Laura and the Chinese Taffy Machine.

 

Who am I in China?

During our training in Beijing when we first got here, we were warned that in China we wouldn’t be quite the same.

It makes sense. You would expect that an experience like this would make you more mature, give you a broader view of the world, and cause you to change.

Something you don’t expect, however, is just how much being overseas changes you to the point where you aren’t quite sure who you are anymore.

In my college Sociology class, we learned that it’s impossible to describe yourself apart from the people and the things around you. So what happens when your entire environment changes and the people around you are all people you’ve never met before? What happens when you can’t access the things that used to bring you comfort?  YIKES.

Example: Once upon a time in America Wonderland, when I would get frustrated, I used to make chocolate chip cookies, go to a coffee shop, call a friend, or walk around the neighborhood to calm back down. Here, I don’t have chocolate chips, it’s a big hassle to go out to a coffee shop, I can’t call my friends unless I plan it several days in advance, and going for a walk is only good on the not-as-smoggy-or-freezing-or-sweltering days.

It wasn’t until mid-year that I finally felt like sort-of like “myself” again, and it wasn’t exactly the same self as it used to be. This different self needs more rest, likes Chinese food, enjoys cooking, drinks less coffee, thinks more deeply, experiences more frustration, and cherishes people differently. Her hair is longer and her face has changed.

Part of it’s growing up. Part of it’s culture shock. Part of it’s adopting a bit of China.

I will be returning home in less than six weeks, and now I’m really curious to see who I am—again. Who will I be after passing the initial weeks--months--of feeling completely overwhelmed, frustrated, joyful, and loved? When I won’t be around the people who were there every day as I grew in China? When I won’t have access to the things and people here who brought me comfort for the last year?

And will all the people at home expect me to be the same girl I was when I left?

I’m not whining, but these are some of the questions I'm pondering as I get ready to step back on the plane back to the place I came from.

So excited.

So scared.

And so curious. 

I've spent my entire life changing, and I expect that I will continue to do so. 

But this year was like being stuck in a taffy machine, getting stretched so much I don't even remember exactly what I looked like when I started. And it wasn't just one part of me that grew--my inner core has been molded, twisted, and shaped this year in ways that I wasn't expecting.

They say one year of growth here is like three years of growth back in the states.

I'd believe it.

And it's not over yet.