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| Lifestyle |
| China's digital heart | |
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 Ayesha Rasool on campus at UESTC
My story in China began with a heartbeat of panic at a Chengdu airport. I was alone, a Pakistani girl surrounded by a language I didn't understand. Then I saw it: not just a new country, but a new world. Digital boards flickered with elegant Chinese characters, people tapped their phones to glide through gates and silent elevators whisked everyone away. I stood there, a computer science student finally seeing a smart city come to life. That first night, my rescue came from a kind senior from University of Electronic Science and Technology of China (UESTC). He called a car through an app. When we reached the university gate, he simply swiped his phone. A soft beep, and the gate opened. That small, silent action struck me deeply. This digital life wasn't a feature here; it was the foundation. That magic soon became my everyday rhythm. I used Alipay to rent bikes, feeling the Chengdu breeze on my face and I used Weixin Wallet to split the bill for loud, laughter-filled hotpot dinners. When Chengdu's weather turned cold, I discovered Pinduoduo. Laughing with my roommate as we joined a group buy for a jacket, I found community and joy. But not every day was smooth. The language barrier often felt like a solid wall. I'll never forget the day at Paradise Mall when I desperately needed eggs. I stood at the counter, my vocabulary failing me. I clucked like a chicken, flapping my arms gently. The shopkeeper's initially confused frown melted into a chuckle. Finally, a kind customer said the magic word dan. I learned my first practical Chinese word from a moment of shared, humble laughter. That's when Baidu Translator became my silent best friend. I used it to get my first haircut in China, the barber and I sharing smiles as the robotic voice translated my request. I used it to buy groceries, holding my phone up to a shopkeeper. Slowly, these digital interactions taught me nihao and xiexie. Technology taught me how to connect. My most cherished memory is the celebration of my friend Suity's wedding. Her husband was in South Africa, so the Nikah was held online. The night before, we embarked on a mission. Five girls on bikes, riding through a pouring Chengdu rain, laughing and shivering. We were utterly soaked, but the shared purpose was becoming a core memory. The next day, we found the perfect suit. On the day of the Nikah, with Suity on my bike, we rode to a Pakistani restaurant. We sang wedding songs, our voices mixing with the city's sounds. Inside, we gathered around a screen. As Suity saw her husband's face, tears streamed down her cheeks, and ours too. I was witnessing love, spanning continents, enabled by a digital world compassionate enough to connect human hearts. Through it all, the digital heartbeat of China has been my constant companion, but it's the human warmth that gave it meaning. I've danced with elderly Chinese women around a crackling fire, their smiles warmer than the flames. I've navigated night markets, feeling completely safe thanks to a smart city that cares. China's digital development was never about cold technology. It's about the warmth of a noodle vendor's patience. It's about the freedom a bike app gives a homesick student. It's about shared laughter in the rain. It's a heartbeat, a steady rhythm of connection, safety and belonging that made this Pakistani girl feel that Chengdu had a place built just for her. BR The author is a Pakistani pursuing a master's degree in computer science at UESTC in Chengdu, Sichuan Province. The article is an edited version of an award-winning piece in the 2025 China in My Eyes—China's Digital Development in My Eyes Essay Contest organized by UESTC Copyedited by G.P. Wilson Comments to luyan@cicgamericas.com |
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