The Two Month Mark

Exactly two months from today, in just eight weeks, I will be leaving Panzhihua, my home for the past two years.  Outside my window, birds chirp as thunder threatens, all else quiet for the xiuxi (rest) hour.  The storm reflects my own feelings, a swirling mix of emotions.  I've lived abroad and elsewhere before, have experienced life within various cultures and people, and I can't count how many times I've cried as I've had to say goodbye.  This, however, is different.  

As the rain starts to fall, hitting the metal sheeting above everyone's windows, enhancing the music of the elements, I think of my life here.   A life that I love.  

The other day after class, I walked past a worker at the school mowing the grass.  The scent of fresh cut grass wafted to my nose as the buzz of the engine filled my ears.  Within seconds I was back home on the mower, the wind catching grass clippings and throwing them into the air like confetti, forcing me to close my eyes briefly as it covered me.  I closed my eyes and fell back into the moment, enjoying being home, if even for a second.  

Everyone talks about readjusting to life in America, the reverse culture shock that oftentimes gets ignored or forgotten about.  Being overwhelmed in a grocery store or breaking into sobs for no apparent reason being just some of the stories that are told to help us understand how big of a change it all is.  

I'm excited to go back.  Thrilled beyond a doubt to wake up and hug each member of my family with the start of a new day.  To drive.  Oh, to put on my music and drive through the countryside, windows down, singing to music.    To have a portabello mushroom with feta cheese and garlic sandwich.  To sit in a theater and watch a movie.  Go out to a wine bar.  Walk around barefoot on the lawn.  It's the small things and the everyday moments with my loved ones that I miss and am so anxious to get back to.

Yet, as I think about leaving China, the rain pouring harder now, tears coming to my eyes, I shake my head at the thought of leaving.  It is suddenly so near when it used to feel like I had so much time.  When I think about everything I'm leaving, students, friends, family, I get overwhelmed and shake my head some more, as if trying to convince myself that it isn't for real.  

All to soon, when I am back in Illinois, I will be having the same moments of China.  Something will catch me and hold me in my place, transporting me back here to everyone and everything I love.  

To feel so excited and happy and at the same time just as terribly sad is utterly confusing and hard.  And as the rain lessens and the sun tries to breakthrough the clouds, I smile because this is China.