Eastern promise comes good
Spaniards are finding in China a land of opportunities standing in stark contrast to the sterile economic panorama they left behind; few are in a hurry to return
Three years ago, Estibalitz Gete's husband told her the Basque multinational he works for wanted to send him to China. "It was for three years, and seemed like a worthwhile experience, and to be honest, there wasn't much to keep me at home," says the 31-year-old teaching graduate. "What's more, I was determined to make the most of my stay there," she adds.
Within a month she had found work in Shanghai producing teaching material for an online website that teaches Spanish. Two years later, already able to speak Chinese reasonably well, she was part of the reception committee at the Bilbao pavilion that greeted Spanish Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero when he visited the Shanghai World Expo last year.
She now teaches English in a nursery for Korean infants, and the couple has decided to extend their stay in China's commercial capital indefinitely. "All my friends, with the exception of one, said I was crazy for having gone so far away. But I believe that we have to take advantage of our youth, and that things were too comfortable at home; there was no incentive to try anything new. I don't know if the solution to the economic crisis is in China, but I do know that it isn't to be found back at home," Gete says.
The facts bear her out. In the wake of the worst crisis since World War II, Spain is finding it hard to register even minimal growth, while unemployment continues to rise, and with it an entire generation's hopes of ever finding a job, much less a career. Youth unemployment in Spain stands at over 40 percent. Meanwhile in China, the Communist Party is trying to find ways to cool the economy down - GDP grew by 10.3 percent in 2010. In just three decades, a country mired in poverty has emerged as a world power, and the only nation able to challenge the United States' global hegemony. If the IMF's figures are right, Spain will continue to register less than two-percent annual growth until at least 2017. By that time, China will likely be on the point of unseating the United States as the world's new superpower. In short, this is China's century.
The West's businesses have been eyeing China since the late 1990s, aware that their fortunes lie eastward. They sent teams of young, energetic engineers and technicians to build the factories that have become the foundations of relocation. The benefits of being a pioneering expat are clear: higher pay, lower taxes, and acquiring first-hand knowledge of the world's biggest market.
According to a survey carried out by Naiara Arnaez, a researcher at the University of Mondragón, the average expat working in China is male (85 percent), aged under 35 (50 percent), is married or in a long-term relationship (67 percent), is a university graduate (53 percent), has around 13 years professional experience (35 percent), is living and working abroad for the first time (47 percent), and will be doing so for around four years (37 percent).
There is also another breed that is carving a future for itself in China: the so-called half-pat; university educated, with no immediate employment opportunities, often with just a tourist visa, and little money.
"It's probably the case that we aren't earning much more than we would be in Spain. But life is cheaper here, and money goes further," says Yolanda Pascual, a 36-year-old fashion designer who left Barcelona several years ago - "The prices there were astronomical" - in search of cheaper production costs. She went first to Thailand, then to Vietnam, and finally to China.
Sara Suárez Domínguez lives in Shanghai. After finishing her degree, she took up translating (she speaks five languages) and began learning Chinese. "I knew that I had to master an unusual language to set me apart from the rest." Six years ago the 31-year-old realized that she would never perfect her Mandarin unless she lived in China. She and her partner Ion Alaña, a chef, left Spain behind at a time when the property bubble was still keeping the economy going, but for them the writing was on the wall, and they knew that salaries here were never going to meet their expectations.
Alaña wasted little time in looking for work, and was soon offered a position as chef in the Garçon Chinoise restaurant. Meanwhile, Suárez Domínguez obtained her qualifications as an interpreter, and began to find work. She started out in a Catalan engineering firm, and when that went bankrupt, she decided to start organizing cultural events, working as part of the government-sponsored 2007 Year of Spain in China; last year she ran the business program in the Spain pavilion at the Expo. This month she organized Picnic, an alternative music festival in Shanghai that has given many Spanish pop groups the chance to be heard in China.
Meanwhile, Alaña has opened a Basque tavern, Kuluska, which has become a meeting place for Spanish expats and half-pats. "Our customers are a good indication of the way that things are changing here. More and more we are seeing 'parachutists' who have come here to study Chinese and then decide to stay on in the hope of finding work. We get CVs from people looking to work in the restaurant, aged anything from 22 to 56," says Alaña. José María Luzarraga, an expert in the internationalization of business, says that even up until a few years ago, Spanish companies found it hard to persuade employees to go abroad, particularly to China. "But these days they are lining up to go."
According to Andrés Ferrer, a 37-year-old designer from the Canary Islands now teaching at the University of Shanghai, it is easy to see why. "Spain is finished. There are no opportunities for young people. But in Shanghai, things have barely started. It is easy to get a project off the ground. People are open and want to learn; they want to hear new ideas."
The Spanish community in China has grown sixfold over the last decade. In 2000, there were just 697: on April 7, that figure was 4,125. Most live in Shanghai and Beijing.
The majority, like Miguel Candela, want to set up their own business. He founded the import-export company Midori with his partner, Lam Fung, in Hong Kong in 2009. "When I finished my studies in the United States, I wanted work experience and Hong Kong seemed the perfect bridge between two cultures. We have to create added value if we are to compete. I think that this new generation of Spaniards can provide something new. I haven't come here to escape the crisis, but because I believe that China is the future. Obviously, the way things are in Spain right now doesn't make it such an appealing place to stay," he adds.
Pedro Pablo Arroyo is a Madrid-born architect who after finishing his doctorate in Japan decided to make a name for himself in China. "In terms of architecture it feels as though everything has been done that there is to do in Europe, and there is only room for the big names. But in China, there are still opportunities," he says.
Five years ago he set up CA Group, which has already earned an international reputation. After his pedestrian bridge in the Qingpu district of Shanghai won prizes, the city's authorities offered him projects. Last year he built the ¤20-million twin bridges at Xidayinggang, and has two other projects underway.
Most Spaniards living and working in China say they do not see themselves staying there forever. "It is a tough place to work: every day is a battle, and you are never going to be anything other than a stranger," says Arroyo. But his time there gave him opportunities that were unthinkable in Spain, he says, and he is now able to teach here. He says he is looking out for new projects in Europe, but will be doing so from his base in Shanghai.
"I'm having the experience of my lifetime; here I learn something new every day"
Since opening a residence for Spanish artists in Beijing, Judas Arrieta says he has been overwhelmed with requests for places and grants. Born in San Sebastián, the 39-year-old moved to the Chinese capital five years ago.
"My idea when I came here was simply to be able to produce my work at lower costs than in Spain, where artists are considered pariahs," Arrieta explains. "This country has replaced Japan as the place where artists relocate, a place where artists can produce at low cost, and then export their work internationally."
Typical of the new generation of Spanish artist attracted to China is Abraham Carmona, aged 27. He is a member of the influential flamenco clan, and the first flamenco artist to compose, produce and record a disc in China, Silencio. "I did it all with my own money, without having to be at the mercy of a record company; because this is a place where you can do things just as well as in Spain, but at a much lower cost. China has allowed me to make my dreams come true. What's more, I have found that this is a very inspirational place, much more so than Spain. I mix with musicians from every corner of the world, and their different styles enrich my own brand of fusion flamenco," he says.
But there are limits to artistic expression, as Arrieta found out when he created Mickey Mao, a portrait of the Great Leader with the Disney mouse's trademark ears. The work was withdrawn from an exhibition.
But the restrictions of the art world seem less rigorously applied in the entertainment business, as Borja Mata, a drag artist in his late twenties has discovered. He works in Chinatown, a risqué cabaret in Shanghai. Barely able to speak Chinese, and openly homosexual, he has found himself at the center of a thriving underground scene. "It isn't easy to make a name for yourself here. But while in Spain lots of people are doing what I do, here drag queens are still something new. I wouldn't say that I have escaped from Spain, but I certainly wasn't working; whereas here I am having the experience of my lifetime. I learn something new every day."
That said, Mata says he is all too aware of the limits the Chinese authorities place on homosexuals. Some 60 men were recently arrested in a gay club accused of taking part in pornography. "China has its rules, and you have to respect them," he says.
