I have a 15 page paper due in 2 days, and I haven't started it yet. I have half a sermon to prepare for about my "missionary endeavors" (cough) in China, but here I am, cursed with a need to write because I feel like I'm caged in this house.
It's the little things that start adding up but have nowhere to go. It's eating these bland tangerines, but having no street vendors outside to sell me sweet little ones. It's having a random spike of electricity in my brain strike the bubble tea neuron, only to realize I can't walk down the street and order at the hole in the wall by saying, "what I usually get, small." It's making lamb kabobs because I miss them so much, and having everyone at the party love them, except myself.
Having spent the last two days snowboarding, it's so strange to be a minority again. Being dropped in white youth culture... that's culture shock with 3 shots of expresso and an uppercut. And the Asians here, they all speak perfect English. Where are the Korean and Chinese accents? Where is the bad fashion sense and inability to apply makeup?? When I walked out the ski lodge and a punk made a racial comment, I wanted to physically relieve my frustration on his face.
I felt like a muzzled dog when I couldn't yell "fu wu yuan!" in the Chinese restaurant. (Why does the food just suck??)
Gah! Why is everything so damn expensive?!
It's strange to be a minority again. Self-consciousness is probably mostly internal, but it exists nonetheless.
People, things, feel so myopic here.
I said it before I went to China, and I'll say it again... I have no desire to stay here.... My heart has too much wanderlust.
No comments:
Post a Comment