Writing my final manifesto/research paper on this trip, I’m thinking on re-reading it that it rings more philosophical than I might have intended. If you don’t want to hear a bit of my thoughts on travel, people and life, then you’re not really in the right place. There’s an exit behind you, but I’d rather you stay.
I’ve sat on this task for almost a full 8 months now, and it’s finally over a year after I left that I’m sitting down with real determination to write the final chapter of this story. I’m calling it a story because I think of it as a story; it’s a tale of experiences, people met, times had and sometimes a mere recounting of deeds done. There’s a cast of dozens, most of whom you (my patient and wonderful audience) haven’t met in name but have heard of as you read this blog over the months I spent in a little town called Beijing.
Alright, kids. I’m going to give you a bit of a rundown on why I haven’t actually written this for so long. The creative lie would be that I’ve been busy. The honest truth would be that every time I’ve sat down and attempted to write a few pages on such a massively life changing experience, I’ve had to re-live the memories. And the worst thing about re-living memories of people you don’t have around you all the time is that you miss those. It’s not a ‘I miss the days when the Simpsons was funny’ sort of feeling. It’s more a ‘Fuck. Here I sit, 8 months after last seeing these people and I still wake up with their faces on my mind.’ It’s love in a deeply platonic sense; the transitory nature of these trips makes you seek out someone, anyone, with whom you can share yourself. If you’re lucky, those people share right back. That’s where the trouble begins.
I’m honestly trying to keep this away from a depressing, monotone recollection of memories most of weren’t there for. Really, I am. But every time I think of China, I think of what Sarah told me. I’ve said it before, and I’m going to keep saying it until the day it rings false: The best and worst things about travel are the people you meet. Everything I’ve said on those words is in earlier entries, so if you want context you might just have to scroll down and dive into those words I typed an entire world ago.
In terms of a simple State of the Union, my trip to China was initially intended as one of those ‘find yourself’ sort of moments. I was 22 and had lived at home my entire life. Despite working steadily since I was 14, I have lived both a sheltered and privileged life; a gift I don’t think I could repay my parents no matter how much ‘rent’ increases. I read, while in China, that anyone who travels to ‘Find themselves’ is bound for bitter disappointment. Count me as proof. I don’t know myself. I don’t know what I want in this world. I don’t see where I fit. I don’t know whether I’m fit for a ‘career’ in an office or whether I’m one of those guys destined to work at the end of a shovel until his knees wear out.
And you know what? This ‘lost’ feeling isn’t as depressing as it sounds. To me, the whole problem of not knowing something means that there’s just that much more learning to do. And if any of you actually know me, learning about ‘stuff’ is something I love.
So, China didn’t result in me coming home a fully rounded person confident in their abilities to take the world by the proverbial balls. It did not make me a genius. It did not even make me fluent in Mandarin (though I can still order a pepperoni pizza). What it did do was make me more than I was. It make me more confident. It make me realize that even if I don’t know what it is I want, I know that I’m not just going to settle for whatever works at the time.
It’s made me conscious of the people around me. How easy it is to connect yourself to other people. I’ve missed people I see every day of my life here in Calgary, just like I’ve missed people I’m honestly probably going to never see again. I keep in touch with the people who meant the most to me in both situations, and if I didn’t please don’t assume you mean nothing. It means that I’m fallible. I’m a human. I’m a scatterbrained, disorganized person who often forgets that zippers go on the –front- of his pants.
So. What did China teach me? It taught me that of all the things I love to do, the thing that terrifies me through to exhilaration the most is the meeting of people. Making friends. I’m learning, just now, how my times in Beijing taught me how to do that, even if it’s a skill I may never master. Travel, in any form it takes, is among the best ways to do just that; meet new people. There’re a million plus people in my home city, but there’s something about sharing the experience of sitting on a pole boat in the middle of rural Liuyang with a guy from Sweden that gets rid of all those trappings of the ‘modern western world’ that get in the way. Small talk be damned; laughing at your mutual failed attempts when trying to explain something to someone who doesn’t speak your language is something that transcends ‘the weather’.
And that leaves life at home. Living amongst friends I’ve known for so much longer than 5 months in another country. People who understand me in deep, essential ways who aren’t surprised or offended when I’m 5 minutes late to tea. People who I would give everything I had to, if only for a smile. It means a world of bills, the ring of a work phone, the seemingly endless grind of getting up at 6:45am to smash the alarm clock into silence. But it’s these things that make moments outside ‘real life’, whether it’s wiping away tears of laughter because your best friend made a particularly clever play on words (often incorporating ‘your’ and ‘mom’) or wiping away their tears of frustration after another part falls off their car and their rent’s due so crucial. Work is something I enjoy. I wouldn’t work the ridiculous hours I have if I didn’t enjoy spending time being busy. But it’s a means to an end.
And here’s where I wrap it all up. The biggest lesson China taught me is that I crave experiences. I don’t want material trappings. I don’t want a pretty car without cracks in the fenders. I don’t want to own the newest, brightest, shiniest electronic toys because my ‘friends’ have a new one. I want to make money and then through any means possible transmute those dollars and cents into memories. I crave the ability to tell stories; regardless of the reaction from any given audience. The fact that these are real moments, saccharine or bittersweet, that I’ve lived means that it’s all worth the time and effort. I want not just physical or digital images of places I’ve been, but mental recordings of my friends dancing in the middle of an ancient Chinese village or laughing so hard beer comes out their nose. Travel is, in my opinion, how I can best create those experiences.
So, in the remaining sentences of the most writing I’ve ever done without being mandated by a University professor, I’m going to thank some people.
Thank you to my friends at home. Without your support, love and grounding influence, I don’t think I’d be the sort of person who could keep a straight face while embarrassing myself in front of a desk full of 18 year old Chinese girls. You keep me down when I get a little too high. You’ve taught me that laughing at myself is often the best way to get other people to laugh. You’ve taught me that being proud, cocky or big headed is a great way to lose someone who I care for. Without you, I’d have no courage to do anything I want to do. I’d love to thank you individually, because my memories with each of you are my shelter against any storms that pass my way, but I’m running out of words.
Thanks to my family; my sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles and everyone else in that mishmash of blood ties. You’re the network of people I grew up in. Of all the people in my life, you’ve been constants; changing as I’ve changed but always being the sort of person who I could relate to as ‘Uncle X’ or ‘My cousin Y’. Without your interest and lifelong support, I don’t know if I’d be who I am today and I don’t really know how to thank you for that other than a few heartfelt words.
Thanks to my parents. You’re separate from ‘my family’ only because your contributions can’t be understated. You, probably more than anyone, have taught me how to be who I am today. You’re not just a safety net, but also a driving force. When I was a precocious little brat who loved to read ‘World Fact Books’ and thus knew everything, you both always made sure I realized there’s always stuff I need to learn. You wouldn’t accept less than my best in school or work, but in a way that made me realize failures are a great lesson in cause and effect. And now, come time to grow up, you’re right there pushing with one hand and steadying with the other. Because of you both, I’ve led a pretty damned charmed life. I just hope that I can take what you’ve taught me and make my own way. Thanks.
And to the people I met in China. You all make me cripplingly sad. You’re wonderful, wonderful people who I can honestly say I barely knew, but really understood. And here we are, forced to rely on e-mail until one of us gets up the means to jump off-continent and visit ‘Foreign’ for a hug and a knowing grin. For some of you, our friendship centered on laughing at each other and ourselves until we couldn’t breathe; weaving a love of music and learning about other cultures into that fabric. Others gave me weeks of memories giggling our way through smoke and Qingdao at simple words denoting parts of the female anatomy. Another brought to me a new confidence in myself as a person in so many ways that my head still spins; leaving me with an addiction to one song that still chokes me up. Still more brought to me a breathless excitability about anything new; taking me by the hand and running us both into the unknown, consequences be damned.
To everyone that made me who I was last September and who I am today, thanks. It wouldn’t have been the same without you. I’m going to travel my whole life through; this is one of those few things I know.
I called this blog Beijing Bound because that was my destination then. I like the sub-title better. Here’s to living your live as original research; collecting memories and experiences for whatever tests life throws you in the days to come.
- Nathan
