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| Saying goodbye to some of my students |
The last month is always the fastest. After spending nearly
all of my salary on travel, transportation and lodging in Yunan province, I
spent my final two weeks in China with modest funds, picking up recording and
tutoring jobs here and there to make ends meet. These past two weeks were
refreshing and comforting for processing the year’s closure. Along with a
rather unique souvenir/shopping list, I made a list of all people I needed to
bid ‘zai jian’ prior to returning to the wonderful, “free” land of Coca-Cola.
“When will you come back to China?” The most common question
I’ve been asked in the past two weeks, and reasonably so. I gave a variety of
answers, most of which included an arbitrary number like 2-3 years. Although I
anticipate my certain return to China many times in my life, I have no foreseen
date to commit myself to.
Instead of offering a deadline, I liked to offer my Chinese
friends another hint of gratification. “In graduate school next year, I will
take Chinese classes!” This is assurance enough for them to know that one day,
one way or another, I will return.
China is different. People live on top of each other.
Copyright laws don’t exist. Food is fresh and delicious. Product quality
assurance is low. Public transportation is efficient, and having a car is
optional. Adults defecate in glorified holes in the ground, and children do
their all their “business” through the slit in their pants on the street.
Chinese people use every square inch of unused land to cultivate some sort of
living, and many families only have one child.
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| Trying to reason with Chinese Obama |
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| Last meal with Raiko |
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| Paper balloon farewell |
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| 4:30a.m. Beibei Tunnel |
Sure. The place is different. But in so many ways it is the
same. Families stick together to make ends meet. Young college student whisper
sweet nothings to each other in a coffee shops. Old ladies take their miniature-sized
dogs for walks, and children squeal gleefully during their recess time. When
traveling to different countries, I am constantly struck not by how different
my host country is from my home country, but rather how closely similar the
human condition can be between the two, even on the other side of the world. As
I approach a graduate education focused on international trade, I look forward
to further exploring the world’s inhabitants; locating a local favorite
restaurant, finding the favored parks, Recognizing the “routine” of a place.
With each new world I explore, that mindset of the paralleled lifestyle gets
easier to understand.
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| My Chinese Father |
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| My Chinese Family |
China is different. People live on top of each other.
Copyright laws don’t exist. Food is fresh and delicious. Product quality
assurance is low. Public transportation is efficient, and having a car is
optional. Adults defecate in glorified holes in the ground, and children do
their all their “business” through the slit in their pants on the street.
Chinese people use every square inch of unused land to cultivate some sort of
living, and many families only have one child.
