The C word

Ask any expat* in Belgium and they will confirm there is nothing as painful as the official registration process that must be endured.

The all-powerful Commune (local authority, borough, township, district, call it what you will) has, over the last 4 months, been a thorn in the proverbial for Mr B and myself.

Normally as an EU citizen I should have no trouble entering Belgium and getting the requisite ID/SIS (social security) card. However, because I had no job on arrival, the embassy in Beijing told me I would need to enter under the “dépendant” process. Sensing doom ahead, I had no choice but to grimly agree.

All expats are forced to the infamous “Bureau des Étrangers” in the part of the city where they reside. Last time round, before we were married, Mr B and I lived in the central Brussels Commune.  When we left, Mr B vowed never again to live there due to the painful nature of the process involved in the annual renewal of his work permit.

And so we find ourselves instead living in the Commune that is agreed by all Belgians we know to the be absolute worst in Brussels. It has the highest proportion of non-Belgians and some of the highest unemployment rates in the capital**. Yet, armed with the self-confidence that can only come from having dealt with bureaucracy in the developing world, Mr B and I prepared for registration with a sense of steely determination.

Our first trip to the Commune was a strong reminder of our time in India. Absolute anarchy.  Gross incompetence and lack of organization meant at 7.30am when some unfortunate official tried to hand out the 50 tokens necessary to be processed that day, there were scenes of near rioting. Fearing for his safety the official retreated indoors, shouting he was calling the police. Not to be outdone, the assembled masses shouted back that he should and started pounding on the door demanding he come out. One woman was screaming, “Malorganizé!  Malorganizé!”,  at the top of her lungs, another bewildered man muttered,  “mais, c’est pas le Congo ici?”, as if to reassure himself that he was, in fact, in the right country.

Reinforced with two minders, the official re-appeared and hurriedly handed out the tokens. We were lucky enough to be seen, were given a raft of requests for additional documents to show that Mr B could support me financially and told we would need to come again together when the police had been to check our doorbell and mailbox for name-tags to verify that we lived where we said we did. This whole doorbell inspection thing is an odd Belgian requirement within an odd Belgian process that provokes a lot of headshaking and bewilderment amongst expats.

This was all done, we got the requisite certificates translated and notarised. I   went a second time to the Bureau, arriving at 6.15am to find the crowd had self-regulated, with a Congolese man writing people’s names on a bit of orange juice packing case as they arrived and presenting it to the official who in turn called everyone’s names and handed out tokens.

And then on the home stretch, disaster struck.

The final, necessary part of our file was a certificate from the Hygiene Service who are responsible for inspecting people’s houses if they come in as a “dépendant”. The process allowing the government to enter private homes has recently been challenged in the Belgian Courts and, as a result, the process is frozen.

This means no “dépendant” can have their papers processed without  jumping through major hoops and going in person to the Foreign Ministry to beg for their lives. I had to try and explain this to a bemused Indian who did not speak French. Naturally, he took it in his stride.

Thanks to the immense efforts of Mr B’s HR lady, we managed to get an appointment with the Chef of the Bureau des Étrangers to beg him to process our files at local level given the fact that in the intervening 3 months I had managed to get a temporary work contract and so could go through the normal EU citizens process.

We arrived at 6.05am for this begging appointment to scenes of more near-rioting. Despite the self-organized list system, the backlog of processing has got to the point in our Commune that people are arriving at 2am to try and get one of the 50 daily slots to beg for a resolution.

It is almost impossible to do anything in Belgium without an ID card, for example to get kids into schools. Everyone is desperate. And tempers are running short. The Commune has introduced bouncers to enforce crowd control on the advice of the police. That’s how serious it has become.

The long and short of it is that the Chef was (wearily) accommodating and, fingers crossed, within the next month Mr B and I should be fully ID’d up.  The bad news is we have to go through it all again next year.

I’ve heard, incidentally, the process in Waterloo is a breeze, and that Forest is the best commune in Brussels proper. I’m sure the Woluwe’s (home of many an embassy official) are pleasant, brief experiences too.

*Here is Belgian Waffle’s take on the Commune experience. As normal she captures it beautifully.

** More on this later…

Mulberry leaves & silk gowns?

In spite of the fact we’re in Europe again, Mr B and I find ourselves keeping an eye on things in China and India. I suppose this is natural as we enjoyed our Asian time so much and also because from a professional viewpoint we find it an important perspective to bring to the table in EU-centric discussions here in Brussels.

One of the things expats in Beijing like to discuss is how the business environment has changed over the last 5 years as China has developed economically but more importantly in terms of self-confidence.

In both Mumbai and Beijing, it was evident that governments and the national business community had reached the point where they wanted to strike out on their own in terms of management and personnel. In theory there is nothing wrong with this at all – some would argue it is a sign of  successful economic development. Each government has a duty to nurture national economies as they see fit.

The other side of the coin are expat workers who increasingly feel marginalised, dismayed and concerned that companies in India and China are now trying to run before they can walk.

While many companies (both subsidiaries of western businesses and national companies) could demonstrate perfect mastery of technology and business processes, we heard many discussions about limits on critical thinking/the ability of employees to think outside rigid systems they had experienced directly and the problems this often posed for HQ. Most pointed to the rote-based education systems in both India and China that reward memorisation as opposed to abstract reasoning/independent  research more common in the western education system.

I’m well aware of how arrogant this sounds.

Most expats are experienced senior managers, sent to solve problems or set up new businesses and recruit the best local talent. Most of them accept if they do their jobs correctly, they’ll eventually make themselves redundant and either go home or move on to the next posting.  That’s expat life. Always has been.

Even during our short time in Beijing, however, we felt the times a changin’; the real problems friends and trailing spouses had in obtaining or extending visas, the increasing blocks on the internet, the visibility of police and PLA personnel on the streets, the growing frustration and concern of Mr B’s clients about ever changing rules on doing business there and subtle limits imposed on those trying to expand market share.

All this is a very long way of saying yesterday’s Financial Times carried an interesting Op-Ed about changing  business conditions in China which is worth a look. It’s not just Goggle re-considering whether the promise of billions of new consumers is either possible or desirable. I question whether EU-based businesses are the most competitive or those best placed to transfer skills to China but it is an interesting barometer of current thought amongst the expat business community in Beijing.

The Chinese have a proverb about perseverance, “with time and patience the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown”. It seems western businesses are increasingly feeling the fruits of their efforts might resemble the “Emperor’s New Clothes”.

Working Girl?

I was asked recently by a reader whether or not expat wives can work in Beijing. The answer is “yes, but”…Let me explain.

If you speak to women who’ve been trailing spouses in China for a while, some of them will tell you they were given an automatic work visa along with their husbands upon entry into China.  That’s certainly what I was told but alas it has proved untrue.

The combination of the 60th anniversary (which raised feelings of invincibility to a whole new level here) and the recession have meant the Chinese government sees less and less need for foreign workers. I’ve been told anecdotally that work visas generally are now much harder to come by, with companies having to provide a lot more detailed evidence of why they want to hire a foreign worker over a Chinese one. Information from the Chinese government on this point is often conflicting and unclear.

If you want to find work here it is possible. Many expat wives set up their own businesses to ensure a portable career. Others decide to start a family. Others find companies willing to take them on under the table (albeit for a token wage – think around EUROs 150-300 a month), and others trawl around for freelance work, the favourites being writing/editing and teaching English. A very good place to start and to seek up-to-the-minute advice is the excellent VIVA network which holds monthly networking meetings and is run by seasoned expat business women. I’d also recommend the national chambers of commerce, specialist Beijing-based groups on LinkedIn and alumni associations.

All of this brings me to the bigger topic of what happens when working women become expat wives. I know from personal experience it is not at all an easy transition to make. Whatever the benefits of taking time out, don’t let anyone tell you there is no loss of identity involved in becoming a tai-tai. Speaking personally, loss of financial independence is a big part of this. I’ve seen firsthand how it can make expat women here in Beijing incredibly lonely, depressed and angry, and take a huge toll on marriages.

There have been a couple of very interesting stories in the media here about this phenomenon over the last few weeks. I’m linking them here so those who are new to this odd trailing spouse life know they are not alone, and more importantly, that there is help out there. Get thee to an expat coffee morning!

Everyone knows this

A couple of weeks ago, while I was minding my own business online, our broadband access went out. For expats, the internet is akin to a vital  biological function, like breathing. When it disappears inexplicably it is never good.

After much poking at wires and turning off and on of the router, (pretty much the sum total of my technical expertise right there) Mr B, who arrived home in blissful ignorance of this unfolding domestic drama, promptly copped the flak.

It turns out our landline bill has not been paid.

Since we moved in.

In June.

Apparently, even though we’ve never used it and even though ADSL service is part of our rent, a monthly fee has to be paid for a landline in order to keep the ADSL on. After a mercifully short excursion to China Unicom where one employee spoke enough English to help me fill out the myriad forms in Chinese characters, we were told to wait a week and then service would be resumed.

My problem with this is not that we were cut off. That’s normal for non payment of bills. What is totally baffling is that we have not received a single bill, reminder notice, or in fact ANY kind of communication from China Unicom telling us this was coming.

When I mentioned this little episode to one of the very helpful employees in our building, she looked at me as if I came from another planet. Which in many ways I do.

Her response was, “but everybody knows that around 20th of the month bills must be paid!”

“Even though there is no bill sent? No reminders? And there is no mention of this in any of our contracts?”

“Yes, of course. This is China. Everybody knows this is how it works here,” she confirmed.

Everybody except a remedial wife it seems.

Sheng ri kuai le!*

An estimated 3m people are right now heading to Beijing to celebrate the 60th birthday of the People’s Republic on 1st October. In contrast, Mr B and I are heading west to visit my homeland. It will be the first time in a year and a half I’ve been home and I can’t wait but we’re also aware we’ll be missing a historical milestone in our new home city.

The military hardware has practiced and re-practiced its routines and driven around the streets in the process (one of the more bizarre things Mr B and I have seen since arriving); the pensioner volunteers are out en masse, mostly gossiping with each other and occasionally giving directions but no doubt ready to spring into action should crisis present itself; the imposing black humvees with machine-gun toting swat cops have positioned themselves at major junctions in plain sight; flower arrangements along the parade route have been inspected by flashlight at midnight (another of the bizarre scenes we witnessed two Fridays ago); colourful banners and red lanterns have been dusted off;  subway line no 4 has opened right on schedule and uplifting celebratory posters have appeared everywhere.

There is no denying that the authorities are taking preparations very seriously when so much national pride is at stake. Last week, there were rumours abound on the internet that syringe attacks were planned on the city’s subway system. Explosions in two city restaurants last week were not reported in most of the city’s media.

To add to the building seige mentality, experienced expats are hoarding cash and food, knowing that nothing is going to get restocked over the next week, while expats living in the diplomatic compounds closest to the parade route are hunkering down for what amounts to a 24hr lock in.

Speaking today at the American Chamber of Commerce, veteran China watcher Sidney Rittenberg posed the ultimate question ahead of the 60th anniversary: when all other major civilisations (the Egyptians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Maya, and those on the ancient Indian subcontinent) have come and gone, what have the Chinese done differently that has made their culture and language survive and thrive for 5,000 years?

Answers on a postcard please.

*happy birthday!

In The Family Way

As the country gets more prosperous, it seems that the One Child policy is coming under enormous pressure.

China Daily reported a few months ago on how a growing number of women are choosing to give birth in Hong Kong (as a Special Administrative Region, it’s not considered “real” China) as a way around the permit needed to give birth under current regulations.

More couples than ever can now afford to pay the huge fine (10 times the annual average per capita income of the area in which they reside).

To clamp down on this, the government is trying new methods, primarily shaming and stopping prominent businessmen from being able to bid for government contracts.

This is interesting not only for the fact that shame is still an effective way to change behaviour in China (works in just the opposite way in the UK  where any kind of attention for bad behaviour is likely to catapult you into the tabloids, get you a chat show and a perfume) but also for the fact that the policy has survived for so long.

The international media (originally the FT but also the BBC and NYT amongst others) has picked up on a similar story, focusing on moves in Shanghai to allow selected categories of couples to have two children. The categories are fascinating of themselves and include:

• couples who are themselves only children.
• couples where a spouse is a fisherman who has been at sea for 5 years (really).

The reason given by the Shanghai government is the same as France’s post-WW2 policy of rewarding large families: a rapidly growing elderly populace and the need for more workers of tomorrow. It is not at all a sign of some kind of thaw in China’s One Child policy across the rest of Mainland China.

While Remedial Wife doesn’t agree with the massive intrusion into one’s reproductive choices by the state here or anywhere, she does think that the planet is at bursting point and that thinking seriously about the consequences of over-population is a good thing.

Silence Is Golden?

It’s now been a month since we moved to Beijing. Slowly but surely things are getting less weird and more familiar. I’m mostly looking the right way when I cross the road, the chopstick skills are coming along and I’ve enrolled in Mandarin classes three mornings a week.

Other things are also making themselves clearer: namely the way in which the domestic media reports and how issues are debated in public.

First, there is the subtle wording and the way in which modernity is automatically assumed to be the best option. For example, a report on how an ethnic minority group, previously nomads, are being moved into villages carried a comment from the local party official who stated it would be “less hassle” for the group to give up its ancient way of life.

Secondly, there is the radio silence around events the government considers in some way embarrassing. For example, the accidental destruction of Beijing’s Television Cultural Centre in February. Or the real number of schoolchildren who died in last year’s massive earthquake in Sichuan. Or the upcoming anniversary of the Tiananmen Square demonstrations (the BBC has a great articlehere).

I can already tell that watching how other foreigners deal with this, especially  when it’s in an official capacity, is going to become a favourite sport for me.

A group from the US Congress impressively lost no opportunity to slip in references to God and democracy while discussing climate change at a conference last week.  At the closing dinner US Senator John Kerry learnt to his cost that it does not do to ignore the Chinese way of doing things. Unable to resist the opportunity to lecture China on the need to act swiftly on clean energy, Kerry abandoned his prepared speech and spoke without notes for more than 40 minutes, way more than the alloted 15 minutes. His Chinese counter-part, not to be outdone and to keep face and maintain status as the natural superior to the American, spoke for an hour, also without notes. The outcome was that the audience, including Mr B and I,  were reduced to a state of near coma from sheer boredom and had to subsist on bread and water until it was all over. Silence is golden indeed.