One Hundred and One Days

It is today, on my 101st day in China, that I have decided to take a moment to reflect of on my time abroad thus far. What have these days, that have simultaneously flown and crawled by, taught me about China? In the midst of missing home and liking it here, what have I learned about the Chinese people? Certainly the busy times of travel and the quietness of my apartment have bestowed something upon me. If anything, I have learned this:

The Chinese people are indelicate.
They spit on the street.
They push.
They catcall white women like it’s their job.
They eat very loudly.
They stare.
They are incredibly blunt.
They go to the bathroom on the street.
They are loud.
They fight in public a lot.

The Chinese people are quirky.
They wear red stilettos and blue polyester running suits at the same time.
They bring animals of all kinds on the public bus.
They have no personal space and assume I don’t either.
They snack on spicy chicken feet in a bag.
They can’t seem to plan anything.
They pair jogging pants with a suit jacket and call it fashion.
They have a very monotonous diet.
They don’t have the slightest understanding of what Playboy is.
They enjoy a good piece of stinky tofu every now and then.

The Chinese people are friendly.
They will try to move mountains for me.
They try their best to understand my unbelievably broken Chinese.
They are gracious.
They get up to give me a seat on the bus.
They are thoughtful.
They take time to drive me across town even though we just met and can barely communicate.
They are worried about my safety and wellbeing.
They say "hi" when they see me around town.
They are caring.
They try to help me as much as they can.
They are so glad to meet me.

In 101 days I’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of what it means to be Chinese and live in central China. I know China has so much left to teach me and I’m ready to learn. If my time here so far has been any indication, I’m in for another 230 days of pure madness.