Day 2 - Hanging out with the locals

I was too depressed/tired to write about Day 2 yesterday, but since I promised that I would chronicle my entire journey, here it goes.

Yesterday, my cousin Joanna (the English-speaking one) took me out with her group of friends. Actually, she didn't know everyone there - just about four or five of them - but basically it was a group of people who have all studied English and/or traveled abroad to English-speaking countries. I had agreed to go only because I expected to finally find company in a few English-speaking Chinese people.

Joanna picked me up around eleven in the morning and took me to her boyfriend Steve's home for lunch. Steve had studied four years in New Zealand so he could also speak English (though he's more reluctant to do so). I met Steve's mom and both his grandmothers. It was a very uncomfortable experience. I had never gone to someone's place who was not somehow related to me in China. What's more is that Steve's mom and grandmothers don't speak Mandarin very well - they speak mostly in Cantonese - so there was a more defined language barrier than what I was used to. Steve's mom spoke a little Mandarin, but she also kept looking at me strangely, as if she was not too happy to see a Chinese person who seemed so out-of-touch with the Chinese culture. That was the vibe I got from her, at least, since she kept asking me why I didn't eat this or why I couldn't read Chinese.

Backing up a bit. Steve's mom cooked a lot of food for all of us. I felt awkward sitting on the couch with his grandmothers while they talked about me and while everyone else was setting the table. This continued at the dinner table as everyone talked in Cantonese while I continued eating in silence. Steve's family was obviously asking about life in America, but I was miffed to see that Joanna took the liberty to answer for me without bothering to translate. It wasn't a big deal, and I'm certainly used to people answering for me, but I would've liked to the opportunity to clarify some things and/or clear up any misconceptions. Looking back on that, I realize I should've spoken up and asked Joanna what they were talking about. At least then I would've shown some interest in the conversation.

The food Steve's mom cooked was good. The flavor was similar to what my mom and dad cook back home. However, I had a bit of trouble eating as much as Steve's mom wanted me to. I think she thought I didn't like her cooking, even though I assured her again and again that I really liked the food and was just used to eating smaller portions. To make her feel better, I picked one dish - potato leaves - and kept spooning it into my bowl. It seemed to work because she smiled at me, but she also poured the entire dish into my bowl at the end. There was a dish of steamed potatoes that they pushed at me, but I politely declined it (I don't eat potatoes because of the starch content). I was amused to find that everyone at the table thought I didn't eat potatoes because I ate too many potatoes at home xD I didn't know America was known for their potatoes, but there you have it.

After eating, Joanna, Steve, and I piled into Steve's car, and we drove down to a parking lot where the rest of the group was waiting for us. There were about five or six cars total, each with about five people. Steve seemed to know a lot of them, but Joanna, who wasn't feeling too good, was more aloof. She introduced me to the few people she did know, and they seemed amused to see me tagging along. We drove for forty-five minutes to Maofeng Mountain on a very windy road. Steve's driving came me a headache, especially since I sat in the back, but the scenery was so beautiful, I couldn't help staring out the window. We drove up in our caravan to the furthest point you can reach by car and found out there that to reach the peak, you had to climb about a half-hour. Mind you, it was really hot and humid, so all of us decided to just wander around the area. Joanna's side was really hurting her, so we just took a short walk and sat by this small pond. I thoroughly enjoyed just taking in the scenery, especially when a cool breeze began to blow. I chatted with a couple of them about life in the U.S. They were very interested in knowing about the weather in Houston and California and about my studies. I secretly take a lot of pleasure in scaring them by telling them about how long medical school is.

Unfortunately, most of the people in the group decided to play poker. Since it was impossible to play poker with the wind, everyone moved under this makeshift tent. I sat down with them for about five minutes or so before I had to move. The mosquitoes were vicious; right now, I have about eight mosquito bites on my legs alone. I played a bit of monkey-in-the-middle with two of Joanna's friends and Steve and enjoyed that as well. Joanna then had to go back to the car to get her shoes, so Steve took her back to the car. I sat down in the grass and played my iPod while watching everyone else play hacky-sack.

It was then that I felt this wave of depression. I'm not usually a sad person, and I was really having a good time up until then, so the tears were very sudden and unexpected. But when "Lullaby for a Stormy Night" by Vienna Teng came on, combined with the laughter coming from that group of friends playing hacky-sack, I was suddenly reminded of how much I missed my own friends and my own family. The stress of feeling like a stranger for an entire afternoon got to me too. I lowered my head so others wouldn't see the tears in my eyes and pretended to be resting. I didn't cry, but my eyes were quite wet and shiny. And I was very careful to not close my eyes so the tears wouldn't actually come out. But unfortunately, I think one or two people noticed. One girl sat down next to me and told me she didn't know anyone here either. It gave me great comfort, and we talked for a while.

Soon everyone was gathering their things to head down the mountain for dinner. We piled into our cars again. Halfway down the mountain, we ate at a place on the side of the road. I'm not a germaphobe, but I'm not used to eating in restaurants that aren't clean. I have a great deal of trouble eating on park benches and picnic tables (really crazy, I know). So when we pulled up to that place, I suddenly lost my appetite.

Our car was the last to pull up in the parking lot, so when we got there, the entire group had already split themselves into three tables. Each table had only one or two seats available, and everyone had already settled into their separate groups. I felt incredibly awkward when Steve loudly asked to have three seats open at a table for the three of us to sit at. There it was again - the feeling of being a stranger and being an inconvenience. It took about two minutes to reorganize the seating arrangement to accomodate us, but to me it felt like forever. We finally took our seats and had dinner. Unsurprisingly, I ate even less than I usually do and finished a good deal earlier than everyone else. Because I didn't want anyone to feel obliged to speak to me as I sat there watching everyone else eat, I just pulled out my headphones and pretended to listen to music.

When everyone finished, Joanna asked me if I wanted to go with them to a karaoke bar afterwards. I couldn't take being a tag-along anymore, so I politely declined and asked them if they could drop me off at Guma #3's house on the way. Joanna insisted that I come with them and just relax and have fun, so I told her that I had to get home soon because it would be Saturday morning in Houston and my parents were definitely going to call (I had told them via email that I would be going out with Joanna today so they were going to ask me about the trip).

On the way back home, I cried a little in the back seat. I was upset by how pitiful I was, and by then, I missed my family terribly. I was thankful that the darkness made it hard for Joanna and Steve to see my tears in the mirror when they checked on me.

Steve dropped me off at Guma #3's building, and Joanna insisted that she take me up. Yet again, that feeling of being an inconvenience. By then, I was feeling horrible, so I decided to take a very long, hot shower. Around ten o'clock, my dad called. Guma #3 handed me the phone and went off to do something in the kitchen. My dad asked me how my day had gone, and I felt the tears coming again. However, I took big breaths between sentences and was able to control myself. Then he put my mom, whom I haven't spoken to verbally since the morning I left, on the phone. And I lost it baaaaad.

I was crying so hard as I told her that I didn't have a good time today (though I couldn't tell her why at the moment) and I told her I didn't think I could stay here all 80 days. I'm so grateful that she didn't point out how unreasonable I was. Instead, she said that once I have work to do that would take my mind off of home, I wouldn't have such a horrible time (which is true). She also said that my relatives here were so happy to see me and that they were being so nice to me (also true). My conversation with my mom made me feel a lot better, even though I still continued to cry for a while after handing the phone to my Guma. I went to the bathroom to clean up (and sob a little longer) but came out generally calm.

Guma #3 was very concerned since I never showed one hint of homesickness until now (this impresses even me). She didn't make me feel any better, though, since she kept saying how she would be just like my mom here.

So I went to bed generally feeling a hell of a lot worse than normal. I've always tried not to go to bed unhappy, but crying always makes me sleepy, and the day had been way too long. I was almost impatient to close my eyes and wake up to a new day.