as opposed to rules? This concept is especially true for a foreigner looking for work in China. For several months, I was using a Chinese website (www.liepin.com) to look for jobs in Shanghai, uploading both my English and Mandarin CVs (as requested by the website) for prospective employers. I was doing what I would do in Canada, while operating under the assumptions that the following were true:
1. That prospective employers would read both my Chinese and English CVs;
2. That they would have some general knowledge of the institutions of higher education that I attended, or, if they did not, that they will do some research into these institutions;
3. That prospective employers are proficient in English;
4. That my information will be kept confidential.
Instead of receiving calls from the employers to whom I sent my resumés, I was instead contacted by multiple “corporate companies” looking to hire people to do clerical work. Needless to say, I was somewhat annoyed — despite enabling the “option” of keeping my contact information confidential on the website, other companies had somehow managed to obtain my information and were soliciting me to apply for work that I was not interested in. After several rounds of turning down the respective human resources staff of these companies, I had formulated a hypothesis- these companies were operating under the assumption that I was a Chinese person. Simply put, they were applying a set of behavioural guidelines that they would use when interacting with a Chinese person.
To test this hypothesis, I started answering these calls in English, and pretended not to know a single word of Mandarin, and sure enough, the callers became tongue-tied and soon hung up on me. I then removed my Chinese resumé from the website, leaving only the English version available. And the results of these two decisions? I stopped receiving calls from unsolicited employers, and actually received more invitations from prospective employers to apply for positions at their companies.
What transpired in the above scenario, then, can be summarised thus:
I. I received more interest from prospective employers when I only had an English resumé as opposed to having both English and Chinese versions;
II. Prospective employers will only read the Chinese version of the resumé, even though the resumés stress the applicant’s multilingual fluency;
III. Companies that I did not apply to were the only ones to actually contact me via telephone.
From these results, I believe the conclusions below are reasonable:
1. Prospective employers will only read the resumé that’s written in their first language when given the option, even when they are looking to hire native English speakers;
2. Unless the institution of higher education one attended is internationally recognisable, do not expect prospective employers to bother researching the institution, especially when the Great Chinese Firewall limits their ability to conduct research (Baidu is no replacement for Google);
3. Not all prospective employers are proficient in English;
4. Do not expect (Chinese) job-hunting websites to keep one’s personal information confidential.
So what did I learn from this experience, aside from the fact that one runs the risk of having one’s personal information leaked to unsolicited companies when one uses a Chinese job-hunting website? That most of the advice that one receives in life are to be taken as guidelines, and that not all advice are applicable across different cultural contexts. For the foreigner who is looking for employment in Shanghai, it would be a lot more productive if s/he used the resources specifically designed to cater to foreigners: expatriate job fairs, expatriate websites, and the like. In the context of China, then, one would have to base one’s actions based on one’s knowledge of the Chinese mentality. When the Chinese expect only the Chinese to use Chinese job-hunting resources and foreigners to use expatriate ones, it is better to indulge them in their assumptions; otherwise, you will be expending a lot of time and energy fending off unwanted attention. Of course, I offer this advice solely in the job-hunting context; some assumptions must be challenged, while others need not be.
Alright, you probably tire of my pontificating by now. I leave you with the one lesson that I have learned in China, one that has been with humanity since the time of Socrates:
“The ancient oracle said that I was the wisest of all the Greeks. It is because I alone, of all the Greeks, know that I know nothing.”
See you next week,
Lo-Ching Chow