As a Malaysian living in China whose first (and most fluent) language is English, it is somewhat frustrating when most of the modern China expat memoirs available to me come from a Western perspective. While Peter Hessler (River Town), John Pomfret (Chinese Lessons), Michael Levy (Kosher Chinese), Rob Gifford (China Road), and Mike Meyer (The Last Days of Old Beijing) rank among my favorite authors who blend personal experience with thoughtful analysis of the country, I am always aware that, as Western men, their China experiences vary greatly from mine. Likewise, even with the great Leslie Chang (Factory Girls) and Jan Wong, I still feel that cultural gap, as they are Chinese American and Chinese Canadian respectively, with the developed West as their point of reference. Sometimes you just want to read a China memoir that corresponds to your own thoughts and experiences, you know?
It was in these circumstances that I was absolutely delighted to discover Indian writer Pallavi Aiyar's 'Smoke and Mirrors.' Aiyar came to China in 2002 to be with her Spanish Sinophile boyfriend, and what was supposed to be a short affair turned into a 5-year relationship with the country. She learned Chinese and became a foreign correspondent writing for an Indian audience, and I appreciated the use of India as her basis of comparison. India is not Malaysia, but both are developing countries in Asia, and thus I found myself laughing and nodding in understanding when she initially dismisses her American colleague's concerns about a flu-like virus (a.k.a. SARS) as "the overblown paranoia of a westerner. As an Indian, viruses and bacteria held no special dread for me." (When I arrived in China, I too rolled my eyes at my Western friends' horror at dirt and germs and squat toilets.) I loved reading about how Chinese people reacted to her, some even singing snippets of Hindi songs from old movies - I had no idea that Indian movies had been such big hits in Mao's China. Most fascinating, however, was Aiyar's perspectives on poverty in both countries, and her conclusion that it is better to be poor in China than India, as in the authoritarian former, there is greater social mobility, and little of the kind of poverty that "numbs the heart and slams the gut."
I do wish she had shared more about herself. I wanted to know about her life with Julio, their Indian-Spanish interracial relationship and what it was like having a baby in China, how she found her samosa-making ayi, whether racism was ever a real issue for her (early on, she writes that a student refers to her as "a little black"). But that's a whole other book I suppose!