Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship

Tarrajna in China

“Setting Foot on One’s Own Country as a Foreign Land”

Nearly every day of my semester abroad my colleagues and I would long for something we missed about the States, whether it be something as seemingly trivial as “real” ketchup, or something as abstract as the subtle pleasure of public anonymity. Now that I am back in the States, I am struck by the truth of the fact that we human beings never seem to be able to be content with the things we have in front of us—the grass is indeed greener on the other side of the fence, or in this case, on the other side of “the pond”.Xiahe

Right away, standing at the baggage claim at O’Hare airport in Chicago, I felt the pangs of reverse culture shock. Everything was in English! The intercom announcements, the signs, the chatter of the people around me. I had become so used to having to strain to understand even the most simple intercom announcement, and eavesdropping had become a learning activity rather than an automatic reflex. But the strongest shock of all was the overt physical difference of the people. There were people of all different shapes, sizes, skin-colors, and languages being spoken. I had become so used to the ostensible homogeneity of the appearances of the Chinese public. As superficial as this observation may be, it leaves a strong impression upon any “foreigner” who has spent time in China and does not fit this physical mold. Returning to the United States reminded me of the unique quality of our nation, which brings together people from diverse nations, language-groups, ethnicities, religions, and political ideologies. For that reason, it felt good to be back. Despite the long journey home, I waited for my bags with a big grin on my face.

A few days later, I found myself sitting alone in my apartment, eating Chinese takeout with chopsticks. It was only then that I became aware of how much I missed life in China, and how much of an impact my time there had on me on so many levels. I miss the cheap food, the snack carts that can be found on any given corner at any given hour, the fresh produce markets, the hot soymilk for fifty cents, no tipping, the men and women gathered in mornings and evenings in the local park, square, or parking lot, practicing tai-chi, ball-room dancing, roller-blading, or playing the Chinese version of hackey-sack (and the sense of community these scenes express). I miss the novelty of each new day’s experience, and the challenge that was sure to present itself in struggling to accomplishing even the most basic tasks. I miss the camaraderie of my colleagues and the intensity of my Chinese language course. And possibly most of all, I miss the WeChat stickers.

On the other hand, it is great to be back. It is hard to do justice to the joy of switching on my phone, and being able to open youtube, facebook, gmail, or perform a google search in a matter of seconds. Not to mention the ease of going online in general—I can actually upload photos and stream movies without having to connect to a VPN!! At times the Great Firewall was beyond enraging, particularly around mid-terms and finals when all I needed was to quickly access my email or look something up, but it takes over an hour for your VPN to connect, or the internet is operating slower than the speed of molasses and nothing will load.

The first time I went out to dinner with my family after getting back, I just could not decide what to order. Everything sounded amazing, and for the life of me I could not pull the trigger. Only in retrospect did I realize that this was in part due to the fact that for the first time in five months I could actually read and understand everything that was on the menu—no wonder I had trouble: there were so many options!! It’s also very nice to have hot water at any hour of the day, and to be able to drink water out of the tap without a second thought. And though it is so quickly taken for granted, I am so happy not to have to worry about checking the air quality index on a day-to-day basis, or whether or not I should wear a mask. The air here in Chicago may be freezing cold, but hey—at least it is clean.DSC_0524

At least for me, China is a place that you can’t have a fling with. Even a short period of time spent living there changes you. The cultural differences, the language, the food, the way of life—all of it gets under your skin and becomes a part of you. Its influence envelopes you and beckons you back. After I graduate this spring, I want to return for a longer period of time. I want to make more progress in speaking Mandarin. I want to continue to travel within China in order to experience first-hand its complexity and diversity. I would like to live in a city other than Beijing, just to get a feel for a different city with a different feel than the capital. I plan to take at least a year to travel and work there, before continuing on to graduate school. I am confident that the progress in language skill in addition to the experiences gained from traveling in a foreign land will become defining life-long assets. I can say that this semester study abroad, though it seemed to fly by, has definitively shaped my future goals and the course of my life’s path. I am infinitely grateful to have had the opportunity to study abroad, and encourage anyone with a similar opportunity to jump on it. You will not be disappointed.

Culture Shock in Forward and Reverse

Upon arrival in Beijing, I was terrified to cross the street. Mopeds, taxis, three-wheeled vehicles, cars and buses all vied jealously and chaotically for a place in the flow of traffic, and there seemed absolutely no rhyme or reason to the process. I did not want to lose my life in a traffic accident on the first few days in China, so I made sure to stick close to a local, moving when he moved, and stopping when she stopped. Each street-crossing was exhilarating. Everything was new, foreign, and picture-worthy, from the ubiquitous red-lanterns hanging outside buildings to the colorful reds, blues and greens of temples.

Now I cross the street with ease, not even thinking twice about it. I hardly even look twice when I see the donkey pulling a cart of walnuts amidst the metropolitan traffic. The street-vendors, lion statues, sharply-dressed security guards standing in their glass boxes, and even the fried-duck heads piled up in a cart for sale hardly cause me to bat an eye. I feel at home here, or at least accustomed to daily life in Beijing.

I think that culture shock inevitably occurs when thrown into a completely new situation, especially when one does not speak the local language. However, there are varying degrees of shock depending on the country, the nature of the program, and the individual. Studying abroad in Beijing allows one to choose to what extent he or she wants to be immersed in the culture. Because it is a huge metropolitan city and the capital of China, there are plenty of areas, bars, and restaurants to go to that feel more American or “Western”. I have tried to stay away from those places as much as possible, and to instead seek out the more typical Beijing. Although I am taking nearly three hours of Chinese class four days a week, in addition to time spent with my Chinese tutor, my program is still predominantly based in speaking English. I think that this was a good way to first experience China, but has definitely created a cushion for the level of cultural shock I have had to face. If living with a host family or taking courses all in Mandarin, the shock would have been far greater.

Nonetheless, I’ve definitely had my fair share of the phases of cultural shock, purely due to the inevitable fact of living in a foreign country. Being away from family and friends has been challenging, especially when facing personal challenges that call for someone you are close with to talk to. The most acute shock I have felt, shared by many of my colleagues, is tied to food. I find it amusing that for someone with little relative interest in food, it could become such a central part of my homesickness. Never before have I realized how much bread, cheese, tacos, and a good juicy burger and fries mean to me. Comfort food is definitely real. But everyone finds ways to cope, whether it be indulging in that overpriced burger at a western-style joint, or buying produce at the local market to make a yummy batch of guacamole with your friends.

What I worry about is reverse culture shock. Now that I am finally starting to feel at home here, what will it be like to go back? Parting from all of the great people I’ve met here will be sad. Seeing family and friends again will be great, but it will be so hard to encapsulate and communicate what life here in China was like, and all of the incredible experiences that I’ve had.

Leaving the Comfort of Home: #Chinathings, traveling as opportunity, and more!

“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things—air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky—all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.” ~Cesare Pavese

Although aspects of this characterization of traveling ring true for me, I would counter that overall, traveling is less of a brutality than an opportunity. An opportunity for personal growth in so many ways. Traveling does force one to trust strangers and be distanced from family and friends, but in such circumstances one is compelled to make new friends, and perhaps even family. Trusting strangers deepens empathy, forces one to be humble and allows one to understand other ways of being. In this sense, I enjoy the feeling of being “constantly off balance” that traveling inevitably brings and see it more as a positive sign of growth. The feeling of being off balance derives from the absence of the kind of comfort we find in familiarity and routine. Each day here in China, I add to my list of #chinathings, i.e. cultural differences from life in the United States, be they subtle or glaring. The chaos of the streets, with mopeds, pedestrians, bikes and cars all vying to get where they need to go, jockeying for space in accordance with some unspoken set of rules that has ostensibly little to do with the lines painted on the road or the color of the traffic lights. Toddlers sporting pants with a slit between the legs for easy relief on the streets, in the park, or even (yes, really) while being held by mom over a trash can in the train station. Old and young, man or woman, hocking up loud, rattling loogies to spit unabashedly onto the sidewalk. A father and son, squatting on a main street corner in the evening around a blazing fire, fueled by fake paper money in remembrance of a deceased relative. Red lanterns decorating the awnings of restaurants and shops (red here represents prosperity, good luck, and national pride). Pairs of stone-carved dragons guarding the entrance to important buildings. The face masks, decorated with colorful patterns ranging from anime characters to the Apple logo, or simple blue or white surgical mask-esque. The contrast of the orderly lines that form in the subway in accordance with the neatly marked arrows painted on the ground where the train doors line up with the pushing and shoving and hardcore race that breaks out for the coveted train seat when the doors actually open. Construction everywhere, anytime. Something is always being demolished, while nearby, something is in the process of being built. Ancient buildings far older than the United States of America juxtaposed with McDonald’s, Starbucks and the local favorite: KFC. Young women strolling along the street on a sunny day, wielding decorated parasols to shield their skin from the rays of the sun. Elderly ladies out in the early mornings or evenings in the park, square, or parking lot, dancing to Chinese pop tunes or communist era songs emanating from a crackling boom box, possibly from the same era.  Young and old men gathered around a card or Chinese checkers table, perched on short stools while animatedly slapping cards down or consulting each other on strategy for the next move.  Often one of the men has brought his birdcage along (presumably for good luck? Or perhaps he just likes the soothing chirps to lower his blood pressure while he plays…) Young couples out in the parks or tourist spots taking wedding photos, the groom looking nervously modest, while the beautiful bride shines in an elaborate red or white (often rented for the occasion) wedding dress.  Peddlers of fresh fruit, piping hot sweet potatoes or chestnuts, candied fruit, or skewers of chuan(r)—various types of grilled meat—lined up along the road and selling their wares off the back of a three-wheeler cart, mo-ped, or little boxlike truck.

These are but a few of the #chinathings I have noticed so far. They liven up life here and make each day new and exciting. However, they also reinforce the sensation of difference and otherness that breeds a feeling of being “off balance” and homesickness. The amazing thing about human beings is that we can become accustomed to nearly any environment. As opposed to non-stop traveling, reflected by Mr. Pavese’s sentiment, the study abroad experience allows one due time to become accustomed to a new place (often just in time to return to one’s home-country and re-accustom oneself to life there!). Upon arrival, many of the above mentioned #chinathings seemed strange to me, and I most certainly held a negative and judgmental attitude toward some of them. However, after having lived here in Beijing for nearly two months, I have become accustomed to most of it. My established routine brings a sense of order and comfort to my life here, and I can always retreat to the relative safety of my dorm room if things get too strange. Traveling affords so many opportunities, both in terms of personal growth as well as in regards to the plethora of new things to try and to make yours.

Entering the Black Hole: Month #1 in China

DSC_0081

Hello!  My name is Tarrajna Walsh, and I am a senior from Loyola University Chicago in the United States.  I am studying abroad for a semester at The Beijing Center located on the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing, China.  Almost exactly a month ago today I arrived at the Beijing airport–my first time on Chinese soil!  I was fortunate enough to have had a direct flight from Chicago, and about 12 hours later (my flight was two hours earlier than anticipated!), I spied my first glimpse of the Asian continent.  I had a middle seat, so I had to lean forward and crane my neck to get a look out the window without appearing to be staring at my neighbor.  When I saw the tan colored hue of a jagged mountain range far below, a feeling of excitement mixed with anxiety washed over me.  What in the world had I gotten myself into?  Flying to China may as well have been flying to the moon.  Though I had seen pictures of Chinese cities and rural landscapes, watched Chinese films, and met with many people who had been to China in the months leading up to my own trip, I had a very abstract grasp of China.  I even had difficulty imagining what it would look like.  Needless to say, as we prepared for landing, I felt instead as if we were flying into a black hole.

Since arriving in Beijing, I have been overwhelmed with new impressions and experiences.  That is the joy of traveling, especially to a place where you do not speak the language.  Everything is a new–and often challenging–experience.  The most perfunctory aspects of daily life at home–shopping, ordering food, going to the bathroom–become the most challenging experiences while abroad.

Before arriving, I heard many things about China.  I was told that the food is very delicious, and very different than Chinese food in the States.  After being here for a month, I would have to agree.  Chinese food in the U.S. mainly derives from the Cantonese region of southern China, whereas there are many diverse regions reflected in the food here in China, such as Sichuanese (spicy!), Hunanese, Hui, Tibetan, etc.  I also imagined a relatively heterogeneous population, as compared to the diversity of ethnicity and nationality in U.S. metropolitan areas.  Although the vast majority of Chinese people are Han Chinese, there are many different ethnicities and sub-cultures represented as well.  For example, while on our two-week excursion along the ancient Silk Road Route into western China (more about that in another post!), I encountered a wide diversity of people.  There were many Hui Muslim people in Lanzhou, Gansu, identifiable by a round, white cap worn by men, and a hejab worn by women.  We also met Tibetan Chinese in Xia’he, Gansu, located on an outer cusp of the Tibetan Plateau.

An immediate impression I had of China–well, Beijing at least–upon arrival was that it is very dirty.  That impression has not really changed, although the subway is impressively clean (especially compared with Chicago’s El).  Another impression/expectation I had was that people would not be particularly friendly toward strangers.  I have been pleasantly surprised to find that in many cases I was wrong.  Shopkeepers, waiters/waitresses, and random passersby have been very cheerful, patient, and friendly many times when I needed help.  And as with any city, there are the not-so-friendly people as well.  But by far my greatest impression of people in China has been their curiosity about foreigners.  Especially while traveling along the Silk Road, my colleagues and I were asked numerous times to take photos with strangers, stared at, talked about in Chinese, and generally scrutinized.  Coming from the diversity of the United States, this was at first a surprising and unsettling experience, but we soon learned to enjoy it, especially after realizing that people were as curious about us as we were about them and their nation.  We soon coined the expression #Chinafamous, and were lamenting that we would lose this special attention upon our return to our respective countries.

One major observation I have made since arriving here is how crucial food is to identity.  I would not consider myself anywhere close to being a foodie, and yet even I have felt the pangs of being away from one’s home cuisine and comfort food.  Though Chinese food offers a wide variety and can be extremely delicious, there are some moments when I really miss one of my home staple foods: tacos.  I know the exact taco place I will visit for my first meal when I get home.  Nonetheless, this is Beijing and there are reportedly several authentic taco shops here, though I have yet to seek them out.  On the flip-side, one aspect of China I already know will be missed when I leave are the jianbing: a burrito-like food consisting of batter made from millet spread over a round griddle, with an egg cracked over it and cooked in, lettuce, sauce, spice, some yet-unidentified crunchy thing, and meat of your choice all rolled in.  Mostly all the study-abroad students in my program, myself included, eat this for lunch every day.  It costs about $1.50 and is absolutely delicious.  Yes, $1.50.  Food here is much cheaper than the U.S., and there is no tipping.  Yet another reason it will be difficult to go back.

After returning from our Silk Road excursion, we launched right into classes.  I am taking Intensive Chinese four times a week for almost three hours each day.  My professor is an excellent teacher, and only speaks in Chinese.  This is really challenging!!  There are some days after class when I head straight back to my dorm (well, after a tasty jianbing hot off the griddle) and take a nap.  Three hours of Chinese can be mentally exhausting, but overall I can already see that I am making much faster progress here than back home, simply due to the immersion experience.  All my classes are quite engaging, and I am confident that I will have a far greater understanding of Chinese culture, history, and society than before arriving.  Nonetheless, China is a huge nation with a vast history.  I feel strongly that one semester here will only reveal the tip of what promises to be a tremendous iceberg.

U.S. DEPARTMENT OF STATE BUREAU OF EDUCATIONAL AND CULTURAL AFFAIRS

The Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship Program is a program of the U.S. Department of State with funding provided by the U.S. Government and supported in its implementation by the Institute of International Education (IIE).

Copyright 2023 Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship Program. All Rights Reserved

Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions | Sitemap