A Taste of Being Foreign

When in my home country, I always had something of a soft spot for foreigners.  I used French to teach English to an African student during my Freshman year at Uni.  On my second day as a Sophomore (in 2006), I met a Chinese student.

He was having some difficulties getting into his room; his key did not seem to be working.  I approached him.

"Is everything okay?  You need some help?" I asked.

"Hi," he said.  "My door does not open."

I took his key from him and tried the door.  If memory serves, he had been turning the key the wrong direction.  The door to the building and the door to his room required turning the key in opposite directions.  It was understandable that he was confused.  The door opened easily.

"My name is Nathan.  What is your name?" I asked.

"I'm Richard."

Mmmm...  I couldn't call him that.  My father by the same name had recently passed away.  "What is your real name?"

I got his real name and told him that if he needed anything, he could ask me.  I lived just down the hall.  As several days went by, we introduced each other to music and viral videos.

For some reason, I seemed to be the only person capable of understanding completely his spoken English; therefore, I became a bridge for him to interact with the world around him.  I imagine for him it seemed that I was doing him a great service, but for me it was only natural.  It was just how friendship worked for me.

I remember going to places like Best Buy and Walmart with him.  I would translate his English into proper English so that the clerks could understand, and I would translate the clerks' English into English that he could understand.

My Uni implemented a plan that required students to pay a fee if they wished to stay during extended holidays such as Thanksgiving or Christmas.  During the three day Thanksgiving vacation, my friend paid 60 USD to be alone on a fairly empty campus.  So when Christmas came around, I insisted that he join me in the festivities at my home with my family.

During that time, his English grew and grew; I knew it would.  I had done an immersion program for French when I was in High School.  It had done wonders for my French in just two months.  The Christmas vacation was a month's duration.  After that, most of the people that associated with me could understand him much easier.  Still, he felt most comfortable having me do the talking for him.

I had elected to take Mandarin and German the following semester, so he started teaching me smatterings of Chinese during the holiday.  Then, he offered to have me accompany him when he returned to China during the following summer.  Perhaps I was too hasty to say yes.  Maybe that was impolite of me.  Perhaps I should have declined to be polite, but I didn't.  I got the money raised and I visited China.

For a month, he did for me what I had done for him for nearly a year.  Speaking two languages, I wasn't exactly used to being in a situation where I couldn't communicate.  Living in his home in China was something completely different.  I had studied Mandarin for a semester, but I found that most of what I had learned was irrelevant--much to my dismay.

I felt completely reliant on his assistance for every minute detail.  I had been a foreigner before, but life in France really wasn't too different from life in the United States.  China was a horse of a different color.  It was overwhelming, and I was experiencing expat blues like none other.  I was floored at how much of a drain my presence must have been on the family and on my friend.  After all, he couldn't be too far away from me as I was completely dependent on his translations.

I cut my Chinese vacation short by a month to half of the original intended stay.  When I got home, I instantly regretted the decision.  It plagued my thoughts.  "Why, oh why did I cut my stay short?"

China has a magical power like that.  It gets inside you, and then no matter what you do, you can't get it out.  So, I decided that I wanted to come back.  I contacted my friend in the spring of 2010, asking him to help me get a job in the Middle Kingdom.  Then, in the fall, I was on a plane to my new job as an English instructor.

I've spent the major holidays with my "adopted" family, with the person I now consider "brother".  I am living a happy life right now.

It could easily have never been.  If I never came to China in 2007.  If I never invited my friend to live in my home during the Christmas break.  If I had never been such a good friend to him.  If I had never helped him with his key.  If I had never met him.  If he had never taken the test to study abroad.  If he had never elected to study English.  If he had never gone to the university that partnered with mine.  If I had never had a life-altering experience in high school resulting in a last-minute change in which university I chose.  If I had never studied language, giving me the ability to understand my friend's poor English.  There are so many things that if even one of them were tweaked, then I would not have any chance of being in China at this very moment.

I don't know if my words can properly illustrate just how awe-inspiring that is.  I often sit in a daze considering all of the minute coincidences that brought me to this phase of my life.  I marvel at each of the pieces of the puzzle.