Just something I wrote for a local Chinese newspaper.
我对中国的印象
Ever since I was a small child, I was fascinated with everything Chinese: the food, the language, and the culture, so when the opportunity to live in China for nine months of high school came knocking on my door, how could I refuse? I packed up my bags, said good-bye to my friends and family, and set off to see another part of the world.
When I first arrived in China, I had no idea what I was getting myself into living with a Chinese family. I had to remember to take off my shoes at the door, how to use a Chinese washing machine, and how to make dumplings, among many other things. I also experienced the stranger, to me at least, sides of Chinese culture. My host mom insisted that I drink hot water because cold water would make me sick. At first, I resisted and snuck water bottles into the apartment, but by the end of the winter, I was drinking hot water from a glass jar along side my host family. Perhaps not the most glamorous aspects of Chinese culture, but definitely the most rewarding. I truly learned how Chinese people live their day-to-day life, not just how they celebrate holidays, although I learned that too.
At first, I was not familiar with even the basics of Chinese culture, in particular in regard to guests. I quickly discovered that in China, it is considered absolutely unacceptable for a guest (in particular) to leave the table unless doubled over in agony from eating too much food. Despite being an active part of my host family-- I lived with them, ate with them, argued with them about the day’s news, and asked them for help with my Chinese homework-- I was still treated like a guest when food involved. If my host mom thought I looked the least bit hungry, she came knocking on my door with yogurt or fruit in her hands, telling me dinner would be ready in a few minutes. During dinner, she would always encourage me to eat more until I could not possibly put another dumpling in my mouth. And then the Chinese New Year arrived. To this day, I do not know how I consumed so many dumplings, although the fact that my host mom made the best dumplings may have helped. As the year progressed, I learned new ways to politely decline more food, but my host mom was always one step ahead of me. This unspoken game between us ultimately led to my defeat, also known as consumption of way too much food.
Despite still being a guest at the dinner table, in all other respects, my Chinese family treated me like a daughter. They made sure I was home for curfew, helped me with difficult Chinese homework, and made sure they knew where I was all the time. When 猪流感 (swine flu) showed signs of emerging in China, my host family acted quickly. One night after dinner, my host mom sat me down with a map of Beijing and pointed out all the areas I was no longer allowed to go, in particular areas where potentially infected foreigners gathered in large numbers. In addition to curtailing where I was allowed to go, the night before I was to return to American, my host mom asked me to consider staying in China so I would not return home, catch the swine flu and die. I know that she was acting out of love and concern for my well being, but I had to ignore her advice and return home before my American mom flew over and escorted me home herself.
I came away from this experience having learned how to live in a new culture. The most important lesson for me was learning how to just go with the flow until I learned how I was supposed to act, for example to eat until I could not put another dumpling in my mouth or to avoid certain parts of Beijing in fear of the swine flu. In this situation, it was expected I would keep eating until I was full or there was no food left. By the end of the year, I can say that I, as well as my stomach, developed a very intense appreciation for the very different Chinese culture.
