I think I actually like jet lag. Coming back from China is the only time I ever get up early willingly, and it’s also the only time that’s acceptable to feel as tired as I always feel. Four hour nap in the late afternoon? It’s just jet lag. Incapable of staying awake during a 15-minute car ride? She just got back from a year in China, what do you expect? Sleeping for 14 hours when a pre-dinner nap went too long? Well, it’s noon where she was before!
(Never mind that I regularly do these things – or at least would love to do them – when I have no such valid excuse.)
Since I’m already just this side of narcoleptic, it’s a little hard to tell when I’m over jet lag. Kind of like how it’s hard to tell if I’m drunk or not; I have no sense of direction anyway and can’t ever walk straight, so don’t jump to any conclusions.
After the insane heat of my last month in Xiamen, I couldn’t wait to get home to Minnesota on the 45th parallel. But when you study abroad you hear a lot about reverse culture shock, when you realize everything you’ve been missing about home maybe isn’t quite as amazing as you remembered it being. So while I sweated through multiple changes of clothes each day and spent all available moments on the beach in the sun (because it was just as hot anywhere else and at least there it was acceptable to sweat gallons), I wondered to myself if I was seeing Minnesota through rose-colored glasses.
But no, it’s all true. Minnesota summers are just as gorgeous as I remember. I heard some people talking about heat but they were obviously completely crazy. It was a week before I used the AC in the car, and I told my mom the first day I broke a sweat – a good 10 days after my return.
It wasn’t until I got back to Minnesota that I realized just how hot Xiamen was. The temperatures were in Celsius; while I developed a good feel for that scale I could only compare those temperatures to other temperatures in Celsius. Also, I never once heard mention of a heat index, which must be either a Fahrenheit thing or an American thing. Looking back now, the heat index on my last day in Xiamen was 124F; the first day of that weekend we lost power was 138F. The two hottest days of my two weeks in Minnesota were barely even 120.
So when people complain about the heat, I just say that it’s nothing “compared to China”. This is actually relevant to many topics. Weather, prices, population, distance, convenience, courtesy – everything looks a little bit different when China is added to the perspective. It’s all relative.
I can’t help but compare. I expected the price comparison to be especially hard to take but actually overprepared for culture shock in some ways. I was terrified to come home and have to spend American dollars, but it’s not so bad. I’ve gotten some decent meals for less than $10, even $5, and the movie theater near my house has $5 movies except on weekends. That’s what I was paying in China, with the 50% student discount!!
My haircut was a total rip-off, though (especially when I realized later that, with hair this long, I could easily cut it myself), and taxes and tips suck. After a long year of dividing by 7 (which I am really awesome at!), calculating 15% shouldn’t be so ridiculously hard. But it is.
Two things have really surprised me about America: how little Chinese there is, and how much. First of all, no one knows any Chinese. Every American has 30 Spanish words or phrases, 20 French, and a few German (gesundheit, danke shoen, blitzkreig, etc.). We even know some Japanese – domo arigato [Mr. Roboto], konichiwa, and sayonara. But Chinese? Before my first trip I didn’t know how to say ‘hello’ in Chinese, and most people I ask back home can’t either.
It’s kind of cool. I can say whatever I want and no one has a clue what I’m saying. There are no congnates to give me away, and even the tone of voice that could give me away in other languages is disguised by the choppiness of Chinese tonality. I can also write anything in a code impenetrable to the vast majority of the American population.
(Another advantage: When my parents try to use my computer, I end up hearing them call from the other room: “How do you get rid of the Chinese?!?!”)
It would be better, though, if everyone would just learn my top 3 phrases or something. 麻烦, 走吧, and 怎么办 should be as commonplace as hola and gracias. It would make my life so much easier. Come on, Americans, get with it!
But I also said that I was surprised at how much Chinese there is in America. Characters EVERYWHERE! On signs of Chinese restaurants, on all sorts of art, on everybody and their brother’s tatoos. Pretty funny considering how few people can read them at all.
I’m still realizing how different this year is going to be. I became used to my life in Xiamen over the last 11 months to the point that that became my ‘normal’. It’s been 16 months since I took a class that wasn’t about Chinese and 11 months since I took a class that wasn’t taught in Chinese. Thing’s gonna be a little different this year, I think.
My Onion horoscope this week was:
Your belief that all life’s problems can be solved with a heart-to-heart talk and a good night’s sleep will be severely tested this week when you’re introduced to mathematics.
Sad day, considering a large part of my life as an American college student is mathematics. Specifically, MATH 4503 Intro to Numerical Methods.
I mean, I know I’m headed back to TU, back to ME and all, but I can tell I’m still thinking in China mode. I had to buy a new computer (because my LCD backlight died and our open-heart surgery proved less than successful), and just like the army always fighting the last war, I found myself buying a computer for last year. I pictured myself watching whole seasons of DVDs on that screen (when I have a huge TV in my living room), obsessed over having USB ports with the ability to sleep-and-charge (although I’ll have outlets and power strips galore in my bedroom), and worried about portability (even though I’ll be treating it as a desktop just like I did the year before I left).
In the end, I bought a computer. It has a sleep-and-charge port but is just as ludicrously large as the brick I hauled all across China. My laptops have an average lifespan of 2 years, though, and who really knows what the second year of this one will bring?
A friend called me a few days after I got home. Stephen managed to get a hold of me on the day I left for China and also ended up being the first one to call me upon my return. It was great to hear from him, although the familiarity of his voice reminded me instantly of my last year at TU and how, without him, it won’t be the same. After we chatted and caught up, he asked me what was different about home. I searched for something deep to say but came up with nothing. You know, being gone from Minnesota for a year really isn’t weird at all. When I’m at school in Tulsa I only make it home for a few weeks around Christmas between summers, so this year wasn’t all that different. My parents even came to see me around the time I would have seen them normally, so I just missed out on seeing the town and the few friends left up there. Coming back to my parents’ house after a year away felt just like that – like another year away. Not that long, nothing special, just another year away.
But TU? Being gone one year from a place where the average turnover is four? That will be different. As I said, it’s all relative.
Like sleep and my Anki reviews, reading the news got put on the back burner in both the pre-departure rush and the post-arrival chaos. I finally got around to my Google Reader starred list after a week at home. Lots of random articles and a whole series of them about the oil spill. As far as I was concerned, oil was gushing til the end of the month (although it was actually capped on July 15th).
I wonder if I’ll stop being out of touch now that I’m back in the States?