Reminiscing
Whilst I was preparing for my GRE, I couldn't help but think about how at this exact time last year, I was in China, enjoying their food, culture, WEATHER (I still can't believe it's in the 70s still - then again, I can because I, unfortunately, reside in Texas and oh how I hate that fact)... Honestly, this came about last night when one of my good friends that I made while there had messaged me talking about how she was looking through all our old pictures from China (I have TONS of albums dedicated to them online, which is probably why ever since I came back, my camera has been acting funny) and how we all must meet up soon. It's a common thing to say when we all find the time to talk to one another. Funny enough, we talk to one another pretty regularly.
So, of course, I had to look over to the album she was looking through and commented on - it was the album I dedicated to Halloween in Beijing.
It's funny how it's almost Halloween here and I feel pretty much nothing (and will probably do nothing for it, though I still wish to go trick or treat-ing once more) while when I was there, we went out for sushi. OK, so it isn't your traditional Halloween celebration, but it was for me. Plus, American candy is becoming much too sweet for my palate so I was pretty happy stuffing myself with more healthier foods. Not to mention much more cheaper than here.
Then that thought led to more - all revolving around the thought bubble of mine titled "Time in China." I realised that although it wasn't all that long ago and I know I went there, it all seems far away. Sort of like a dream. A nice dream that I feel was too good to be true. Every day was an adventure and if it wasn't, it still felt like one. It was my first time out of the country and I did so much -- trekked across the foothills of the Himalayas, lived and hung out with Tibetans for a week or so, learned intensive Chinese from 8 AM - 12:10 PM daily while learning it as you go along in daily life, so many shopping centers to go to, cheap sushi, made friends with rather cute guys at a hair salon who gave me great discounts, had guys chase after me (I actually don't want to go through that again), travelled alone with friends across China on our long weekend, the ability to be able to bargain the prices down no matter how low they already were...
It was amazing! So of course it felt like a dream... except for the fact that a good 30 to 40% of my clothes I have now come from there, not to mention some souvenirs and other things like DVDs and CDs.
But now, all I have are pictures, a line of Tibetan praying flags, a couple of outfits, a set of chopsticks, some posters, an entire binder of DVDs, a stack of CDs, my increased (and consequently steadily decreased) knowledge of Chinese, and a couple of good friends that I've only known for a couple of months but whom I talk to even more than friends I've known for years.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm missing something here. Sure, I no longer feel as personal with the things and people around me because I either take the bus everywhere or my car. There's no more walking anywhere besides between classes and to/from the bus/car. There's no more heated bargaining between me and the seller. No more luscious yoghurt and milk in insulated packets. I even miss the 20 minute walk to and from the market and the mystery smell (that borders on foul) that assaults one's nose in some small alleyway. I miss the grey, polluted skies that makes me feel safe leaving the safety of my room without sunblock and I miss the fast-cooling weather - a handful of blue skies a month are good enough for me! I even miss the daily quizzes on 50+ words and phrases and the tri-weekly tests - I even miss waking up for that 4-hour long class that starts way too early for me to even understand English, never mind Chinese. haha... you can even say I miss the squating toilets (aka porcelain bowl-in-the-ground) because that would mean I'd be back in China (well, Asia) again.
I think the thing is that everything there was fresh and new to me but even so, I got used to everything and the drastic changes within 3 days, tops. I had finally left my country that I've been since birth to one that's different in almost every way possible. I left, I arrived, I embraced, I lived, worked, and played hard. And when it was time for me to leave, I wasn't ready. But I had to. Because I had a round trip ticket and I'm not rich so I couldn't just cancel and reschedule and find and pay for lodging.
I still go through all my online photos from my time there around once a month or so. I talk with my friends I made there at least once a week. I reminisce about the walnut-flavoured milk and the melt-in-your-mouth green tea cookies from the bakery next to campus and when I go to the markets and I'm painfully reminded how it'll be a long while until I get my next batch of milk powder disks and bread-on-a-stick.
In the end, what really tickles me funny is how I think I did more work in the four months I spent there, even while going out almost every night, than in all my years in college up 'till now. All I can think up of as reasoning is there's limited motivation for me here... and that a part of me may still be under slight depression from having left China so suddenly.
I sort of wish it goes away soon (real soon) - but then I don't want to lose the magical veil China had left over me.
If my mother was here to hear this, she'd give me this look that says "I don't understand you - are you stupid?" and then go off on another lecture on how our ancestors left China for a better place and now all I want to do is go back. O_o To clarify, I don't know if I'll live there, or at least not for too long. :)
After my first taste of it, I've concluded that my pre-existing hypothesis was right: I like traveling and I can totally see myself leap-frogging all across the world.
So, of course, I had to look over to the album she was looking through and commented on - it was the album I dedicated to Halloween in Beijing.
It's funny how it's almost Halloween here and I feel pretty much nothing (and will probably do nothing for it, though I still wish to go trick or treat-ing once more) while when I was there, we went out for sushi. OK, so it isn't your traditional Halloween celebration, but it was for me. Plus, American candy is becoming much too sweet for my palate so I was pretty happy stuffing myself with more healthier foods. Not to mention much more cheaper than here.
Then that thought led to more - all revolving around the thought bubble of mine titled "Time in China." I realised that although it wasn't all that long ago and I know I went there, it all seems far away. Sort of like a dream. A nice dream that I feel was too good to be true. Every day was an adventure and if it wasn't, it still felt like one. It was my first time out of the country and I did so much -- trekked across the foothills of the Himalayas, lived and hung out with Tibetans for a week or so, learned intensive Chinese from 8 AM - 12:10 PM daily while learning it as you go along in daily life, so many shopping centers to go to, cheap sushi, made friends with rather cute guys at a hair salon who gave me great discounts, had guys chase after me (I actually don't want to go through that again), travelled alone with friends across China on our long weekend, the ability to be able to bargain the prices down no matter how low they already were...
It was amazing! So of course it felt like a dream... except for the fact that a good 30 to 40% of my clothes I have now come from there, not to mention some souvenirs and other things like DVDs and CDs.
But now, all I have are pictures, a line of Tibetan praying flags, a couple of outfits, a set of chopsticks, some posters, an entire binder of DVDs, a stack of CDs, my increased (and consequently steadily decreased) knowledge of Chinese, and a couple of good friends that I've only known for a couple of months but whom I talk to even more than friends I've known for years.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm missing something here. Sure, I no longer feel as personal with the things and people around me because I either take the bus everywhere or my car. There's no more walking anywhere besides between classes and to/from the bus/car. There's no more heated bargaining between me and the seller. No more luscious yoghurt and milk in insulated packets. I even miss the 20 minute walk to and from the market and the mystery smell (that borders on foul) that assaults one's nose in some small alleyway. I miss the grey, polluted skies that makes me feel safe leaving the safety of my room without sunblock and I miss the fast-cooling weather - a handful of blue skies a month are good enough for me! I even miss the daily quizzes on 50+ words and phrases and the tri-weekly tests - I even miss waking up for that 4-hour long class that starts way too early for me to even understand English, never mind Chinese. haha... you can even say I miss the squating toilets (aka porcelain bowl-in-the-ground) because that would mean I'd be back in China (well, Asia) again.
I think the thing is that everything there was fresh and new to me but even so, I got used to everything and the drastic changes within 3 days, tops. I had finally left my country that I've been since birth to one that's different in almost every way possible. I left, I arrived, I embraced, I lived, worked, and played hard. And when it was time for me to leave, I wasn't ready. But I had to. Because I had a round trip ticket and I'm not rich so I couldn't just cancel and reschedule and find and pay for lodging.
I still go through all my online photos from my time there around once a month or so. I talk with my friends I made there at least once a week. I reminisce about the walnut-flavoured milk and the melt-in-your-mouth green tea cookies from the bakery next to campus and when I go to the markets and I'm painfully reminded how it'll be a long while until I get my next batch of milk powder disks and bread-on-a-stick.
In the end, what really tickles me funny is how I think I did more work in the four months I spent there, even while going out almost every night, than in all my years in college up 'till now. All I can think up of as reasoning is there's limited motivation for me here... and that a part of me may still be under slight depression from having left China so suddenly.
I sort of wish it goes away soon (real soon) - but then I don't want to lose the magical veil China had left over me.
If my mother was here to hear this, she'd give me this look that says "I don't understand you - are you stupid?" and then go off on another lecture on how our ancestors left China for a better place and now all I want to do is go back. O_o To clarify, I don't know if I'll live there, or at least not for too long. :)
After my first taste of it, I've concluded that my pre-existing hypothesis was right: I like traveling and I can totally see myself leap-frogging all across the world.