Communication Barriers

Before moving here, I prepared myself in a lot of ways. I bought a new suitcase, some jeans, a nice jacket, and lots of toothpaste with fluoride. Mentally, I prepared myself for homesickness, jet-lag, and communication barriers. In a country of 1.3 billion people, I didn't expect to be overwhelmed with loneliness, but I feel like the communication barriers have gotten the best of me. Jen put it nicely the other night, "It's all white noise. You might hear a 'hao' or a 'ma' every once in a while, but other than that, we're clueless."

As much as I'd studied Mandarin over the past few months, I had expected my spoken skills to develop quite nicely. However, I still feel completely isolated within my own brain. My thoughts are mine alone and I struggle for an outlet. I miss conversation. I miss speaking English. I wish my Mandarin was better so I could express myself here. I miss laughing with my friends. I miss explaining my thoughts to someone other than Jen (thank God she's here). The time difference has played an integral part in this giant equation as well. The times when I feel most lonely are when family and friends are sleeping. And, in order to keep myself from self-destruction, I must sleep when they're awake. No wonder my sleeping pattern has been so errant lately.

Since beginning my second job downtown, I only have 1 day off per week. Today was my day of respite.

I woke up early, had an apple and some tea, spoke briefly with my mother via Skype, and began a few loads of laundry. After I hung my second load up to dry, I dressed myself in the only clean clothing I had left and took the subway downtown.

It seems that the weather has finally decided to turn for the better. The blue sky and warm sun brought everyone outside today. Bin Jiang Dao is a long pedestrian shopping street that is infamous for pickpockets. I only entered a hand-full of shops today. Mostly, I just people watched and strolled amongst the masses - all while clutching my purse to the front of my body. I had planned on spending a few hours on Bin Jiang Dao followed by tea at Starbucks and dinner with Jen. At one point, the sun had warmed me to the point of near perspiration so I unzipped my jacket. Since I was waiting for Jen to call and notify me when she had arrived downtown, I had my cell phone in the front pocket of my jacket for easy access.

On my walk to Starbucks, I noticed a man walking quite closely to me. The Chinese awareness of personal space is nonexistent, so I didn't think much of it until I noticed that my jacket felt a bit lighter. I stuck my hand in my pocket to search for my phone. Empty handed, I turned to the man next to me just in time to see him shoving my cellphone into his pocket. My inability to yell "Give me back my phone!" in Mandarin left me one option. I backhandedly punched him in the stomach as hard as I could. In retrospect, I wish I had taken the time to steady my feet and lay a harder punch into his gut.

He exhaled quickly as my fist hit. I then stepped in front of him and held out my hand while motioning to his pocket. He begrudgingly handed my phone back to me and ran in the opposite direction. I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed what had occurred and felt more foreign than I ever have. I can't even ask if anyone saw what happened. I can't yell "Stop him!" as the would-be thief ran away. I can't even tell the police officer standing five feet away what had just happened. I don't know the word for 'cellphone'. Nor do I know the word for 'stolen'. I didn't speak a word until I got to Starbucks and ordered my tea. I sat there feeling completely enraged and irritated without an outlet for either emotion.

I feel un-prepared. I should have studied the language more before I arrived. I should have known that I'd be incredibly lonely. I should have prepped myself for the isolation. Instead, I have to adapt to my surroundings and understand that I'll be home soon enough. I can remember the feeling of excitement as I boarded my plane to Beijing. I wanted to be tested. I wanted to feel some selfish form of pride in who I am. Before I board my plane back home, I hope to sit here and type about personal achievements. It has to happen some day.