密歇根人在中国

I’m a big proponent of getting to know the place you’re in, regardless of how long you might stay. I go for walks around my neighborhood, whether I've lived there my entire life or I'll only be staying the night. It’s grounding for me, so on the first day of the Lunar New Year and my third day in China I got up the motivation – and stamina, amid all the crowds and smells and fireworks – to venture out of NLGX. 

Wearing a red skirt (it’s auspicious for the new year!), I headed to Jingshan, a series of temples on a large hill overlooking the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square to the south and the Drum and Bell Towers to the north. Beijing is set up like a grid and Jingshan is nearly at the heart of it. The mountain was thought to block bad qi that might have come from the north to harm the emperor.  

I was embracing the fact that I was out and about, learning to be more independent, when a British guy approached me and started chatting. He lives in Doha, Qatar, was in Beijing for four days total, and it was his last day. He asked if I’d take a picture of him on the steps, and as we continued chatting it was decided that I’d take him to the next site he was interested in, the Temple of Heaven. It wasn’t as though I had any commitments.

The two main things about Adam (apart from the British accent – “Sam, your wish is my command.” “Oh, whatever.” “You know that if a dashing British gentleman such as myself were to say that to any of your friends, it would melt their hearts, right? And then there’s Sam, and you’re like [Valley Girl accent] ‘what-everrr,’”) were that he was tall and very snarky. We got along well, but for everything that I do know about Beijing, China, and Chinese culture, Adam would ask me two things I had no idea about and then tease me relentlessly for my "ignorance." 

At the Temple of Heaven we came across a monstrous crowd watching a reenactment of the emperor along with costumed dancers wielding swords and feathers. (“Tickle sticks,” as Adam called them. “No wonder they couldn’t keep the Mongols away.”) Next we went to the Echo Wall, which was also completely crawling with people, though I was clueless about this one as well. 

As we were leaving we were accosted by street vendors selling snacks and silly souvenirs for the temple. Adam wanted to try tang hulu, fruit on a stick with caramelized sugar, so we bought two. Just as we started eating them a man came up and insisted that Adam wanted to buy a silly model of the temple that looked like it was made out of Popsicle sticks. As I argued in my best Chinese that he didn’t want it, it was way too expensive, and that he thought it was ugly, Adam goes, “30 quid, I’ll take it!” They must have made some sort of eye contact where this understanding had passed between them, because I was totally not on the same page. As he stuffed it haphazardly into his backpack he dropped his tang hulu, sacrificing it to the dirty ground. He’d been talking about it since we met and barely had a chance to try it.

We ended up in a cab and went to the Drum Tower, another famous Beijing “thing.” We climbed the steep steps to overlook the gulou area. (“China has a thing with gradients, don’t they?” they’re either unnecessarily spread out or dangerously steep and skinny.) From the drum tower you can see Houhai – a reservoir surrounded by a charming bar district, currently with great ice skating – and due south is Jingshan, where we had started.

As we were about to leave we realized we had just hit the last drum performance of the day. Men dressed in traditional clothing (and Nikes) came out of the woodwork and did a powerful chest-thudding routine. We left and headed to Houhai, where we got warm chestnuts (and compliments on our Chinese – mine was ordering the chestnuts, Adam’s was saying “Happy New Year” after asking me twice) and overpriced bottles of Yanjing beer. 

We walked around the lake and met up with Luke - who I recently started dating - for dinner at a hotpot restaurant nearby, and as we toasted beer and baijiu through the evening, Adam would enthusiastically let me know how much he approved of Luke anytime he was out of earshot. “But you’ll always be my favorite, Sam, don’t you worry.”  

Well-suited to lots of toasting and great conversation, hotpot is a boiling vessel of broth set into the table to which you add raw meat, noodles, mushrooms, greens, and anything else edible, and fish it out with chopsticks. We have some fantastic photos, but they're isolated on some Brit's laptop in Qatar; he just can't seem to figure out how to share them. Between the food safety and the rolling boil, hotpot is an exciting and dangerous way to eat. I was ecstatic however because it was my first full Chinese-style meal and because Adam was such a fan of Luke and vice versa. ("Let's just appreciate him for his magnificent beard and the haircut that I couldn't pull off because, let's face it, I don't have enough up there.") 

After dinner we walked back to Nanluoguxiang among constant fireworks and had several more drinks at a number of different hipster establishments before stumbling to the end of the hutong and putting Adam in a cab to the airport, thus concluding my first random adventure and an all-around fantastic day in Beijing.

I think one of people's most vocalized reservations about visiting Asia is the flight – an obvious concern. My personal belief is that a flight (financial or duration) should not stand in the way from a potentially life-changing adventure, to the best of one’s ability. I’m sure there are plenty of exceptions, but I don’t personally want it to be a thing that stops me, hellish though it may be. 

For those of you who have a max number of hours in a typical flight, here's how it went down for me this round.

Find your gate and get your visa checked. Everyone actually lines up to board on this flight. It’s the last line you’ll see until your return to the States. It’s also the moment when people start noticing you for being one of a few foreigners, you start wondering what the others are doing but feel weird asking, and you realize you’ve forgotten pretty much all of your Chinese.

Board the plane an hour early, and then wait an additional hour for some reason or another. This time it was a mechanical issue with the door. I had just started talking to the woman next to me when the sleepy girl plopped down between us. She kept leaning forward and bumping her head on the seat in front of her, which turned on the TV, which would wake her up in a daze and wondering why her mini TV is on. Vicious cycle.

So you sit in silence browsing the movie options and once you’re at a proper cruising altitude and start to doze, give in.

That nap that you think is going to take you at least to northern Canada ends before the tip of Michigan's upper peninsula. You’ve waited as long as you can to check the flight map, because you want to be really far, but no, you’re barely past the starting point.

Time for a movie! Tons of new releases! I wonder if there are studies relating altitude to attention span. Take turns between dozing and the movie until you can’t stand it. When lunch comes, pick a real movie that you’ll devote your time to. I got pretty attached to the characters in The Descendants... and also questioned why I wasn't en route to Hawaii. It’s over, it’s nap time.

Now read a bit more. Journal some, browse movies and watch a French film starring Audrey Tautou. This actually has become tradition for me, I think it’s the third time I’ve watched one of her movies on this flight. At this point, we’re six hours in and in need of a bathroom break, but seat B is still passed out. She’s a miracle. Eventually you give in because the awkwardness is so much more bearable than an exploding bladder.

Did I mention continually checking outside for anything interesting out the window? The flight attendants get upset when you keep the shade open, but what are they going to say if you only open it for a few seconds every couple of minutes? I paid a month’s salary, week’s vacation in Florida, a cheap used car, some serious credit hours at a college, my life savings - what's it mean to you? - enough to be able to open my window shade whenever I please, as far as I’m concerned (as my knees bump the seat back ahead of me).

During the summer and fall after college graduation, my life was in shambles. Everything that had made my sense of self constant and reassuring had either been cast aside or completely trampled. Because I felt like I needed to stay near home - despite the fact that my concepts of "family" and "home" were slipping out from under me - I moved to West Michigan. After only a few months of continued drama, I realized that sometimes it's better to keep your chin up and rise from the ashes. (Holy metaphors. Just trying to set up this whole China move thing without getting too personal.) 

My way of doing this was to follow my academic and personal pursuits and move to China. I looked into a simple vacation, teaching, and other opportunities, but finally settled on some career-building agritech stuff that we'll get into more later. This would bring me to Beijing, which is far from my - or anyone's, I think - ideal city, but it is full of opportunities... and feels something like home. 

A lot of people - particularly coworkers - were blown away by this decision. It sounds pretty exotic and pretty crazy, but honestly, it felt like a safer move for my mental and emotional health (if not physical) than anywhere I could think of in the US. 

My last 24 hours in West Michigan couldn't have been much closer to the perfect end for my time there - the only exception being how much stuff I had accumulated. Someday I will be able to pack my life into two suitcases (preferably one) and just go. I’m working on it, but I’m not there yet. (Maybe some time at a yoga retreat?) I ended up with two checked bags and two carry-on bags... in addition to the trailer full of stuff that went home, but still lighter than many people travel. 

On my last afternoon, we ate at Logan’s Roadhouse per my request because steak is pretty tough to find in China. I mean, picture eating a filet with chopsticks.

My best friend (and major support system through the summer and fall) and I grabbed a drink at Monarch’s, said goodbye to a few new friends, and I dropped her off at what seemed like a super fun Sunday evening. It was difficult; I couldn’t have asked for a better person to help me through this fall.

The trip to my aunt and uncle's house was my last time driving my beautiful red Yaris (my other best friend through the fall and winter).

Some people begin to pack weeks in advance, but I can only think about it for so long before I begin to go crazy, and that was already starting to happen. I tied up a few loose ends – called the bank, got a VPN, etc. Before bed, I finally got nervous. There’s a lot of open-ended leap of faith goin’ on in this plan. I’m okay with it, but I have waves of nerves and the tide was rising as I went to bed.

The next morning, my aunt and cousins braved terrible roads to get me safely to the airport. Despite the slow traffic, everything went smoothly once I got in the airport –and the bags I had been worried about for days were 49.5 and 40.5 lbs. Win.

We were taken to Xiaolongdi, one of the Yellow River's more notable dams, on a smoggy Sunday in Luoyang. Things to note: 

1) It wasn't fog or rain, the reason you can barely see across the river is smog

2) The greenery is the ecological restoration area and park for tourists... but over 200,000 people were moved to create the dam.

3) Another cute kid!

4) The reason I look so unhappy in the one picture is that you'll notice the mud on my forehead in the next photo. I did not want Yellow River mud on my head or anywhere near my body.

Some of our big meetings in town halls and with officials.

Kugua: Bitter Melon. So bitter.

It may grow all neat on a vine in a greenhouse, hanging in the air, but don't trust it. (This picture is from a neat greenhouse we went to after the most exquisite banquet ever, where we found out all the vegetables we'd just eaten were organic and mostly hydroponic. Okay I see you, China.)

Hejin: a place that few foreigners see. Because there's literally no appeal.

This is China's great salt lake, located just outside Yuncheng city. The lake is drying up, and the salt industry... I'm not sure about, to be honest. One of the groups is researching the lake so I'll know more after Sunday.