All the snow this week in Texas has brought back memories of a time when I lived in one of the coldest cities in the world. I didn't choose to live there, but being assigned to a school in northeast China was a chance happening. In 1st grade, I remember reading an article about the ice hotel in Sweden, and I thought it would be really cool to sleep on a bed made out of ice.
Well, I didn't actually sleep on a bed of ice, but I was practically walking on ice for six months of the year.
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Visiting the ice festival back in 2013.
I wanted to hug some ice.
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Getting this much snow in Texas has been a first for everyone in my family. My daughter thoroughly enjoyed herself and spent at least 1-2 hours outside playing everyday. Yes, even when it was 6 degrees outside. I reluctantly went outside as well to play with her and actually had a little bit of fun myself. Although I consider myself a true adult and have fully immersed myself in the world of adulting, I did gain a new insight on snow: true powdery snow has the consistency of damp sand. It doesn't pack well which makes building snowmen very difficult, but has a therapeutic feel to it when picked up and fluffed between the hands.
The snow, however, inspired me to revisit my memoir I wrote about my year living overseas. I haven't read it myself in many years and decided to take some time and reread it.
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Once upon a time, I had time to write, edit, and self-publish my own book.
Now I just read picture books to my kids. 🤷🏻♀️ |
Reading it this time was a little different because the memories felt more faraway and distanced. If I didn't know any better, it was like I was reading someone else's retelling of their experience overseas. Many of the memories, had I not written them down at the time they happened, I would never remember. Some of the memories bring back clear mental images after reading. I can still remember the faces and names of certain students. I can still remember my apartment number, the floor plan, and the layout of my furniture.
But a lot has changed.
For starters, I found a lot more grammatical and writing errors. A little background information. When I wrote my books, I would write it, create the book, and order one copy. After that copy arrived, I would reread it and mark corrections in the book. Then, I would go back into the program and make all these changes before bulk orders to share. As I read, I found a lot of errors I still missed as well as some stylistic changes I would change if I were to write it again. I'd like to say despite not utilizing my English potential to its fullest, my writing today is still better than it was eight years ago.
Secondly, the person I am has changed. I think that's to be expected and beneficial. I'm almost eight years older than I was when I completed the book and my roles as a person have changed. I am now a wife, mother, and still a teacher, although not of English. I read a lot of anecdotes where I wanted to react differently to the situation. But alas, I was not that person eight years ago and reacted the way I did.
Ironically, I'd like to say my Chinese has gotten better, especially in regards to speaking. True, I am not immersed in the language and do not see Chinese on street signs or store labels, but by speaking Chinese to my daughter and reading Chinese children's books, I am using it almost 100% of the day. I did not do this in China as I had American teammates as well as English classes to teach.
Reading my old memories made me realize more clearly the extent of what I experienced.
1. There are a lot of creeps out there, and I encountered quite a few. I didn't realize how many awkward moments I actually experienced until I reread the stories I wrote. And these are only the ones I wrote down.
2. I experienced a lot of cultural confusion. I was neither fully American nor fully Chinese, and being in China exposed a lot of it. There were many times when it made me confused or angry.
3. Chinese people didn't know how to treat me - they couldn't treat me as fully American and they couldn't treat me as fully Chinese. This put them in a sort of limbo, caught in the middle. And if it wasn't that, they'd flirt with me because I was a special kind of "exotic."
4. I had more culture shock in Thailand than China.
If you were one of the lucky few to receive a copy of this book, thank you for showing interest in a very special year of my life. I hope it was able to provide a fresh perspective and some interesting memories for you to partake in. I do miss writing the way I used to, but I know this time of my life brings me other responsibilities and tasks. Perhaps someday, I will get to bind my writing between covers again. For now, you can read about my life happenings here on the blog.
