Month 2

Well, today marks my second month-iversary with China. At times I totally think we're going to break up, but then something happens that makes me fall in love with stupid China all over again. I lived in Vienna for half a year, and it's a little disheartening to think of how far along I was after 2 months there compared to here. While it feels like it's been so long since I left home, everything here is still very foreign to me.
I'm pretty used to being stared at constantly. I asked a Chinese person why everyone stares, and she seemed kind of surprised that I would ask such a question. Because you look so different! I know I look "so different," but where I come from, if I had 3 heads, people would probably look away, not stare. Sometimes it's funny. I've had a few Chinese people ask to take pictures with me, and my favorite was when I had to get passport photos for my new visa. The young woman at the fuji store sat me down and very delicately, as if afraid she would break them, tried to smooth down the fly-aways on top of my head. After she took a few frames, she pointed at the camera and then pointed at herself. "Ok..." I said, a bit confused. She jumped up and down, ran up to my side, and took our picture before I even knew what was happening. Afterwards she spent about 10 minutes touching up my photo so it would be PERFECT for my visa.
It's also really cute when little kids stare, mouths wide open. Sometimes they whisper "Weiguoren" (foreigner) in amazement and point me out to their playmate, sometimes they just freeze. I had a little girl follow me around the grocery store one evening. "Hello!" she yelled. I smiled and said, "Hi! How are you?" She giggled and ran away before returning for an encore performance. "Hello!" "Hello, what is your name?" Giggle, run, repeat for about 20 minutes. That stuff, I certainly don't mind.
Other times I really wish I could blend in, and the grocery store is the worst. First they glance at me, and then they look at my cart. Nearly EVERY SINGLE PERSON stares at my cart the entire time I am walking past them. When I stand in front of a shelf, deciding on which mystery food to purchase, eventually 1-4 people will gather around me, staring at the same shelf, waiting to see which food foreign people like. After I've made my choice, most of the audience usually picks up the same thing, either to read the label or absentmindedly throw it into their cart. I thought maybe I was just being self-centered-- it's a crowded place and all. So I conducted a little experiment, and I'm petty sure I'm not imagining it. Whyyyy? This does not make me feel welcome!
Also, I hate how dirty everything is, and I haaaaaate the bathrooms. I hate that I can't drink the water, and I hate that the cars honk non-stop, and I hate that the food they sell on the street looks delicious but I'm afraid to eat it because I don't want to be one of the people I've seen puking on the sidewalk after they've eaten something bad (oh yeah, I hate that too). And I hate the bad air.
But I don't hate everything.
The heels I trip around China in needed some serious help, so I took them to the shoe repair place/bike repair place/guy that sits on the sidewalk half a block off campus. I told him what was wrong, and he told me to have a seat in one of his folding chairs as he got to work. 10 minutes and 5RMB later, I walked away with an extra bounce in my step: my shoes were good as new, and I had successfully explained what I needed and gotten what I wanted, all by myself. The experience reminded me of getting my shoes fixed at home, where my shoe guy is Korean, and the language barrier has always limited our conversation. Once I took in a pair of NOT cheap boots to be repaired after a slight tumble caused both heels to break off (a feat that to this day amazes me). I dumped 2 shoes and 2 heels onto his counter. He looked up at me. "This very bad," he said. I sighed in agreement.
I noticed a few weeks ago that the repairman's "assistant," who I'm guessing is his son, has downs syndrome. I was happy to see him, as he's the first person with a visible disability I've come across in China, and I'd begun to think anyone who wasn't "perfect" was sent away somewhere. My first instinct is to feel sorry for this coupling, a young man with downs and a one-legged older man sitting on the street corner, but now, honestly, I'm a bit embarrassed by thinking that way. They make a damn good living! There's usually a line of people asking if they can repair one thing or another, and both always smile and wave goodbye to their satisfied customers, albeit with dirty hands. My shoe repair even involved a bit of a Chinese lesson. As I waited, the young man would point at things, say the Chinese word, and then wait for me to repeat. Having pity for them is such a snotty American way of looking at things! That was a moment that I loved China. Much like the first time I had a successful exchange with a cab driver, and I finally felt like I wasn't such an alien here. (My shoe place pictured above. Imagine me where the girl is sitting)
I love how friendly everyone is. I love how the city seems to be a community, and how strangers pull each other out of the street as a car speeds closer. I love how cheap everything is, and I love that my vegetable lady, shoe repair guy, massage girl (15RMB!), and taxi drivers all want to teach me Chinese and show me how to do things. I love that my students all want to be my friend and show me their home town, and I love that the foreigners all have an instant bond, "yes, I'm stuck here, too," and are eager to help you, because they remember what it felt like to first arrive here. I love the old people doing Tai Chi, and I love that my campus becomes a park on the weekends, overrun by the cutest toddlers and young children you will ever see, their parents chasing closely after them.

2 months in, China's ok.