Ah, the golden age of expat life in China—where your passport is your golden ticket, your teaching contract is your social security, and your reputation? Well, that depends on who’s asking. Enter the LBH: Losers Back Home. A term so casually tossed around in expat forums, it’s practically a party game. “Oh, you’re teaching English? Oh, you’re an LBH!” It’s like a badge of honor for some and a punchline for others. But let’s pause and ask: is the title really deserved, or are we just making fun of the guy who brought the bad karaoke playlist to the office party?
Picture this: a 30-something bloke with a questionable haircut and a "I ♥ Beijing" t-shirt walks into a café. He’s sipping bubble tea, scrolling TikTok, and casually mentions he’s “teaching English in Chengdu.” The room goes silent. Then someone whispers, “Yep. Another LBH.” It’s not that he’s bad at English—no, he’s fluent, actually—but the stereotype sticks like glue. You’re not a CEO, not a scientist, not even a TikTok influencer. You’re a teacher. And in some circles, that makes you the human equivalent of a slightly dusty textbook.
Now, before you start picturing a sad soul with a sad coffee and a sad life, consider this: the LBH label often comes from a mix of jealousy, misunderstanding, and the kind of humor that thrives in expat bubbles. Sure, some teachers do show up late, wear mismatched socks, and confuse “past tense” with “past life.” But so do lawyers, baristas, and your cousin’s best friend who “just wants to travel.” The truth is, most English teachers in China are just like anyone else—trying to survive on a salary that barely covers rent, ramen, and the occasional fancy coffee. They’re not losers. They’re dreamers with a passport and a plan.
And here's the twist: the very people who mock the LBHs are often the same ones who are *also* LBHs. The guy who says, “I’m not an LBH—I’ve got a real job!”? He’s probably a digital nomad with a side hustle in Bali and a YouTube channel called “Soulful Sunsets & Student Loans.” He’s just not admitting it. The irony is thick enough to spread on toast.
But let’s be real—there *were* bad apples. The early days of China’s expat boom saw a flood of foreigners who showed up with nothing but a visa, a dream, and a broken passport. Some showed up with no teaching experience, some with questionable life choices (we’re looking at you, *that* guy who brought a pet parrot to class). The system wasn’t perfect, and yes, some schools hired anyone with a passport and a pulse. But things have changed. Now, schools are stricter, background checks are a thing, and the bar has risen. Yet the label lingers like an old stain on a white shirt.
Still, for every “I was fired from my job in London” story, there’s a teacher who’s building a life in Kunming, teaching kids to read Shakespeare while saving enough to buy a tiny apartment in Hangzhou. There’s the one who runs a podcast in Mandarin, the one who started a nonprofit for rural education, the one who taught English while raising twins. They’re not losers. They’re adventurers. They’re the people who packed up their lives and said, “I’m going to try something different.” That’s not weakness—it’s courage.
And if you’re thinking, “Wait, I want to do this too,” then you’re in luck. You don’t have to wander the streets of Chongqing wondering if you’ll be labeled an LBH. You can actually *find real work abroad*—not just a gig, but a life. With platforms like *Find Work Abroad*, you can explore legitimate teaching roles, get verified schools, and even find roles that match your actual skills and dreams. It’s not about escaping failure—it’s about chasing a better version of yourself. And hey, if you’re still called an LBH? Just smile, sip your tea, and say, “Yep, I’m an LBH. But I’m the *best* kind.”
So here’s the punchline: the label isn’t about who you are—it’s about who you’re not. You’re not a corporate drone in a gray suit. You’re not stuck in a soulless office job. You’re someone who dared to try something different. Maybe you’re not famous. Maybe you’re not rich. But you’re alive, you’re learning, and you’re teaching kids to say “I like apples” in English. That’s not a loser. That’s a legend in the making.
Categories:
Beijing, Chengdu, Chongqing, Hangzhou, Kunming, English,
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