During my first journey to China, I remember asking our expat hosts what the hardest thing about living overseas was to them. In my naivety, I expected an answer involving certain foods or household products. Instead, the answer was: the lack of understanding. Mentally prepared to laugh about missing good spaghetti sauce, I was not ready for something so intangible. So deep. Something I could not fully grasp.
"No one will ever truly understand what it is like to be here, no matter how many stories you tell or how many pictures you show," was the further explanation.
In the years to follow, whether stateside or jaunting abroad, that sentiment would appear every so often within conversations. As a result, I always took note and found myself asking deeper, more probing questions about a person's story.
Now to be the one living as an expat - loving it and thriving - I can honestly say, in agreement, the hardest thing of living overseas is: No one understands.
I remember the first journey stateside - so excited to share what we had seen and done in our adopted motherland and the handful of countries we had traversed - to be met with statements like, "Can you sum China up in about two minutes," or "Is it good or bad?" or "There really is no need to talk about China so much," and (even a few), "I don't really care hearing about it."
It was in those moments, I understood. The voice of my expat hosts from so many years ago sprung to my mind and I realized that the path of an expat can be a very lonely path.
This is not cause for bitterness nor an instigation for malice, just a lesson learned in an expat journey (along with the lessons of quick friendships, food swapping, and saying farewell often.) Obviously, we have many who continue to be our closest confidantes and will listen to our ramblings and struggles in this wild world. For them, we are beyond grateful. Nonetheless, even they do not truly
know our life. They have not walked our campus or jostled their way through our market.
Because of this life lesson, Zach and I have made a point to use our holidays to go see people (within budget) and our home will always be open to travelers. We have done well to connect with friends across the globe from Melbourne, Australia to Amman, Jordan. We love those moments because we can walk alongside them for a short time and understand their context. We meet kids. We laugh about cultural mistakes. We eat the best falafal around town. We are able to understand.
Though we do not wallow in the loneliness, it would be neglectful to say that it does not pop up in moments. It is the moments we wish could share with others: I want Melissa to lay beside me on a beach in Thailand. I want my mom and dad to sit in my kitchen, chatting, while I make cinnamon rolls. Carol really needs to see the bajillion of looms on this side of the globe. It is not uncommon for either Zach or I to say, "Oh, if so-and-so came to visit, we could take them to do this or see that." Of course, we dream and wonder what life would be for such moments - and we have had a couple. By some bizarre yet wonderful stroke of something, we have become the
walkabout destination for graduating seniors. Some of our greatest
Chinese memories to date include having Kiki and Josiah with us - Kiki
sleeping through everything and a typhoon to Josiah eating a $10 - 250
gram block of cheese in one sitting.
During this spring semester, we got to add another story - the Tos came to China.
The scheming began last summer with our beloved friend, Trong. As a fellow long distance traveler, he understands the value of experiences, so he wanted to help show Kaden and Addysen a part of the world. The scheming became plotting which turned into planning. Thus, on an evening at the end of March, Zach and I stood in the Hong Kong airport arrivals to welcome the Tos to our part of the world.
In the weeks leading up to their arrival, Zach and I had a lot of discussions - What would jet lag be for them? What were the best restaurants to show the variety of grub around here? How would our students handle 'actual' Americans? What would be the best sleeping arrangement in our hutong? How can we best prepare them for the journey? How many mangoes did I need to have in the hutong with so many mango lovers? We even did a series of short videos for them to teach skills from packing a carry on bag to how to use a squatty potty.
Within their first twenty four hours, they experienced very cold showers (thanks to the hot water heater going kaput in our HK guesthouse), experienced three modes of transportation (double decker bus, ferry, car), joined our afternoon class, and ate Lanzhou noodles. Addysen ate a slew of wontons, then nearly dunked her face into the soup as she zonked.
The days to follow were filled to capacity.
Zach and Kaden had the opportunity to play football together - a dream come true for Zach and a chance for Kaden to experience humidity. Kaden's performance on the football pitch was a conversation for weeks after their departure.
While the boys played football, the girls went on photography adventures around campus.
They joined some of our classes where our students either embraced the chance to speak with real Americans or completely froze and forgot all English ability.
If they did not go to class, they were the magical cleaning force in our hutong. Addysen told me how much she loved our hanging rods on the front balcony.
We explored the streets around our town, a time for Addysen to begin her quest to photograph every visible animal.
There were no less than 53 pictures of random street animals on my camera - enough that I considered drafting a wildlife of Zhongshan picture book.
We took an afternoon trip to visit our local soy sauce factory.
We celebrated birthdays.
We ate a lot, especially fruit and fruity dishes.
The grand finale was a day spent enjoying the delights of Hong Kong Disneyland.
Though we did have a bonus day to stroll a market, eat dim sum, and stroll a very windy waterfront to pay homage to Bruce Lee's statue.
It was a whirlwind of a trip; we packed so much in so little time. Though we knew the time between seeing each other again was short, tears still flowed in the departures hall of the Hong Kong airport. We said farewell with an abundance of gratitude. The kids got their first glimpse into a bigger world, and our beloved Tos gained a deeper understanding of our life on this side of the globe.
The Rest of the Story:
It took me months to draft this post. It was so much - so much story, so much emotion. Each time I would start to write, I would start crying or get sucked into looking at the pictures. When I thought I could emotionally attempt to complete it, the internet went kaput and spring semester life swept us quickly into the summer, which meant a reunion with this clan. During our weeks stateside, I was vividly reminded of how wonderful this week had been for all of us. The pictures hanging in Addysen's room. Kaden asking questions about a place or person. When telling a story, Joel or Lisa would comment, "Is that where...." Even the reminiscing of things we did or ate with other friends around was so fun. It was these shared moments from a place far away that made the trip even more endearing.
Zach and I hoped that even though it was short, the trip would spark a desire to better understand the bigger world and the stories it holds for Kaden and Addysen. I felt there may have been some success when during a conversation with Kaden, he responded with, "Ah, that is soooo American."
I smiled.
Yes, kid, the world is big and there is much to see and learn.
