Illustration: Liu Rui/GT

To many Chinese people, Qingdao is a coastal city with fascinating history and architecture. This is particularly due to the influences of German colonialism, which gave the city long-lasting infrastructure. At least, this is what many believe; in reality, Germany's administrative rule only lasted 17 years, far shorter than the Japanese occupation that followed, but it appears that its legacy lasts to this day.

Indeed, the Chinese perception of Germany is frequently glorified. It is rather perplexing that, a century later, many people believe that Qingdao's "German" foundations are what sets it apart from other cities in China. During the heavy rains of 2012 in northeast China, Qingdao was one of the only cities that was equipped to handle the floods. The public's reaction: of course, Qingdao benefited from German engineering.

It was later discovered that only 3 percent of Qingdao's sewage system was left over from colonial times, and that most drainage pipes were installed post-1949 by the Chinese state. In fact, the reason why Qingdao endured the rains better than other cities is probably because it is located on the coast, making drainage simpler.

Similar myths abound within the Chinese perception of Germany. In August last year, a post on the official Lanzhou Information Center Weibo account connected the city's Zhongshan Bridge with a German designer, claiming that even 100 years later, German engineers still sent parts for the bridge's upkeep. The connection was rebuked by netizens, and the assumption has not been verified.

It seems that the image Chinese people have of Germans is in many ways based on legends. According to this narrative, Germans and their products today are exactly like the engineers that preceded them: reliable, efficient, perfect. A popular Internet meme shows a "Made in China" car crashing into a "Made in Germany" bicycle, the latter left entirely intact while the car's front is smashed.

The reputation surrounding "Made in Germany" has thus come a long way since the label was established in 1877 by the British government as a way for consumers to identify products of poor or counterfeit quality. Nowadays, German manufacturing quality is hailed by many as long-lasting and reliable. Apparently, this is not only the case in China: in 2008, French carmaker Citroën parodied Germany's dominant position in the global automobile industry in an advertising campaign, claiming that its C5 was "unmistakably German."

Germany Trade and Invest, a national investment agency, compiles reports on how "Made in Germany" is perceived.

In China, they say, the label is a strong selling point, with many consumers willing to pay more for a German product. This is particularly true in the luxury car market, of which 90 percent is served by German brands. Worldwide, the value of the "Made in Germany" label is being estimated at more than $133 billion.

While it is certainly true that German businesses may be market leaders in some areas, the deification Germany receives in China is exaggerated and unnecessary, particularly because it extrapolates to their judgment of German moral character.

It has come to the point that, often when I say where I am from, people in China speak to me praisingly of Hitler's "strong leadership and economic achievements," apparently unaware of the atrocities for which he was responsible.

That is, of course, an extreme example, but in general Germans are not always the way Chinese popular assumptions see them.

Germans are not always punctual and efficient; bureaucracy often gets in the way of progress. Meanwhile, Berliners watch with embarrassment while their newest airport has still not been opened, even three years behind deadline.

Beyond cultural stereotypes, it is important to ask what "Made in Germany" really means in an increasingly globalized world, and whether the legend of the industrious German professional still applies under these circumstances.

With no institutional body assigned to overseeing the application of "Made in Germany" and outsourcing becoming increasingly common, the label might only represent 10 percent of a commodity's production cycle.

Speaking to Chinese people who have lived in Germany often reveals more truth. A construction engineer from Qingdao, who recently moved to Germany to study German, told me that he had expected that Germans would only read books in the car or subway, but that he soon realized that they, too, play with their smartphones.

"When I was in China, I thought that students at German universities would never cheat on exams, that the punishments would be very strict," he said. "After coming to Germany and asking my friends, they told me that people are the same everywhere."

The author is a freelance writer from Germany, who divides her time between London and Berlin. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn