Loves
1.) Open-minded friends from all over the globe.
[cue images of colorful cut-out people holding hands around a circle that looks like earth]
Seriously, though, travelers are unique people. I love meeting them.
2.) Meeting new people with whom you just "click", when there is so much to talk about, so much you don't know about them, and delighting in your little talks. It's different when the language barrier is so high. English is the only prerequisite for a potential friendship to begin and they begin in places you wouldn't ordinarily see them, in the U.S. Everyone enjoys a conversation and the camaraderie of sharing a language that feels comfortable to speak.
3.) Tofu! There are at least 30 varieties and you'd never believe how amazing it is. 'Murica vegans, you're doing it wrong.
4.) Adorable children having their first experiences with a mei guo ren (foreigner from the U.S.). It happens almost daily and is a beautiful thing to watch them delight in meeting someone they do not understand, but come to realize is safe and friendly. Their high pitched, Chinese banter and giggles during these encounters is so innocent and precious to witness. I don't mind being a spectacle here.
5.) Fresh produce. I can walk downstairs and arrive right at an alleyway "wet market" for a day's worth of fresh veggies. It is called a wet market because the floors are soaked all the time from the fish they keep in sloshy tanks in the back. Entering for the first time, I almost ran right back out, choking and nauseated by the combined smell of those fish and the recently slaughtered animals that had been sitting out in the sun all day. Thanks to sensory adaptation and learning to walk in on the non-animal side, I can go there every day for a huge bag of produce for $5-10 USD.
6.) Dragon Fruit!!! And starfruit, passionfruit, mangosteen, papaya, mangos... Oh how I love the fruit here! Sweet, just ripe enough, and just tart enough to make your mouth water as you read this if you've ever eaten the delicious fruit in Asia.
7.) Chinese barbecue!!!
Last week, I dressed to the nines, finally resigned to the fact I would have to attend some social functions alone. Especially if my partner continues to try local foods like fish stomach, bless his heart... So, terrified and excited, all dressed up, I walked around Liede, the most European looking street in China I have seen. There were plazas and terrace tables and bottles of wine galore. I was to attend a TED talk and do some networking. I was lost. I despaired after twenty minutes, and dialed Mike, the organizer, an Indian expat whom I'd met through Couchsurfing Fridays. He told me it had been cancelled, but I could meet him and his friends at the hospital where he was being treated for a kidney infection. They were going straight to a barbecue from there. This situation epitomizes the phrase Only In China... I met them there, rode the train to its terminal in the countryside, and found myself at a Chinese barbecue. After ordering a disappointing fruit punch Seagrams (I swear, only in China...) and arranging a safe way for me to grill without triggering a seafood allergy reaction, I sat down and relaxed. Along came Jay, an Alabaman with a Tennessee drawl and Boston politics. I enjoyed myself as I sat there. I watched guys like Jay flirt with reserved girls from China, made sarcastic jokes with new friends that half-understood sarcasm, and attempted intellectual discussions. Doing these things while sweating through my synthetic dress in the 100-degree heat was what we call real, and nice, but not real nice. You'll have to excuse my kitschy idioms, they adore learning them here... :) Then my new southern friend emerged with Mango Absolute and foam bowls. If you've never attempted a double gambei (cheers) with a bowl, dumped it on your synthetic, sweat-soaked dress, and received a refill to gambei a second time, well, let me tell you, you haven't lived. Suddenly, we had something to laugh at and be entertained by: me.
I won't bore you with the details. But the night ended with listening to a small man with a huge personality recounting his internet dating adventures, losing never have I ever (who plays with only 5 chances?!), and being gawked at on the subway while cracking jokes with a gregarious German girl and two lightweighted Chinese friends. You can see the progression between the this is okay, I think I'm having a good time smile, and the pure, belly laugh, glee that evolved later into the night... Now I feel a bit more daring about venturing into unknown territory.
7.) No key to my apartment. A lot of buildings have electronic locks with either codes or card access. Being a reflective person, always pondering other things... I'm not always mindful of my body, possessions, and where my keys are located. As I left Michigan, I felt my sense of importance diminish as I returned one key after another back to work, landlords, vehicle buyers, and others. However, now that I possess no keys, I no longer experience the weekly panic of losing my keys before work, a movie, or a family dinner... Or a double panic like my sister and I had at midnight in Italy, when we both forgot our keys to the hostel... I never heard the end of it when I began to plead, "Someone, anyone, please help us. We are Americans staying here and we have no keys! And we need the water closet!"
Loathes
There is no growth in your comfort zone. To get out of mine, I went to China. It never seems pleasant at the time, but every discomfort, annoyance, and perceived wrong contains a lesson. Sometimes the lesson occurs long after the situation has happened. Here are "points of growth" I've experienced here... a.k.a. my list of loathes.
1.) Close-minded acquaintances who believe theirs is the only correct culture, also coming from all over the globe. I want to ask those who hate so virulently, why are you even here? I have my share of vent sessions, hence this list, but honestly, if you can only ever converse by complaining about China, perhaps it's best if you go home. Plus, xenophobia is embarrassing. -Sincerely, all the westerners who are viewed as a whole when you do that...
2.) Terrifying trips to events in which I know no one, not knowing if it will be a great time or one in which I secretly pray for an angel to come give me an excuse to leave. Most would say I'm extremely outgoing. This is true to the extent that I have a wing woman or partner along. It's an odd hang-up. The terror usually occurs beforehand. However, if I go, as I did last week, despite my fears, I tend to have a ridiculous amount of fun and wonder why I was so worried. All I have to do is meet one or two interesting people who also prefer intellect over fluff or wealth comparison... Or someone who makes good jokes and brought a bottle of Mango Absolute. ;)
3.) The way business is done. It is sufficient to say that we have much more order, professionalism, and functional laws for operations in the states. It's similar to the business refrain in Honduras, una mordida en la mano. I realize professionalism is subjective, and I am viewing it as one living in the global south, having formed my conceptions in the global north. But that's part of this experience. I also realize there are systemic problems, corruption, and other things that would lead one to conclude that U.S. laws are not sufficient either. I wholeheartedly agree. But even the smallest aspects of a business that are governed by laws and general expectations, ones we take for granted at home, are so different here. I'll elaborate later. This is probably the single most common source of culture shock among my contemporaries here, unless this is their first job out of college. Hopefully, maybe, my feelings on this will change as I live here longer.
4.) Cutting in line. Been waiting for that train for seven minutes? Doesn't matter. Trying to exit the train before all get on? No one cares, whiney mei guo ren. It's survival of the hardest shovers.
5.) I have to buy expensive rice from Thailand in China, a country full of rice. Why? Cadmium. Google the two and you will understand. Love the cheap iPhone and tablet? The heavy metals inside have to come from mines somewhere. That somewhere happens to be in Hunan, the same area that is less profitable, but essential, for rice production in the entire country.
Note that I judge myself more harshly than most reading this would endeavor to do... I write you today, from an iPhone. I know the hypocrisy. I wanted this phone. It is convenient. It has a great camera. I use it in wifi hotspots and it is my lifeline for home and my job. I can stream I Like to Move It Move It from Madagascar and have my kids go from crying to bopping in seconds. I can show them snow and photos of home, and humanize Americans in what can be a xenophobic environment. I can snapchat this to my sisters on a Friday night. Obviously, I need this, right?
It's a wonderful tool. But I don't want endocrine damage or cancer or death. So... To the German store I go to buy Thai rice. It's ironic that I am living these repercussions here, as I knew vaguely of Apple's "dirty little secret" from social justice classes and articles I'd seen stateside. I'd essentially written it off as an unfortunate but unchangeable situation, one which someone at some point would push to change. Sometimes we find it easy to ignore things when they benefit us and the atrocities that are done to get them to us happen so far away. Upton Sinclair once said, "It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends on his not understanding it." Ah, how appropriate for our time. Except that now, even enlightened social consciences find it difficult to understand things when their comfort and convenience rest upon not understanding those things...
Now, as I cook my veggies for a half hour before doing any meal preparation, as I buy all my water from the store, and as I spend double on rice to avoid a poison deadlier than arsenic, I cannot ignore it. It's maddening after a month. What about those who have lived their whole lives here doing the same, or not having the economic privilege to buy safer products?
Misses
1.) Hummus and GOOD red wine under $25 USD. I've actually dreamt of consuming both of these things at home, listening to bossa nova, with winds from a cool autumn rain and smoky bonfires filling my home with their aroma.
2.) My cat. Sorry, family. :) Every night, I move my feet around at the end of the bed, as I have for four years since we found Jim Jim. He does not permit others to decide for him that it's time for bed, even though he gives a sour look to anyone who breaks the schedule. He will run out and hide on a dining chair for fifteen minutes, until everyone is asleep, and prowl in, unannounced, like a creepy ex, and snuggle down onto your toes. If it were up to me, I'd start another foster for kittens in our new apartment. At least my partner has some restraint... Here is what Jim Jim is doing, stateside in his cozy Michigan home with his grandma and his jolly friend, Mojo.
Yes, they have their own bed, as no guest bed is needed when I live in China and my sis lives in Madrid. They probably will not tolerate any changes to this arrangement upon our return.
3.) Imodium; airborne; mucinex; charcoal; contact solution; the book Where There Is No Doctor; black cohosh; and other medical necessities...
4.) Vegan junk- soy dogs, tofurkey, tempeh (not a thing here, despite its inception in SE Asia), Braggs, Earth Balance Butter, daiya cheese, overpriced whole grain sriracha chips, veganaise, tahini, sundried tomatoes, cashew milk, pesto, spaghetti sauce, home brewed root beer, cider, gluten-free bread, baba ghanoush, traditional medicinals throat coat tea, vegan gummies, passionflower supplements, Amy's meals, Kind bars, Equal Exchange Mint Chocolate, Dr. Bronners' soap, Acure shampoo, food processors, ovens, toasters... Someone win a million dollars and fly in to visit me with these things. :-)
5.) Family and friends. Okay, so I kind of miss you all a lot. But I want a happy and snarky blog so I won't write here that I sometimes listen to acoustic emo versions of our favorite songs and look longingly at photos from home... Fly out to see me! Have I mentioned my spare room?
©
Amanda Whitmore. Shareable with
author's written permission.
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