Before the Adventure Comes the Unpacking

When I set out traveling I never intended any permanent residencies. 
Then I ended up teaching English in Beijing for 18 months. The expat community is small in a foreign country. Everyone knows someone that knows someone that knows someone.
Everyone you've met in the past days of your travels has most likely played a significant role in where you are today.
Expats are always coming and going. Some are finishing their contracts or obligations, others were just passing through.
The passer throughs are the people you follow on social media sites to watch where they adventure to next. You keep a small acknowledgement of each other's existences for future travel purposes in their home country/state. However, when you befriend a local, you're playing a whole different ball game.
You're submerging yourself in the culture and lifestyle of that local, too. When I adapted to Beijing as my home, I was adapting to my best friend's life. She knew all the places to shop for foreign-sized shoes and clothing. She knows all the best expat bars. She knows the tricks of street vendors. She knew everything I needed to know in order to make Beijing home. 
Now, my two best friends lives 7,370 miles away from me. When you leave your foreign hometown to return to wherever you're from, your life becomes a sequence of photographs, delayed text responses and early morning and late night video calls. 
Your communication becomes catching up weekly and cramming the week's events into one hour or less.
If you don't know me and my lifelong friends I probably sound like a jerk for not acknowledging that they still exist as a major part of my life. They do. And they understand what I'm saying here. They never tell me to stop talking about my friends abroad or tire of listening to my stories. (At least they never say so). You stuck by me when I had no idea who I was, where I was going, what I was doing or what I wanted in life. But so did my friends there and I miss them just like I missed you from the other side.

It's like this...
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at that time and place because you'll never be that way again." --- Azar Nafasi
And that's exactly how I sum up returning. Travelers adapt. It's all they know to do. We keep a part of who we were when we were away, but being that person in another environment isn't always easy or acceptable. 

A year or so ago when I was living my "oh so adventurous life" in China I wrote one of my favorite blogs, "Nobody Hangs Hard Times on the Wall." It's about the obvious-to- me-yet-clearly-ambiguous-to-the-rest-of-the-world life struggles of living abroad. 
Just because I live in a world away from all of your bullshit problems doesn't mean I don't have my own. It's not about who does or doesn't have problems, though; it's about how we view and handle our problems. 
You can follow the link to that old blog if it'll help you better understand the rest of this one, but it isn't necessary. 
After five months of living back in my hometown I've gotten most of my breakdowns and freak outs out of the way. I've cried about missing my friends, students and life back in China. I've freaked out at the grocery store in choosing basic necessities. I've had multiple panic attacks in the driver's and passengers seat of cars. I've been ridiculed for not knowing or using popular social media apps. I've patiently watched and/or listened to people witness my reactions in said situations and wonder wtf was wrong with me. I just hope they one day find the strength to put themselves in an unfamiliar setting where they don't know a damn thing and come out slightly shook up, yet stronger for doing so. 
I'm reading "Looking For Alaska," by John Green and he wrote, "Well, before the adventure comes the unpacking." 
I instantly put the book down to finish this blog. I've been trying to find a way to put into words what I'm experiencing. As it turns out, I haven't had a lot of reverse culture shock but a lot of unpacking to do. 
When I got to China I had to adjust to everything because nothing was the same. I did so as quickly as possible and much faster than I ever anticipated. I learned quickly what I could live without when I couldn't say it in Mandarin or use some funky hand gestures to make my desires understood. Also, I gradually noticed all the past moments I once saw as catastrophic were simple on even the worst day. And I can go into the details of being lost, lonely or a number of other emotions and scenarios in grave detail but it really doesn't make sense until you've experienced it yourself. And I'm not talking about going to Europe for a few weeks or taking a Jamaican cruise on an American cruise line for 10 days. Not to dampen your adventures or anything, but it's not even close to the same. 
So I unpacked everything in China. All the past I'd been finding a way to let go of, but not just that... I unpacked all of my dreams and ambitions. Once the negativity was out of sight I was able to see what I wanted in the years to come. I had it all lined out, too. Then I decided to return to my hometown. And although the decision involved temporary residency in my home town I knew the risk of packing up and coming back because I'd have to risk unpacking all over again.   

And as usual, in five months time, every plan I made has been altered, postponed or tossed out completely. I've finally slowed down and decided to unpack and make home my home again and just roll with the punches ;) Because I've fallen in love with the South and all of it's flaws again. Because I've fallen in love with the hot sun and fresh air that exist even on a rainy day. Because I've found comfort in being near my family. Because I've fallen in love. And I think it's ok to want both worlds sometimes because I think adventures are whatever we make them to be. And because life is the adventure. 

"How high's the water Papa?"

"Five feet high and rising." 

Torrential rain fell in Northwest Louisiana for five consecutive days. For two days it was non-stop and the others it came and went. 

As a result numerous people have suffered tremendous losses. If you're a resident of the area, you or someone you know has been effected by this week's weather disaster. Schools were closed and roads flooded out. People attempted to salvage their belongings using jon boats and helping hands when possible. However, many are now seeking shelter in hotels or with family and friends. Their homes are destroyed, whether there's a foot of standing water or their roofs are submerged, the damage is done. 

I'm known for making the best of any situation I'm presented with. I exude happiness sometimes. Even now, in a house nearly encased by Caddo Lake, I'm remaining optimistic. 

Yesterday morning my dad called for my brother and I to come help him take stuff out of the sheds because the water from the lake had risen to them. On a normal day, our house sits 80-100 yards from the lake. I think, "wow that's pretty high." Even with the heavy rains in May the shoreline was never more than 20 yards up I'd guess. 

When we pull down the driveway I realize my dad meant, "The rain has risen to three and a half feet of standing water in the shed." 

We wade through the freezing lake water and start filling ice chests with tools, carrying extension cords and weedeaters above our heads to 'shore.' 

The water is to my waist. I'm 5'9''. 

I'm secretly scared shitless a water moccasin is gonna come swimming past me at any moment and I jump every time something brushes my leg in the dirty water I'm encompassed by. However, I said to dad, "this is funny." He responds with the obvious, "no, it's not." And I hit him with, "dad we're waste deep in water in our shed. This will definitely be funny once the lake resides and we've put all this shit back." 

After we clear what we can, we then need to remove the John Deere lawnmower from the shed and make it the 20 yards to 'shore.' So let me tell y'all, not only does nothing run like a Deere, but nothing floats like those puppies, either. I'm kidding that mower was heavy as hell, but we made it, and we were proactive cause had we waited it would've ruined... The water rose another foot and a half over night. 

We were lucky. The lake is supposed to crest at midnight tonight and shouldn't rise further. So although Caddo Lake is directly off the back porch steps currently, it is not in our home. No ruined floors, walls, etc. Exactly a half mile down the road is an evacuated street with homes submerged in water. And all throughout the region are more. 

Here's my deal. It's a headache, stressful and heartbreaking no doubt. But, at the end of the day, it's stuff. However valuable or precious it may be to you, it's replaceable in some form. I don't know the statistics, but as far as lives go, it seems few were lost. 

Secondly, it sounds crazy but I love when natural disasters happen because for a few hours, days or weeks, the people affected by it become aware, attentive and altruistic. Not to say some people aren't always, but you know where I'm coming from. 

Our neighbor, Mr. Dennis, is lacking exactly five inches of water before his home is flooded and he spent the day sawing and hauling limbs with us off a power line that'd fallen on another neighbor's  power line. 

So if you lose everything in a situation like this week's disaster, always remember there truly is a worse possible scenario. So pray, send good vibes, hope, wish or whatever it is you do for the residents of Louisiana because although the rain has calmed, the storm may only be beginning. 

Left: March 12 @ 1p.m.
Right: March 13 @ 3p.m.

"What's Next?"

I had a plan for my life once. Most 20-somethings do. Maybe your plan is in a constant state of alteration. Or possibly you gave up on plans completely. I like to pretend I still plan out my life and think it all through. Although at this stage of the game I'm content with saying, "that's a load of shit." 
I've become incredibly spontaneous, inconsistent and maybe even a bit flaky when it comes to the future of my life and surprisingly I'm ok with this.

As a travelled person, at least in the eyes of the people from my hometown, on top of being a 25-year old college grad with no insurance or career this is the most despised question heard almost weekly: "What's next?" 
What I say is some line about working and saving until my next runaway moment. Which, to be fair, is about 85% accurate. However, what I want to say is, "I don't have a clue because my suitcase is still fully packed, just strewn across the spare room of my parent's home." 

I speculate there are roughly three types of people who ask this question.
The first is your family and friends who are genuinely interested about your game plan, when you're leaving again or when you'll need to borrow a couple hundred bucks or something. 
The second would be the people who don't really know you but stalk you out on social media and kind of dabble in keeping up with your personal life through photos and other posts.
Third would the people asking to ensure they're not the only person who doesn't have their shit together. (You're my favorites.) 

Here's where I'm at currently: I just moved back into the country and never remember how important IDs are. I moved into the spare room of my brother and his girlfriend's place. I drive my mom's car. I'm waiting tables and other odd jobs so I don't drown in debt. 

What am I doing next?
I don't have a fucking clue! 

When I decided to leave China early I convinced myself I had to have some elaborate plan so I could tell people something other than, "I was homesick."

But why? It's my life...

I read an article on ThoughtCatalog.com about a month before I left China. The author was talking about what it's like to hang up your backpack and passport and stay in one spot. (Read it here). I enjoyed the read, but I never thought it'd pertain to me... until now.

The rain pelts the tin roof for the twentieth consecutive hour. A sound I've missed for far too long. A sound few people appreciate in this world anymore. 
I'm a firm believer in "the little things in life." Joy can come from the smallest word, moment or feeling. 

Here is a short, quick list of the little things I missed while living in  China. 
1. Rain on a tin roof (obviously).
2. The smell of fresh cut grass.
3. The dingy feel of my dog's fur after he's dried from a dip in the lake or pond.
4. My dad's scent when he comes home from a day of work.
5. Driving on back roads past pastures and fields.
6. Coffee at Granny's. 
7. Southern Maid Donuts (yes, it's that special). 


These are all the things that have never changed and been a constant favorite in my 'adult' life, even if they are a bit strange in your mind. Things that are at the top of my "I can't wait" list whenever I'm returning home from a journey. And some of these little things won't last forever which is why I am where I am with this blog. 

I was accepted into Webster University for my master's, but maybe I don't want to take out the double-digit thousands of dollars it would take to complete said degree yet. Also, I'm happy being home and getting my boots dirty for awhile.
I've already postponed grad school a semester. And my life in China seems like another lifetime ago. I communicate with my close friends regularly but it's almost surreal. It doesn't seem like it's been three months, but two years. I keep waiting to board my return flight, yet I don't want to. That probably seems confusing unless you've been there I suppose.


I traveled to figure it out. Find myself. Soul search. Eat, pray love and all that jazz. Although I'm not 100% there, I reached the most important peak I needed to reach: confidence.  

I thought moving to another continent on my own and surviving 18 months was the hardest thing I'd ever endure. I'm now realizing the hardest part is right now and finding the strength to remain in the place I was originally running from and being content with that decision. The true challenge is returning, starting from scratch and having the strength to stay. 
As a runner leaving comes easy. Money or not you leap. People think you're brave, in reality you're probably frightened or maybe just a bit stupid. I believe I'm a mix of both. 

When you ask a 20-something, or even 30-something-year-old human what they're doing with their life, what their dreams are or what their goal for the year is you're just making them feel like a waste. More importantly, you're forcing them to grow up. Everyone matures and develops in the world at different paces. Some people hit the ground runnin' at 19. Others make it around 50 or so. 

No way in hell I'm done traveling. But I am done living abroad or living more than a few hundred miles from my family. I have a whole lot more on my bucket list, but not all of those things are overseas or require a plane ticket to reach. Right now I'm happy. I'm home and I'm not trying to run away anymore so I'm making the best of what I've got. So, give us a break. People worry about what they're doing with their lives because we ask them so much. I'm just waiting it out until something strikes my fancy. That's what's next if I'm being 100% honest with you. :) 

To my boyfriend about why I kept things from my ex

A few weeks ago my boyfriend was over. On the bed rests a teddy bear. At first he laughed, then commented that I even have a bear at 25 years old. I further explained an ex had given it to me.
"Babe, when your new boyfriend comes over you should hide your old boyfriend's teddy bear," he said.
I used to. I used to throw it under the bed or in a closet even if it was just a friend coming over. The days of shamefully hiding the teddy bear seems like ages ago now, though. 
This is my logic and call me crazy, but I've lugged this damn teddy bear around the globe for three years so I'm not just going to chunk him to the curb now. 
Two years ago I set out soul searching, if you will. Originally I lugged the bear along because I was still in love with the ex who'd given it to me. However, by the end of my two-year sabbatical from my hometown, the teddy bear had become something of a pet.  Also, what the hell do you do with an old stuffed bear? I considered chunking it in the nearest donation bin 100 times but I just couldn't do it. And here's why...
I want to remember who I was when I was positive and a good girlfriend that deserved to be given a silly teddy bear in my past relationship because I want those characteristics to carry over into my future relationship. At the same time I want to remember the negative aspects and lessons learned from my past relationship. Of all things in my past, that damn teddy bear reminds me of who I want to be and who I never want to be again. But mostly, it clarifies the kind of guy I want in my life and the kind I don't want in my life. The bear is simply a symbol of all I've left behind, overcome, bared, lost and gained. 

It's impossible to be angry at a stuffed bear regardless who gave it to you and who it reminds you of. It's impossible to hate a necklace, despite the fact you've ripped it off and replaced the chain at least a dozen times. If I continue having Taylor Swift bonfires with all the things I ever received from an ex I'm just exerting anger and negativity.
One of my favorite quotes of all time is from "Pretty in Pink," when Molly Ringwald's character Andie says she's going to that dance anyway because "I just wanna let them know they didn't break me."
I've always believed in that. I want to be stronger from my pain, heartbreak and all that other emotional bullshit. So, if I can't look at a $20 teddy bear and smile at how I've grown then I don't deserve to be happy.
This brief letter isn't just for my boyfriend but for me, other new boyfriends of the world and other girls with trinkets from their past. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you can't. I don't know but it's at least one semi decent logic to put behind hanging onto "ex things."

An Unusual Craving for Cigarettes

Family photos fill the guest room. My clothes fill the closet. My parents are watching TV in the den. And me... I'm homesick as hell.
I miss my routine.
I miss my students.
I miss the ridiculously over-crowded subway.
I miss walking everywhere.
I miss my tiny apartment room with the window that looked out into nothing but smog most days.
I miss the sweet ayi from the vegetable market.
I miss the lady from the French store who always laughed at me when I used my Chinese poorly.
I miss my friends like a son of a bitch.
I miss not understanding the surrounding chatter around me. 
I'm surrounding myself in cigarette smoke-filled atmospheres because I guess the clean air is just too much to appreciate in America. 
It's been one month since I left Beijing and it seems like five.
I rapidly found a few jobs to make ends meet. I've applied and been accepted into grad school. I've seen every friend and family member I missed while away. This is the time where I'd normally be heading elsewhere. Not this time, though. I'm here for eight months working, living and waiting. 
The culture shock hasn't been too bad after the first visit to the grocery store and my first time pumping gas (Yes, I know there are instructions). It's all becoming routine again. I also haven't nailed down the whole "culture shock" thing yet. I have two feelings toward it. Sometimes the feeling is just a snap back to reality and my location. A sense of, "whoa. wait. what. how."
For example, I was stopped at a flashing red light the other day when my friend said, "you know it's not a red light and you can go if it's clear." Luckily she was with me cause I would've sat there 10 more minutes waiting on the light to turn green. Also, I was stopped by a train last week. I imagined everyone was annoyed it interfered with their scheduling, but me, I was just counting the carts remembering I was back home. 
The second feeling I have in "culture shock" moments is feeling like a moron. Here's why. 
When in China, I met an ABC (American born Chinese) from Texas. She said, "because I'm Chinese the locals talk to me and expect me to understand them so when I don't they just think I'm stupid." Her parents are from China and immigrated before her birth, but for whatever reason never taught her Mandarin so she's 20-something learning for the first time. Anyway, I feel like her sometimes when I have moments.  
People think I'm deaf and stupid at least once a day. No, I heard you I'm just registering what the hell you're talking about. You talk funny and use a lot of slang that simply doesn't register with me. Which is ironic because when I first arrived in China my peers and students always told me I spoke too quickly and that I used too much slang they didn't understand. I now realize a lot of new phrases can be born in a short 18 months. Especially in Louisiana.
However, as often as I've felt like a moron, I've been really fortunate to fall into a great crew of new friends and acquaintances who make dealing with my awkward/weird moments easier. And my old pals just laugh and say, "Sorry, she's been gone a long time," or "she's not from here." :) 
Along with that I'd like to give a special thanks to everyone who has let me sleep on their couch, bum a ride, catch a shower, borrow a pair of socks, et cetera over the last month. You are all true gems! :)
The next time someone asks me to describe myself in three words I'll say, "adaptive as fuck." Throughout the last two years, living in cities with public transportation and no car, you learn quickly to always have the necessities with you at all times. This means you probably have multiples of everything. One remains in the backpack and/or purse and the other stays at home. You always need deodorant, perfume, contact solution/case, toothbrush, mascara, bobby pins, lotion, phone charger in your purse/backpack. As a 20-something year old woman it's okay to crash on couches and at friends at random, but it's not okay to do so without proper hygiene. Come on now... :) 
I've never been uncomfortable in my boots. I've also never been asked where I'm from so many times in my hometown because I've "lost my accent" a bit. I've always enjoyed the backroads with the windows rolled down and music blasting. I've always known my place. Nowadays, I find I'm unable to deter my conversation from China. Most people want to know things about my life in China, but they ask about the food, life in a Communist country, the bathroom situation and other things that had just become daily life to me. Whereas I want to tell stupid stories about drunk nights with my friends, something from a holiday or a story about one of my students. I'm keeping up well enough I've been told and at the end of the day I'm really not a foreigner anymore. I'm home. I've just returned with a different mindset.
There are many things I used to love that serve little interest to me now. Things said I mildly comprehend cause I've been gone so long. Stories my friends reminisce on that I wasn't a part of in the last two years. Stories that were once funny that no longer even register in my memory. The conclusion I've gathered is I'm juggling two lives with two separate pasts but the same present. Balancing the desires of both can be overwhelming from time-to-time but that's life, eh? At the end of the day, it's all about growing up. And that shit sucks. You want mom and dad's house to always be your only home, but eventually it can't be. You want them to call and check on you when the weather's bad or a few days of silence have gone by, even though you say you don't. You want to always live with dad cause he keeps a stash of junk food only he and you know about. You want to forever be little although you haven't been in at least a decade because just as the world around us grows, so do you. Especially when it seems the world grows more quickly than we'd like. 
Adjusting has been easy for two reasons: detachment of material things and attachment to souls. 
I've learned to live with very little material possessions, including clothing. I can make 10 outfits from three articles of clothing. I've learned what is essential, what isn't and how to dress for any situation that may occur. What you truly need when traveling, whether it's the mountains or a beach resort. This doesn't mean I don't go into a store and want to buy everything I see. Any object I brought back from China with me was a gift from a friend or student. Everything else without sentimental value was left. If it doesn't fit in the suitcase it doesn't come. 
What I haven't learned to detach from is the people I meet along the way. Because I'm coming and going so often, I leech onto people. Not because I'm without friends or unable to be alone, but because I have this annoying characteristic of getting along with just about anyone. I'm fascinated with humans and their stories. So if I only have a month in a location I have to get all I can get of you. Plus, I always meet the good people in life and I want to hang onto them as long as possible. 
So, all of that being said. Overall I'm doing well. I'll always have multiple apps for communicating throughout the world on my phone. I'll have people to talk to whether it's 2:00 a.m. or 2:00 p.m. Initially I thought I was settling when I chose St. Louis over The Netherlands for grad school, however, I am 100% satisfied with my decision to remain in the States for grad school. Although I love traveling the world, seeing incredible things, meeting fascinating people, learning bits and pieces of languages, love the effect it has on my writing, the openness it gives my mind and the peace it brings to my soul, it's time to inspire closer to home. You know, that buying a sofa and working toward a career thing, yet still trying to 'make a difference in the world.'
My fellow southern friends abroad said once people leave the South they don't return. I know why and it is hard as hell, but my skin is thick enough. The fact that I come from an area where people are so comfortable making stereotypical Asian jokes to my face knowing I just spent the past 18 months there and not even considering I'm offended as hell proves that I will get my master's and I'll bring it right back home where it's needed. So I'm moving forward and throwing out the desire for things that remind me of home in Beijing. I made the decision to leave there, and although it's difficult and they'l be many more future moments of heartache it was the right decision. No more submerging myself in stale cigarette stench. 

                       

China Daily: A photoblog

Since I came back from China three weeks ago I'm asked pretty much the same questions about my time in China so here is essentially a walk through of a weekend stroll for me. Two days before leaving I had the epiphany to do a photoblog of the random things I found most fascinating or puzzling in the beginning to share with y'all. For y'all it's a picture to associate with a story or object. However, for me it's all the things I'll miss that constantly reminded me where I was, yet became less "odd" every time I saw it. Maybe some visuals of something other than me and the kiddos or me traveling can give you insight on the day-to-day life I had. At least you can see what I saw. Enjoy! 

1. The fruit and vegetable markets on every corner.

2. Random signs like this :) 

3. My favorite noodle place. 

4. Ridiculously crowded streets. As Chinese say: "Ren shan. Ren hai. (People mountain. People sea.)"

5. Chaun'er AKA, meat on a stick :) 

6. Paifangs (These really pretty archways)

 

7. Random sightings like this guy

8. Peddlers

9. The constant gamble of crossing the street.

10. The lions at every entrance, street corner and so forth guarding the entire city 

11. Ordering food by pointing at photos on the wall

12. The red lanterns everywhere. 

13. Seriously everywhere!

14. Tiny delivery vehicles 

15. Tiny forms of transportation: Tuk tuks, rickshaws, whatever you call them.

16. Meat hanging outside markets.

16. Traffic jams...

                                                    

17.  Old dudes chillin'...

18. My running path 

19. View of the traffic

20. Kindness of strangers

21. Convenience of food carts

22. Orange suits keepin' the city clean

23. Dudes takin' naps at random

24. Sometimes in the subway to avoid the heat

25. Like seriously, I love these guys. 

Again I say thanks to everyone who followed my 18-month journey throughout China and kept track, boosted my confidence and encouraged my ambitions! I'll always miss China, but it wasn't meant to be forever. Here's to the next adventure :)