Tim Clissold - Chinese Rules - Five Timeless Lessons for Succeeding in China

Lorraine hardly fared any better as she tried to make new friends, and was regarded as eccentric by the locals. She had kept up her Chinese diet and once, when she went to buy eggs early one morning, the postmistress sniffed and asked – quite rudely, I thought – whether she’d had garlic for supper the night before. In fact, Lorraine ate a kind of Chinese boiled rice porridge for breakfast each day, flavoured with spring onions and spices. So she eyed the group of nosy customers who had gathered at the end of the wooden counter and said, ‘No, I just had raw onions for breakfast.’

In the early summer, the trees awoke and birds filled the hedgerows. On my daily run through the woods, I’d often pause by an old rickety stile and watch the wild deer jumping through the cornfields or the rabbits diving through the thickets. But my mind always flew back to the dusty skies and congested cities, the dry riverbeds threading across the plains, the persimmon orchards out by the Ming Tombs, and the ancient rice terraces on the hillsides where generations of farmers toiled in the squelching mud. I felt stranded at the opposite end of the earth, so I was in a restless, searching mood when I suddenly received that call in the quiet coach, asking me to go back to China.

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