An American in America

September 1^st, 2011.

It’s been exactly six weeks since I got home.  This last week was a bit strange for me; my facebook feed filled with farewells from friends (I like alliteration today, apparently) headed back to China. They’re starting their second year now. I could be too, if I wanted to, but instead I’m here.

‘Here,’ at the moment, is my parents’ house, and ‘here’ will likely remain my parents’ house until January or so. When I got home, my plans for this fall were unclear. My friend and I had planned to live in Virginia together, but unfortunately the housing didn’t work out, which left me with a choice to make. I looked into heading up to DC, and I thought about spending this whole year in Berkeley, but ultimately I realized that what I really wanted, more than anything, was family time. For the last six years, I’ve seen my parents and sisters about once a semester, and after I begin grad school, there’s no telling where I’ll be or how often I’ll be able to get home. So I’m here now, and, for the most part, glad of it.

Of course, I’m still processing China. Not a day, or an hour, I think, goes by without me thinking about my students, my TFC friends, my old Heqing stomping grounds. I wonder what Pengtun is like now and how much it will have changed by the time I see it again. And yes, sometimes I wish I was still there. But mostly I don’t. Mostly I just find myself grateful for the time I spent and for the time I’m spending here.

Here is singing in a choir again, meeting my Dad for coffee, going to the gym with my Mom, going shopping with my sister, cooking for everyone. Here is bike rides, like the ones in China but longer and far less beautiful but somehow still deeply satisfying. Here is scrapbooking a year’s incredible experience, studying econ so I can take the foreign service test, keeping up with Mandarin. Here is still unemployed (for now), but here is a research project at the museum, volunteering as a Hebrew School teacher and musician at the synagogue, helping with an interfaith youth group my sister’s a part of.

It would be pretty great if I could say that all my pre-Yunnan inhibitions and social awkwardness were vanquished by a year where I was always out of my comfort zone and got used to it, but alas, I fear that my constant exposure to risk in China made me crave even more comfort than usual. I think that’ll change though. Ultimately, I think that, although I am an American in America, I’m also an American in flux. I don’t have both feet on the ground quite yet. And, for now at least, I’m ok with waiting. I’m ok with taking time to figure things out. Yunnan taught me nothing if not patience.

So, this is it. The last entry. However, I do intend to start posting on my food blog soon. So, for anyone who’s interested: Em Bakes. I’ve been cooking up a storm down here in Georgia. Stay tuned, folks. And thanks for listening. Your constant support, through email and skype and comments and facebook and everywhere, meant the world to me.

Over and out. 

Home Again

I live in paradise.

No, really, I do.

So many little things make life so very lovely. I can take showers any time I want to, and they’re always hot. If I wake up in the middle of the night and find myself thirsty, I can go get cold, clean water (and ice!) from the fridge in the kitchen. Actually, I’m guzzling water these days, because hydrating is so much simpler and going to the bathroom no longer necessitates getting dressed, walking outside for 2-4 minutes, and chancing the possibility of sharing with a dozen tweens. Indeed, there is a bathroom right next to my bedroom.

When I’m not marveling over the wonders of hygiene I’m marveling over the wonders of food. Y’know what’s good? Cheese. And cookies. And chocolate chips. And frozen yogurt. And milk. And non-instant coffee. And non-Chinese bread. And…

I’ll admit that I miss the mountains. In Pengtun I lived in a beautiful neighborhood but not the most beautiful house. Here it’s the opposite. I have hardwood floors and walls that aren’t white. I find myself surrounded by the wonderfully familiar—the desk dresser in my room that I’ve had since I was a child (Seriously. There are Wishbone stickers on them), embarrassing pictures in the hallway of my sisters and me as little girls, coffee tables and dining tables and sofas and chairs that I know so well.

Aside from the mountains, and the lack of fresh tofu (I bought some earlier this week, in its typical plastic packaging, and found it so comparatively spongy and tasteless—still perfectly serviceable but no longer yummy before being cooked) I don’t miss China yet. I will, I know, but a week ago I hadn’t even arrived in Chicago, so I’m still in utopia.

My last few days in China were mostly quite nice. Two of my students came to the bus station to see me off, and Yiming and I traveled together to Kunming. We got in at 6 AM, and, as neither of us had places we had to be, opted for breakfast at KFC, because there’s a decent bathroom there and they’re often open 24 hours. We sat and talked for quite awhile, Pengtun already in the past tense for us both, neither of us really wanting our fellowship to truly end. But we parted ways. I got on my first plane in quite awhile and whisked my way up to Beijing, then eventually grabbed a train to Tianjin. The reentry into urban life was jarring, but, at the same time, I found myself far better equipped to handle this jaunt through Beijing than the one I endured my first night back in China last July. I had a better idea where I was going and was far more capable of asking directions.



My friends’ wedding in Tianjin was super fun. I got to meet both the bride’s and groom’s families and explore a city I’d never been to before. I was so happy to be able to spend time with my friends, whom I know only from Georgia, in their home. Plus, we stayed in an amazing hotel. Seriously, I jumped for joy when I got to my room.

After two days in Tianjin, I had two in Beijing. I traded my 5-star experience for my typical hostel, which was unfortunately not nearly so charming as many of the hostels I enjoyed in Yunnan and southeast Asia. Still, it was a really great location, a short walk from Tiananmen, and I spent most of my time just strolling around, exploring neighborhoods both near and far from the hostel. The new subway lines are amazing—you can get to so many places so very quickly and easily. When I studied abroad, subway service was far more limited. Since I’d already lived in Beijing during study abroad, I didn’t feel a need to go back to the city’s main tourist attractions, but I took a morning to go out to the Olympic Village, even forking over 25 RMB to enter the Bird’s Nest. It’s an awfully cool stadium.



The other highlight of my trip was a dinner out with a good friend from study abroad whom I’d not seen in over three years. The experience reminded me of just how lucky I am to have so many friends in so many places around the world.

Before I knew it, I was on a plane in Beijing, then wandering through O’Hare—staring awkwardly every time I saw a non-Asian person—and munching a bran muffin from Starbucks. The sound of English in my ears threw me off even as I relished in its simplicity. I called my parents from my American cell phone, which felt strange to hold after the cheap Chinese cell I’d used for the past year.

The flight to Atlanta seemed like nothing after the 14-hour stretch over the Pacific, and I was doing so very well in speaking only English to everybody. But then, when we were disembarking the plane, an older Asian gentleman gestured for me to go first. Out popped a “xiexie—thank you. Oh.” I hope he didn’t hear me.