Finding my 道

A Year Later…

A year later… so many things have changed. Usually, I look back on a year and think “jeez, what did I even do this year?!” I started automatically thinking the same thing when I woke up this morning, but after a recap in my mind, I realized that it has definitely been a year of change for me. As always, I wish I had done more, but don’t we all? That’s what New Years resolutions are for right?

So much has changed in the lives of the people around me as well. Some for the better, but others for the worse. I hope the New Year brings them new opportunities and with them, new fortunes! 

The arrival of a new year brings with it excitement, but also, I can’t help feeling a sense of remorse. I miss the memories already and I feel a lot older this year than I did the last… I hope this doesn’t continue happening for much longer. For those that know me, you already know that I don’t like celebrating my birthday. In fact, I don’t even recognize it as a holiday really. Rather, I feel as if I count my years by the passing of another winter holiday season (how Chinese of me!). Maybe that’s why I feel the need to reflect on everything I’ve done and how I’ll make the next year of my life better. This year however, I need the time for reflection much more than any previous year. 

This time last year, I was scared out of my wits because I was about to leave the comfort of my home(s) and school and friends for a new country, China. I didn’t speak the language, didn’t much like the food, and was embarking on the journey alone. Not to mention, I was still recovering from being sick for several years. My weight was better, but not at its target. I was concerned about meeting new people, finding food to eat, and most of all, being able to communicate! My first night in China, I met a new best friend, found out that Chinese food is delicious and I wouldn’t starve after all, and met the person I would later learn to love with all my heart. How’s that for a good beginning?! 

As the year progressed, I rung in the Chinese New Year in February with so many wonderful new friends; and the last sign of my body’s recuperation showed itself. It was one of the best days ever. 

In 2011, I learned Chinese, perfected my French, traveled to two new continents and many more new countries, I made countless new friends around the world, I learned to love myself more (but am still working on that), figured out how to graduate in 3 years, got my motorcycle license, bought a motorcycle, fell in love, lost my love, found new interests (rock climbing!), and forgot about others (cooking just doesn’t hit the sweet spot anymore!), and so much more. I’ve grown and I continue to learn new things about myself everyday. 

The New Year, I’m sure, will bring new challenges and new adventures, but for now, I want to think back to all the wonderful moments of 2011. There were so few bad instances that the happiness of 2011 reverberates through every bone and I’d like to hold on to that for these last few hours.

Happy New Years Eve!

From under a palm tree, with love. 

regret |riˈgret|
verb
feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that has happened or been done, esp. a loss or missed opportunity)

I haven’t ever felt this. Will I?

Cliches

There are so many cliches that could be used to describe my life right now. Firstly, it really is a roller coaster. Up and down I go and every time the little cart that is my life starts tumbling down, at every point I feel like that’s it… it can’t go much farther down… I’ve got to be at the end. And then something else happens. But, of course, then the little cart starts gradually climbing the hill again. It goes much slower than when it rides down, but it does go up. Slowly, but surely. At this point, it kind of feels like nothing could go wrong, but for a while, I don’t even realize the cart stopped moving down and started moving up. Actually, a lot of times, I don’t notice the good times until the bad ones start again. I wish it was the other way around. Why is it so easy to ignore the good, but so hard to ignore the bad? And why can’t the little cart just teeter at the top and never come down?

Almost exactly a year ago, I was on my way to China and then a string of other beautiful places. I, of course, realized that great things were happening, but I didn’t fully grasp how wonderful everything was. We could use another cliche here. Love at first sight. I had never imagined that I had such a capacity to love. I opened myself to a person, a country, a language, new friends, new experiences, and a new mindset on life. I loved someone in a way that completely shocked me. I didn’t think it was possible for me. I fell in love with a country that I almost ran away from a week prior. I was so scared of it. I was so scared that I almost called it quits and stayed home. But, something pulled me towards it. A new fascination with its culture and language became the focus of so many of my life ambitions. A strange, but welcome turn of events. I lived with a girl that became my new best friend. We got along so well. It was a beautiful friendship. My body finished its “healing” process from the torture I put it through for more than 2 years. All my organs became functional and I was eating all kinds of weird foods! I woke up every morning with a burning passion in my heart and I went to bed every night snuggled up against the person that shared all my passions for life. We would talk late into the night about… well, everything! I’d spend my days studying, but loved every second of it. If I got tired of studying, I’d go explore some new part of the city or the country on weekends. I took care of my much-loved roommate through appendicitis and more… and I worried so much. More than she knew.

Now, upon return to the U.S., I think the best cliche to use is when it rains, it pours. Oh boy is it pouring. And unlike my ignorance in China, I fully feel every little bump in the road. I’d give anything to be back there and completely ignorant of all that is to come. My first week back, I lost my new best friend and roommate. It happened suddenly and was completely unexpected. I was really hurt by her decision to hold on to one of her habits that I couldn’t be around anymore. Because of her decision, I couldn’t live with her as planned, so I came to D.C. homeless. Because of her decision, I felt betrayed and I severed all communication. Looking back, it was stupid. I’m so big on communication and here I was, doing exactly the opposite… this was the beginning of a trend of events that completely digress from what I stand for and who I believe myself to be.

I also lost him. This was pretty sudden and unexpected too. And I think I feel the pain a lot more than I even admit to myself. I hate not knowing if he’s okay. I hate not being able to be there for him if something is bothering him or just listening to him excitedly talk about things that are going on in his life. I miss having the option of being able to cook for him and I miss making sure he’s getting enough to eat. I miss having him as a support base too… a hug would fix everything and I loved the time I made myself set aside to spend with him. I dream about it at night and try to do anything possible to not think about it during the day. I convince myself that it’s nothing I could change, which is true, but at the same time, I find myself wasting time trying to come up with nonexistent solutions. I circle conversations over and over in my head. It’s like that part of the roller coaster where it goes in a loop… all the way around… except my roller coaster is just those loops over and over and over again. It’s dizzying really. It’s dizzying to try and figure out if I’d even be able to get back into the relationship were I given the option. That option doesn’t actually exist either, but even if it did, I’m not sure I could trust him again. To be honest, I think things that were said on his part weren’t 100% true. I think he really did want it to end and made excuses to make that happen. I’m sure he was scared of hurting me, but I wish I really knew what was behind us breaking up. There were no hard feelings whatsoever, but I felt betrayed nonetheless. I wasn’t mad or upset at him… I just felt betrayed by the situation as a whole. I find myself STILL waking up at night and being scared out of my mind when I don’t feel something warm next to me. Then I remember. And… I grab my huge body pillow and go back to sleep.

My body isn’t as healed as I thought it was. Nope. It seems that it can’t be regular. I gained even more weight and all those crazy body image issues are back pestering me every minute of every day. Food is an issue again. I still eat it. Always. Because to be honest, I just really am not ready to put my mom through that again. But, do I enjoy slurping up a huge bowl of noodles, followed by a milk tea like I did in China? Hell no. I bite into my stalks of celery like they’re a decadent chocolate cake because that’s how my body tends to interpret them. I count, count, and count. Every single morsel is a number. I hate my mirror, but stand in front of it criticizing for too many minutes of the day. I keep asking why in the world it matters. It just does.

I don’t find the same passion for life anymore. Actually, that’s not entirely true. It’s just true for school. I hate everything I’m doing. It’s not meaningful and I feel like it isn’t important to my life. I know that graduating is important, but I’m so glad I’ve managed to do it in 3 years, instead of 4… I might have gone crazy if I knew that I had a whole year left. I just want to study Chinese. And French. And write papers on what I want to write them on.

My mind seems to be in a million places at once. I’m totally scatter-brained. And I do things that digress from who I am.

- There have been days when I can’t get out of bed. I just sleep all day.

- I have to force myself to exercise. I used to love going on runs and now I’ve convinced myself I don’t enjoy it.

- My room has been messy on more than one occasion. I’m not messy. I’m OCD clean. Why have I let my clothes lie on shelves not folded and dust to accumulate on my bookshelves? I have a stack of ironing that hasn’t been done in more than a month. But, I love to iron.

- I procrastinate. This is REALLY new for me. I’m one of those people that does things days in advance because I just hate the feeling of doing things last minute. I almost always wait till the last minute on everything now… schoolwork and just other little things.

- I come late or I don’t come at all. I forget about commitments like meetings or coffee dates and I’ve come late to way too many classes. Coming late used to be a pet peeve.

- I get things wrong all the time. I write down that an assignment is due on the 17th when it’s really due on the 7th. I forget about things so easily!

- I don’t like to cook anymore. This is just plain ridiculous.

- I don’t volunteer anymore.

This list could seriously go on for pages and pages. They all seem like silly changes, but they’re fundamental changes to my lifestyle that just don’t make sense to me. All my feelings of worthlessness, ugliness, incompetence, whatever… culminated into a disastrous weekend. I don’t even want to talk about it to be honest. I’m embarrassed and guilt-ridden. Why do I cause so much pain to my mom? I wish I could learn a thing or two from my brother. The worst he has ever done is play too much Diablo.

I try to fix things too. I tried to use my planner, but couldn’t so now I use post-its again. At least some organization is back. My room is clean and tidy, but my closets are still a mess. I try and think happy thoughts while cooking, so I enjoy the process a bit more. For one meal a day, I don’t read or write or do anything but eat. This way, I try and appreciate that I have food to eat and don’t freak out about numbers as much. Small steps are key I guess.

Nonetheless, I don’t understand what I’m doing. I’m disappointing myself and I can’t seem to get my feet solid on the ground anymore. Speaking of feet, I sprained my ankle, got some kind of terrible throat infection, and spent a night at the hospital. All in the span of like… 3 weeks. When does it stop? For now, right here.

And… I do want to end on a good note. I write all of this because I know no one reads it and so, I write it for me. When I get really confused, I write. It lets me get everything down on paper the screen and allows me to let go of some of the bad feelings. Everything isn’t as bad as I make it out to be. And as I mentioned, the roller coaster can’t go down forever.

From my little cart, with love.

Chaos

Chaos is a necessary evil in our lives. What would life be without those rushed mornings when you throw laundry from side to side trying to find that missing sock or a clean shirt, while trying to pack your bag without forgetting something as seemingly vital as your favorite pen or chapstick, while (simultaneously of course) trying to figure out if you’ve finished all your work for that day and whether or not you need to read that last chapter as you sprint to the bus with only seconds to spare, which you use to stuff a banana in your mouth and realize that you’ve forgotten your metro card in your other purse, under the bed, or in the sock drawer… who knows at this point? Maybe it’s just me, but I love those kinds of morning sometimes. It gives me the adrenaline rush I need to get going… but… when chaos starts to reign your life… you get stuck. Stuck in a rut. Stuck in a ditch. Stuck in a well. Stuck captive in a Somalian Pirate’s boat… I don’t know. Stuck somewhere, where you can’t get out of. I actually don’t naturally think of ditches or Somalian pirates… I always seem to think of Thumbelina stuck in my very large teacup.

Right now, I feel like Thumbelina. And although she has some pretty wonderful gowns, she isn’t happy in that teacup.

For some, unhappiness stems from family problems, a failed relationship, financial troubles, lack of motivation in school and/or work, an illness, and the list goes on. For me, there’s an underlying factor to my unhappiness and I’m beginning to finally pinpoint it. Cliche as it is, I’m going to reference Eat, Pray, Love. Apparently, every single one of us has “my word.” It’s a word that defines and describes us and I’d like to change my word.

“Control”

Since I can remember, I’ve been a goal-setting (and only sometimes, achieving) maniac. When I was in 6th grade, I wrote 8 page outlines for my 4 page history readings… ridiculous. I would rewrite my math homework countless times, staying up late into the night, just so that my handwriting would be perfect and better than everyone else’s.

I’m tired of trying to be perfect… I’m tired of being trying to be better than [x].

When I don’t succeed, I get discouraged, but then I pick up something new and try my hand in that… sometimes, it works out, but mostly, I’m never satisfied. I’m never content. I set goals, but are they truly necessary to my life? Will something horrible happen if I don’t achieve them? Will I be that much better off if I do achieve them? Or will life go on. Will life, maybe, be better?

When I danced, I wanted to be the best. I had romantic dreams of attending Julliard… or at least being up to par with the other amazing girls at my studio. Was that realistic? Not with everything else I was balancing.. school, SATs, theater, friends, whatever. Was it realistic when these girls have been dancing since birth? No. Eventually, I gave up dance… I couldn’t succeed and I was tired of failure.

The same thing, but to a lesser extent, happened with my guitar lessons, my flute lessons, my Tae Kwan Doe lessons, musical theater, singing, running, speaking French, cooking, and the list goes on. If I can’t excel, as defined by me, then what the hell is the point? Never mind that I enjoyed doing each and every one of those things.

Sometimes, priorities change. When I gave up dance, there wasn’t one reason. There were external forces… such as any of my favorite teachers leaving the studio. There were internal forces. I became embarrassed to go on stage in front of all of these other girls who were so much better than me, but just the fact that I was competing in the same categories as them meant that I was improving… and maybe, if I kept going, I’d soon be on their level. Maybe I already was. Who knows? Other internal forces were coming into play at that time too… my long dance rehearsals didn’t allow me to run for tens of miles every day and cut down on eating. For some reason, I could eat very little, but still run. I couldn’t dance though. So, I decided… since I can’t dance, maybe I can be skinny and happy instead! How wrong I was. 

School… oh my goodness. I can’t describe my heart palpitations when I get a B on something. I can’t sleep for a week. I worry about it. When the next test or assignment or whatever comes along, I can’t sleep for another week because I feel like I need to balance out that B with an A++++++. I can’t look at failure. I analyze how teachers look at me. Sometimes, I feel like they think I’m not intelligent and I make it a personal vendetta to prove them wrong, but sometimes I get so discouraged, I can barely look at a professor in the eyes. I’m kind of crazy when it comes to school.

Goal? Summa Cum Laude? Analysis: Do I absolutely need it? No. Will my life be so much better off with it? No. Will something terrible happen without it? No. But, I think about it daily… who are we kidding? Hourly? Minutely? Secondly? EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF MY LIFE? Yep. I have nightmares about it…

I also have nightmares about really ridiculous things… that I’d rather just not mention. If you’ve shared a pillow with me, you probably know I’m bound to wimper… and if you’ve shared my pillow more than once, you may have even heard me cry in different languages. Often. Normal? I don’t think so. 

I like to control things. I like to control what I eat and how my food is cooked. I like to control what and how I do things. I like to control what kind of pens I use and what kind of paper I write on. I like to control how I highlight my notes. I like to control how much I exercise. I like to control how my shirts are folded. I like to control e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.

When something gets out of control, I get spun out of my “rhythm” and I don’t like it. Sometimes, when I get really into my routine, an unplanned dinner date with a friend that might interfere with my regular time to go for a run might freak me out and I’ll decline.

At the same time, I don’t like to plan things. I like to go to Indonesia with no hotel booked, no one to meet me there, and not even a direction of where I’m going. Oh, and no cash. Not that that’s a real life example or anything. :) I like the exhilaration of being spontaneous and “if I had the choice,” I’d do it all the time… that’s what I tell myself.

What I’m beginning to understand is that I do have a choice. Yeah, I can’t exactly get up and leave… I have a degree (or 2 actually) that I need to finish by May 2012. To do that, I need to go to 20 credits of classes and study for all of them too. That’s not an option. That can be a part of my routine. But there are things that can be more fluid… and it all starts with addressing this “illusion of control.”

If we really think about it, everything we think we have under control is just an illusion. What do you have control of? Something unpredictable always has a chance of popping out of nowhere and breaking that illusion of control. Always. And I feel largely unprepared for these events.

I don’t have time to make lunch and have to eat at school.

I get sick and can’t rock climb or work-out for a whole week.

I want to bake muffins for my boyfriend and run out of eggs.

My boyfriend and I break up.

I don’t do as well as I’d like on an assignment or in a class in general.

I can’t fix other people’s problems.

Pretty soon… it’s a spiral downwards into… well, the very bottom of that very, very large teacup. Let me tell you, it’s really dark down there. Sometimes, it’s so dark that I don’t even want to open my eyes in the morning to face it. Sometimes, I don’t open my eyes in the morning, or the afternoon, or the evening, and just lie in my bed… for a full 24 hours. And that doesn’t make me feel better. Sometimes, I get up and plaster a smile and a gung-ho attitude. And that doesn’t make me feel better. Sometimes, I just complain… usually to my mom. That really doesn’t make me feel better because I know I’m making things harder for her, which I then think about and have nightmares about, and then I complain about the nightmares, and it ends up in this never-ending circle.

That’s what my life has been. A series of never-ending circles. That’s not what I want my life to be

I’d like to be content. I’d really like to just… embrace the chaos. You know what… 

I WILL EMBRACE THE CHAOS.

I WILL  strive to build a willingness to just let go.

I want to be happy with what I look like. I want to wake up in the morning and say to myself “I am who I am and I love me for me.” And I’d like to actually mean it. I think that day will take a while to come, but I haven’t lost hope (I think).

I want to stop doing things to be the “perfect” me. I want to read a book because I want to read it and not because it will make me be able to have a more intelligent conversation with {insert the name of everysomeone better than me here}.

I want to run and not think about how good I used to be and how terrible I am now. I want to run and enjoy that I CAN RUN. Because you know? There was a time I couldn’t. There was a time when I found it hard to make it to class from my dorm room because I wasn’t sure I’d have the energy.

I’d like to eat food and not think about how every morsel will make me uglier. I want to think about all the best things in the food becoming all the best parts of me. I want to enjoy every taste and not have a clenching feeling in my gut every time I eat. Because you know? There was a time I could barely eat? I’d get stomachaches and my body couldn’t digest something as simple as juice, it seemed. I couldn’t stray too far from the fridge. I can eat a horse now (or rather, a dog I guess…) and be okay. I am thankful for bowel movements at the ripe age of 20.

I’d like to wake up and feel that same excitement I used to feel when I was little and going to school to learn some basic algebra and Ancient Egyptian history. Now, replace algebra with accounting and Ancient Egyptian history with U.S. foreign policy. Things to be excited for (I’m being serious if some of you were wondering). But, because I’m wading at the bottom of that teacup, I’m not… excited. I don’t find joy in things. But there is hope.

Today, I wrote some nouns that really make me happy on post-its and posted them on my wall right by my desk. Good news: I need more post-its! Here are a few of my favorites and the best part is, some of them are food! Progress already!

Books, cuddles (yes, that IS a noun), good pens, balloons, notebooks, games, pillows, color, smiles, handwritten letters, miniature bowls, teacups, earrings, candles

and for the best part…

Tea, yogurt, fruit (all kinds!), oatmeal, mint, honey (especially buckwheat)…

Call me crazy, but these things make me genuinely happy. If I see a miniature bowl in a store, especially if it’s paired with colorrrr or even better, color and glitter, I’ll carry it around the store until I leave. I almost never buy it. I don’t need it.

I look forward to my morning bowl of oatmeal like some people look forward to the SuperBowl. And sometimes, I get weird. I deny myself my oatmeal. I make up crazy reasons for why I should deny myself that oatmeal and have something else instead. Sometimes, I resist cuddles or hugs or any affection because I don’t feel like I deserve them. I like to deny myself things because it makes me feel like I’m in control. I’m not.

I can’t do certain things in public. Today, we got kit-kat bars from a professor, which is great because I kind of miss those bags full of crappy candy I’d bring back from hours of trick-or-treating. But, I couldn’t sit there in class and eat it. Everyone was doing it. I couldn’t. I stowed it away in my backpack and when I got home tonight, I ate it. Here is for all the world to know (or the 1 or 2 people that MIGHT still read this): I ate a freakin kitkat bar. And then, I ate a little fun-sized bag of Skittles! And! The treachery doesn’t stop there! I ate a mini milky-way. Ok, you can open your eyes now, I’m done. :)

It’s kind of crazy I can’t eat candy in public… sometimes… I can… but if I do, you know I really like you. I hate going out to dinner too… Just because I feel all tense and yuck. I like to sit in front of my bowl of oatmeal and just stare at every wonderful spoonful as it floats into my mouth. I like to eat alone.

In fact, I like to do a lot of things alone. I like to do most things alone. I like to go grocery shopping alone. I like to run alone. I like to read alone. I like to study alone. I like to sleep alone. I also like to do things…not alone…meaning, with people.

I like to dance with you. I like to listen to music with you. I like to drink wine with you. I like to talk with you. I like to watch a movie with you. I like to travel with you. I like to cuddle with you. Enough of that… because it really only makes me think of one person who I don’t feel like thinking about now… or I do, but I won’t.

So… hey, lets go dancing! Lets go climb a mountain! Lets go see something new…

I think small steps are key. I say this, but I’m not truly confident in the concept. I’m a go-getter. I “like” to have a million things going on… an overload of credits, jobs, internships, extra-curricular stuff, volunteering, exercise schedules, whatever… And then, I find myself in that dang teacup again! I find myself struggling to get out of bed, struggling to walk up stairs, struggling to just look at people in the eyes and say “hello.” It’s not a good position to be in because then that teacup starts seeming awfully cozy in all its darkness and alone-ness… because that’s where you “want” to be. Or think you want to be…

Starting now, I’m subtracting things from my life… not many… as I said, small steps are key! Change is good for me right now, but too much at one time, and I’m right back in that teacup… you can’t change a lifetime of perfectionism and craziness in a week. I thought you could. You can’t.

So, I’m subtracting one goal this week. An important one, for me. Summa cum laude. I’m tired of it. I don’t care. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn… I don’t think that even if I wanted to, I could “subtract” that from my life. That’s just it though, I want to learn… It’s kinda like when you’re in a job that you really hate doing, but there is that goal of earning a paycheck lurking in the back of your mind. I’m going to enjoy what I read and do as much as I can in a day. When the day is over, I’ll go to sleep knowing I did the best I could, but still have my sanity… I have high hopes for this one. :)

I’m also adding a habit, not a goal, to my life today. A habit of straying from negative verbs as much as possible. This is going to be a REALLY hard one for me. But, I can do it. :)

And that’s all I’m adding and subtracting for this week. No more. Ill add and subtract another habit and goal next week… and some weeks, I might not feel like subtracting anything or adding anything… other weeks, maybe I’ll feel up to subtracting or adding two things. Either way, I want to start living each moment true to my values that are still lurking around somewhere in my peanut.

Slowly, but surely, all that will be remaining in my teacup… is tea.

From my giraffe-shaped teacup, with love.

Almost over…

I can’t stop thinking… it’s almost over. “It” being my life in Beijing. I know, of course, that I will come back and spend more time here. In fact, I’m about 99.9% sure that I will, but it won’t be the same. I’ll be older and graduated and probably searching for a job. I won’t have the blissful life of only studying Chinese and having fun with friends on weekends. 

I’ve heard a lot of people say that study abroad programs change you, which is obvious, but I can’t figure out how China has changed me. It has brought me closer to a culture that I had lived next to in California for so long, but had never really understood. It has led me to finding a new home halfway around the world and discovering a new place to love and to miss wherever else I am. I just can’t stop thinking of how much I will miss the new friends I’ve made here and how amazing it is that such friendships can form on such limited communication. I’ve learned and grown so much that it’s hard to admit that I have to leave this place soon and start growing somewhere else… back in DC… in a very familiar environment, but one I feel I have now forgotten. 

I’m excited to leave too. I do think it’ll be time in about a months time. I’m excited to know that I won’t be consuming MSG anymore and that I won’t have the problem of ridiculous miscommunication errors. (Just the other day a lady misunderstood my order of “zhou”-  a Chinese porridge for “jiu”-liquor, so she relentlessly tried to sell me a bottle of beer at 11am until I finally wrote the character for what I wanted). It’ll be nice to walk down the street and not get asked to take my picture. It’ll be nice to see everyone whom I’ve missed so much while here. It’ll be nice to start a new semester and learn something other than Chinese and it’ll be nice to start working again… that is, if I find a place to work.

The anticipation of leaving has left me sad and happy at the same time, but mostly it has led me to spend hours a day just reflecting on my experiences here. I feel like we often move from one thing to the next without the time to really reflect on what we have just done and therefore, we are unable to grow from our experiences. After Indonesia, I barely had time to think about all the amazing things I learned while traveling alone through such a beautiful country because I was off to Africa, after which I rushed into Paris and Moscow, and a day after getting back to China I was immersed in speaking solely Chinese. When was there possibly time to reflect on anything I had done in the past few months? No time at all. I need to make time. So does everyone else! Stepping back from the daily progression of life is so important. 

From the tenth floor of the tenth building, with love. 

好久不见！

好久不见！ Hao jiu bu jian! Long time no see.

I’m not even sure where to start at this point… I have completely ignored this blog for so long. But, here I am, a little bit older, a little bit tanner, a little bit heavier, but mostly… the same! Since I’ve last written, I’ve been to Inner Mongolia, all over China, including my favorite place in China so far: Yangshuo (near Guilin), Indonesia (Bali, Gilis, and Java), Senegal, Paris, Moscow, and now, back in Beijing, of course. 

If you’re planning to visit Beijing, don’t go in the summer… it’ll give you the wrong impression of this beautiful, wonderful, spectacular place. The weather is a little bit… iffy! And, here’s a fun fact: the Chinese (Mandarin) language doesn’t have a word for “smog,” only “fog.” I think I need to come up with one… I want to use it everyday! And, since I can ONLY speak Chinese Monday-Friday… it’s a bit hard to express how I feel about the weather if I can’t say SMOG… SO MUCH SMOG. “Fog” just doesn’t cover it. Nope. No way.

So, I could talk about Indonesia, but it’s enough to say that it’s my favorite place in the world. Ever. I love it. Go. Please. Gili: Air and Trawangan during off-season. Bali: Ubud! Java: Jogjakarta! Borobudur! A beautiful country, with beautiful people, culture, and scenery.

I could also talk about Senegal, which was a bit of a disaster… so, I’d rather not ruin the mood.

I could talk about Paris, which (surprise!), I loved. I know, I’ve always said I hate Paris and people always asked me why I was studying French. I just couldn’t give them a clear answer. Well, now I know that I secretly loved Paris and France all along… I just needed a little bit of time to figure that out for myself. I’m considering that wonderful country as my next place of living. Maybe. 可能！

Obviously, not much to say about Moscow except that it was great to see family and eat too much good food… I can also say that getting a Visa in Moscow is like a bee biting you in the butt about 30 times a day for a week. (Ouch!)

Beijing… what do you think I’m going to say? I LOVE THIS PLACE. When I think about coming home, I want to cry. I miss you all, but this is one of the few places in the world I love quite this much… it really is my new home away from home. And I will truly miss it… but, I don’t want to think about that now. 

So, finally, I could talk about the program I’m in… in which I’ve moved up two levels in a week and therefore have to study like…like…study like the most hardworking people on Earth: the CHINESE! I could complain a little, but I wouldn’t want to. If you know me, you know I like the feeling of having too much to do and too little sleep. So, I love this program! 当然！ I’ve made Chinese friends and my Chinese has been improving at least daily, if not hourly. 

I could talk about a lot of things. But, I’d rather talk about now. I’d rather get a few things off my chest. I’d rather acknowledge… wow, I’ve come a long way. This time last year, I was heading home with the worst thoughts in my head. My plan was to come home and never return to AU. Never return to the life I knew. I was scared too because I wasn’t even sure if I would have a life to look forward to… now, It’s different. I have goals and I know that I have the health to complete them. The fire in my heart is hotter than ever before and I’m so glad. I’m so happy. I’m so thankful for being able to keep my life and my sanity! I’m so thankful! And yet…

Every morning, I wake up and something bothers me! There’s something in me that’s just itching at my insides and I never sure what it is. Some things that people say trigger past emotions and that trigger lasts about 3 seconds… just enough time for me to stare off into the distance for a short moment or blink a few times. No big deal. 没问题！ But, I want even these tiny itches to be gone because… well, do I need a because? Who wants bad thoughts floating around in their heads right?

When I look at old pictures of myself, I see the grayest eyes I’ve ever seen. They have no fire. No desire to live. They’re so blank it scares me. Just those eyes scare the hell out of me… not to mention what was attached to them. Usually, people notice this in my old pictures too, but today, someone told me, “wow! You look great in that picture! Why did you ever change?” Woah, a trigger! A huge, huge, huge trigger. This one lasted about a minute and now it has the lingering effect of pushing me to write this blog. I’m writing to recognize that it’s absolutely absurd to miss that blank stare; to miss those foggy eyes. I refuse to miss them. 

In any sense, I felt like it was really time for me to start writing again and I thought this would be a perfect time… It’s nice to think that in a year, a life can change so much. I know I’ve said this so many times before. But, you all know that my life revolves around my past and really, whose life doesn’t? It’s important to learn from the past and keep taking tiny steps forward, and then bigger steps, and then huge steps. And, of course, in between, everyone has a little jump backward… a hop even…a skip. So, today, I want to say, I had a skip backward, but had a leap forward… 

From behind a stack of Chinese text books, with love. 

Standing, waiting, wishing…

Oh China. How I love you. How you tire me. My VPN hasn’t worked in nearly a month. What does this mean? It means no facebook, which is not a problem, but I do want to share my pictures with the world. [By world I mean my mom.] It also means no Tumblr. So no blog posts. Also means strange Chinese Google results. Frustrating? Yes. So, I’ll write this post in a word doc before my memories start to slip away. Who knows when China will get it’s act together and let me access my VPN?

This past weekend was interesting. It was a mix of disaster gone right and plans not going to plan, but still working out in the end. On Friday, I was the only one in my Chinese class as everyone was already off traveling. Everyone seemed to decide that this weekend was the optimal weekend for travel. Ok by me! Li Laoshi [my cute Chinese teacher] took me and K [a fellow member of both this program and AKPSi back at AU] to a morning market. It was a whole nother kind of heaven. If I could, I would live off of 80% fruits and vegetables. The other 20% would be very random tidbits of things I love to eat. Examples? YOGURT. My mom’s banana bread. Soup (which technically is simply cooked vegetables). Maybe some of that Cranberry Walnut bread from TJs or a simple hunk of whole grain bread. Mmm. Maybe some Almonds on the side. And, really, that’s all I need. But, life doesn’t work that way. And that’s ok with me. My guess is if I really did 80% veggies/fruits, I’d get pretty sick of them too. Too much of a good thing isn’t always so great right?

Back on topic. Sorry.

The fruit market was awesome. Cheap Fruit. Cheap veggies. Cheap tea. Cheap dried fruits. And even some cheap peanuts. I’m not a huge fan of peanuts, but when they’re the only kind of nut offered, I’ll take ‘em! So, it was great. I made friends with the sugar cane man, who gave me some free sugar cane to nibble on. I also made friends with the strawberry man, otherwise known as sugar cane man’s friend. He was pretty awesome and demanded to take a picture with us. After taking the picture, he proceeded to also request that I come back to the market to give him that picture. I will. No problem.

After nourishing my body with beautifully nutritious fruits and a little cornbread-type biscuit Li Laoshi treated me to, I was ready for the day. So, I went rock climbing. On Beida campus because I’m part of the rock-climbing club. Joined a week ago during club week and finally decided to see what I was made out of. Uh. Let’s not talk about that. Let’s just say that it’s a lot harder when you actually use proper rock-climbing technique and my arms are pathetically weak. But, I’ll improve. A Chinese student with impeccable English taught A and I the basics and we practiced and practiced until our arms were sore and then we headed home. I had my first day of extra Chinese classes to attend after all. I was excited, but…

This is where the bad news hits. The fruit market wasn’t all heavenly. I got pick-pocketed [or I lost my wallet, but this is doubtful]. My wallet was nowhere to be found and it wouldn’t have been so tragic if my Shanghai tickets weren’t inside it. Well, they were. And we were leaving in a mere 5 hours. So, I ditched the tutoring and ran to the market. Talked to some policemen, who were very sweet as per request from my old friend, the strawberry man [I really will have to repay him in some manner eventually]. But, the wallet was not to be found, so A and I packed our bags and rushed to the train station, where we were, luckily, able to buy standing tickets. Did I mention the train to Shanghai is about 12 hours?

It was a great experience. We searched for a place to nestle in and found a little cove behind the last row of seats in a train car. We climbed in and, somehow, managed to grab a few very uncomfortable hours of sleep. It was much better than not going at all, so we were glad… even if the tickets were just as expensive as seated tickets. In essence, we were left standing, waiting for a seat to open up, and wishing the 12 hours would pass a little bit more quickly. [Currently listening to: Sitting, waiting, wishing by Jack Johnson]

Our beautiful “almost 5-star hotel” hostel made up for our lack of seats on the train. We had a TV, a little jug of hot water, a huge bed, our own shower complete with shampoo and even, towels, and we had slippers! Oh, and heating! We were told there was no heating in Shanghai. Lies. There is. In our very own hostel. And all this for a mere $10 a night. It was hard to leave the place and go exploring, but it was an absolutely gorgeous day and we had places to be.

We went to Takang Road first, which is a whole alley filled with refurbished hutongs. It’s really quite beautiful and too cute for words. I wanted to buy everything in the little stores, but I restrained myself and only bought a small finger-painting that a man made right in front of my eyes. It was $1.50. I think I’ll be okay. 

We also got our first cup of coffee, which was very much so in order after our long train ride. Reluctant as we were to leave Takang Rd, we knew we had to keep moving, and we also knew we’d be back. We had found an Indian Restaurant after all.

We walked and we walked and we got to a park. YuYuan Gardens. Beautiful. There were kids playing and adults playing drums and doing TaiChi and just sitting and enjoying the weather. It was picturesque, so picturesque that words really couldn’t explain it. The heat was making me want to go to Thailand with A or Cancun with my mom. I got a little homesick for CA and the hot summers in DC, so we decided it was again, time to move on.

We hit the French Concession where there was a whole bunch of beautiful architecture and cute little stores. We made attempts at shopping, but to no avail. We’re not very good at shopping. So, we stopped for lunch after a slightly exhausting search for what was the ideal place to stop. I was being a little picky, but we finally found a great place where we had a great lunch.

And then, we headed to another park, which was unfortunately, closing just as we got there. Bummer. We made our way to Nanjing Road. To be honest, I wasn’t a big fan. It’s just a huge shopping street with a lot of Western shops, but at much higher prices. So, we attempted shopping, and didn’t. We looked for ice cream and only found Haagen Daazs priced at over $5 for one scoop. So, we were ice cream deprived and on shopping overload.

We went to get haircuts. That’s what you do when you’ve done a lot of walking and don’t feel like moving, but also don’t feel like eating dinner yet, but also don’t feel like wasting time. You get a much needed haircut! It didn’t quite go to plan and we both looked very [how do I say this in a politically correct way? I don’t think I can] Asian. But, it’s okay. We got the best scalp massages of our lives by men! Salon work is a very male-dominated profession apparently. Not a woman hairdresser to be seen!

Then, back to Takang Rd. For an amazing Indian dinner. We sat cross-legged [or I tried to sit cross-legged] on soft couches and savored the non-Chinese dishes. It was great.

After dinner, we headed off to see the financial district, which has some of the highest skyscrapers I have ever seen. We climbed to the 85^th floor of the highest building in Shanghai to have a few drinks at the Cloud 9 Bar only to discover that there was no view at all due to the fog. And drinks were beyond expensive. What did we expect? Silly.

So, we headed to the Bund. Beautiful at night, but better in the daytime in my opinion. As we attempted to find a nice place to sit down, we ended up spending silly amounts of cab money only to venture into the Red Light District of Shanghai. I clung to A and we hailed the first cab back home. We picked up some pocky sticks and a small bottle of wine and spent a few hours playing cards. Finally, exhausted, we fell asleep.

We woke up at ten. AT TEN. AT TEN. AT TEN. I jumped out of bed [and to my surprise, so did A! What a great travel buddy!] and ran into the shower. We were ready to go in half an hour [23 minutes to be exact]. And, we were off to the People’s Square.

People’s Square was filled with kids blowing bubbles and everyone was smiling. We walked around in our T-shirts and considered going back to the hostel to put our coats away! It was hot. It was beautiful. Reluctantly, we went inside and away from the gorgeous weather to see the Shanghai Museum.

We looked at Chinese paintings, old coins and paper money, Jades, Calligraphy, and minority art works. We missed the Ceramics hall, which I was a little bummed about, but I was also eager to see sunshine again.

We ended up walking quite a bit this day. After walking from the People’s Square all the way to the Bund [again, a lot more beautiful in the day time], we ventured further across a small bridge. We saw 4 weddings and 2 photo shoots on this bridge. Oh Shanghai. And, beyond this bridge, the commercial beauty ended. We were in Lao Shanghai. Old Shanghai. Full of curvy streets with kids playing with rocks and tables surrounded by men playing cards or Mahjong. Laundry was draped from the balconies and we saw a tiny and not very clean hospital. Quite a different view of Shanghai. We could tell not many Westerners ventured this way as we kept getting strange looks as we bought some oranges and bread. Finally, we got a cab to the TV Tower.

Instead of going up the TV Tower, which was a bit too expensive for our tastes, we got a cup of, again, much-needed coffee. Cappuccino and Tiramisu. Perfect, And! Coffee is significantly cheaper in Shanghai! Almost 3 times cheaper. It’s beautiful. After this little energy boost, we walked on over to the financial district one more time where we climbed to the 54^th floor and got a more beautiful view than from the 85^th floor. Oh, and I had a photoshoot with some snails. Nice.

Finally, we headed back to pick up our backpacks and have dinner. Finding a place to eat was tough, yet again. Everything was too expensive or non-appetizing. Finally, we found a seafood restaurant and we had the first fish so far in China. We didn’t get sick. Perfect. But, it was boney and we would have preferred it to be easier to eat. Overall, a great dinner, and we even met an African-American rapper right outside the restaurant! We bought one of his CDs and he signed it for us. Maybe, if he’s famous someday, we’ll be able to fund all our future trips from proceeds of this CD. Nice.

On the train, we were beyond thankful to have seats. We sat back, relaxed, and made our way back to Beijing. Shanghai was beautiful. But, very different. A lot more Western. People didn’t speak so much Chinese and whenever I spoke Chinese to them, they seemed to want to reply in English, or if they couldn’t, they would stare in shock at the fact that I could say a few words of Mandarin. Also, Shanghainese [Shanghai has a completely different dialect] is really and truly very different from Mandarin. It was especially a problem with taxi drivers who knew no English at all and didn’t seem to understand out Mandarin either. It was strange. I would love to go back to Shanghai someday, but, in all honesty, I love Beijing and I missed it. There is more culture and more “real China” feel in Beijing. Shanghai is as Western as China will probably ever get and I don’t know if I could ever grow accustomed to that. Many of the landscapes in Shanghai were so “technology-ized” and big, that they almost looked unreal. Fantasy-like. I couldn’t believe that what I was looking at was real! I like that Beijing is older and I like that when I look at buildings here, they don’t scare me as much as 85-story buildings do!

From a tiny cove on the train and sunny Shanghai, with love. 

To heaven and back in just a short weekend

Thinking about this past weekend makes my heart beat 1000x/sec. I get slightly lightheaded just thinking about how great it was. I can definitely say it was one of my favorites since I have been in China. The only thing that dampened it was my constant worry for A as she was suffering in the hospital. There I was, having fun, and she was off in a hospital bed getting her appendix taken care of. I am just glad that now, all is well and she is on her way to total recovery. Thank goodness.

Saturday, there was a planned trip to Great Wall with the whole program here. Quite a few people decided not to attend, but those who did were so glad that they did. It was, well, GREAT. Seeing the wall slither along the hillside off into the distance was one of the most sensational things I have ever seen. I automatically jumped back to history class in 6^th grade as we learned about all the different Chinese Dynasties and saw pictures of the Wall in our books. At that time, I might as well have been looking at pictures of Mars. I really never thought I’d actually see this place in real life. But, I did. And it was better than in the books. It was just one of those things you look at. No, you don’t look at it… you stare at it. And yet, you feel like you’re not really there. It feels like you’re dreaming and that there is just absolutely no way that a place like this could actually exist. No way. But, it does. And it’s standing there waiting for you to take it all in. Waiting for you to hold your breath as you make your way up its steep sides. Waiting for you to gasp for clean cold air when you finally make it to the top and see just how great it is. I think great is the only adjective you can use to describe it. Any fancier words sound like you’re trying too hard, but not succeeding. Great is simply great and to see how great it is, you have to just… go there [or look at my photos for a preview and some motivation to book a plane ticket NOW].

And that was my wonderful weekend.

Actually, not so much.

It’d be enough for me to see the Great Wall and call it a wonderful weekend, but my story doesn’t end there. In fact, the Great Wall was just a warm-up for what was in store on Sunday.

A while ago, I’d found this park, actually, this mountain, in the vicinity of Beijing. And, of course, with my passion for climbing anything that’s slightly taller than me [including my grandpa’s shoulders when I was little], I decided early on that I would climb that mountain. Nobody showed quite as much enthusiasm for my mountain, but I did end up convincing 3 boys to come along, one of them being AA. So, AA, S, and I all skipped out on Saturday night festivities and settled in for a quiet night in Shaoyuan dorms. AA and I watched a movie and went to bed around midnight. Beautiful.

We left the next morning around 715am and after a little bit of a tough time in finding the bus stop, we paid our 40mao [less than a kuai, so about a nickel] and were off to somewhere. We met an old lady on the bus that decided she really liked me because I offered my seat to another elderly woman [wouldn’t anyone do that? I guess not in China].  And, then, she decided to help. Unfortunately, this meant that she got our hearts racing as she kept telling us we were on the wrong bus. After about an hour and a half and a turn down a tiny dirt road passing small shacks and innumerable baozi [steamed dumpling] stands, we got to some kind of mountain. It was the end of the line and most passengers were long gone, so we stepped down, out of the bus, and began our journey up to the mountain.

We paid a small admission fee of about $4 and headed towards boredom? Excitement? Adventure? Who knows what? We were first greeted by a “Magic Spring,” where we all took a swig of fresh [and magical]spring water to help us on our journey up the “Stairs to Heaven.”

Upon P’s sudden urge to take a detour, we took a side road called “Trail to Top of the Caves.” I think the word caves caught everyone’s eye, and the detour didn’t disappoint. We did indeed hit some climb-worthy caves, but unfortunately, the looping trail to the “Stairs of Heaven” was filled with rock and therefore, impassable. So, we turned back, and made our way back down, down, down to the next trail.

On the “Stairs to Heaven,” we went up, up, up, and even further up. I think most of us wondered whether it would ever end, and were faced with conflicting emotions of wanting to give our legs a rest from climbing thousands of steps [definitely more than 108 step as the internet stated and blatantly lied], and of wanting to go even higher; to see something even more majestic and beautiful than what we were already witnessing.

Finally, we did indeed get to the top, and I do believe we were pretty darn close to heaven. After snacking on some bananas and finishing the little water we had left, we headed down a different path. And let me tell you, the weather is quite different in heaven. It snows there. And the roads are covered in ice. It’s beautiful, but a little bit menacing as well. We slipped and slithered down the narrow paths, with several falls [mostly in the case of AA <3] and I don’t know what we would have done without the magic that the magic spring bestowed unto us. Although the magic spring also did something else for me and I have never been so happy to see a Chinese hole in the ground in my life.

After a long day of hiking, climbing, falling, and gazing at the sights with our mouths open, we all decided it was time to fill those mouths with a little more than clean air [which was a blessing in itself]. We stopped at a tiny shack, the only one in the near vicinity, where we earlier saw a wrinkled woman making jiaozi [another dumpling resembling Russian pelmeni]. The men ordered 50 jiaozi to share amongst themselves. Actually, wait, I ordered for the men. Yes, that’s right, I was better understood than the people who had studied Chinese for over 2 years. Sweet. I even had a full on conversation with the lady and once again, she decided I was a sufficient Westerner who she could allow herself to like. Again, so sweet.

Jiaozi and glue corn [I decided to give it another try and it was much more delicious from my new wrinkled friend] settled comfortably in our tummies, we made our way to the bus stop. We then proceeded to take the bumpy bus ride home. Some of us were lucky enough to nap, and others [me] were lucky enough to see the sights for just a tad bit longer. The next series of events was uneventful: bus, subway, walk, HOME.

How good it was to be home. How good it felt to shower the dirt away. How not-so good it felt to breathe Beijing air again. Oh, but wait, I forgot to mention that this park was actually IN Beijing. And not only was it in Beijing , but it was IN Haidian District, the same district that I live in. So, you can take an hour and a half bus ride, followed by a 20-minute subway ride, and still be in the same district of Beijing. It’s vast indeed. You can go from having the cleanest air, to having pretty darn dirty air. It’s huge. It really is. I wonder how many zip codes it has.

And, that was my epic weekend. The update is a little bit late, but I did have quite a bit of planning to do this week for my next epic weekend: Shanghai here I come!

From Heaven, with love.