This time, let me talk about the lives and mindsets of our fellow townsfolk here.
Most people see Cape Verde merely as a place to work and earn money, so they don’t feel a strong sense of belonging. Under the premise that they are destined to leave someday, yet have to spend many years here, how do they adapt to the local environment without losing touch with the parts of life they left behind in China? They have their own ways. I’ve noticed that the Chinese who come here are striving to create a small, familiar environment modeled on the lifestyle back home. This can be divided into two aspects: "familiar things" and "familiar people."
Let’s start with familiar things.
Materially speaking, one very obvious characteristic I observed is that most of the furniture and daily necessities in the homes of local Chinese come from China. These items travel by sea for two months to reach Cape Verde. If you ask them why, they’ll simply say, “Chinese products are cheaper and offer better value for money.”
But if you think about it carefully—sofas, air conditioners, computers, refrigerators, tables, chairs, beds, lamps, fans, TVs, karaoke machines, even the toilet paper in the bathroom—everything is made in China. After drifting across the ocean for two months to a small island in the Atlantic tens of thousands of kilometers away, I find it hard to believe that the cost is actually lower (or at the very least, the time cost is significantly higher). From my perspective, it seems more like a form of nostalgia for their past life in their homeland, or perhaps an unwillingness to detach themselves from the lifestyle they are accustomed to. When work is intense, when they don’t fully trust the locals and rely solely on their own management—making it impossible to return to China whenever they wish—creating a small, easily adaptable environment helps stabilize their mindset and provides comfort. It also allows them to stay here longer while maintaining good mental well-being. Another point, as I emphasized earlier, is that the goods they sell in their businesses are all related to China. In my view, this is also a deliberate effort to strengthen their connection with China.
Now, let’s talk about the interpersonal aspect.
As with most traditional Chinese immigrant communities, there’s a phenomenon here of old-timers bringing in newcomers—relatives and friends. For new immigrants, this represents a fresh start and an opportunity. For the established immigrants, it’s also beneficial—not just a dilution of resources and opportunities. Instead, these new immigrants expand the Chinese social circle, further strengthening what I referred to earlier as “familiar people.” Such an environment, where they can interact with people they know well, provides them with a sense of security, belonging, and being needed.
There’s also another possibility: by maintaining these two types of connections, they ensure that after many years abroad, they won’t struggle to readjust to the Chinese way of life or find it difficult to interact with Chinese people again.
Even so, among most of the fellow townsfolk I interviewed, when asked, “If you could choose again, would you still come to Cape Verde?” they almost unanimously answered no. Their attitudes were mostly tinged with helplessness and a sense of powerlessness to change their circumstances. It’s poignant but easy to understand. Even though they have familiar objects and familiar people here, and they try their best to stay connected with their families back home, the truth is that after many years away, upon returning to their hometowns, they find it hard to keep up with the pace of change in China. They realize that the familiar things have long vanished, and the familiar people have gradually drifted away. They can’t find a sense of “home” in either place. While talking with one of them, she described herself as almost integrated into local society, having become “half Cape Verdean.” Yet, because she has spent nearly 30 years here—most of her life—she can no longer find anything familiar in China. All she can do is reminisce about the old days, back when she left, within the confines of her home and shop.
Speaking of this, as a side note, I once wrote a poem:
Like water
Flowing and gathering, scattering everywhere
Everywhere is home
But seeing them, perhaps everywhere is also not quite home.
Was it really worth it, traveling thousands of miles to this small island?
