A DHBW Student's Semester Abroad - Welcome to China

It was a Wednesday evening in late August. As I boarded the plane at Frankfurt Airport, the sun was already setting. My destination: Guangzhou, China. Despite all my excitement about my semester abroad in China, I also felt a sense of unease at that moment. How would I manage in such a foreign country? Had I prepared well enough, and were my Chinese language skills sufficient? The next few days would answer all these questions; there was nothing I could do to change anything now anyway.

First, however, I was headed to Doha, Qatar Airways’ transfer hub. Instead of the Boeing 787—the Dreamliner—I continued my journey on the Airbus A380, currently the world’s largest passenger aircraft. And there was a good reason for that. Even here, it became clear that China has no shortage of people. The A380 from Doha was completely full. There was a frenzy and chaos during boarding that were entirely new and unfamiliar to me. Hardly any passenger paid any attention to others. People were shoving and jostling, all with the goal of getting to their own seats as quickly as possible. When I asked, the flight attendant assured me with a grin that it was always like this on flights to China. In amazement, I made my way to my seat.

After a 9-hour flight, the A380 began its descent. It was a sunny morning with no clouds. That held true until we reached an altitude of about 500 meters. Then the A380 plunged into a sea of thick haze. It was caused by tiny particles in the air—presumably smog—and the humidity of a subtropical climate. I wouldn’t see the sun again until days later, after a heavy downpour. Just a few minutes after leaving the plane, China reminded me of one of its biggest problems: too many people. And this time, it would affect me as well.

Even before passport control, our line was blocked for no apparent reason and divided into three sections: a front section with about 50 people, a middle section with another 50 people, and a third section for the rest. Unfortunately, I was in the last section. Every 30 minutes, the front section was opened, and people were allowed to move forward toward passport control. Then the line was replenished from the back and closed again. By that point, I’d already been on the go for 20 hours. The prospect of yet more waiting—the duration of which I couldn’t fathom—didn’t exactly fill me with optimism. Two hours later, I was finally allowed to continue my walk toward passport control. I was hoping for shorter wait times at passport control, only to find upon arrival that it was completely overcrowded. And so I spent another 1.5 hours in line before I could finally enter China. The baggage claim area for my flight had long since closed by then. There was also no indication of which of the eight baggage carousels my luggage had come out on. I decided to give it a try to find my suitcase before asking the staff for help and chose the second carousel from the right. To my amazement, my suitcase rolled onto that very conveyor belt at that very moment. This coincidence brought a smile to my lips and gave me enough strength not to despair on my very first day.

With my suitcase and renewed hope, I continued on my way to the exit, where my Chinese student “buddy,” Wilson, had already been waiting for me for several hours. We were both glad to have these trials behind us and set out to find a taxi that would take us to the South Campus. Guangzhou Airport is located north of the city, while the South Campus is to the south. So our route took us right across the city. The entire ride took about two hours. It was a two-hour drive through a sea of skyscrapers and high-rises, on crowded streets where there seemed to be no discernible traffic rules. It’s hard to put the impressions of that first day into words. Everything is much bigger, more crowded, and more chaotic than anything I’ve ever experienced in Germany or Europe. I just couldn’t stop marveling at it all.

It was already dark when we finally reached the campus. Although I hadn’t expected anything, the condition of the room I found still took me by surprise. A single room for four students, “beds” that were nothing more than 3-centimeter-thick mattresses on wooden planks, and my personal favorite: the “toilet,” known to everyone simply as “the hole.” Luckily for me, exchange students have special status. They only share their room with one other person. With three more roommates, I would have been at my wits’ end.

After I’d unpacked my suitcase and settled into the room, Wilson picked me up to go eat. We went to a village just a few minutes’ walk from campus. We had noodles, clams, meat, and vegetables at a street restaurant that was, to put it mildly by German standards, a bit unhygienic. But I hadn’t eaten anything since getting off the plane and trusted my Chinese friend’s judgment. The dishes tasted great, and I ate my fill. Only the clams gave me a queasy feeling. I didn’t want to upset my stomach on the very first day, but I ate them anyway. The food and the company of the open and friendly Chinese people felt like an offer of peace—an offer of peace from a country that, even on the very first day, seemed so different and hostile that it made me doubt my decision to come.

After dinner, we made our way back to campus, where my “bed” was already eagerly waiting for me. I reflected on the day once more and, due to extreme sleep deprivation, fell asleep unexpectedly quickly. What followed was the most unpleasant night of my life and the end of my first day in the Middle Kingdom.