Love is the smell of Honey I washed the kids, made by Lush, I've decided. I just washed my hands with it, and I can't help but pause, bring my palms to my face and just inhale.
Finding a language school and a country to teach in is more difficult than I previously thought - I have the qualifications, give or take a TOEFL class, and the desire to learn from the country I ultimately pick, and to become a less selfish, more open person. Plus, I'm currently cramming/teaching myself Japanese and fixing my Mandarin (a rather gargantuan task, because I want to be truly fluent, and that means reading and writing as well) in a bid to rejuvenate my rapidly depleting brain cells (I know about hypochondria, but is there a term for someone who's afraid/convinced they're getting stupider?), but the leaving is -- I don't know. I've never done well with good byes, and I managed to not be terribly homesick when I did study abroad, but this next stage in my life seems so much more immense and more final than my previous travels. I'll always come home, but I don't know where that is, right now.
It's so odd - for years I dealt with being a hyphenate without much thought or care, and often a lot of embarrassed resentment, but now that my grandmother is gone, my link to being "Chinese" is fading as well. Her recipes, her garden, the sound of her sewing at night - all of that is gone. I've always known how to be American. But now I'm wondering how to be Chinese. We're not that kind of family that talk to each other (often because we don't talk, we fight) and my grandmother never really told me stories about her life before, mostly because she had made peace with living in America and because I never asked and now naturally, I have questions. To find some kind of history, but we're separated from the Taiwanese branch of the family, and my mother never talks to me in Mandarin unless it's to disparage me, and I guess I am just floundering for something I didn't know I needed. I suppose it could be some spiritual "You belong here" sign.
Finding a language school and a country to teach in is more difficult than I previously thought - I have the qualifications, give or take a TOEFL class, and the desire to learn from the country I ultimately pick, and to become a less selfish, more open person. Plus, I'm currently cramming/teaching myself Japanese and fixing my Mandarin (a rather gargantuan task, because I want to be truly fluent, and that means reading and writing as well) in a bid to rejuvenate my rapidly depleting brain cells (I know about hypochondria, but is there a term for someone who's afraid/convinced they're getting stupider?), but the leaving is -- I don't know. I've never done well with good byes, and I managed to not be terribly homesick when I did study abroad, but this next stage in my life seems so much more immense and more final than my previous travels. I'll always come home, but I don't know where that is, right now.
It's so odd - for years I dealt with being a hyphenate without much thought or care, and often a lot of embarrassed resentment, but now that my grandmother is gone, my link to being "Chinese" is fading as well. Her recipes, her garden, the sound of her sewing at night - all of that is gone. I've always known how to be American. But now I'm wondering how to be Chinese. We're not that kind of family that talk to each other (often because we don't talk, we fight) and my grandmother never really told me stories about her life before, mostly because she had made peace with living in America and because I never asked and now naturally, I have questions. To find some kind of history, but we're separated from the Taiwanese branch of the family, and my mother never talks to me in Mandarin unless it's to disparage me, and I guess I am just floundering for something I didn't know I needed. I suppose it could be some spiritual "You belong here" sign.
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