A Birthday to Remember

A lot has happened over the last few weeks. We've all grown a bit tired of one another's company, been worked hard by Prof. Fields in his course on Chinese and Vietnamese nationalism, rubbed shoulders with President Thomas and his wife at the swanky Shangri-La Hotel, and I've matured to the ripe old age of twenty-three. That's right, I've officially reached the sixth position in the Pacrim hierarchy and am now reaping the sweet, sweet benefits.

After celebrating Thanksgiving with five imported turkeys, which our Chinese hosts politely ate, despite their dislike for the taste of this foreign bird, we all participated in a small tour about the bridges of Fuzhou, one of China's major port cities. The mixing of old, imperial establishments and new sky scrappers and apartment complexes creates a colorful, architectural juxtaposition that leaves one's head spinning. Contrary to many of my peers sentiments about the place, I really enjoyed our time in Fuzhou. It is one of the places in Asia that my brother and I have come to classify as "honestly imperfect" and I think this is an outcome of the bitter sweetness we feel after having lived in places such as China. The bitterness is a product of the usual discomforts of developing countries: poverty, pollution, rapid urban development and a pervasive, often hugely disheartening consumer culture.

As for the sweetness, this was due in large part to our kind hosts from Hwa Nan Women's College. We were introduced to our Hwa Nan "buddies" our first full day in Fuzhou and were subsequently invited out on hikes to nearby mountains, treated to many meals, given tours of the city, and asked a multitude of questions by these fine young ladies. Any shyness we felt upon meeting one another was soon overcome by the burning desire to brush up on our rusty foreign language skills and by the possibility of learning something substantial about the city and it's history. There is nothing like having access to the local community during travel; it opens up many new doors and alters one's perspective of a place in a way that is otherwise unattainable. To be able to scratch beneath the surface is quite unique in our unusual situation.

My birthday was one of many during our three weeks stay but was one I will never forget. I woke up at the crack of dawn for a hike up Gushan, a nearby mountain, with my buddy, Eva, her friend Vera, and Karin. After an hour long bus ride and a steady two-hour climb to the top, we looked out over the haze at the Fuzhou landscape and caught our breath before heading down into the crowded streets once more. Afterwards we ate some traditional, greasy McDonald's, cake, and then there was nothing to do but dance, dance, dance. And dance we did. I capped off the evening with a short and harmless conversation with the CCP police, which brought the festivities to a firm close. 

While my own views on China are not shared by the whole of our group, I am grateful for the opinions of even the most unhappy of our members. I've learned a lot about these people and have come to know their best and worst sides, as they have learned of mine. It is an interesting kind of experiment we are a part of and I think we are all learning to adapt in ways we never thought possible, even if it means enduring a bit of discomfort at times. With the trials of China living and personal travel in Japan behind us, we are ready for the next curve ball to be thrown. But first there is the arrival of family, Christmas, and lounging on the beaches of Vietnam to enjoy.

photos: Olivia, Eva, and Vera on Gushan, me blowing out candles in our classroom.