Wingin’ it
Today marked a somewhat scary day: having to give a presentation on our business plan to bring a foreign company into Japan. As part of my International Business minor, I had to take this Global Management class as a required credit, and this was our final project.
The longer I study abroad, the more I discover who I am and my true passions. For example, I’m steadily realizing how little interest I have in business and more on social interactions and communications, and telling stories. Though I understood very little of the business material we spoke about in class, I fancied all the words spoken. While I came off nervous, which I was, bullshitting seemed to come naturally when my ass needed it. To add to seeming like I knew what was happening, I paid extra attention to other students’ presentations to ask inquisitive questions, though they were really simple.
During the half way coffee break, I was preparing to leave class so I can finish business and prepare for my mother’s visit in Hong Kong. Before walking out of class, the professor stops me to say, “You are very good at what you do, keep working at it.” I responded to this with a confused “What does that mean?” and he seemed to think I was fine. He just kept repeating that I think, speak and process information well and I should “keep working at it”. Still bewildered, I raised an eyebrow, half smiled and proceeded to going home.
I would say I’m the kind of person who can be decent at mostly anything I put my hands on, but I can be great at something for which I have a passion. Unfortunately, I’m finding out business or political studies are both equally uninteresting although all of my classes here are in those subjects. Meanwhile, I’ll still be blabbering, aka, blogging about the thought process of it all. What the professor said to me today was certainly odd, but a part of me is kind of glad he said it. He’s not my favorite professor, but it provided an ounce of affirmation that I’m not all too terrible at this, even if I hated it.
“Those kids are all single digit aged…”
The highlight of my stay in Shanghai, beside the fact that we rode on an awkward amusement park ride in the park across the street from our hotel, was definitely the acrobatic show. Many seemed to be amused since the peking duck dinner show in Beijing so shelling out the last of my yuans to see the show was all worth it for me.
We took the subway to the theater and saw a small, blind child walking through the train cars begging for money. At first I felt terrible enough, then I saw an older woman guiding him and realized this didn’t seem right. Our guide had warned us many times not to support panhandling, even if the situation tugs your hearts to do so. We began to speculate whether the child was purposely made blind as part of a gang to collect money from tourists, or what the intentions were for our donations.
I couldn’t stand it. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to confront the reality of it all. It’s a recurring theme of what it means to be happy in China, or how privileged I am despite everything. But for this, I felt helpless. I couldn’t do anything but look away and pretend to not acknowledge the poor boy and it killed me.
Anyhow, back to the show. After we exited the subway and I got my mind distracted from thinking about the child, I entered the theater and made my way to the best possible seat left. What was about to occur was just too amazing.
It started out normal enough: some prancing here, some jumping there, some flipping around. Then the children came out. Most of the acrobats/gymnasts looked as though they hadn’t even hit puberty yet and it made me wonder how they chose to pursue this profession. Was it by choice, or were they forced? What ever happened to school for them? It’s a stark difference between these children who, even if forced to enter the industry, were producing something proactive than panhandling using disability as the lure. Either way, it still bothers me how little choice some people have in China, so soon as when they start growing up.
One of the many reasons I loved this acrobatic show was the use of Star Wars music to supplement the acts. For a straw hat show, the Cantina song was played while the theme song was used for the final act. It was all too epic, but not as much as the Titanic act which everyone loved.
This act consisted of a “Jack” and “Rose” who supported each other, suspending around silk strips of fabric to “My Heart Will Go On.” 70% of those who sat around me sang along to the three loops of the song which was hilarious and entertaining. It also helped that the music video was projected along the sides of the stage to intensify the drama.
The Ball of Death, aka the final act, consisted of five motorcyclists in one circular cage, driving around and crossing each other’s paths. The fact that they drove around to the epic Star Wars music made me gleeful on the inside, but I did my best to keep my composure. By that, I mean I bopped my head around and hardcore smiled.
On the very last day of our mainland seminar, we were treated to a farewell dinner and allowed to walk around a touristy strip one last time. Marine, Chiwei and I decided to spend our last few yuans on Haagen Daaz ice cream which was so good that we left two hours later across the street from our hotel to get more. With our group of seven, we ordered an ice cream fondue set.
We had an option of several ice cream flavors, cheesecake, biscuits, and fruits dipped in either choice of white or milk chocolate. In honor of my Syracuse roommate, Noelia, I had to do a raspberry sorbet lathered in both.
Sweetest way to end such a crazy trip!
Our trip advisor, Philip Bruce, said from the beginning that “China stays in your blood” and certainly there have been a few moments that will stick with me forever. Even the first two weeks of the trip made me reminisce every so often, and I’ve no doubt this entire study abroad semester is going to last a lifetime.
Confusion
Sometimes, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I love living in Hong Kong and experiencing everything abroad, but the academic aspect leaves me bewildered and confused. I have no passion in political science or business. Okay, I whole-heartedly dislike politics regardless of its importance, and I’m only interested in business because of what my parents intend for me in the future with their current ventures.
I’m frustrated that I can’t be as good a student as I have the potential to if I was back in Syracuse taking regular classes that interest me. This makes me sound bratty, but I’m just realizing more and more that I simply can’t focus on where my heart isn’t. People choose to do certain things because they know this is what they do best or at least love to do — I’m doing neither in school. I wish I wasn’t as clueless or lost.
Party v. Party
During one of our Beijing lectures, we were split into three groups to talk to local students about their lives in China. My particular group spoke to a 25-year-old girl who lives in a tiny apartment with three other roommates. Their electricity shuts off at 11 pm which forces them to finish homework early and go to bed. In their free time, they go shopping, watch television or go to KTV’s. The most important part of her message to us was how jealous she was of our freedom. She sees us as carefree beings, allowed to do what we want when we want. Although I wouldn’t say the very case applies to me, I can see why she would think that compared to her strict lifestyle. A friend of mine here mentioned the student in his group understands partying as “political parties” and not social outings.
I spent about equally half my life growing up in Bangkok and New York, so my moral is comprised of both Western and Eastern beliefs. While “partying” is not exactly something Asians like to endorse, I think every once in a while, it’s nice to lose control. Weeks after weeks, we learn about how hard life is for students in China; everything is all work and no play. I personally couldn’t develop intellectually if I did not have a social aspect to life, something to offset how hard I have to work. I would want to have a few moments to not worry about anything and be free.
Anyways, I guess my point here is I couldn’t go to school in mainland China. My “city that never sleeps” lifestyle would never work here academically.
That night 95% of our student group went out to a bar. It was the night where I really began to know everyone and was in a casual and comfortable enough place to start speaking to the rest of the abroad group. Never having many (or any) bar experiences back in the states, I have to say that I had a positive time at Shooters. All the shots were 10 yuans ($1.29 USD) which comprised of fruit syrup and some sort of alcohol. Basically, everyone was buying little candy bars. I think as Americans, our partying style definitely freaked out locals. There were so many that just kept staring at all of us either in amazement, confusion or disgust. But of course, no one cared. We were there to celebrate just what our local student said of our lives — ones that were carefree and unrestricted. This is the first time I’m traveling on my own without family and allowed to do whatever I want. In a way, I feel like I am living the fantasies of the local Chinese students. Every day I wake up and wonder if this is all a dream.
Reflections
This entry will be a little different/more personal because I feel like this is the only place to rant/vent/what have you about how it feels so far to be the lone immigrant Thai girl (or slave, as we’ve playfully nicknamed) with all the fascinating people I’ve met so far. It will be emotional, and likely quite vulnerable, and definitely come off as a travel virgin. So skip if you’re only interested in the travel part of the “travel blog.”
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I can’t never explain how lucky I feel to be able to have this experience as we speak. Among the great sights and trips I’ve been on, I truly believe it’s human relationships, connections and communications that keep me intrigued. Being around incredibly intelligent people who have had such interesting, unique life experiences and interests blows my mind. Sadly, people like these are hard to come by (particularly in Syracuse … there, I said it.) And if it’s pathetic enough to have to admit such thing, clearly I’ve not explored the world enough.
Sometimes, it makes me wish I was more interesting or had something to add to what they’re saying beside “That’s cool” or similar phrases, but I can hardly because I’m simply not witty enough. I hate how extreme my personality is — I have a high tolerance for physical pain but I am so goddamn emotionally weak. I want to belong, but I’m only trying. I want to inspire, but I’m not a muse.
My mother opened her second restaurant last night, and as we converse via Skype, I couldn’t get over how amazing it is for a person like her to come from an underprivileged life with no settled home, parents or higher education to be able to accomplish so much. Today she’s able to send me and my brother to college among other things, and here I fucking-am in Hong Kong. I can only hope these moments I’m currently having here will eventually turn into stories as captivating as the ones I’m told by my newfound peers. I think this, what I’m living right now, is the life my mother has always wanted but never had the chance to attain. I’m generally not a selfish person, never can be (it’s therapist proven) so I can never stop thinking of my mother and how I wish we could trade places if only for a day.
I can’t understand why anyone would discourage or turn down the opportunity to study abroad. I feel like I’m on a getaway, a fantasy. Every time I call home there’s a mess of emotions, struggles and sadness amongst the circle of people I call “friends and family,” but I’ve yet to have a fullblown shitty day. As a Libra, I’m not one to believe that only one side of the scale can be tipped. With equal happiness is equal FML moments which I’m not really having. This is all a dream.
None of this makes sense. Don’t do your best to try to make any out of it. I woke up this morning not knowing what’s happening to me and my only option was to relegate to writing, aka blabbering. If it’s one thing I know about myself, it’s how refreshing it is to know that no matter what, this will always be cathartic. I guess what I’m trying to say here is I’m so overwhelmed with how amazing these past few weeks have been I can barely control how fast my head is spinning, yet I don’t want it to stop.
