“You need to understand,” Walter said, lighting a cigarette. “Chinese love is real love.” “And American love isn’t?” Nick said. “Western love,” Walter said, “is not real love. Not in the Chinese sense. It’s not. Their love is deeper, truer.” “Yeah,” Nick said, “I can see what you mean.” He could too. One night at …Read More
Those first few years were the worst. You enter a period in your life where you can’t say for sure what you’re doing or even who you are. Each day the same as the last, they blur together like a flipbook. You can only see flashes of what you did, what you were. Little isolated fragments that do nothing to illustrate what happened and everything to add to the mystery.
“Why do you come to China?”, my students ask me, which is pretty much “What’s a nice laowai like you doing in a place like this?”. Well…I suppose I came here for a better life. I suppose. It’s hard to say. It’s hard to know what I was thinking. Look at it like this: I was treading water in the middle of the ocean, waiting for a boat to come by.
China just happened to be the first.
I just caught this video on ChinaHush and I challenge anyone to watch it and keep their eyes dry. I hope ChinaHush doesn’t mind if I borrow their translation of the text in the video:Read More