Most people who aren’t from Shenyang aren’t here to explore the city and take selfies—they came to make money, possibly to escape long Heilongjiang winters or the craziness of life in North Korea, right next door.

There aren’t any Westerners in Shenyang. Well, I haven’t seen any in a week, anyway. “Foreigner” is North Korean (plenty of flags around here, plus the direct one-hour Shenyang-Pyongyang flight) or Mongolian. “Exotic” is the Hui ethnic minority.

I’m an oddity in the streets of Shenyang. Add Feng and people stop us to inspect what we produced, i.e., Mark.

“What are you doing here?” is the most commonly asked question.

“My husband is from Shenyang” is the most commonly accepted answer. I tried to say I just wanted to explore the city but this assertion was met with skepticism, especially when stating I was not from Russia (also kind of next door).

But honestly, there’s nothing wrong with Shenyang. It’s a fascinating city with fascinating people who all speak the very unintelligible dōngběihuà dialects (I understand it, I was trained by my mother-in-law).

There aren’t that many famous places to visit in Shenyang. The top one is the Mukden Palace, built for the Qing emperor, a dynasty then ruled by the Manchu. Just like in Xi’an, the Chinese dress like the Qing to have their pictures taken around the massive red gates.

But there are plenty of cool places to explore.

We stayed close to the train station, Zhongshan Square, the massive Mao Zedong statue, and Tàiyuán jiē, a busy pedestrian street with a huge underground mall. We hung out in Zhōng jiē, another busiest pedestrian street with an even bigger underground shopping mall. We went to Wŭài market, an old-style building with everything you can think of, from shoes to wedding essentials—I bought a lovely qípáo dress, plus shoes for Mark and another suitcase for Feng. We explored the neighbourhood where Feng grew up and went to his former apartment building.

We met a few relatives but it was fun this time—much less pressure without my in-law around.

We ate 辽菜, the local cuisine—a lot of steamed buns with cabbage or celery, delicious spicy noodles, and plenty of cakes because there are tons of bakeries in Shenyang.

Shenyang is cheap, even by Chinese standards. Locals are blunt, even by Chinese standards.

It’s a chaotic city, a bit rough around the edges but surprisingly efficient, where people are honest, hard-working and friendly.

This is true China if such a thing exists. Normal life, normal people.

I miss it already.