Chinese small talk: 03 (The letter)

 

I'd gone on a 37-day film shoot in China, following a multi-millionaire motorbiker riding from Shanghai to Xinjiang.

    We'd taken on board a film producer from the Shanghai Film Studios, for his credentials to help open doors for us as a foreign crew filming in places that the Chinese might not quite agree to happily.  

    (This was 1988, which was fairly early days for foreigners to be running around China capturing scenes of their daily lives unrehearsed.)  

    The film producer (let's call him Mr Li) and I had got on well.

    Apart from getting on well with him, I'd also let him earn FEC from us, which amounted to a tidy sum over the 37 days.

    FEC is Foreign Exchange Certificate (外汇兑换券 wàihuì duìhuànquàn / "outside currency exchange exchange voucher"), Chinese money issued only to foreigners (1980 – 1994).  Its nickname was Funny Money.  The notes looked pretty much like what the locals used, but with the extra line in Chinese and in English identifying it.

    Imported goods could be bought (at the state-run Friendship Store / 友谊商店) only with FEC.  Taxi drivers, the few that were operating, would ask if we were paying in FEC or renminbi, with a lower fare quoted if we were paying in FEC.  That was how much in demand FEC was in those days.  One yuan FEC was, therefore, worth a lot more than one yuan renminbi.

    Whenever we arrived at a new filming location, which was about every day as we had a lot of mileage to cover, the crew would want a crate of beer to start with.  I'd go with Mr Li to the shop and let him pay with his renminbi, but settle with him in FEC, so I was doing Mr Li a huge favour, letting him earn FEC throughout the 37 days of the film shoot.

    Yet, for the six months after our return, I never got even a simple card from Mr Li.  Fair enough, the Chinese are generally not very good at keeping in touch anyway, in my experience.  Wang Meiling's brother had actually said something most revealing:  that when he was having a farewell meal with his friends before leaving for London, they had "promised each other NOT to write unless it was something urgent or important", which sounds strange at first, until you think of the consequences should their letters be intercepted.

    Back to Mr Li:  as the programme was about to be aired on Channel Four, I received a letter from Mr Li.  I immediately thought, "OK, let's see what kind of favour he wants."

    Page 1 started with (something like): "The programme must be going out soon on television.  I had really enjoyed working with you lot.  It was an interesting and fresh experience for me, blah blah blah," for a whole A4 page.

    Turn over to Page 2, aha!  "My daughter wants to go to the UK to study English.  Can you help her find a course and accommodation?"