Making Lemonade

I've become convinced that every cross-cultural move has some amount of "making lemonade out of lemons" as the old saying goes. Transitioning out of the norms of your life and your culture into a whole bunch of newness can be a bit tricky at times.

Scenes from the documentary "God Grew Tired of Us," about the Lost Boys of Sudan keep running through my mind. Kristine and I watched this film only several days before I left, and we were amazed at the boys' lack of exposure to things like indoor electricity and amused by their good-natured but often futile attempts to fit in in the United States.

But I can so identify with these boys. I can't tell you how many times in the last week I have been that awkward, out-of-place person. The reality that I don't look remotely Chinese doesn't help my case.

I'm definitely in the "just don't sink" phase of my time in China, trying to gracefully adjust into this culture but mostly wanting only to keep my head above water.

I have a terrible sense of direction, which made my first attempt at walking from the school to my flat, generally a 20-minute walk, somewhat disastrous. The first predicament I encountered was that I, as expected, got turned around and ultimately lost. The second predicament came when I tried to get directions.

I can speak just enough Mandarin to give the impression that I am competent in the language. But I am not. The woman I asked to give me directions was confused, and I think frustrated, when I was unable to understand what she was telling me, when I really just wanted her to point in the direction I should walk. Luckily, I eventually found my way back to the school, and my new friend LuLu, a receptionist for Aston, walked with me back to my apartment.

Speaking of apartments, I got to move into my new flat yesterday! I’ve always lived with other people, so I haven’t quite figured out what to do with all this space. I feel really blessed to have a place to call my own, but as always, there are some drawbacks.

My bathroom looks a little more like a utility closet with a squatty potty in the middle. In China, toilets aren’t that common in public places, but I was under the impression that most residential properties contained toilets. I was wrong. Also, my washing machine is in the corner of my bathroom, taking up what minute space I have and causing me to get potentially electrocuted if I don’t remember to unplug it before showering.

As a rule, provinces below the Yellow River don’t have indoor heating because they are comparatively warmer than the northern region. Of course, Guizhou is in the southern part of the country, but it is also in the low 40s right now and rainy most days. So I’m learning to exist in the cold and keeping really good company with my space heater.

These issues — bad bathrooms, no heating, getting lost — are relatively small in the big scheme of switching cultures. You learn to suck it up and adjust. You learn that this initial insurmountable feeling is actually comprised of smaller things you eventually learn to manage. And all at once you look back and realize that while you were once struggling to crawl you are now competently walking and even running at times, that your worldview is expanding with every comfort you learn to place aside.

I will never forget the words of my friend who has been living in Tanzania now for many years. He would always tell me, “Lauren, life minus expectations equals happiness.” I couldn’t agree with him more.