A Letter to China
Dear China,
It’s difficult to put into words what China means to me. This country is where my love for travel began, where I first lived completely on my own, where I started my first job after college, where my girlfriend and I moved in together, where I met some friends for life, and it’s where I miss most in the world right now. But I find it mightily strange that I miss it so much at this moment because two months ago I couldn’t wait to move on. But everyone knows the old saying… “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” I find that one of the only ways to describe my long history with China is through this analogy: I am once again a five-year-old boy on Christmas morning who just received the greatest toy he’d ever laid eyes on.
On August 1st, 2018 I hopped on a plane to China without knowing what I would be walking into on the other side. Kind of like trying to guess what the present is without shaking the box first. However, from the moment I arrived I was hooked. I think one of the happiest periods of my entire life was the first 4–5 months that I lived in China. I couldn’t believe how much I loved it. And all I wanted to do was play with my new toy at all times, aka fully embrace the culture, learn Mandarin, take countless trips, and just experience all things Asia for the very first time. Those beginnings were so blissful. I dove head first into the culture and took unforgettable trips that will stick with me forever. Places like Shanghai, Beijing, the Avatar mountains, Nanjing, and so many others. It was like I was walking in a lucid dream. I even had my sister Jessica and my girlfriend Tereza over for a visit and I couldn’t wait to show off all I knew about this place. China, to me, was that one present you got that just about every other kid on the block was jealous of.
But, as all things do, the newness, the blissfulness, the honeymoon phase, began to wear off. China began to feel familiar. I would spend nights just laying around my apartment doing nothing rather than heading back out into the night to soak up some more culture. Sometimes it was like I forgot about it and where I was living for a while. Like a toy gathering dust in the corner of your room. Occasionally, I would dust it off and remember how fun it was to wander the streets and be one with the locals. The feeling never lasted as long though. As time progressed, I formed a routine and started exploring any alternatives I could. Instead of sticking around for holidays, I always went to a new country, a newer present. I traveled all around Asia (Thailand, Vietnam, South Korea, etc.) and had great experiences along the way. That’s when I began living for other countries and counting down the days until I could leave China again. And there’s something so inherently sad about that. Only living for tomorrow and a new place when right in front of me were endless opportunities to explore.
Then everything changed when Tereza moved to China. It’s like my veil was lifted and I could see China clearly again. Almost like I had completely left it in my attic to rot before stumbling across it when I least expected it. Experiencing it with her made it all feel new again. She had never taken these trips, never had these experiences, so together we fully enjoyed the colossal beauty that was China.
Even so, I began to see in her eyes what happened to my own eyes. The novelty wore off. It was like we exhausted all options and just kept looking forward to the next Christmas or birthday when a new present would arrive, ready to be opened. Time continued like this for a long, depressing downward slope. It got to the point where both of us had completely grown out of this place and longed for a new, fresh start, with breaking our contracts early being at the forefront of many conversations. But you better be careful what you wish for. As if right on cue, here comes the infamous coronavirus.
As soon as the virus outbreak began, we both left China in a daze. We wanted nothing to do with this outbreak and what it could mean for the nation. The coronavirus kind of felt like someone came and stomped all over our toy, but we didn’t even know how much the toy meant to us. It was like China was something we always knew would be there even if we didn’t appreciate it. It’s been over two months since I have been able to return to China and I miss it so much that my stomach aches. I want to walk over to the local restaurant and order Kung pao chicken in Mandarin. I want to head to the mall right down the street to watch a movie and maybe go to KTV with some friends after. I want to order coffee to my door just by using my phone. I want to ride my e-bike on a warm night and feel the cool wind on my face. I want to talk with some locals who are so friendly that they won’t leave you alone until they know you are fully taken care of. I want to see my kids in school that I didn’t realize how much I would miss. I want to play video games on my PS4. Oh, my PS4 that’s been stuck in my cold apartment! I want to wake up on a Monday (our weekend) and make pancakes for breakfast and then at dinnertime go on our usual date night to a new restaurant. I want to take a train ride to a new city and see some more temples or megacities.
There are so many things in China I never even considered that made it so special to me. Just because it was familiar, didn’t make it less important to me. Just like a kid who gets a toy on Christmas that they play with so often it becomes boring, eventually being cast aside fully. Nonetheless, the thought of throwing it out shouldn’t even be a question. Just how important it is can’t be overlooked. That’s China to me, the old toy, the forgotten child, yet without it there is a part of me missing. Something that I need to have back.
See you soon, China,
Jake
