Second half of the day spent walking and cycling at the city wall. #SaturdayActivityInXian #LifeInXian (at Xi'an City Wall) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxU7mADlURikuhLRG4wk3eN0H5Lkv78cxnNuGM0/?igshid=59okjt1dpf9e
{this actually made me feel very sad. are there really children that hit each growth mile(acorn) stone within the four walls of the .. Hilton?}
Was sitting in (none other than) the Hilton earlier tonight, sipping some wine and scrolling through Notes on my phone when I stumbled across some half-formed initial impressions of life in China that I had jotted down during my first two (really three, but the first week I was asleep/too confused to function) weeks in Harbin:
as I’ve been dreading dealing with the “final” 告别 in less than two weeks, I thought this might be an opportune time to pen some final thoughts, to accompany my initial impressions regarding life in 我国 (really, 半我国）. Here’s the full first note, written in July 2015:
In some ways, it feels like home. Navigating through a sea of Asian faces feels familiar and reminds me of Japan. In other ways, it feels like I've landed on an alien planet.
The "hhhhh-pwa!" As men clear their throats and spit (unfortunately it does not matter whether anyone may be in the line of fire), the cars (and any moving vehicles) as they plough their way through the streets, the smell of sewer in the streets, classrooms and bedroom at night. The joint toilet-shower in my dorm bathroom.
I have so much to share - but will start with the basics:
People
A cold stare. A prolonged glare. These things most anyone can handle. It's the subtle reminders you are second class, you are less than us, that penetrate deeply - that propagate widely. Experiencing discrimination - even at the lightest level, has opened my eyes once again to the causes of inequality that promulgate through society, from schooling and education to healthcare. When you are chosen second or last over and over, you begin to question yourself. Even the most confident individual, when questioned and tested over and over, wonders.
Have to break through, trust yourself. There is so much work to do.
Product (school/learning experience)
Very personalizedI like how vocabulary learned in one class will be used in another; integrated curriculum helps me learnAlso the one on one focus / kind and empathetic teachers motivates me to do well (eg in my one on one class)
盼着（panzhe- what I miss about living in the U.S. So far- will continue to update this as my time here progresses) *** ... guess I didn’t miss much as I never filled this in ***
and, today, as I looked out over one of the most picturesque landscapes I’ve encountered thus far in China:
and this:
andd 还有一张：
{beautiful forests surround and I’m concerned about a fly landing on my leg... metaphorical?}
I then decided to pen a new note - based on my final impressions of life in China, written 13 months after I first arrived in Harbin:
the full text:
Less than two weeks left.
The "hhhhwa-pa" and subsequent splat of spit on the sidewalk has become commonplace, even anticipated, background noise.
I know when to avoid a (bottomless) child, running eagerly ahead of a chasing, toothless and grinning NaiNai, bemused to no end at the sight of her xiao didi-touting sunzi toddler. Another splat (well, more of a spray) as another puddle forms around said toddler + proud NaiNai. I know now to stay clear. How is another question.
Beyond the bodily fluids (or beside), the noises and smells fill the air. Each season in China (well, more specifically, Xi'an) brings its own distinctions. The cool autumn with the changing leaves, back from 放假, student buzz and chatter fill the air, the cantings open for business, filling the stomachs (and hearts) of hundreds of hungry Chinese students (and I, one of the few waiguoren), dogs run about, 阿姨s and 奶奶s frolick to choreographed dances in public squares, all set to the backdrop of deep autumn reds and sunset oranges and, with cooler weather, a brief and welcome drop in pm2.5 levels.
Winter was here. And thankfully, no more. Never one to enjoy the cold, winter in Xian for me meant masks, masks and more masks. I brought 100多 and had an extra supply delivered halfway through January. My gas mask brought shameful relief. Shameful because few of my research colleagues even mentioned the air pollution, much less complained or took remedial action to avoid it. Meanwhile, I hopped about like a fool, dodging smoke clouds, bus exhaust and an unidentifiable (but surely toxic) vat smell that seemed to pervade the campus through February.
Spring. Could it have come any sooner? Flowers blossomed, birds chirped and finally - finally! - pm levels dropped below 120 and I could exercise without feeling like someone was stabbing at me with a ballpoint pen. The huge migration that is 春节 finally passed and I crawled out of a hole (my cozy studio apartment) that I had dug in a poor attempt to avoid large crowds (but mainly, pollution). Hangzhou, Nanjing, Beijing, Shanghai, Guilin, Yangshuo. 阿里旅行 (Alipay) had been downloaded and who was I to not make use of its wonderfully user friendly flight and hotel booking options and deals 😈 travels in the spring were made all the sweeter by my lovely (& blissfully unaware of the whispers by the many ogling observers) partner Rafai, and I was able to see China again with fresh(er) (less-polluted?) eyes, laughing at the Chinglish, remarking on the Japanese-aversion and realizing how different life here, in China, is from life there, in the US.
With the arrival of summer came a preview of the rolling oven heat waves. I attempted to swim at the campus pool, but there were too many people (is it a pool when you can't really float because you're really just on top of another body?). I tried to find shade, but there was no escaping the beating Xian sun, and I got burnt (like a lobster) as we lounged in Sanya (China's Hawaii). As it is throughout the rest of the year, privacy and shade (?) are hard to find in the Xian summer. As China's Oven starting cooking, ironically, so did I. I finally got into a rhythm. Waking up, exercising, cooking in my beloved 饭锅, writing up my research, speaking more fluid Mandarin, 等。and, as the dust settled outside on my balcony floor, so too did my levels of comfort and ease with life alone in China.
It's still summer now, but the temperatures aren't as blistering hot (aka heat index no longer 45C). harbingers of fall seem to be just around the corner. My flight is booked. My bags are mostly packed (mainly because I won't have time to unpack after I get back from Yunnan). The postcards that I wrote back in August have been stamped (albeit clumsily-- sorry if they never make it!) and sent via China Post. Purchasing groceries is no longer a huge undertaking of effort and mental energy. I have cab friends who don't charge me when I ride and tell me to "just pay next time". My cafeteria lady knows how I like my 冒菜, with extra tofu and greens. "Ah you're back!" says the 菠菜面 people when I walk through for a batch of spinach-pressed noodles with cooked tomato and egg (so delicious). The receptionist in my research building with the kind face, stands up to say hello each morning when I come in; past the shiny red "economics and Marxism studies" poster and golden statue of a (great leap) forward-pointing Mao. And then there are my friends. The ones who have more patience than I could ever dream of having. Who smile when I stutter (mainly in mandarin, but also in English), who laugh when I mix up "pear" and "example" (as in, "now I will give you a pear"), who recommend popular Chinese movies and dramas so I can blend in "even better," who come to my rescue when I am asked to give an impromptu research presentation on evaluating quality of care, who nod understandingly when I say I grew up in Japan, who then tell me they are planning to visit Japan because it sounds not so bad after all and maybe the propaganda flamed and fueled by the government isn't so accurate, that if we foreigners put effort in to learning about China, maybe they can try to learn more about other parts of the world, too.
Summer is ending, now, and it's about time to go home. As I hike through the greenest mountains I have ever seen (in Dali), and provide screenings for children of rural farmers (in Wenshan), and make my way back to the ancient capital and terminus of the Silk Road (Xian), I realize now something I will never forget: that I'll never be truly at home, without China in my life.
Thank you, Fulbright and IIE and US state department and Obama (always) for opportunities that have opened doors beyond imagination.
Thank you, China.
