Life As A Lao Wai

So…I’m in Arkansas.  I’ve been here for a week and a day.  Lots is going on, but I felt that it would be fun to blog a bit about reverse culture shock.

Because it happens to me.  And I would venture to say that I'm not alone in my experience...

And I categorize: funny reverse culture shock and emotionally difficult reverse culture shock.  Type A goes on frequently when I cross cultures.  Type B typically only occurs after stints of time in the States over 6-7 weeks.

These stories simply fall into Type A: the funny awkward things I do when I come home.

Well, last week I was in Arkadelphia, where I spent 4 years of my life in undergrad.  And let’s be honest, Arkadelphia is a twin to the city where I have grown up and am currently sitting in typing…Hope.  One would think I know how to do things in Arkadelphia.

The problem occurs when I’m supposed to do something without thinking.  It’s the “auto-response” moments that get me into trouble.  For example: one would think that I would know how to cross a street…

But no, it would seem that I’ve forgotten.

In China, I disregard all street signs, green lights, crosswalks, etc…   To cross the street, one looks at the street at almost 2 separate streets:  You look at the cars coming one way, see a break in traffic, cross to the middle, and then wait in the middle until there is an opening in oncoming traffic, and you walk to the other side.  Cars do not stop if you are standing on the yellow line in the middle of the road.  It’s perfectly normal.  In fact, I would never get anywhere if I didn’t do exactly that.

And might I add that I walk everywhere, all the time.  No one jumps in their car to go 2 blocks: they walk.

So what did I do in Arkadelphia?  Well, I got my hair highlighted by my pal and I was supposed to meet up with 2 of my Hope girls.  In the meantime, I thought I would walk over to Maurice’s, which is about 2 blocks away.  It never crossed my mind to ask for a ride for such a short distance, though I see in retrospect that would have been the “normal” thing to do.

I walked to the main road and followed my protocol for crossing streets in China.  As I stood on the yellow line in the middle of the road and the oncoming traffic stopped and let me continue crossing, my mind snapped back to the reality that what I did was COMPLETELY abnormal and pretty dang funny.

I laughed at myself when I got to the other side of the street and reflected for a minute on what a weirdo I am.

So on Sunday afternoon, the electricity went off in our kitchen after my family and I had just finished eating lunch. 

In China, we have motion and noise censors in the stairwells.  When the lights go off, you stomp your foot to make the lights come on.

So what did I do when the lights went off in my parents’ kitchen?  I stomped my foot down as hard as I could.

Next thought: why did I just do that?

Next thought:  ohhhhhhh.

Next action: loud laughter and explanation.

It’s official, jumping in and out of cultures really messes with your mind. 

And sometimes it’s really funny!

So everyone who knows me very well at all knows that I HATE…yes, HATE, hot dogs.  I hate them in every country, but they are especially wretched to me in China.

They put them on sticks and sell them on the street.  People eat them everywhere.  They bring them on the bus.  Children snack on them constantly. 

I’m not exaggerating…the smell of Chinese hot dogs absolutely repulses me.  In fact, I was eating a piece of Hawaiian pizza the other day (which I usually love) and the meat had a funny China hot dog smell to it, and I had to stop eating… it completely grosses me out.

So today, I was walking down a busy street and Jack and Rose stepped directly in front of me.  First came the smell of the hot dog on a stick.  Then I glanced up and saw it:

Jack and Rose kissed…and passed the hot dog from Jack’s mouth to Rose’s.  A foot away from my face.  Now, let’s be honest: the smell of said “hot dogs” is enough to make me want to gag.  But the SIGHT of Jack and Rose passing that nasty, stinky, mystery-meat-on-a-stick…mouth to mouth…now that was too much for me. 

I literally gagged and made haste to remove them from both my line of sight and my line of smell.

Thank you, Jack and Rose.  Just when I thought hot dogs could not possibly be more disgusting to me, you took things to a whole new level .  Much appreciation.

Today was my last class with the kiddos for a while.  We were having a review/game day and playing a little Bingo.

I have a prize basket, which is filled with pencils, erasers, and a few big ticket items: a stuffed frog, some Snoopy change purses, and a bouncy baseball… However, the big prizes today were 2 small neon-colored flashlights which had some funky looking liquid inside, which I purchased at the 2Y (equivalent of the Dollar Store) a few months ago. 

Two little boys tied in the Bingo game, so I let them pick out their prizes together.  Of course, they picked the 2 flashlights…until my helpers took them away…and showed me that on the opposite end of the flashlight was a LIGHTER.  Yes, I gave 10-year-old boys lighters as prizes. 

Brilliant, Gladys, brilliant.

Today I was walking up the stairs to work and it struck me that I could see my breath…INSIDE THE BUILDING, but not outside.  Isn’t that weird?  Maybe making buildings with concrete walls and no insulation isn’t the best idea.

It causes a girl to wear 2 pairs of heavy duty wool socks inside her faux fur-lined boots.

Things are at a low when the same girl who is wearing 2 pairs of heavy duty wool socks wakes up…snuggled up with her computer cord because the converter box is so warm.

Yes, that’s where I found myself last night around midnight…snuggled up with a computer cord on my couch.   I’ve lived in some pretty cold places, and this is definitely not the coldest…but this takes things to a new level.  Perhaps the computer companies ought to figure out a way to market that?  “Built-in camera, mic, 2 GB, blah blah blah a bunch of stuff I don’t understand and truly hate thinking about blah blah, comes with a free printer…AND for a limited time only, comes with a dual converter which can serve as a personal mini-heater.”

Now, if only there were some way to make your laptop cool for use in the summer… Oh yeah,  I think someone already invented those…

I like the holidays.  I do.  I like pumpkin flavored things, scented candles, and platters that have tasteful holiday décor on them just as much as the next girl.

But my roomie…she loves these things at a whole different level.  So much so that when I figured out her birthday would fall during Scott’s visit in November…I asked him to pick up a cornucopia (as a joke, and because I knew it would completely delight her.  And not only did he bring a cornucopia…he brought the biggest horn of plenty I’ve ever seen.  Charity likes it so much she tries to figure out ways to incorporate it into other holidays.  And as for Scott, well, you can clearly see that any man who would shop for and then carry a cornucopia to China for the amusement of his girlfriend…is pretty dang awesome.)

But I digress.

Because this is a blog about holiday socks.   And I haven’t even TOUCHED on the poinsettia that she had other people haul around Beijing for her…hahaha

So last year, Charity had these Christmas socks that had jingle bells on them.  Every time she wore them, it sounded like a cat was walking around downstairs.  I have a strong conviction that whoever invented said socks should have to live in a house full of people who wear them 24/7.  The truth is, I’m glad she has the jingle bell socks because I have so much fun making fun of them.

Well, they’ve been conspicuously absent this year.

A few weeks ago, she definitely accused me, “Amy.  Did you throw my jingle bell socks away?”

I cracked up, because I did not, but it delights me that she thinks I did.

“No, friend, I wish I could claim credit for that.”

“Amy, did you HIDE my jingle bell socks?”

More laughter.  “No, friend…again, I wish I could claim credit… I wondered where those obnoxious things were…”

This week she came home with 5 new pairs of Christmas socks from the street, but alas, none had jingle bells.

Fast forward to today.  I’m in the kitchen, making tortillas.  I hear, “AAaaaammmyyyy!!  I FOUND THEM, I FOUND MY JINGLE BELL SOCKS!!”

DANGit.  I stop rolling out my tortillas and turn to see her hands full of holiday socks.  She jingles the jingle bell socks at me and garners an eye roll.  And then she proceeds to push the button on the ones that SING.

Who comes up with these things?? 

“You go right ahead and blog about my socks, Amy.  Go right ahead!  I know you want to.”

And it looks like I’m taking her up on it…