Tik-Tok

There is a large part of me that really wishes the title of this blog post resulted in a music video remix of Ke$ha's million dollar success song. Alas, it's not. Simply, it's more a blog post of the reflective nature as the concept of time is an ever-lingering pulse that sustains the days here.

Read any self-help book: they'll tell you all about the stages of grief and the closure process, things that are "normal", red flags, emotions you may be experiencing through times of this and that. And although I am one who has done reading and research, I can't help to admit that I find it all quite funny, mainly because I'm sure that none of those people did what I have just done. Even if they did, we'd be experiencing emotions of different natures, as we'd be coming from different experiences as it is impossible for anyone to have lived and experienced all that has happened this year. 


Eating alone was something I did often in college. Finding a table in the dining hall and taking time to eat, reflect, think, study, to do what I need to do. Eating alone is something I have not done in China...all year. That is, until this past week or so. So tonight, as I was people watching and eating my gong bao ji ding gai fan, I was feeling really pensive and reflective and starting the rest of this blog post in my head.

I live in China. That means that I live in a land where boyfriends and girlfriends wear matching outfits to publicly identify that they belong together, as if the excessive hand holding and cuddling wasn't a big enough clue. I live in China. That means that I live by playing the game of "name-that-liquid" every time I walk on the street, avoiding having the substances tested on my shoes. I live in China. That means I live in a land that doesn't speak my language, as eavesdropping is a skill and talent of mine that has lacked in practice throughout this past year. That means that communication with the cafeteria worker, or the shop keeper, or the tea couple, or the waitress, or the taxi driver is short, strained, and usually very one-sided, with the ability to build relationships frozen past the point of "what is your name?" I live in China. That means I live in a country with a love language of physical touch. That means we have one language in common. I live in China. That means I have essentially beam a vegetarian, not by choice, but because the portions of 'meat' in dishes is basically microscopic. That means that 'la jiao' [those spicy red pepper flakes] is automatically added to anything that enters my mouth. I live in China. That means I live in a country where sharing a song from your heart is more meaningful than any amount of money you could spend on a gift. I live in China. That means I can take public transportation basically any-freakin-where I want to go, mostly for the equivalent of fifteen cents. I live in China. That means that there are fireworks exploding on the street at all hours of the day and night. I live in China. That means that my [pasty] white skin is adored and touched everywhere I go, and I am flooded with coos of "You are so white!". I've had to learn to take that as a compliment. I live in China. 

These have nothing to do with being a teacher, nothing to do with relationships or connections, simply, just being a part of the culture of the wonderful country that is currently hosting me. And I am ever so grateful for it. I love China
我爱中国 
Wǒ ài zhōngguó