Parting Words for Qingdao

And so begins my final hours in Qingdao. Sitting in my room (which must overlap with either the 3rd or 4th ring of hell) and looking out over the city, I can't help but feel a little nostalgia mixed with a tinge of sadness at leaving. But the more I think about it, the less I can actually pinpoint anything particularly extraordinary happening here that's Qingdao specific. All the good times were had because of people making them such. Yes it's a coastal city, yes it's got loads of history, and yes it's got a fairly good economy. Does that make a place enjoyable, though? We can't just expect a place to give meaning to us; we have to create it ourselves. The people that made the city what it was to me are almost all gone now. Maybe that's why the city feels like a husk of itself, maybe that's what I was feeling before? A desire for a return to normalcy of sorts? But that won't happen, so I'll take it in stride. As I prepare my bags and reflect on Qingdao and what made my 6 months here the great experience that it was, I realize it was the brightness, and quality of my friends that left an impression on the city. I hope... no, strive to create such impressions, moments and memories in my travels in the future, so people will look back and say, "You know, Xiamen is a really cool city, but I can't put my finger on why..." Bring out the best of not just the people, but the places you go, the events you attend, the work you do; there's only us stopping ourselves.

On Being a 老外 (lao3 wai4,) a Foreigner

My posts from here on out won't be like this, and I don't intend to offend anyone with this. Yes, there is a difference between intention and effect, but I'm fed up and want to get this off my chest. Don't get me wrong, I still love China. But some days it just rubs me the wrong way. Today was one of those days. I was standing in my neighborhood, waiting for a friend to come down from his 6th floor apartment, marveling at the way light diffused through the twilit fog while a bunch of Chinese kids and one of their parents were playing speed badminton in the park across from me. The game wasn't anything worth watching, as I've spent more than a year living in China and it's a common occurrence. But one of the small boys decided to shout out and point with his racket, "看！老外！" "Look! A foreigner!" It happens so often here that I normally ignore the exclamation, sometimes I even joke and describe myself as such, a foreigner. There's nothing wrong with that, right? ...right? This time though, it struck me wrong. Why is that okay?! Before you say, "Sterling, stop being so sensitive, it's just what they do here in China. It's the nice way of saying it. It's not 洋鬼子, (foreign devil,) anymore. Just relax," let me just compare that with America. Would you point out someone's foreignness? Would you treat them as a second class citizen? The answer should be no. That little boy pointing to me and exclaiming with such glee at how I differed from him just because of my looks got me fuming. Why didn't the parent stop him and say, that's rude? Because they don't view me the same way they see themselves. As a foreigner, I'm just a novelty to the average citizen. And if you come to China without being Chinese, you'll be a novelty as well. But novelties aren't quite human. When I first came here, I thought it was so cool, to be so different, to be able to talk with Chinese and get special treatment. But the special treatment doesn't last. Now I just want to be treated as an equal. It's exhausting not to be.