This is a little late, but I just wanted to let you all know that after 20 hours of traveling, 17 photos taken of Winnie, 13 times pulling out our boarding passes and 1 very thorough patdown John got from an overzealous female security guard in Beijing, we've arrived safe and sound.
Culture shock started before we even got on the plane, as we tried to avoid the stares of the hundreds of Chinese sitting at the boarding gate with us. (Because they couldn't just walk around O'hare for a few minutes and take a few pictures of white people to get the Asian tourist bug out of their system?) They were shameless enough I almost have to wonder if it is considered poor ettiquette in China NOT to stare. For instance, if anyone neglected to stare at us, the person next to them would nudge them and point at Winnie's hair and then squeeze Lewis' thighs as if it were their moral responsibility to make sure everyone paid homage to the fattest baby ever seen.
Now that we're here, I have to admit I find the city somewhat depressing. Really depressing. It's as if some totalitarian government took one step beyond utilitarian architecture by intentionally avoiding anything beautiful enough to provide distraction from the monotonous productivity they expect from their mass population.
But that only happens in scary Orwellian novels, right?
I have to admit my perception might be skewed by the fact that I have never lived in the city before. It could also be skewed by the fact that I read the whole Hunger Games trilogy on the airplane. Nothing like that to give you a despondent view of humanity
I'm trying to remind myself that we came here to learn the language,which will come pretty quickly as no one speaks English. I also have not yet been able to recognize anything but chicken feet in the grocery store
so I've reframed my expectations to think of this whole adventure as Intensive Immersive Language Program meets Fat Camp.
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