Going loco about going local? When in China 入中国乡随中国俗：不疯魔，不本土？

“I’m more Chinese than you are!” the guy sat next to me suddenly cried out, causing me to jump and inhale（vt.吸入；猛吃猛喝） the mouthful of noodles I had been enjoying at the time. It’s not a sentence you hear often, even in China, and especially not from a 20-something Jewish man from California.

“我比你更像中国人！”坐在我旁边的那个男人突然喊道，吓得我跳了起来，猛吸了一口正在畅享的面条。即使在中国，这也不是一句经常会听到的话，尤其这话还出自一个来自加利福尼亚的20多岁的犹太人之口。

To somehow prove his point, the man slammed his wallet on the table and produced several pictures he’d recently had taken with his Chinese girlfriend at a Beijing photography studio. She was in a traditional qipao dress, and he was wearing a sparkly T-shirt, leather wristbands and a pair of shades, trying his best to look moody.

为了证明自己的观点，这名男子将钱包砸在桌子上，并甩出几张和他中国女友最近在北京摄影工作室拍摄的合影。他的女友穿着传统的旗袍，而他穿着闪亮的T恤，带着皮革腕带和墨镜，尽力让自己看起来狂拽炫酷。

The guy was a friend of a friend who had joined a group of us for a feast of beef noodles, lamb skewers and beer. In his defense, his declaration was in response to someone else saying that I was, in fact, more Chinese than him, because I had a Chinese wife and had lived in the country longer.

这家伙是我一个朋友的朋友，他和我们一道参加了一场由牛肉面、羊肉串和啤酒构成的盛宴。他说这话是为了回击其他人说我实际上比他更中国人，理由是我有一个中国妻子并且在中国生活的时间更长。

“But I’m not in the slightest bit Chinese,” I responded, after coughing up a lungful of noodles. I pointed out that both my parents are Caucasian, although that should have been obvious from my pasty white features. “And nor are you Chinese,” I added.

“但我没有一点中国人血统，”我呛出了一口面条后回答道。我的父母都是高加索人，这一点从我苍白的肤色中能明显看出。“你也不是中国人，”我补充道。

Yet my fellow diner seemed uninterested in genealogical fact. For him, “being Chinese” meant he had truly embraced his adopted home, soaked in its culture, and become “one of the locals”.

然而这家伙对我的家谱似乎并不感兴趣。对他来说，“做中国人”意味着他真正融入了中国，浸透了它的文化，成为“当地人之一”。

It was an odd exchange, but over the years I’ve caught several groups of expats arguing over who was “more Chinese”. Sometimes these debates have even included people of Chinese heritage born in other countries, who surely have an unfair advantage.

这是一次奇怪的交流，但多年来，我不止一次陷入过关于谁“更像中国人”的争论。有时这些争论甚至牵扯进一些其他国家出生的、拥有中国血统的人，这些人显然有不公平的优势。

While some expats struggle to adapt to China’s unique ways, there are others who take intense pride in how quickly they pick up local habits.

当一些外国人还在努力适应中国独特的方式时，也有一些人对他们能迅速掌握当地习惯感到非常自豪。

I’ve always been skeptical of the “When in Rome” advice I’ve received, though.

我一直对我收到的“入乡随俗”的建议持怀疑态度。

One summer night, a British friend – who had lived in Beijing for some years by that point – advised me I should always shout in China, particularly when asking questions to a stranger. To test his theory, as soon as we finished dinner at a restaurant, he sought out a random passer-by to ask directions.

一个夏天的夜晚，一位在北京生活了几年的英国朋友告诉我，我应该在中国大喊大叫，在向陌生人提问时更应如此。为了测试他的理论，在一家餐馆吃完晚餐后，他随机找了一个路人询问方向。

“Watch this,” he said, before turning to bellow a question in Mandarin at a middle-aged woman standing in the street. After asking the whereabouts of the nearest public restroom three times – each time receiving only an equally loud “WHAT?” in response – my friend smiled, thanked the perplexed woman, and walked away.

“看着这个，”他说道，然后转而用普通话向一位站在街上的中年妇女问问题。他问最近的公共卫生间在哪儿，这问题问了有三遍——但 每次都只收到一个同样响亮的“什么？”作为回应——我的朋友微笑着，感谢了那个困惑的女人，然后走开了。

Of course, you never truly appreciate the habits you pick up from living in a foreign country until you return home and sit down for a family meal.

当然，只有当你回到家里，坐下来享受家庭聚餐时，你才能真正体会到你在国外生活所养成的习惯。

“Are you going to do that every meal?” my mother asked during the first trip back with my wife, as I loudly slurped the noodles I’d requested at lunch in place of potato fries.

“你打算每顿饭都这么干吗？”母亲在我第一次回来的时候和我的妻子一起问道，因为我要求在午餐时用面条代替薯条，并在桌上大声吸溜。

My wife looked over, tutted, and added, “He’s so Chinese.”

我的妻子看了看，啧啧道：“他太中国了。”