Rich is Bitter
I hope you enjoy this post of me sharing some semi-philosophical thoughts and epiphanies I've had, rambling on about peanut butter, and looking forward to what the future holds.
A few weeks before leaving the States we visited with the Diehls, friends who lived in China for a year with their young children back in 2016. We asked them what to expect, what was hard to find in China; which was at that time a far away place full of undefined realities. They gave us wonderful advice and encouragement, by the end of our conversation we were all completely hyped for the new adventure. Unease and fear were replaced with hope and courage. The most outstanding piece of advice was "Just always know that no matter how bad or crazy the situation may seem, it will work out. Everything will work out." Those four words have been our mantra thus far. It has saved our minds from complete insanity during our stressful travels, getting settled, finding a school, a tutor, sometimes dinner. And yes, everything has worked out, charmingly.
The Diehls also told us that the first six weeks are the hardest. (I'm paraphrasing) "Plan on crying, plan on seriously reconsidering what the HECK you're doing. Plan on getting tired of not being able to read any of the signs, or the menus, or the buttons on your appliances. But after those first several weeks you'll start to find a routine. You'll find the good restaurants and figure out how to get around. You'll meet a few friends, everything will settle, it will begin to feel like home. Just get through those first six weeks and it will get easier." This seemed like wonderful advice. People told us a lot of things before we left. "Don't drink the water", "Get used to people asking to take photos with you", "They'll touch your hair", "You'll have to soak all your produce" or "you'll get sick if you eat fresh produce", "Chinese people are not kind to foreigners", "I hope you can live without peanut butter!", etc. Well...
For the most part nearly all of this well meaning advice hasn't been true or needed. I'm sure it has a lot to do with where we are living. Hangzhou is pretty western and civil. While we rarely see other foreigners they're around and people are respectful. We have gotten used to being stared at and we sometimes notice people "discreetly filming" the beautiful grocery store aisels or side walk vistas as we walk by. Audrey and Paige have been asked twice by cute elderly women in our apartment complex for a photo, otherwise we haven't experienced this myth to be true. I'm sure if we go somewhere more remote we might notice it more but for now we're happy to snuggle up at home and eat some pb&j's on mediocre bread. (also we found larger sizes of peanut butter jars! We got a couple for "food storage". Don't ask why they're all a different brand. Okay fine. It's because when you're walking through an exotic supermarket and most everything is different, and you see something that you know. Oh you snatch that up. There isn't even rational thinking about it. Nope. Don't worry that you have two full ones at home just take it. Act on your carnal-expatriat comfort seeking desires.)
Well anyway, today marks six weeks since we landed in Shanghai. And just like so many little bits of personal truths people told us, "the six weeks and then its easy" might not apply to us. Life and travel are completely unique experiences. While the Diehls had to endure the first six weeks, it has flown by for us. We've been blessed by exceptional people who have been completely selfless in helping us get settled.
Easy isn't quite the right word, but so far this journey has gone unbelievably smoothly. We're at a point now where things are starting to slow down. A new structure and routine is taking shape but it isn't what I had imagined.
Some how, regardless of the fact that we could not be further from our comforts and traditional habits, we've found a way to snuggle back into subtle stagnation. We've boxed ourselves into three square blocks of familiarity and a really good hand pulled noodle place. The days seem to float by without ever being filled. It's disappointing. I wonder if I'm overanalyzing or being dramatic. I know deeper down that this is just a phase; that next month, next week, tomorrow will be different. Yet I can't stop thinking about all the things we left behind to basically sit in an apartment and go out twice a day for sustenance.
I miss my friends, the many wonderful people I wish I had taken more time to know and love. I miss our seminary teacher who was beyond incredible. (Hi Brother Tolman, miss you LOTS bud) Our church youth groups and leaders. It's tough not interacting with fellow punk teenagers on a regular basis. I'm afraid of doing the holidays without the rest of our family. Paige and I left behind an incredible viola & violin teacher. I miss my fencing family. Audrey and Paige miss Irish Dance. Reese is missing his Speech and Debate friends and teacher. Mom misses piano for him. The list is long.
The irony is I never would have really understood what I had in Utah if I hadn't left it all behind. And as wonderful as it was, as much as I miss those relationships, places and things, I can't imagine going back. The Utah chapter of my life has been written. It was sometimes hard, sometimes wonderful and occasionally everything seemed perfect. But now it's done. A new chapter has begun. It starts with me mourning the loss of the things we chose to leave behind. And it isn't easy, but it's part of the experience. It has been reiterated time and time again by coincidence and revelation we are supposed to be here in China. We each get to make what we want of it.
This life is a time to grow. It's an opportunity to experience and feel everything this world has to offer. After moving to this new place though I've realized what the world has to offer is much the same wherever you'll go. There's beauty if you look for it. And there's ugly too. Theres loneliness if you allow yourself to be lonely and there's a friendship waiting to blossom in every face that passes by. Anywhere can be a beautiful place if you want it to be.
Wherever you are, in whatever chapter, whatever scene... no matter what you feel right now, it's going to pass. So revel in it. Whether positive or painfully negative allow it to be felt. Someday it will be over. Just like the Utah chapter ended for me. It was hard. It was awesome. I met the most incredible people. Everything about that chapter was for my growth. Everything is for our growth.
Now a new chapter has begun, thanks to the past I am an undeniably different person ready to take on this new place. A new experience. New people to meet. New reasons to cry. New ways to laugh.
More to see. More to feel. More to grow.
Someday this China chapter will be over. I'll grieve its loss. And life will push me forward. To a different place, new people, more connections. More experience, more life. Because that's what this is all about. G r o w t h.
A life of comfort and structure is, well comfortable and stable. But I've always wanted something more than that. I want to live in a way that allows me to feel and accept the bitterness of this existence; while still savoring the beauty. I know now that it doesn't require moving to the other side of the world. It doesn't require going anywhere actually. It's all about embracing everything the present is presenting to you. Breathe it in, smile... or cry. Let time roll by and bring with it the best and worst there is. Sometimes it's bitter. But in the end we'll look back at all these chapters. All the things we were, and places we went, and people we knew, and we'll be able to say, "it was rich."
"I've been searching for years for the ideal place. And I've come to the realization that the only way to find it is to be it." —Alan Watts