A crossroad
Two months have already passed since my new life in Shanghai began.
Shanghai still feels as natural as ever to me, so natural that when I hear people around me speak Chinese and actually understand it--well, it just doesn't phase me anymore. Everything has become a regular pattern; wake up in the morning, ride the bus to work, work a nine hour shift and then take the bus back home. I live a life very similar to that of a typical businessman in the states; but instead, here I am in some foreign land.
I remembered taking Chinese in university today. Tuan was setting next to me, and we both did not think much of learning Mandarin. More than anything, it was a means of passing time. Back then, I never could have imagined that I would be in Shanghai a mere five years later working at a company in Japanese. In university I studied Chinese so diligently, with passion and fervor, interest so bold and deep that Japanese seemed lapse past into the background.
It's weird. The view of waitan in Shanghai is what makes the city famous, and although it's just a group of skyscrapers bunched together near a river, the view never fails to leave you breathless, stare into the colorful city and think about life.
"When I first came to Shanghai, I looked at waitan and thought about the bright future ahead of me. I wanted to succeed, and I wanted to do it here."
"I'm at waitan, Mary... and it gets me thinking--doesn't it do the same to you?"
I'm not quite sure what I thought when I first laid eyes on waitan, but now when I look at it I felt like I made a head on collision with destiny. This is the place I need to be. This is where I belong.
Work is hard, and to be honest, my mind is still a bit confused. I feel at peace and relaxed with myself as whole (not like the mess I was in America), but at 25 I think we all start to think about things. When people ask me what my dream or goal is, I don't quite know how to respond anymore. I want to do marketing, public relations, a job with Japanese--but these just feel like mere platitudes I have to say to satiate the public. I wouldn't say I'm lacking passion to do the unthinkable (hell, I came to Shanghai with a one way ticket to look for work), but my motivation to achieve some higher goal, some meaningful success with the fruits of my hard labor--well, that bit of motivation is slowly dwindling... and it scares me.
I really have to sit down and think hard about what I want. What will make me happy.
I asked Ken, "What is your dream?"
He was reluctant, said that he wasn't the type of person to talk about such things, was a bit embarrassed to be so open and emotional--but in the end, he finally said:
"Be with the ones I love and make them happy."
When I heard this sentence, so simple yet enriched with meaning, I fell silent. Maybe we all think a little too much sometimes. Maybe it's just about the simple things. About the happiness of your friends, your lover, your family--and this, in return, gives you a joy that lasts for eternity. I hope one day I have the power and ability to give the ones I love happiness.
I found my perfect man. He's young, but wise; firm in responsibility, but gentle in action; a man of few words, but says all the right ones. It's the first time in my life I can truly say that he is perfect for me. I want to be with him, I think about him constantly, and his comforting words are the medicine that gets me through a rough day at work.
After meeting Ken, I realized what kind of man I want. I know just what kind of traits and attitude that I need for a man to possess, and Ken holds all of them. I want someone to say the things I want to hear, I want someone to be gentle with me, to respect me for who I am, to pet me when I'm tired and praise me when I do well. I want someone honest, but honest with a soothing softness that comforts instead of scolds. I want a man that sees no international barriers. I want you.
Anyway....
goodnight.
Shanghai still feels as natural as ever to me, so natural that when I hear people around me speak Chinese and actually understand it--well, it just doesn't phase me anymore. Everything has become a regular pattern; wake up in the morning, ride the bus to work, work a nine hour shift and then take the bus back home. I live a life very similar to that of a typical businessman in the states; but instead, here I am in some foreign land.
I remembered taking Chinese in university today. Tuan was setting next to me, and we both did not think much of learning Mandarin. More than anything, it was a means of passing time. Back then, I never could have imagined that I would be in Shanghai a mere five years later working at a company in Japanese. In university I studied Chinese so diligently, with passion and fervor, interest so bold and deep that Japanese seemed lapse past into the background.
It's weird. The view of waitan in Shanghai is what makes the city famous, and although it's just a group of skyscrapers bunched together near a river, the view never fails to leave you breathless, stare into the colorful city and think about life.
"When I first came to Shanghai, I looked at waitan and thought about the bright future ahead of me. I wanted to succeed, and I wanted to do it here."
"I'm at waitan, Mary... and it gets me thinking--doesn't it do the same to you?"
I'm not quite sure what I thought when I first laid eyes on waitan, but now when I look at it I felt like I made a head on collision with destiny. This is the place I need to be. This is where I belong.
Work is hard, and to be honest, my mind is still a bit confused. I feel at peace and relaxed with myself as whole (not like the mess I was in America), but at 25 I think we all start to think about things. When people ask me what my dream or goal is, I don't quite know how to respond anymore. I want to do marketing, public relations, a job with Japanese--but these just feel like mere platitudes I have to say to satiate the public. I wouldn't say I'm lacking passion to do the unthinkable (hell, I came to Shanghai with a one way ticket to look for work), but my motivation to achieve some higher goal, some meaningful success with the fruits of my hard labor--well, that bit of motivation is slowly dwindling... and it scares me.
I really have to sit down and think hard about what I want. What will make me happy.
I asked Ken, "What is your dream?"
He was reluctant, said that he wasn't the type of person to talk about such things, was a bit embarrassed to be so open and emotional--but in the end, he finally said:
"Be with the ones I love and make them happy."
When I heard this sentence, so simple yet enriched with meaning, I fell silent. Maybe we all think a little too much sometimes. Maybe it's just about the simple things. About the happiness of your friends, your lover, your family--and this, in return, gives you a joy that lasts for eternity. I hope one day I have the power and ability to give the ones I love happiness.
I found my perfect man. He's young, but wise; firm in responsibility, but gentle in action; a man of few words, but says all the right ones. It's the first time in my life I can truly say that he is perfect for me. I want to be with him, I think about him constantly, and his comforting words are the medicine that gets me through a rough day at work.
After meeting Ken, I realized what kind of man I want. I know just what kind of traits and attitude that I need for a man to possess, and Ken holds all of them. I want someone to say the things I want to hear, I want someone to be gentle with me, to respect me for who I am, to pet me when I'm tired and praise me when I do well. I want someone honest, but honest with a soothing softness that comforts instead of scolds. I want a man that sees no international barriers. I want you.
Anyway....
goodnight.