When Things Go All WONG...

I've had a rough couple of weeks lately.
I've broken down crying helplessly, hating my surroundings and feeling sorry for myself.
I've wondered what I'm doing here, for it has seemed pointless at times. And too hard. Just too damn hard existing as a foreigner in this country.

In fact for a long while everything has seemed to be a struggle which I couldn't overcome. I didn't see a way out of. I felt sad, depressed, angry, frustrated. I had almost had enough of China.

So what happened? Nothing out of the ordinary, really. When I say out of the ordinary, I mean out of the ordinary compared to my life here in China since December last year. Which is not "ordinary" compared to my life in all the four other Western Countries I've lived previously throughout my life.

I'm a straight shooter. Throughout this blog I've written honestly about my experiences in China and I've never sugarcoated anything nor tried to make it sound glamorous. So some of you will know that though it has been an adventure like no other coming here, full of eccentricities, funny situations, hilarious mishaps and making friends, there has also been the flipside. I've talked a lot about the language barrier. The pollution. The rudeness of Chinese people. Dirt and grime everywhere. And it just so happened to me a few weeks ago that all these things seemed to quantify out of proportion and bury me under them.

Nothing specific happened to start my spiraling to darkness. But one day on my way to catch a taxi to work I surprised myself as I bursted into tears. Knowing that who ever would stop to pick me up, the taxi driver would probably not understand my Chinese when I gave him the address, after which he would try to rip me off by charging me at least double the cost of the fare and I would end up in a fight with him. And I would have to take all this only to be taken to a working environment where I couldn't communicate with anyone and felt utterly isolated. And after that a new challenge, and after that another, and after that...
I thought I would shake it off during the day. But it got worse.

After work I went to the supermarket. I had a customer pestering me, a young woman who insisted on speaking to me in Chinese though I told her on several occasion that I do not understand nor speak Chinese. All I wanted was to buy bananas. And to be left alone after a challenging day. No such luck.
My grocery shopping is always tormented by mostly the supermarket staff who attack me like vultures. I felt like screaming "leave me alone!" as they kept following me and blabbering at me, but I managed to hold myself together. But I almost lost it when one of the staff members popped in front of my face around a corner and took a picture of me with her iPhone. That was the last straw. I rushed out of the store, angry, so angry. It had been too much.

Little things like these happen multiple times every day, just as they always have happened during my life in China, but I was really struggling to accept them this time around.

I don't know if I got sick because of all the anxiety, anger and depressive thoughts, or vice versa, but I started to come down with something suddenly. I felt like I had no energy to face anything outside my comfortable apartment. Everything seemed like a big struggle. Commuting. Communicating. Shopping.

The only people who I could actually talk to, who would understand how I was feeling and what I was going through were my other foreign friends here. I talked to them openly about my feelings, like we always do within the group. They made me feel better, but the effect didn't last long.

And then one day as I was at work I fell into peaces: I started sobbing again helplessly. I was sent home for the rest of the day and I felt relieved. But not better.
And then the next day it happened again. Only this time around it was more like howling instead of crying, with tears pouring down my face. I felt a horrible sadness and anger inside me. My Chinese colleagues were lovely and understanding, as I had told them how I had been feeling. I was consoled and looked after.

This exact same thing happened once more at my work place. My colleagues were starting to get worried and they weren't the only ones: I felt as surprised as I felt miserable. When would I feel better again, I wondered.

I have always been in touch with who I am and what I want in life: I'm one of those people who spend a lot of time working on myself mentally and spiritually, constantly trying to better myself. So I rarely experience feelings that surprise me. But this amount of rage which I was suddenly experiencing was surprising to me. I sat down and pondered whether I could - or should - stay in China until the end of my contract. It was still 5 months away.
Then all of a sudden I found resurrection: my summer holiday is coming up next month and I decided that to save my mental health and to lift my spirits I would simply have to leave China for two weeks. To get away from it all. And as I thought of this a  wave of relief washed over me! That night I radiated of positive energy again and I stayed up late planning my exciting holiday! After that I have felt like my old self again :)

For now I have decided to take it day by day. China is certainly a challenge, but I feel like it has taught me so much. I have appreciation towards life now more than I have ever had before. I have stepped out of my comfort zone. Or it feels like not a step but a plunge into a sea of non-comfort zone.

Throughout this experience in China I've been forced to open my mind, challenge my view of the world and learn how to swim against the current. I still got some kick in me to keep on swimming!

Zàijiàn!

I wish Chinese really was this easy! :)

Oriental Truth: Money Maketh The Man

Six months in China. I'm halfway through my (first) contract here. Honestly, there have been times when I wondered would I even make it this far. A couple of times I have seriously contemplated on packing my bags that very instant and leaving. And it seems like the issues I - and my fellow foreign friends here - have are always the same. The biggest problem is perhaps the language barrier. More Chinese I learn the more I have a sense of belonging here and the less awkward it is to do things independently. But then there are the cultural differences. The fact that in a city of this stature where there are only a handful of foreigners in the midst of 10 million locals, I always stick out.

Chinese people are not like us Westerners in many ways. Chinese people are governed by a super controlling government, but the rest of their life is one big, organised chaos. This can be seen everywhere: the traffic is only one example and though it's a well worn cliche, it is insane because there are no rules - and even if there were no one would respect them. Chinese people have learnt a lesson: if you don't push and shove your way forward in life (or in a queue in a bank/supermarket/anywhere) you won't get anywhere. As I was taught by my parents that it's good manners to patiently wait for your turn and not cut in line, the entire Chinese population has still to discover this rule.
Also the notion of "personal space" is a concept unknown to the Chinese: whereas Westerners show respect towards other people by not shoving others and remaining as distant as possible even in crowded areas, the Chinese are totally oblivious to such unspoken rules. I can't count the times I've been pushed, shoved, someone cutting in front of me, elbowing me without apologizing or breathing in my neck. I'm fairly easygoing but need others to respect my personal space, so you can imagine it's problematic when I am shopping in a supermarket and a salesclerk grabs me to get my attention, or as I'm walking in a busy street downtown and out of nowhere I'm being bombed with cucumber slices by a man selling vegetable slicers; apparently he wanted to demonstrate how lovely and cooling they are... But it's these things that pile up and as they multiply you start to feel desperate(ly angry). Sometimes I wonder if I've forgotten what normal behavior in the West entails. But the truth is I miss being just a face in the crowd: to have some privacy and not being subjected to the gawking, giggling Chinese with their pointing fingers. Which I  also find super rude: but here in China even adults and seniors point their finger at me. Sometimes I get so frustrated I do the same right back at them. It's like the people who take my picture without asking my permission: I have started taking pictures of them, too. Not the most mature thing to do maybe, but I don't know how else to get my point across.

Getting treatment at my local hospital for my old knee injury

"Heat machine" for my knee

Before I came to China I was aware that the culture is very different. I had worked in the hospitality industry around the world and met Chinese travelers so I knew a little of what to expect. I was most interested in the ancient traditions and how they still reflect in the culture today in the lives of the ordinary Chinese. I found out many things about social behavior for instance, or the famous Chinese medicine. I must admit that before arriving to China and even the first couple of months in China I thought the Chinese medicine would be something almost magical and life changing for me. I dreamt of throwing away and completely abandoning Western medicine and finding natural ways to better my health and prolonging my life. Well, that did not quite happen. I have a dodgy knee due to a rock climbing incident a couple years back and it pains be every now and again. I had high hopes that the Chinese doctors would give me some magical, ancient treatment and abrakadabra my knee would be as good as new! Unfortunately the treatment I first received (acupuncture) made my knee almost immobile. I had never felt pain like that and after a few treatment sessions I told the doctor I won't have it again. He suggested another treatment which involved healing herbs and heat therapy. That didn't seem to bother my knee but after so many treatment sessions I still didn't feel much better so I gave up spending my days off at the hospital. I was sorely disappointed. But I still had high hopes about Chinese medicine.
It was probably when my friend, a doctor, suggested I'd take some Chinese medicine to cure my dry cough that was the last drop and my faith in Chinese medicine was destroyed. My cough wasn't bad but she insisted that she'd get me something to help. So she gave me what looked like big, massive seeds and told me to put them into hot water and drink. The seeds (or whatever they were) opened up in the hot water and expanded. A day later, I was violently sick: I had the runs, was seeing stars and felt like vomiting. I had to go to the hospital and stayed in bed for the next three days. My other friends, finding out what I had been taking to my cough, told me that this Chinese medicine is too strong and I shouldn't have tried it. I felt betrayed by Chinese medicine. But I have seen how it really is: Chinese medicine is nothing but old folks tales, wisdom passed through from generation to generation. Sure, it's a natural remedy. But unfortunately there is nothing magical about it. So I keep popping my Western medicine from now on quite happily.

Would you drink this if they said it's good for you?

And when talking of the Chinese culture it's important to remember the most essential value of all: money. That is truly what it all comes down to. People don't marry for love here, they marry for money and security. It might sound cynical, but I think that Chinese people's entire lives revolve around money. They openly admit themselves that money is very important and they can never have enough. They call Western people "very romantic" because we marry for love and passion, hold hands, kiss in public and are affectionate towards are partners. I am fully aware that our culture in the West isn't free of this obsession with money either, but I see it here so highlighted that it's hard to ignore.
During my friend's visit in China my Chinese manager took us to a nearby little town and a temple which was located there. The temple was beautiful and we found there was a very old man who worked there. As my manager translated we asked him some questions. I wanted to know why he was there; I thought to myself that maybe he seeks enlightenment, inner peace or harmony, or maybe he contemplates the meaning of life or simply feels the need to live a simple life to serve his gods. Nope, none of that. He told us he came to work for the temple because his children were adults and instead of living with them, the temple would provide him an income. Another illusion shattered. My face must've shown my disappointment as my manager told me "in China everything is done for money". I nodded my head, she was right.

I came to China intrigued of the ancient culture, the oldest race in the world and their different, peculiar ways. I wanted to get to the bottom of the culture and though I've only been here for six months I think I have done a pretty good job finding out what it is to be Chinese. I know I still have much more to unravel and I look forward to it all. I feel lucky that chance brought me here, right in to the middle of the provincial life and the "real" China: I have had such experiences already that I won't forget throughout the years to come, no matter where I end up.

For now I'll keep on exploring this insane, fascinating chaos called China!

Gambei! ("Bottoms up!")

Beer pong, our foreigner group's favorite past time