From Across the Firewall

Alternative titles: disgruntled owner of a dozen new mosquito bites, yet another blog post about the weather, why didn't anyone prepare me for how loud cicadas scream at twilight

Dear EN502,

Forget everything I said about it being hot in Montana because Beijing is worse. All last week the daytime temperatures were in the high 90s, with a humidity of between forty and eighty percent. Going outside in Montana feels like the air is trying to rob me of all the water in my body; Beijing feels the opposite. The air here is dense, wet, and hot, like a sauna. Or the inside of someone’s mouth. It’s a physical thing, crowding up against my skin and leaving me slightly sticky whenever I’m outside. It saps my energy like nothing I’ve ever known; I’m terrified of getting heat exhaustion. During my first week here, I biked to the Old Summer Palace historical site (the main imperial residence of several emperors during the Qing Dynasty, now mostly ruins). It was cool, except the park requires a lot of walking outdoors, and I got there during the hottest part of the day. I ran out of water 45 minutes in, started feeling a little weird, decided that I just hadn’t acclimated to the weather here yet, and pushed forward. Fast forward 30 more minutes and, feeling dizzy and faint, I realized continuing on was a Terrible Idea. Fortunately, I stumbled across a cafe in the park, drank two bottles of water, and sat under the air-conditioner for 15 minutes. Then I went home and called my mom, who reminded me that most sane people in China go outside early in the morning and late at night to avoid the midday summer heat.

After that, I spent my time exploring air-conditioned areas and only went on walks after the sun set.

Some of you have commented that I am brave for leaving home and trying new things (to which I say thank you, I’m very flattered), but I don’t feel brave – if anything (with my Summer Palace experience as proof), I feel slightly dumb, all the time.

Despite being fluent in Mandarin, growing up in the US means I missed most pop culture trends, so current references and slang terms go right over my head. Also, everyone speaks with a lot less articulation than I am used to (think “Where would you like to go for lunch” versus “Where do you wanna eat”), meaning I often ask them to repeat what they said several times before I fully process it. The same goes for reading and writing; I’ve never been that strong at character recognition, and my five years away from China post-Covid means that, at restaurants, I’m letting multiple people go ahead of me while I painstakingly read each menu item. Each task takes me twice or three times as long to complete than everyone around me.

On previous visits to China, I relied heavily on my mother for all my needs – food, transportation, and especially communication. She was the buffer that kept me from needing to learn mundane skills like paying for groceries, calling a taxi, or talking to strangers. Now that I’m doing it all on my own it feels like building a Lego house, but without the instructions; I know what the product should look like, and I remember some of the steps, but how the hell do all the other pieces fit together?

My solution is to do a lot of people-watching. Listening to how people order food at the counter. Covertly staring at people in the grocery store checkout line to figure out how to pay with my phone. Learning when and how to jaywalk (answer: whenever you want, if you’re prepared to dodge a scooter or car at any moment). My people-watching turned borderline obsessive; I’ve spent so long wishing I were closer to my heritage that, now that I’m in China, I’ll do anything to try and escape notice, worried that at any moment someone will point at me and shout, “impostor!!!”

I was convinced I was sticking out like a sore thumb whenever someone asked me a question and I would just stare at them before I understood what they were asking. But then I started my internship, and my lab mates have all been unfailingly patient with me; several of them messaged me after my first day to reassure me that I could ask them for help at any time. It made me realize that, while I’ve been worried that I’m not “Chinese enough”, in their eyes I am just a new student from abroad – and when has anyone ever expected someone new to know everything?

Other than the stress of holding up the food line and the embarrassment of asking someone to read something out loud for me, I don’t mind taking my time to figure things out. I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to live an ordinary life in China – biking to campus in the morning, stopping at a steamed bao stand for breakfast, going to the dining hall with my peers – and now I’m living it. Are the stressors really that bad?

A week before I left for China I was talking to a friend’s parent about how I feel like I’m torn between two worlds, America and China. But before I got too far into my self-pitying soliloquy she said, “You are so fortunate to be able to experience two totally different cultures and call both of them your own.” I am still thinking about that. It’s true; not once have I felt alienated or lonely here, despite being new to the city and not knowing anyone. China isn’t a foreign country to me; it’s another home.

There are two things that I am particularly excited about so far: playing hockey, and my internship. To my utter, pleasant surprise, the hockey scene in Beijing is not bad. I had prepared myself for a summer of no hockey and couldn’t believe it when I got in touch with someone who invited me to play pickup with them every Sunday and Tuesday. After my first skate with them, they asked me to join their summer league. I said yes, of course. I’m over the moon about it. I’m playing on borrowed gear, which is brutal, because the borrowed gear feels unfamiliar and bad so I can’t execute to the same efficiency and accuracy as I can normally. But I’m fortunate to even be able to play hockey at all, let alone three times a week, so I try not to let the frustration get to me (with varied success, depending on how well I play that night).

The other highlight is my internship, which is going great. I’m interning at the Chinese Academy of Sciences (CAS), in the Institute of Geographic Sciences and Natural Resources Research (IGSNRR) department. It’s solidified my interest in ecology and ecosystems research, which is both exciting and a huge relief – I spent this whole past year post-graduating wondering what I even liked about environmental science, if I wanted to pursue higher education, what my area of focus would be if I went to grad school. Being back in an academic setting, minus the unnecessary competitive pressure I felt as an undergrad student, is extremely rewarding. It’s given me a goal to work towards, as well – my gap year thus far has felt freeing, but rather aimless. I have a lot of new things to think about for my future.

In the meantime, I'll be enjoying my time in Beijing!

With teeth and love!

Hanna