My Cross-Cultural Journey in Pakistan

In October 2012, I arrived in Islamabad, Pakistan, to begin my career in international Chinese education. Time passed quickly—nearly nine years later, I had not only taught and managed at the Confucius Institute, but also gathered countless stories about cross-cultural communication.

In 2017, I gave a lecture titled “Pakistan—The Familiar but Strange ‘Iron Brother’” at the Macau University of Science and Technology. The title reflected my deep feelings: China and Pakistan are often described as “iron brothers,” but beneath the warm friendship, there are still many misunderstandings and gaps in cultural understanding. This is exactly where the Confucius Institute plays a crucial role: it has trained thousands of Pakistani students in Chinese language and culture, while also serving as a bridge between two civilizations.

Because my work was more focused on management and cultural courses (rather than only language teaching), I had many chances to experience unique cross-cultural cases. Here are some examples that might be helpful for new teachers preparing to work abroad.

Food as a Gateway to Culture

“People regard food as their heaven.” Dietary differences are often the first challenge for teachers abroad—but food can also be the best entry point into cultural exchange.

During festivals, we often introduced students to traditional Chinese food. For example, on Mid-Autumn Festival, we designed a teaching route:

1. Show real mooncakes to spark curiosity.
2. Let students taste them.
3. Teach the word “月饼 (mooncake).”
4. Explain that its round shape is like the full moon.
5. Share the cultural meaning of “圆 (round)” as “reunion.”
6. Tell the legend of Chang’e flying to the moon.
7. Conclude with the custom of family reunion under the full moon.

This approach made abstract concepts like “harmony” and “yin-yang balance” more accessible. Students not only enjoyed the food, but also remembered the cultural values behind it.

Other food-related conversations also opened doors. For example:

• Pakistanis often asked, “Why do Chinese people drink hot water even in summer?” I explained from the perspective of yin-yang balance, saying warm water helps keep the body in harmony.
• When they shared their own eating habits (often skipping breakfast and eating late at night), they compared them with Chinese ideas of “eat well in the morning, eat full at noon, eat light at night.” Many even changed their routines, joking that Chinese habits made people look younger and healthier!

Food, in short, became our most effective cultural teaching tool.

The Word “Fate” and Cross-Cultural Misunderstandings

Language is culture. Even simple words like “water,” “tree,” or “dog” carry very different connotations across countries.

One striking case happened in 2019. At a cultural event, a Pakistani student wrote four Chinese characters: “都是命啊 (It’s all fate).” In Chinese, this phrase often expresses helplessness, influenced by Confucian and Buddhist ideas of destiny. But for Muslims, “fate” (qadar) comes directly from Allah—it is predetermined, yet accepted with peace and optimism.

So when the student wrote “都是命啊,” he wasn’t expressing despair, but rather trust in God’s will. The same phrase carried completely different emotions. This taught us that teachers must always be aware of hidden cultural layers when teaching abstract vocabulary.

A Tale of Twitching Eyelids

Another classroom moment showed how folk beliefs can both connect and differ.

In one lesson, a teacher explained the phrase “my eyelid keeps twitching” and introduced the Chinese saying: “左眼跳财，右眼跳灾” (left eye means fortune, right eye means misfortune). The students became excited and said: “We have the exact same saying—but reversed! For us, right is honorable, so the right eye means wealth, and the left eye means trouble.”

The class erupted in laughter, realizing that even superstitions could reflect deep cultural logic—yin-yang in China, right vs. left in Islam.

Teaching Poetry and Playing Chess

Cross-cultural teaching often requires quick thinking.

Once, a teacher introduced the famous Tang poem “悯农 (Pity the Farmer).” After reading, the teacher asked: “What does this poem teach us?” Expecting the answer “food is precious because farmers work hard,” the teacher instead heard a boy shout: “Allah gave it to us!” The teacher quickly adapted: “Yes, Allah gives food, but through the hard work of farmers.” Only then did the students connect divine will with human labor.

Another case involved Chinese chess. Students loved learning the characters on the chess pieces, but one girl said: “My father won’t let me play—he says we shouldn’t always say ‘kill, kill’ when moving pieces.” The teacher immediately responded: “In fact, it’s not real killing, but capturing. And when the game ends, all the pieces return to life.” The girl smiled and happily joined the game.

These stories show that teaching abroad is not just about language—it’s about sensitivity, flexibility, and cultural empathy.

Reflections

Living and teaching in Pakistan taught me that cultural differences are everywhere, from food and daily habits to abstract beliefs about life and fate. For international Chinese educators, the key is not to erase these differences, but to find bridges, seek common ground, and turn every moment—whether eating mooncakes, discussing destiny, or playing chess—into a chance for understanding.

 Author’s Note

Zhang Daojian, Associate Professor at Beijing Language and Culture University, holds a master’s in Comparative Literature and a doctorate in Literary Studies. Since 2012, he has served as Chinese Director of the Confucius Institute in Islamabad, appeared twice on Pakistan National Television, and was awarded the title of “Outstanding Individual” by Hanban in 2016. His teaching includes Introduction to Chinese Culture, Research Methodology, and training programs for local institutions and enterprises.