Now and Here, Then and There
In three weeks I will move to Qingdao, China to teach at a university.
I am of course quite excited but it’s discouraging when everyone around me questions my choice in either puzzlement or mockery. My decision to teach in China was a difficult one. It’s not nearly as convenient as going to Korea. There is no cute recruiter to politely help me over the phone. I have to take care of the visa and airfare myself as well as verify the legitimacy of the school. Chinese schools are infamous for swindling. I am quite concerned about my move and my family only reinforces my anxiety.
I have been thinking a lot about my Aunt’s question. Bob put it more callously, saying to my parents “What did you do to make him dislike his home so much that he wants to go to foreign countries all the time?”
I could easily redirect that question to Bob’s own sedentary lifestyle. But I think I could answer them, if they’d pardon my sentiment. Ya see, the world is a mystery, a colossal mosaic of shit and wonder. I dwell on this mystery because it interests me that it seems to go on despite itself. I dwell because I want to live, and the world feels like a reflection of my life’s riddle, only worthwhile.
That and the food, oh the food.
I am of course quite excited but it’s discouraging when everyone around me questions my choice in either puzzlement or mockery. My decision to teach in China was a difficult one. It’s not nearly as convenient as going to Korea. There is no cute recruiter to politely help me over the phone. I have to take care of the visa and airfare myself as well as verify the legitimacy of the school. Chinese schools are infamous for swindling. I am quite concerned about my move and my family only reinforces my anxiety.
I have been thinking a lot about my Aunt’s question. Bob put it more callously, saying to my parents “What did you do to make him dislike his home so much that he wants to go to foreign countries all the time?”
I could easily redirect that question to Bob’s own sedentary lifestyle. But I think I could answer them, if they’d pardon my sentiment. Ya see, the world is a mystery, a colossal mosaic of shit and wonder. I dwell on this mystery because it interests me that it seems to go on despite itself. I dwell because I want to live, and the world feels like a reflection of my life’s riddle, only worthwhile.
That and the food, oh the food.