The Adjustment Phase

As many people well know I have spent most of my time here in China complaining. Either about my Waiban, my apartment, teaching, city life, or the government control over my internet. In effect, for the last 7 months and 21 days in China I have compared every challenge I have encountered with the idea of how or if I would ever encounter something similar back in the states. At some point “Oh china”, and “this is my life…” became daily catch phrases (along with “such as” and “have a rest”). Last week I even squared out some time to calculate how many weeks I have left in China. I was probably one of the first to book my plane ticket back to AMURICA, and yesterday I thought I would be one of the happiest to leave.

However, today as I sat out on the park bench and sketched the clueless construction worker napping in the grass underneath a nearby tree I started to think about what I would do my last day in China… and something strange happened. Somewhere down deep in my heart there was a tiny pang. Of course there was immediate panic and a (probably) verbal “What the fuck was that!” It was in fact, sadness. You see, somewhere during all that complaining and crying and anger and drinking, China crept up like a ninja and worked its way into my heart. At some point, China became my new normal.

It is normal

• …to be stared at
• …for a child to cry (or pee himself) at the mere sight of you
• …to hear “HELLO” from half a block behind you
• …to travel everywhere with a tiny packet of toilet paper
• …to have no clue what people are saying all around you
• …to live with multiple “herds” of wild cats
• …to not know what you are eating
• …to communicate only though hand signals and grunts
• …to haggle for almost everything you buy
• …to go to the market in the morning and pick out potatoes while standing next to a cart of skinned pig/lamp carcasses
• …to hear every sneeze, step, and conversation of your neighbors
• …to hear fireworks before dark
• …to live almost exclusively on noodles
• …to hop across the street for a 9er of beer
• …to play video games with friends and yell at 3am, but not get into trouble
• …to wake up at 6am and get on a “school bus” (charter bus) with 40 other teachers
• …to stand in front of a group of 40-50 people and instruct them on grammar, speech patterns, and debate
• …to have your appearance be openly assessed by strangers with the “top-to-bottom glance” that I’ve watched my grandmother practice for years.
• …to be called “Teacher”

I’m certain I have complained about every one of these things, but at some point I stopped even noticing them. So in fact this list could have once started with “It is annoying”. In this light I have come to the conclusion that I have in fact entered what you could define as “the adjustment phase” of culture shock.

Adjustment phase

Again, after some time (usually 6 to 12 months), one grows accustomed to the new culture and develops routines. One knows what to expect in most situations and the host country no longer feels all that new. One becomes concerned with basic living again, and things become more "normal". One starts to develop problem-solving skills for dealing with the culture and begins to accept the culture's ways with a positive attitude. The culture begins to make sense, and negative reactions and responses to the culture are reduced.

Sure as hell took long enough! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻